Harry Potter 1. A Quiet Family Dinner

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Hogwarts. I used some places, names, and ghosts from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you need to look elsewhere. Some readers of my other stories suggested I try original fiction, I see this as approximately original fiction.

**A Quiet Family Dinner**

"Lizzy, tell me again how Slytherin will win the quidditch cup this year," Mr. Gray requested as the deaf maid cleared plates from the table. It was a topic of endless pleasure for both father and daughter.

"Well, after Hufflepuff won the cup last year, it became evident that…" Elizabeth looked at her mother. "Sorry. I don't mean to insult Hufflepuff, but if they can win the quidditch cup then it should be easy to recruit a Slytherin team able to defeat them and win the cup."

Mrs. Gray smiled, "Actually, I don't mind hearing that at all. 'Hufflepuff won the quidditch cup last year.' 'Hufflepuff won the quidditch cup last year.' I think I could listen to you say that all day."

"Pay no attention to your mother," her father suggested with a laugh, "it will be Slytherin who wins the house cup this year."

"Yes, if Hufflepuff can win then I'll have no trouble recruiting a better team. Slytherin already has the finest keeper at Hogwarts, if I can say that without sounding immodest."

"That is certainly true," her mother admitted with a smile. Her father nodded.

"Mr. Lennox is the finest beater at the school, and Miss Applington does a credible job as his second."

"I notice you say nothing about chasers or seeker," Mrs. Gray pointed out.

Elizabeth smiled, "I have a plan for our chasers. I think Slytherin will be fine in that position. As for seeker… Well, no house has a returning seeker this year, and Slytherin has potential. Aloysius Whisp, the younger brother of our last seeker, is mad about the game."

Her father looked thoughtful, "Whisp… The broom-making family?"

"Yes, one of the finest. He does almost nothing but talk about the game and is very knowledgeable."

"I don't mean to discourage you, Lizzy," her mother interrupted, "but Hufflepuff will return most of the team which took the quidditch cup last year. Doesn't that make you at all apprehensive – the need to recruit a new team able to beat the team which took the cup?"

"Robin is a perfectly good beater, but the twins are only average as chasers. He also needs to fill both the seeker and keeper positions and I didn't see anyone of great potential at Hufflepuff for either position and I can't imagine a first year stepping in."

There was a brief pause as the next course was served. Then her father encouraged Elizabeth to continue. "But there are two other teams to consider in the equation. Won't both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor be in the position of Slytherin – attempting to recruit new teams able to take on Hufflepuff?"

"Ravenclaw," Elizabeth scoffed. "It is possible that Miss Fowler is the best chaser at Hogwarts, but one chaser does not make a team!"

"Although, at the moment, Slytherin doesn't have a single chaser," her mother reminded her.

"I've got a plan," Elizabeth reminded her mother. "I'm certain Slytherin is in a better position than Ravenclaw for a winning team. And, as for Gryffindor, those four straight years when they completely dominated quidditch play discouraged the other houses. It was hard to recruit players when you knew that Gryffindor would humiliate any team they played."

"What about their team prospects," her father asked.

"Mr. Potter is a good beater, almost as good as Mr. Lennox since his unfortunate first game—" Elizabeth admitted grudgingly.

"Is he the one who had his nose broken?" her mother asked.

"Yes, badly. Gryffindor collapsed entirely after they lost the players who had made their team so effective. I predict another year of discouragement for them, with Mr. Potter being unable to recruit a solid team."

As they ate a large raven flew in the open window and perched on the back of Mr. Gray's chair. "There is a seagull out there with a message for you," he informed the owner of the home.

"Tell him to wait."

"A seagull. Damn thing is dumber than an owl – and you have a tree full of them waiting for you as well."

Mrs. Gray had long since given up any hope of Munin becoming more temperate in his language.

"We will eat as quickly as we can," Mr. Gray promised.

"Oh, and he expects a large reward for his delivery.

Mr. Gray sighed. "Don't worry," his wife told him. "Lizzy and I will handle it." She moved her chair back from the table, "Lizzy, come with me."

The two headed for the kitchen. "We're reduced to stealing from ourselves?" Elizabeth asked. "Father should have never purchased the estate."

"Your father loves this place," her mother reminded her as they went down the steps to the kitchen. "Or perhaps he simply loves the idea of owning an estate. It is rather the same. Last week he learned that some of the tenants call him squire. Compliment him when he tells you, he says it means nothing but I know it pleased him very much."

The cook was startled to see the mistress of the house enter the kitchen. "Is anythin' wrong, m'lady?"

"Not at all Betsy, I—"

"One of them maids not serving right? Lord, with them being deaf and all I—"

"Everything is fine, but I remembered Mr. Gray expressing a desire for something special for breakfast tomorrow."

"Tell me, mum. I'll have it ready for him."

As her mother gave directions to the cook Elizabeth slipped into the cool larder. Several freshly caught trout waited a family meal on the morrow and she wrapped one up in a napkin. She managed to conceal it in the folds of her dress and joined her mother as they returned to the dining room.

"I fear Betsy will think I'm quite scatter-brained," Mrs. Gray sighed as she resumed her place at the table.

"I'm curious who will be blamed for the missing fish," Elizabeth wondered. "Will the cook blame one of the maids – or the fish monger? She might even decide someone else on the household staff nicked it. Will you use a memory charm on her?"

"Only if I must. Too many memory charms and muggles begin to worry about the gaps in their past. And the maids! I know the villagers think us very benevolent to hire deaf girls, but planting false memories if they see something is exceedingly difficult."

"But your mother manages," her father assured Elizabeth. "First in charms every year at Hogwarts."

The last course having been served, and the maid returned to the kitchen until the signal to clear the table, Mr. Gray gave a sign to the raven. A minute later a seagull landed on the table. Mr. Gray removed the message from its leg and presented the bird with the trout. The gull swallowed it whole and left a large pile of poop on the table before flying out the window.

A parade of owls followed the gull, each politely leaving its message and returning to its home. When the last of the owls departed the raven returned. He looked with distaste at the souvenir left behind by the gull. "I know I'll be blamed for that."

"Sorry, Munin," Mr. Gray apologized. "Gulls have no manners, but I suspect it was a business letter, and probably important."

Curiosity compelled the raven to remain on the back of the chair as Mr. Gray passed letters to his wife and daughter. He suspected the gull's message was bad news and left it on the bottom of the pile so that it would not interfere with any happier news.

Mr. Gray first opened the letter concerning Hogwarts business. While most of the information appeared routine, "Bad new, I'm afraid, Lizzy."

"What is it?"

"I fear your Miss Applington will not be returning to school."

"Is she all right?"

"The letter doesn't say. But her family has informed the school of the fact."

The disappointment was obvious on Miss Gray's face.

"What's the matter?" her mother asked, "Worried about the quidditch team?"

"Oh, if Mr. Bulstrode is even half as good as he boasts we should be fine. I simply hope there is nothing wrong with her."

"If I get more details I will inform you," her father assured her.

Anne Gray opened one of the notes her husband passed to her with especial delight. "It is from your brother," she told her daughter.

"What's the Evil Weasel up to?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Edward William," her mother told her firmly, "is having a wonderful time at Mr. Wells' home," Mrs. Gray read further in the letter. "There seem to be a number of students from Ravenclaw there." She turned to her daughter, "What did you say was the name of the Ravenclaw quidditch captain?"

"Fowler, Rose Fowler."

"She is among the guests. Edward William says he plans to head directly to Hogwarts from the Wells. Oh, dear. He will miss seeing my parents and Pearl."

"I hope he's made all his purchases for school," her husband said absent-mindedly as he read another business report.

"It would have been nice if the whole family could have been together for a time," she sighed. "Every time we turned around one of the children was gone somewhere. And with Basil and Pearl being with my parents, Edward William being with the Wells, and Lizzy being with Miss Cornelius the last fortnight it has been almost as if we had no children at all.

Mr. Gray laid down the letter he had been reading and looked at his wife, "And was the time before we had children really so unbearable that you couldn't stand being alone with me the last few weeks?"

"I suppose not," she laughed. "And Pearl will come home with us after we take Basil to school."

Although the news of losing one of her beaters and a friend in the fall stayed in her mind Elizabeth still found pleasure in her letters. Besides a note from her friend, Mary Cornelius, who had finished Hogwarts in the spring, there had been two notes on a subject dear to her heart. She folded them carefully for the trip to her own final year at Hogwarts.

"Damn!" Mr. Gray cursed as he finally opened the last note and read the contents.

"George," his wife chided him. "Your language."

"Bad news. The _Swallow_ is at the mouth of the Thames, and young Ripley reports failure in the China trading."

"Failure? The voyage a total loss? Will we lose very much?"

Mr. Gray glanced briefly at the letter. "The exchange of muggle goods was normal. We will make a profit from the voyage, but without wizard goods the voyage will not show as much profit as usual. Some investors will not be happy with their return. I have a reputation to uphold."

After dinner the Grays moved to the drawing room after dinner. Anne wrote letters and Elizabeth read a book on herbology as George paced and tried to decide what to do about the China news.

George Gray, a large man, came from a family in which displays of affection had been unknown. His love for his wife had helped him overcome some of that limitation, but he remained stiff and formal with his children. He expected them to realize his love towards them by the money he spent on them. He had made his fortune through trade with both the muggle and the magic worlds. While he scorned the muggle world he had friends as well as business partners among them and had picked up more of their values than he would admit – hence his need to demonstrate his status by the purchase of an estate two years earlier.

His petite wife, Anne Gray, née Fletcher, came from an affectionate family. She needed family and friends around her for her own happiness, but her disposition assured her of a steady supply of friends. A portion of each day was spent in correspondence with her family, and with London friends during their time in the country. She had already made close acquaintances among the muggles living near the estate, and established herself as a woman with healing abilities which brought visitors to their door begging for her assistance.

Elizabeth, their oldest child, was very much her father's daughter. She had resigned herself to never being a beauty. Elizabeth was too tall to be stylish, with an athletic rather than a willowy frame. She kept her chestnut hair cut unfashionably short to stay out of her eyes while she played keeper for the Slytherin team.

Edward William, known to his sister as Evil Weasel, would begin his fourth year in Ravenclaw in less than three weeks. To his father's despair his oldest son was slight in frame, like his mother. Mr. Gray found the characteristic, so becoming of a wife, less attractive in a son. Basil, their second son, would begin Hogwarts this year. Although only ten, the ungainly boy showed signs of growing to his father's stature. It would be two more years until the youngest child of the family, Pearl, would enter Hogwarts. The little girl with dark blonde hair and blue eyes showed promise of being a great beauty some day.

Mr. Gray stopped his pacing, "I know what I need to do." His wife looked up from her letter, and his daughter from her book. "I need to go to the city. The Guild will want a report on a new dark wizard. And I want to question Ripley in greater detail, and I may need to answer to the stockholders for smaller profits this voyage."

"Can anything be done about a dark wizard in China?" his wife asked. "It will be bad for business."

"I'm hoping there is no dark wizard."

"But the letter--" Elizabeth began.

"Ripley is new. He doesn't know how to bargain. I'm hoping that T'ieh-Kuai Li was simply trying to get more favorable terms. The old beggar is crafty and Ripley may not have understood how to do business. The _Fair Wind_ will probably return next. I'll have a better idea then."

"Should you wait until then to inform the Guild?" his wife wondered.

He shrugged, "Perhaps. I may make a laughing stock of myself if I report a dark wizard when there isn't one, but I'll face greater censure if I don't make a report and there is one."

"And if there is a dark wizard?"

"Very little we can do, I fear. Profits will be down but there will be profits."

"You wouldn't sell opium, would you?" his wife demanded.

"No dear. I promised your father I wouldn't. It also means the Chinese government gives us a favored status. And T'ieh-Kuai Li has always made it clear the Chinese wizarding community opposes the practice. But the muggle stockholders may try and force the issue - and if trade in magical goods is cut off their demands will be difficult to refuse."

"When will you leave?"

"I'll leave tomorrow morning. It may take a week before all my business is concluded."

Mrs. Gray frowned, "You won't be able to go with us to visit my parents?"

"I'm afraid not, dear. I will join you as soon as I'm able… Oh, bad news, I'm afraid. Since I leave in the morning you will need to deal with Mr. Mulliner in the afternoon."

"Coward," his wife charged in an accusing tone.

"Who is Mr. Mulliner," Elizabeth asked.

"Estate manager," Mrs. Gray explained to her daughter. "A man with talents, but without the ability to stop talking. Once his verbal claws are in you, you would gnaw off your own leg in order escape the trap."

"I thought father had suspended rents for two years, why do you need an estate manager?"

"Trust me, Lizzy," her father answered, "there is far more to running an estate than collecting rents. I don't know how the former owner could mismanage it so badly. I suspended rents so the tenants could improve their lands and houses. They were afraid I would use the increased value to raise the rents on them. Mulliner got things running as they should."

Having decided on a course of action Mr. Gray sank into his favorite chair. "There was a Board of Governors meeting while I was gone, wasn't there?" Elizabeth asked her father.

"Yes," he sighed.

"Any good news? Will Hogwarts be rid of Mrs. Pilton so we can have a real headmaster?"

Her father leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. "Meetings of the Board of Governors are pointless quarrels moving nowhere. Wilson and his two toadies want to ruin the school. I have Black and Bookbinder firmly behind me. With all the chaos in the world today Hogwarts must preserve its values. Cruikshank, Finster, and O'Brian… Spineless incompetents. Sometimes they side with me, sometimes they side with Wilson. Nothing good will happen with the Board of Governors until we're rid of Wilson."

"So, Mrs. Pilton…?"

"She has accepted the offer as another year as interim head. She has now served as interim longer than the tenure of three of the shorter heads of the school."

"Did you find a new professor for potions?"

That actually brought a laugh from her father, "Yes, and no."

"I don't understand."

"The man we hired to teach potions has taught the subject before at Hogwarts."

Elizabeth's brow wrinkled in thought, "But Professor Clamp must have been there for twenty years. I thought the witch who taught it before him had died."

"She has."

"This is the wizard who taught before her?"

"I really don't know when Mr. Flamel taught potions. But he—"

"How old is he?"

"Very old indeed. Sadly, he only accepted the position for a year—"

"I hope he'll live long enough to finish the year."

"Don't worry, Lizzy, I think Mr. Flamel has any number of good years left."

"It sounds like Hogwarts will not be much different this year from last," his wife remarked.

"No. Fortunately I'm there to block Wilson's plans. Unfortunately he blocks all of mine. A strong Head would help break the impasse, but there seems no chance the Governors will find a candidate that enough of us can agree on."

"Were there any definite plans made in regard to Hanover?"

"Yet another topic without a decision, I fear. Hanover has not been persuaded to recognize Victoria when William dies. They will crown Ernest Augustus as king. I would hope the Germans would continue to be welcome at Hogwarts, but others say it represents a drain on British resources. I've heard the Hanover Wizard's Guild is divided also, with a number favoring Durmstrang. I predict that in a decade it will be rare to find a German at Hogwarts."

His wife looked up from her letter, "Do you have the second sight now?"

"Not a prophecy," he laughed. "I read the newspapers. Prussia has a lean and hungry look, we may see the Germans united in our lifetime."

Mr. and Mrs. Gray discussed plans with Elizabeth before the family retired. Mr. Gray would leave for London in the morning. Mrs. Gray and Elizabeth would take the carriage to visit Anne's parents in two days. Mr. Gray would join them at the Fletchers, when he could.

"Lizzy," her father suggested, "would you like to take the carriage to Hogwarts? You can leave from your grandparents' -- ask some of your friends to travel with you, if you wish."

"But how will the two of you bring Basil?"

Her father smiled, "I don't believe your mother and I are so helpless that we won't be able to reach Hogwarts without the carriage."

"I know Vivien would be delighted. Charlotte may come, but I suspect she has already have made her travel plans… I fear Kitty would find it harder to travel to the Fletchers than Hogwarts."

"I can't tell," her mother asked, "are you saying you would like to take the carriage or that you don't because your friends can't travel with you?"

"I'd love to take the carriage. It might just be Vivien with me, however."

"You could ask Miss Honig to travel with you," her father suggested.

"She's only a third year!"

"Yes, but her father and I do a lot of business together and I would take it as a great favor if you made the gesture."

Elizabeth shrugged, "I will send an invitation to her also," she promised.

As the family discussed plans Mrs. Gray remembered something, "Dear?"

"Yes?"

"When you are in the city, don't be too tidy."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not certain, but I three days ago I found a room so spotless that I can't imagine any of the muggles cleaned it. I fear that Noddy or Pris might be tired of the city house - there is so little to do while we're in the country - and may be sneaking out here to clean."

With their plans set as well as possible with the uncertainly of the China news the family retired. Elizabeth placed the two notes she had received that evening with the one which had already arrived and went to bed confident that the quidditch cup would belong to Slytherin at the end of the school year.

* * *

Yes, the English were smuggling opium into China, and went to war with China when the Chinese government protested. Google "Opium Wars" for the full story.

England and Hanover shared a common ruler beginning with George I. Hanover did not recognize women in the line of succession, however, and with the death of William IV went with another son of George III rather than accepting Victoria as queen.

Prussia created a united Germany after the Franco-Prussian war.


	2. The Journey North, by Carriage

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Hogwarts. I used some places, names, and ghosts from the Harry Potter series, but the primary characters don't appear in this.

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* * *

The Journey North, by Carriage**

Mr. Gray left for the city the next morning, as planned. In the afternoon Mrs. Gray consulted with Mr. Mulliner – and ordered a servant to bring her a large glass of wine after the meeting _finally_ ended. In the evening an owl arrived from Mr. Gray. The _Swallow_ had still not docked, but the Wizard's Guild wished to hear Ripley's report as soon as it had.

Elizabeth spent the following day packing for her final year at Hogwarts. She received answers from her classmates. Vivien, as expected, was absolutely delighted at the prospect. Charlotte and Catherine, equally as expected, sent their regrets. Charlotte reported that family obligations, including marriage plans, would prevent her from accompanying Elizabeth. Isaac Honig sent a note addressed to Mr. Gray that his wife opened. The Jewish merchant thanked them profusely and reported his Deborah would be delighted to accompany Miss Gray on the trip.

The following day Elizabeth and her mother set out to visit Mrs. Gray's parents. Travel by floo would, of course, been much faster – but it was dirty and disorienting. And their absence would have been difficult to explain to the domestic staff. They preferred to let everyone see them leave by carriage. Their coachman, a squib named Geoffrey, knew the value of discretion.

The weather remained clear and beautiful for the journey. Mother and daughter traveled at a leisurely pace and spent one night on the road, then arrived at the Fletchers' home early in the afternoon of the following day.

Oswald Fletcher served the local muggles as apothecary and took credit for his daughter's healing skills and his oldest granddaughter's talents in herbology. He also claimed second sight in one particular area. He could usually predict the house to which the sorting hat would send a new student to Hogwarts. Sometimes the vision came early – and sometimes late. He had predicted Elizabeth would go to Slytherin years before she began classes, but had not foreseen Edward William in Ravenclaw until a week before he started Hogwarts. Mr. Gray remained skeptical of his father-in-law's abilities. "It is no great feat," he pointed out, "to predict a Fletcher will go to Hufflepuff. That is rather like predicting the sun will rise in the east." Mr. Gray suggested that Elizabeth in Slytherin was almost as obvious a prediction, and chalked the prediction of Edward William to Ravenclaw to a lucky guess.

Mrs. Gray's parents came out as the carriage rolled to a stop. "Where are Basil and Pearl?" was the first question from the mouth of Elizabeth's mother after hugging her own mother and father.

"Your brothers are here with their families. Pearl is with Ruby. And Basil borrowed a wand and is hunting werewolves."

"Is that safe?" his daughter asked nervously.

"Should be," her father assured her with a chuckle. "Not a werewolf in a hundred miles – and two weeks from a full moon. Would you like to know what house he'll be in?"

"Yes," Elizabeth asked eagerly. "Will he be in Slytherin?"

"Bad news, darling," her grandfather told her gently, "your brother will be going to Gryffindor." He looked at his daughter, "And I had the vision for Pearl. Good news."

"You mean?" Anne asked excitedly.

"She'll be in Hufflepuff. She and Ruby both. Nothing will separate those two."

Elizabeth looked at her mother, "You'll have a child in each of the four houses?"

"Not all at once," her mother reminded her.

"It certainly will not be the first time it happened," her grandfather pointed out.

Anne laughed, "George may finally have to accept your visions if Basil goes to Gryffindor."

Elizabeth said nothing, but hoped her grandfather was wrong and that her younger brother would join her in Slytherin where she could watch out for him.

Anne's mother spoke up, "Any news on your husband or Edward William?" she asked her daughter. "Your brothers are here. It would be nice if we could have the whole family together."

"Edward William is visiting with friends. I hope an owl or Munin will arrive later today with news from George. I think the Guild might have finished its questions, but I'm certain he has his own. He said he might wait see the _Swallow_ unloaded and speak to the Daigon merchants who were expecting goods. And where are my brothers?"

"Everyone is back at the quidditch pitch. We didn't know when you'd arrive and Robin and the twins want to stay sharp if Hufflepuff is to keep the house cup this year."

Elizabeth hastily kissed her grandparents on the cheeks, then grabbed her broom from the carriage and headed into the woods behind the Fletcher cottage.

The Fletcher cottage stood in front of a thick forest growth with an evil reputation among the near-by muggles. Generations of Fletchers had encouraged the stories as a way to insure greater privacy. A variety of charms added to the unease of any strangers visiting the cottage and most muggles consulted Mr. Fletcher at his shop in the nearby village. Visitors only came to the cottage, especially after dark, if their need was great. In a small clearing not far behind the cottage, the family maintained a small quidditch pitch.

Elizabeth heard the laughter, and the crack of bat against bludger, before she reached the clearing.

"Lizzy," Robert called as soon as he saw her. "Get up here, the twins need some practice getting the quaffle by you."

"They didn't have much success last year," she pointed out as she got on her broom and took to the air.

One of her uncles, who was serving as keeper, left his position to allow Elizabeth to take over.

After the exchange of positions Robert reminded her, "But Hufflepuff still beat Slytherin."

"That was last year. This year the cup belongs to Slytherin."

Her cousin laughed, "The same wager as always?"

"Of course," she said, blocking one of the twins from moving the quaffle through a hoop.

Her cousins were all in Hufflepuff. Robert, 'Robin', Fletcher in his seventh year was Elizabeth's rival for best in herbology. They had each been first in their class for three of their first six years and whoever could take first this final year would have bragging rights over the other for the rest of their lives. Robert was both handsome and popular, which excited some envy towards Elizabeth because the two were best friends and some students suspected the two were destined for each other. Thomas and Thomas were in their fifth year. When their fathers discovered their wives were pregnant at the same time each had declared he wanted the name Thomas if his wife had a son – and accepted they would have to chose another name if his brother's wife had a son first. The owls crossed on the day the two were born and both were christened Thomas. Frederick's wife never recovered from the birth of their first, and only child, and he had raised his Thomas largely by himself. Arthur and his wife, Robert's parents, had a third child, a daughter Ruby, the same age as Elizabeth's sister Pearl.

Elizabeth spent the rest of the afternoon in the air. The twins, as Hogwarts students referred to Thomas and Thomas, were not outstanding chasers but they played the position at a high enough level to provide reasonable practice for Elizabeth. Her uncle Frederick worked with them as they practiced. She had some defensive moves in mind that she wanted to practice herself - but preferred not to reveal them to another team. Before her arrival Robin had tried to practice at his position, but without a second beater it lacked the dynamics of the real game. When his father surrendered the keeper position to Elizabeth he got in some real practice until Pearl and Ruby ran back to watch. Fearing a loose bludger Robert wrestled the metal sphere to the ground and put it away.

"What's Hufflepuff doing for a seeker this year?" Elizabeth called as Robert took the role of an opposing chaser and tried to strip the quaffle from the twins.

"Not sure. Brigid O'Shaughnessy predicts her younger sister will earn the spot."

Elizabeth threw an elbow and kept one of the twins from stuffing the quaffle through a hoop. She tossed the leather ball to Robin and the twins attacked him to steal it away. "The little girl?"

Tall Thomas called, "We sometimes call them the elephant and the mouse. What will Slytherin have?"

"I'm not certain. The Owl really wants the position, but he was not impressive at practice last year. I'm going to order everyone out for trials -- I hope to discover a diamond in the rough."

"And you need chasers too," Robin reminded her as she stopped Dark Thomas from scoring.

"I have a plan. I--"

"Slytherins always have plans," a Thomas laughed.

"They would rather scheme than work," the other agreed.

Mrs. Gray and her sister-in-law came out later in the afternoon to watch the practice. They declined an offer to join the practice session - preferring to wait until the actual family game was played. The four students were all happy to leave the air when Grandmother Fletcher called that dinner was ready. Ruby begged a ride on her father's shoulders for the walk back to the cottage, and when Mrs. Gray told Pearl she was not strong enough to carry her on her shoulders the little girl gave her sister a forlorn look and Elizabeth swung the little girl up on her shoulders.

"Slytherin should have made a beater of you, Lizzy," a twin suggested. "You're strong enough."

"You're only saying that because with anyone else at keeper Hufflepuff could score more points."

During dinner Basil reported on his hunt for werewolves. He felt confident that he had come across tracks, but when he had followed them they led to a neighbor's farm and a kennel where a large dog was kept. "Do you think a werewolf could try and throw me off with fake tracks?" he asked his grandfather.

"You might be right," his grandfather told him solemnly.

Even with the magical spare rooms the cottage was crowded, but Elizabeth didn't mind. It felt good to be with Robin and the twins.

The next day was spent very much like the day of her arrival, with Mrs. Gray spending the day with her brothers and parents and the Hogwarts students on the quidditch pitch.

In the evening Munin appeared with news that Mr. Gray would arrive in the morning. Elizabeth and Robin spent the evening arguing over how the family members should be divided for a family game of quidditch after Elizabeth's father arrived.

Mr. Gray arrived early enough the next morning to join the family at breakfast. He looked tired.

"Did the Guild exhaust you with questions?" his wife asked.

"No. There isn't much we know at this point, and probably even less we can actually do. We'll have a better sense of the report when the _Fair Wind_ arrives. The problem was the Daigon merchants. Ollivander's was expecting a number of items…" He shuddered slightly.

"I take it that your meeting was not with young Mr. Ollivander."

"Old Mr. Ollivander is not an easy man to deal with. His opinion seemed to fluctuate between the idea that I had ordered my ship not to bring me the goods he wanted, and the idea that his materials had arrived and I was trying to extort him into paying more to obtain them. I was seriously afraid that he might have me talk with old, old Mr. Ollivander."

"Surely he's dead."

"Perhaps. I'm not sure if that would stop the Ollivanders or not. The last I knew he was still in his rooms over the shop."

His wife insisted that he relax for the rest of the day. Despite his conviction that he should be 'doing something' George Gray managed to spend the rest of the day with his two younger children and taking a long walk with his wife.

Anne Gray managed to intercept Munin before the raven saw her husband. When the bird told her that none of his information fell into the category of urgent she offered him a sickle to return to London.

What do you think he does with his money?" Elizabeth asked as she watched the bird fly away.

"I've no idea… Given his age he probably has a great deal… But given some of things I've heard him say I suspect I am happier not knowing his goals."

After a large breakfast the next day the family played quidditch. None of the four students were allowed to play the positions they played on their house teams. Elizabeth, a keeper, played beater opposite her father. They only used one bludger in the game. "When you two are a little bigger," Oswald Fletcher told his granddaughters, Pearl and Ruby, "we'll be able to field full teams."

"Will we be beaters?" Pearl asked, clearly a little frightened at the idea.

"No, darling. You two will probably be chasers, maybe seekers. We'll wait and see."

Robert, a beater, served as a chaser. And Thomas and Thomas took positions as keepers. The grandparents played as seekers and the generation of parents joined Robert as chasers.

Elizabeth and her father were perhaps the only two to take the game seriously. The others were simply there to enjoy themselves. The sound of laughter was more common on the pitch than the sound of clubs smacking into bludgers. Part of Elizabeth objected to the fact no one even kept score. She tried herself for the first hour, but was too busy keeping the bludger away from her teammates to feel confident about the score in her head.

Grandpa Fletcher had gained a little weight since the previous year and wasn't flying as fast. Grandma Fletcher caught the snitch and everyone landed as the equipment was stored away before returning to the cottage for a late lunch and to replay the game in their conversation.

Elizabeth planned to leave the next morning for the trip north to Hogwarts, but Geoffrey failed to arrive at the expected hour.

Vivien Kestrel arrived via floo soon after breakfast. The general opinion of the wizards at Hogwarts was that Vivien represented the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, or could ever imagine. The twins tripped over themselves in their haste to offer her any hospitality she might wish.

Elizabeth had been Vivien's closest friend since the two began Hogwarts together. Miss Kestrel was vain and demanding and there were times Elizabeth felt used in the friendship. Elizabeth suspected that many of the wizards who asked her for a dance at the Hogwarts balls were hoping for an introduction to Vivien through Elizabeth. Miss Gray had not made up her mind if she should be pleased to be asked to dance so often, or insulted that the men who danced with her only hoped to use her to get closer to Miss Kestrel.

Forty minutes after Vivien stepped out of the fireplace it flared again and Isaac Honig arrived with a large trunk, he was followed by his daughter Deborah, carrying a small white bakery box. The Jewish merchant set down the trunk and took the box from his daughter.

The twins were currently engaged in asking if Miss Kestrel wanted anything, anything at all. Something to drink? Something to eat? Could they adjust the cushions to make her more comfortable? Elizabeth shook her head in disgust and caught Robin's eye, "Could you carry Miss Honig's trunk outside and leave it by Vivien's?"

Robert nodded and took the trunk out.

Mr. Honig presented the box to Prudence Fletcher. "Rugelach," he said he answer to her puzzled look. The merchant was only of medium height, but he was broad and seemed a much larger man with his sweeping gestures and booming laugh. He gave a hug to Mr. Gray - to the obvious embarrassment of the other man and his own daughter who had been raised in London and had imbibed of English restraint. Isaac also gave a hug to Mrs. Gray, but had not been introduced to the other Fletchers and spared them.

"Thank you for asking my Deborah to travel with your Elizabeth," he told the Grays.

"No thanks are necessary," Elizabeth assured him. "It is a long ride and Miss Kestrel and I will be glad for her company on the way."

He bowed in her direction, "It is kind of you to say so. She says you've helped her at Hogwarts. I am grateful."

"With the honors she has brought to Slytherin? We are grateful to have her."

Deborah Honig had inherited her father's dark curly hair, but her mother's straight nose. In a world changing so very quickly the young witch sometimes felt lost between the conflicting demands of traditions her parents respected and the values of both the larger world and the insular world of Hogwarts.

Geoffrey still had not arrived. The twins spent their time in vain attempts to impress Vivien as they waited. Robert expressed some jealousy that Elizabeth would arrive at Hogwarts by carriage.

When Isaac Honig heard of grandfather Fletcher's talent in predicting houses he asked if the apothecary could tell him what house his son, who would begin Hogwarts in a year, would attend.

Mr. Fletcher shook his head, "I can only 'see' the house if I meet the youngster. You're welcome to bring him out. I can't guarantee a reading though. He pointed to his youngest granddaughters, "Know these two will go Hufflepuff, and that's two years away." He pointed to Basil, "Didn't see this one in Gryffindor until five days ago."

"But you can see the house for those outside your family?"

"Usually. A number of friends have asked me to predict… I don't always receive a vision, but I've not erred yet when I see the house."

Mr. Gray smiled, "If Basil goes to Gryffindor I'll admit you have the sight."

"We'll see," his father-in-law smiled.

The two little girls found the Jewish merchant, who smelled vaguely of the exotic spices, perfumes, and incense he sold, fascinating. He entertained them with a gold coin, making it seem to vanish and then appearing to pull it out of one of their ears.

"I don't understand," Frederick Fletcher mused, "that isn't magic."

"A little sleight-of-hand," Mr. Honig admitted.

"But why?"

Isaac laughed, "If, God forbid, a muggle in my store should someday see something he or she should not, I can make a show of such stage magic and they will dismiss the testimony of their own eyes."

When the carriage pulled up at the cottage Geoffrey apologized, "Had a problem with the harness."

The trunks for the three young women were quickly stowed. Before they could leave Mr. Gray remembered something and dashed into the cottage for a small parcel, "Give this to Flinn when you reach the school," he told Elizabeth, handing it to her.

"Take care of my little honeybee," Mr. Honig requested.

There were calls of goodbye and waves from those inside and outside the carriage, then Geoffrey shook the reins and the journey to Hogwarts for Elizabeth's final year began.

For the first few miles the older witches caught up on news and Miss Honig remained silent, feeling slightly in awe of the seventh year students. As the journey continued she felt more at ease and joined in the conversation.

"We really need to do something about our appearance," Vivien observed in the mid-afternoon. "It is utterly inappropriate for three young women to be traveling alone."

"Do something, as in give you a chance to show off your skill with charms?" Elizabeth asked.

Miss Kestrel laughed. "Perhaps." She uttered a spell and instead of a young woman with platinum blonde hair an aged clergyman sat opposite them in the carriage. Even her voice was changed into a cracked and querulous tone, "See, an elderly vicar traveling with his nieces. What could be more innocent?"

Miss Honig stared in amazement, "You did that so well! Even your voice is… Was that part of the charm or just a skill you possess?"

"Part of the charm," Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes at the way her friend showed off, "she's always been first in our class at charms."

Deborah leaned forward, trying to find any mistake in the charm. Appearance charms were notoriously ephemeral and their presence could often be detected with a close look.

"Do you see any problem with it?" the aged clergyman asked.

The young witch shook her head no. "It is the finest I've ever seen."

Vivien laughed at the compliment, took the young witch's hand and guided it to her hair. Miss Honig could not see the blonde tresses, but could feel them. The touch appeared to break the charm and it began to flicker and disappear.

"Could you teach me to do that," the younger witch asked.

"Perhaps. Appearance charms require a moderate degree of… Which of the Weirds takes first in charms, was that you?"

Deborah blushed slightly. She, Sarah Cooper, and Poppaea Crouch did not appreciate being called the Weird Sisters, and disliked the Weirds even more. "No, it is Miss Cooper who has taken the first in charms the last two years."

"You were first in astronomy and transfiguration, weren't you?" Elizabeth asked.

The Jewish witch smiled, grateful for the fact the older student remembered it correctly, "Yes, I was."

"I don't know if skill with transfiguration will do you any good," Vivien warned, "Lizzy took a first in transfiguration twice, but never did well with charms. She can do a passable young man, at least for a face. She can't change the appearance of her clothing or voice."

"At least it's stable," Elizabeth said defensively.

"The problem of appearance charms," Vivien sighed. She turned to the younger witch, "The greater the change in appearance, such as changing clothing or voice, the more difficult it is to maintain the charm for any length of time."

"And they are so difficult," Deborah added. "I don't think Miss Cooper has mastered one. Why master such difficult charms with so few uses?"

"Because I can," Vivien laughed, and ran through more than a half dozen appearance charms, all with a change of clothing and different tones of voice.

Part-way through the demonstration Elizabeth noticed two things. First, she found that Vivien, despite all her skill, still had minor flaws that Elizabeth caught in some charms. Elizabeth smiled to herself, those were also the charms that Vivien passed over the most quickly – afraid that the younger witch would detect the weakness as well. Second, Elizabeth also noted that the third year had taken on a thoughtful air. "What is the matter?" she asked.

Deborah blushed. "Nothing," she lied.

Vivien suspected the meaning, "You are wondering what I really look like."

"No! I… I wouldn't think of such a thing."

"It would be perfectly natural for you to wonder about it. And the answer is, I don't use charms to enhance my appearance. Only polyjuice potion can truly change a person's looks – and even that is only temporary." Deborah said nothing, but Vivien believed that she was not convinced. "Did you say Miss Cooper took honors in charms?"

"Yes."

"She could probably perform the Cassandra spectacles charm."

"I don't think I--"

"Placed on a pair of spectacles, it allows the wearer to see through any charm. It can't see through transfigurations, of course, but it useful if you believe someone wants to deceive you in appearance. Powerful witches and wizards can see through appearance charms without aid. With Cassandra spectacles even a muggle could see through an appearance charm."

Elizabeth laughed, "Should we tell her about the Xerxes spectacle charm?"

Vivien joined in the laughter, "We should."

Deborah looked as lost as she felt, "Xerxes spectacle charm? I've not heard of that."

"It enables the person wearing the spectacles to see through another person's clothing," Vivien giggled.

The younger witch blushed, "I've not heard of such a spell."

"How soon they forget," Elizabeth sighed.

"We invented it in our second year," Vivien explained.

"You invented a charm that lets someone see through clothing?"

"Of course not," Elizabeth clarified. "No such charm exists. We invented the story of such a charm existing. Wizards would spending hours in the library, looking through every book on charms Hogwarts owns--"

"And Hogwarts owns many books on charms," Miss Kestrel interrupted.

"Because they wanted to find the charm. Poor Professor Ogden was besieged by students wanting to know the secret."

"And he wasn't willing to say he'd never heard of it," Vivien added, "so he told them they were too young to be allowed the spell. I'm quite certain he stayed in the library after hours looking for it himself."

Miss Gray came to the defense of the charms teacher, "If he did it was only because he didn't want to admit ignorance of the charm."

"Undoubtedly," Miss Kestrel agreed with mock solemnity. Then all three witches burst into laughter.

When the three calmed down Miss Kestrel pouted, "I wanted to take out a classified ad in the Daily Prophet, offering to mail the charm to anyone who sent in twenty-five knuts. But Lizzy wouldn't allow me to have any fun."

"Your fun is pronounced fraud," Elizabeth argued.

"And who would have complained? We could have threatened to tell the parents of any young wizard who sent in his money - or simply reveal the names of any older wizard."

"And that, Vivien, is pronounced blackmail."

Miss Kestrel leaned forward, and in a loud theatrical whisper warned Miss Honig, "Elizabeth Gray does not believe in having fun."

The charge of not having any fun provoked Elizabeth to bring up the topic of quidditch, although it did her little good. Vivien could remember their first year at Hogwarts, when Slytherin had last won the quidditch cup. Like many other students she had lost her passion during the years of Gryffindor's dominance and seemed little inclined to change for her final year. Deborah had little interest in quidditch except to inquire nervously if Elizabeth could suggest her cousin Robert ask her for a dance at one of the school balls.

"He might," Vivien yawned, "he usually asks charity cases and Elizabeth."

"Vivien!"

"Well, he's never asked me."

"You have your dance card filled out a week before a ball."

"I might drop someone for him, if he asked. He waits until the ball and then asks girls who haven't been asked."

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

"He may not have money, but he looks good and dances well. It would be a pleasure to dance with him." There was a moment's silence before Miss Kestrel laughed and turned to the younger witch. "You will see me dance with Robert Fletcher before you see Elizabeth dance with Mr. Potter of Gryffindor."

Elizabeth blushed and said nothing, hoping the topic of conversation would change. But Deborah was mildly curious about the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

"What happened to his nose?"

"He tried to stop a bludger with his face."

"He what?"

Elizabeth sighed, "His first game as a beater. He got excited and missed the bludger, but it did not miss him. The witch in charge of the infirmary at the time failed with her healing spell. She was sacked and Mr. Strout brought in. Mr. Strout studied surgery at Edinburgh and has a vague sense of what a nose should look like." Elizabeth hoped that would satisfy Miss Honig's curiosity, but Vivien was not yet ready to drop the subject.

"And the two will never dance because he made a fool of her on his first day at Hogwarts - or rather, she made a fool of herself and she would rather blame him."

"Miss Honig does not want to hear the story," Elizabeth responded. She turned to the younger girl, "Do you?"

The Jewish witch looked nervous, "Actually, I am curious."

"I don't like him because of the way Gryffindor dominated quidditch play!" Elizabeth insisted.

Vivien ignored her, "It was Mr. Potter's first day at Hogwarts. There is something peculiar about his late arrival, but I don't know that story. What matters is this stranger was standing with the students. He looked too old to be a first year, but none of us recognized him, and he had on some outlandish hat. Elizabeth, who prides herself on knowing fashion, went over and told him to take off his Phrygian cap--"

"I was trying to do him a favor, keep him from making a fool of himself."

"Which is when Professor Quirrell came over and asked, 'Mr. Potter, glad you could be here. Is that an authentic-- What did he call that thing, Elizabeth?"

"A chullo."

"Years ago, and she still remembers. Apparently the wizards somewhere in the American wear such things."

"I dislike the dwarf because of the times Gryffindor beat Slytherin at quidditch."

Deborah looked puzzled, "But he's not a dwarf."

"He's almost two inches shorter than I."

"She forgets she is the tallest witch at Hogwarts," Vivien reminded Deborah in a stage whisper. "She is taller than every other witch at the school, and most of the wizards."

It was not a fact which Elizabeth forgot, ever. And she felt grateful as Geoffrey announced they were near their destination.

The length of the trip required the trio spend three nights on the road. The first day's journey had fortunately been short, given their late start. They spent the night with a friend who had left Slytherin two years earlier.

As they packed their belongings for the second day's journey Miss Honig noticed Elizabeth putting away the small package her father had given her.

"Who is Flinn?"

"Wait for the ride. Elizabeth and house elves requires miles of conversation," Miss Kestrel warned.

"A house elf?"

"Miss Gray is friends with house elves."

"I am not friends with house elves," Elizabeth retorted.

"You simply carry packages for them."

Miss Gray fell silent, hoping the subject would be forgotten.

During the second day's journey the talk turned again to charms when Deborah asked Vivien, "Miss Crouch found a charm that enables two people to read each other's minds. Professor Ogden said you were the only witch he knew who had ever mastered it… Could it be used to join the minds of three people?"

"You are hoping to use it to insure the three of you share the best answers for the final examinations?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth and Vivien looked at each other nervously. Vivien turned to the young witch, "Was the spell called the 'thieves' charm' or the 'test of true love charm'?"

"I believe it was called the thieves' charm. I've not heard of the—"

"It's the same charm," Vivien told her. "One story is that thieves used it to know what their partners were doing. The other story is that you could use it to see if the person you loved truly loved you. It will not do what you want."

"It doesn't work?"

"It works," Elizabeth told her with a shudder. "You do _not_ want to attempt it."

"But—"

"No," Vivien told her emphatically.

"Why not?"

"Because we did it, or rather, Vivien performed the charm – with me as her partner," Miss Gray explained.

"It didn't work properly?"

"It worked perfectly," Vivien sniffed. "All my charms work."

"It worked better than we expected," Elizabeth explained. "Too well. Imagine every thought that goes through your head being shared with another. Not only the thoughts you want to share, but the slightest idea. Bodily functions, finding someone attractive, thinking someone has foul breath on a particular day, anything and everything in your mind is shared with the other person – and the charm lasts for several days. No thief would want a partner to know what he truly thought."

"And love requires a certain amount of dishonesty," Miss Kestrel insisted.

"Vivien!"

"It's the truth. We all harbor some unpleasant thoughts – even for the people we like. I believe Elizabeth and I hated each other for two months when the charm finally wore off," Vivien finished. "And we were friends. You and the other Weirds are rivals. Do you really want them to know every thing you think of them?"

Deborah thought for a minute, then shook her head no.

"Much as I like my friend Elizabeth," Vivien finished, "having her in my head was worse than being turned into a toad."

"You were turned into a toad?"

"You haven't heard the story?"

"No."

"Elizabeth, you tell it," Vivien ordered.

"I don't see why I should tell it," Elizabeth complained. "You planned out the details."

"But you were the one who did the transfiguration."

"And you were the one who collected the money from the raffle."

Miss Honig appeared at a loss. "Could either of you explain, please?"

"Elizabeth, as I said, is good at transfigurations. When we were fourth years – before you came – she wanted to try and transform someone into a toad. It was advanced magic and very dangerous for a fourth year. So, of course, she asked her dearest friend in the world to sacrifice herself."

"My dearest friend in the world," Elizabeth interrupted, "saw that the charm could be broken with a kiss. She raffled off the chance to kiss her – without telling anyone they would be kissing her as a toad.

"I made several galleons," Vivien reported.

"Who won the raffle?" Deborah asked.

"A Mr. Dingle of Ravenclaw," the blonde witch yawned. "Terribly dull. He said he felt cheated – but I gave him the first dance at the next ball."

During the mid-afternoon the conversation turned more personal. The two older witches talked about their friend Charlotte Cattermole's engagement to her cousin James, who had left Slytherin a year earlier. "They might serve as an argument against cousins getting married," Elizabeth suggested.

Vivien snorted, "With their long faces and big teeth they probably couldn't find other partners." She sighed, "At least they know their futures. Will you and Robert announce your engagement?"

Elizabeth looked cross, "Why do you keep asking that?"

"Because the two of you are always together. Because you share the same interests. Because you're family. He cares so much for you he can ignore me. Did you see him at your grandparents' home? The twins were fawning on me and he ignored me."

"Feelings hurt because he finds you a flirt?"

"I am not a flirt."

"With any rich wizard you are." Elizabeth regretted the words as soon as they left her lips and she saw Vivien darken with anger. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Yes you did. Your father's rich. You can ignore if a wizard has money or not. I can't."

"We're not rich! Most of father's money went into improvements on the estate we don't--"

"Listen to yourself! Has your clothing allowance been reduced? Your father could sell the estate tomorrow and get back every farthing he put into it."

"Money is not that important. What matters is--"

"How would you know," Vivien sneered. "You've never known want. There are days I'd consider marriage to a muggle just to secure my future."

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence in the carriage. "I am sorry. But I've told you, Robin and I are simply friends. You have every wizard at Hogwarts worshiping the ground you walk on—"

"Not every wizard," Vivien muttered. "The two or three with real money ignore me."

There was another period of silence, finally broken by Miss Honig who tactfully changed the direction of the conversation only slightly. "I believe I am engaged to be married," Deborah told them.

"You believe you are engaged?" Vivien scoffed, "You don't know?"

"I heard my parents talking. They have been writing to his parents—"

"What's his name?" Vivien demanded. "Does he go to Hogwarts?"

"I don't know his name. He is Polish, and Jewish and—"

"Does he go to Durmstrang?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"Durmstrang does not accept Jewish wizards," Deborah said firmly. "I believe I heard he is apprenticed to a powerful wizard in Lublin."

Elizabeth and Vivien quizzed the younger witch for the next several miles about her possible engagement, but since Deborah knew no details they discovered it provided little in the form of entertainment. But it did provide the two older witches with the opportunity to speak of something other than their quarrel, and they found other topics for conversation when interest in Deborah's fiancé waned.

"Should we talk about Elizabeth and house elves now?" Miss Kestrel suggested.

Miss Gray shot back, "No."

"All the stories embarrass her," Vivien assured the Jewish witch.

Deborah looked nervous, "I don't think I need to hear about—"

"She used to dress one up as a doll!"

"What?"

Elizabeth sighed, she would need to tell her version of the story to keep Vivien from telling hers. "My father went to India before my brother had been born. Despite what Vivien said we were not wealthy, my father worked very hard in India… I don't think he knew my brother was even on the way. Yes, I dressed up the house elf and made him drink tea with me. I didn't realize how much it humiliated him. My mother told him that since I was not the master or mistress of the house it could not be considered dismissing him. Noddy was a great help taking care of us until father returned. Later, when we had money, we thanked him by purchasing the service of his wife."

"So, who is this Flinn?" Deborah asked.

"They have a son in service at Hogwarts."

Elizabeth would have gladly stopped the conversation there. Indeed, Miss Gray might have wished the conversation had never occurred, but Miss Kestrel wasn't finished.

"All the house elves at Hogwarts think she is special."

"Please, I—" Elizabeth protested.

"Because she didn't know much about them." Deborah looked perplexed, and the blonde witch continued, "She was trying to see what boggarts eat—"

Miss Honig turned to Elizabeth, "Do you keep a boggart in your wardrobe the way they say?"

"Yes. I don't know what they say," Elizabeth answered, "but I've tried to learn more about them."

"Anyway," Vivien continued, "she left out a bowl of milk. A bowl of milk is a way to say thank you to a house elf. The next morning the milk was gone, and Elizabeth thought the boggart had drank it. She left another bowl of milk out – gone in the morning. How long did it take you do discover that it wasn't the boggart?"

Elizabeth ignored the question.

"She finally read something on house elves and realized her mistake, but she was too embarrassed to admit the error so she still does it every now and then," Vivien laughed.

"Well, they do small favors for me," Elizabeth protested weakly.

"They'd cut off their own heads for her if she asked them to. Honestly, I think she flatters them worse than she flatters old Saxifrage."

"I don't flatter Professor Saxifrage! Not like you and Professor Ogden."

"I don't flatter Professor Ogden. He likes me, says I'm the best charms student he's ever had."

"Well, Professor Saxifrage likes me."

"Do you leave bowls of milk out for her too?"

Even without the thieves' charm, being enclosed in a small carriage with a person, even a friend, can sometimes prove irritating. The two older witches said little to each other until they arrived at the home of a sixth year student where they planned to stay the night. They stayed up even later than the night before lost in conversation - despite the fact they would all be together at Hogwarts in two days.

The third day was spent talking of the London fashions and what might be different by Christmas break. Deborah worked hard on the appearance charm that Vivien suggested and the young witch progressed to a point just short of Elizabeth's ability with the charm. She could assume the face of a young man, although it looked curiously odd with the long hair and dress that Deborah could not hide any more than she could change her voice.

At the end of the third day the three spent a miserable night at the home of Elizabeth's uncle, Richard Gray. The day had been the longest of the journey and dusk had fallen before they arrived. Supper was cold and barely edible and conversation utterly lacking at the table. After the meal he showed them to a large but poorly furnished bedroom at the end of a dusty hall and left them with a single rush light that guttered terribly and stank of beef tallow.

"Lumos," Vivien called and examined the room by the light of her wand. After a minute of looking at the furnishings and two paintings she turned to Elizabeth. "I thought your family had money."

Her friend frowned, "Exactly what do you mean?"

"I mean this place reeks of decay. I thought you said this was your father's older brother and this is the ancestral home."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Uncle Richard inherited the house and such money as grandfather had. The only thing for my father in the will was the house elf—"

"The one you dressed?"

"Yes… I think Noddy was old even then. All the money went to his older brother. Father worked hard for what we have. None of us know what has happened with Uncle Richard. He had money. Perhaps he still has money secreted somewhere." Elizabeth hesitated, she hated to speak ill of a relative. "Perhaps he lost the money through poor investments or failed business plans. My family has individuals who have sometimes done business at the margins of legality."

"They would sell rope to gnoles?" Vivien asked.

"That is the rumor, and perhaps not even as a figure of speech."

"I don't think I know that saying," Deborah interjected.

"Do you know the saying, 'Count your fingers after shaking hands with a goblin'?"

"Yes."

"Goblins are more to be trusted in business dealings."

All three were glad to be away early in the morning after a miserly breakfast They stopped for an early lunch at a public house. The remaining distance to Hogwarts was relatively short, so Vivien decreed that they linger.

"I want to get to Hogwarts. I want to see my friends!" Elizabeth protested.

"You will be with your friends for months after today," Vivien answered. "I want to be seen arriving by carriage. If we arrive too soon there will not be enough there for a grand entrance."

Elizabeth, from experience, knew there was no arguing with Vivien's vanity.

Shortly after noon Vivien allowed the trio to leave. The team of horses passed several slower wagons as they finished their journey. Vivien always bestowed a gracious and regal wave at the students traveling more humbly. They also met a few carts and wagons coming away from Hogwarts after they finished their deliveries.

First night of the new term at Hogwarts, always a day of excitement. Always the most dangerous day of the year for the school.

* * *

Rural health needs were often served by apothecaries and barbers. Physicians tended to practice in cities and didn't touch patients. Surgeons actually studied human anatomy. Midwives were everywhere. Physicians took on airs and began calling themselves doctors in the 19th century

Rush light - a rush (Americans: think cattails) dipped in animal fat and set on fire - the cheapest light after the sun.


	3. First Night

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. Although I used some places, names, and ghosts from her Harry Potter series, if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you need to look elsewhere. They're not here.

**First Night**

Students arrived for Hogwarts by various means, which included rented carts and wagons driven by muggles. For the opening of the school year the warding spells and confundus charms which had protected Hogsmeade since the year the Covenanters attacked the school and village were removed. Residents of the village wore muggle fashions and tried to conform appearances to outside standards.

"Did I hear there is talk of a steam engine bringing students to school?" Vivien asked.

"Talk, yes," Elizabeth agreed. "Mr. Wilson, on the Board of Governors, wants rails laid to Hogsmeade. He says it will be safer if muggles aren't given free entry."

"Rails? For a steam locomotive?" Deborah asked.

"Exactly. I've seen one of them… They do not look comfortable. My father's fighting the proposal. He believes iron rails would direct muggles to Hogsmeade."

Vivien looked thoughtful, "I don't think I would care for a steam carriage. I know someone who rode in one. She thought it was exciting, but filthy and uncomfortable. I like the style of a proper carriage. I do not want to be packed in with everyone."

Conversation lagged as they drew nearer the school. They saw more students they knew, along with families bringing worried looking first years.

Parents referred to the opening of the school year as First Night. Many accompanied their children to Hogsmeade and spent the night catching up with news from old friends, waiting for news about what first year students had been assigned to which house and generally partying and drinking too much.

There were enough students and parents already at Hogsmeade for Vivien to make the grand entrance she desired as she alighted from the carriage. The eyes of the male students, parents, and villagers were drawn to her and she smiled at her adoring audience.

Geoffrey took the carriage and horses to Wells Saddlery, the best stable at Hogsmeade, for the Gray's return trip. "Only honest Wells in the world runs the stable," was the opinion Mr. Gray had often expressed in regard to the Wells family. "The rest of them will come to bad ends." When his wife questioned if he had second sight his response was, "Well, if there is any justice in the world they will come to bad ends."

Students had begun the process of grouping themselves with friends and acquaintances as they waited for the evening and the trip to the school. Some were in groups based on their houses, some in groups based on their year at the school, and others based on shared interests and activities such as the dueling club.

Professor Ogden found the three soon after their arrival and presented them with two small metal disks. The translation charms on the disks allowed them to understand Gaelic and German. The charm needed to be renewed every two weeks, but decreased the level of miscommunication in the school. "Should just go back to Latin," the middle-aged professor complained, "fewer charms needed. Have you seen Professor Sauberkehren or Mr. Schafer?"

"No."

"Well I need them for the German to English charm and German to Gaelic. Don't know what we'll do when Mr. Schafer graduates next year."

Elizabeth looked for her family, but did not see her parents and Basil. Vivien saw none of the wizards she hoped to see and resolved to stay with Elizabeth for the time being. It would never do to be seen in the company of the 'wrong' wizard should a 'right' one appear. Elizabeth knew enough of Miss Kestrel's plans to not feel too slighted should she be suddenly abandoned. Miss Honig saw one of her rivals, Miss Crouch, and left the two older witches to share news from the summer.

Deborah Honig, Poppaea Crouch, and Sarah Cooper were third years united by little save being in Slytherin and their mutual hatred of Aaron Andrews of Hufflepuff. Miss Honig, the only Jew at Hogwarts, always felt like something of an outsider. Why Sarah Cooper had been assigned to Slytherin perplexed everyone. Her parents were muggles, greengrocers, and she had been ignored by Slytherins who found her an insult to their house. She had responded by ignoring others in the house. Miss Crouch had been among those who ignored Miss Cooper. During their first term, however, it had become apparent that the three of them were among the top students in every class. Miss Honig and Miss Cooper, both feeling like outsiders and estranged from the other students, eventually became friends and began to study together. Miss Crouch, desperately afraid that the other two might surpass her had joined herself with them for study. All three were eager for the honor of being the top student in their class, this led them to being with the other two almost constantly for fear that any one of them might somehow gain an advantage on the other two. It also explained their shared hatred for Mr. Andrews of Hufflepuff.

The Weird Sisters, as the trio had come to be called, held firsts in every course except history.

"As if history meant anything," Miss Crouch sniffed when the fact was mentioned.

But while Mr. Andrews only managed a first in history he was usually second, or a very close third in each of the classes in which the Weird Sisters received their firsts. He had been recognized as the top first year student in their first year. He had been recognized as top second year student last year. The Weird Sisters hated Aaron Andrews so deeply they would have preferred, despite their mutual jealousies, to see any one of them win recognition as the best among the third year students.

In the early afternoon students and parents were a constant stream to Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks, on the main street in the village, presented a respectable air and any muggles who had brought passengers to this curious village they could not remember hearing of before were welcome to stop for a drink before returning home. The public house had a number of faculty there to use memory charms if any drivers appeared to have seen too much - and to insure that no one tried to cheat the driver of his hire by use of a memory charm.

The faculty had already been called on to edit muggle memories when Claudius Malfoy landed an aethonon shortly before Elizabeth's arrived. Riding a flying horse when muggles were present had almost brought a number of curses on his head, "Slytherin will lose points for that," Professor Turpin threatened.

The seventh year yawned at her, "How can you assign a penalty when school has not yet started?" He stabled his mount and went in search of something stronger than pumpkin juice to drink while the faculty repaired the damage he had caused.

Since First Night required keeping the fireplace at The Three Broomsticks off-limits to students, those students and parents who wished to arrive by floo came through the fireplace at The Goblin's Head. Local etiquette dictated that anyone arriving by floo order a drink, or at the very least put the price of a drink in a large glass jar on the counter. Elizabeth and Vivien strolled to The Goblin's Head to see if any friends were arriving.

"What is that," Vivien demanded, pointing to a new object over the public house.

"It looks like a sign," Elizabeth answered.

Vivien gave her a dirty look, "Of course it's a sign. But what does it say?"

"You can't read it? All these years I thought you knew how to read. Or do you need glasses?"

"You are really quite impossible today."

"Sorry. I'm always giddy on First Night."

"Why does the sign in front of The Goblin's Head read The Hog's Head?"

"Why do you keep asking questions to which you either already know the answers, or to which I am equally ignorant as to the answer?"

Apparently others questioned the change of name as well. As they drew near the door a father stood outside with a nervous girl, obviously awaiting the start of her first year. He pointed to a bit of rusted iron sticking out from the mortar, "That's what is left. When I started at Hogwarts an iron pike stuck out from the wall, a little iron cage hung from the pike with the head of a goblin inside. It had been there since a goblin army attacked Hogwarts." The cage had fallen and disappeared before Elizabeth entered Hogwarts, but the remains of the iron pikestaff itself had been there for her first two years before rusting off.

The two greeted those friends they found in the new Hog's Head ("It smells just like the old Goblin's Head," Vivien sniffed.) They noticed Mr. Malfoy sitting to one side of the main room, but to Vivien's disgust he showed more interest in the glass in front of him than her.

While they chatted with a sixth year wizard the fireplace flared and Brigid O'Shaughnessy stepped out, a trunk under each arm. Elizabeth smiled and waved. The blonde witch had no hand free to wave, but smiled and nodded at Elizabeth. While not close friends the two were sisters in misery. Elizabeth was only slightly taller than Miss O'Shaughnessy, but the blonde witch had the build of a blacksmith and was the largest witch at Hogwarts. Almost as soon as Brigid stepped out of the fireplace it flared again and Erin O'Shaughnessy, owner of one of the trunks her older sister carried stepped out. Although lacking the classic beauty of Miss Kestrel the fifth year student was pretty - with blonde curls, blue eyes, and a playful manner. Erin O'Shaughnessy was only second to Miss Kestrel as the object of fantasies among other students. Elizabeth chatted briefly with the sisters, then Miss Kestrel tugged on her sleeve and announced they needed to find other friends. Elizabeth wondered if Vivien really wanted to see other friends, or disliked the twin indignities of being ignored by Mr. Malfoy and being so close to her rival for affection in the hearts of Hogwarts students.

After leaving the public house they strolled around the village seeing other acquaintances. Torquil 'Turk' Lennox nodded at Elizabeth. In his five years as beater he had never allowed the bludger he guarded to strike a Slytherin player. And in their six years together in Slytherin Elizabeth could not remember three consecutive sentences from him. At first she had wondered if he disliked her for some reason, but had come to suspect he was simply terribly shy.

The Owl caught sight of Elizabeth and left a group discussing quidditch play to attack her with the question, "When are tryouts for the team?"

"As soon as they can be arranged," she assured him. "You sound as if you'd like to hold them now."

"Why not? I'm ready."

If Elizabeth faced the handicap of being the tallest witch at Hogwarts Aloysius Whisp faced even greater burdens. First and foremost was the fact of being the shortest wizard at the school. Should there be a shorter wizard among the first years the odds were that by the end of the year the new student would have grown enough that Mr. Whisp would regain his title. In his fourth year at the school his hair was already streaked with gray – his sister Alice, who had graduated in the prior spring, had been white haired in her final year. And finally the Owl blinked out at the world from behind thick spectacles which magnified his eyes and had helped give him his nickname. Mr. Whisp desperately wanted to serve as the Slytherin seeker to give him a chance for glory he would be denied in other ways.

The Wells' carriage had arrived during their visit to The Goblin's Head and Elizabeth spied her brother, looking very poorly dressed.

"What happened to you?" she demanded. "You were supposed to buy new clothes."

"I bought this," he told her proudly and showed her a new broom.

"You spent your money on a broom? Have you lost your mind… No, that question requires that you have a mind in the first place. I won't ask what you were thinking - since it appears you weren't."

"A seeker needs a good broom," he pouted.

"You're hoping for the position of seeker?"

"I am the Ravenclaw seeker."

"But tryouts--"

"We had them last fall, after Hufflepuff won the quidditch cup. We'll see how the first years look, but how often does one them actually play on a team?"

"Can I assume that Mr. Wells is also on the team?"

"He's a chaser."

"And the other guests at his home this last month?"

"By odd coincidence, they all are on the Ravenclaw team this year."

"And, by odd coincidence, you spent eight hours a day practicing for the last month?"

"Only six. But we all worked very hard during those six."

Elizabeth had a great deal more that she wanted to say, but none of it was pleasant and she stormed away.

She remained agitated, despite Vivien's best efforts to calm her down, until a loud, "Elizabeth!" caught her attention and she turned to find Lobelia Saxifrage, her favorite teacher, tottering towards her. "Did Robert tell you, I want to see the two of you in the large greenhouse after tonight's banquet?"

"I've not seen him."

"Well, he's here. What I can't find is Professor Sauberkehren. Haven't seen a single German yet today. Did you keep up your boggart studies?"

"She did," Vivien answered. "She's had one in her wardrobe since third year."

"Why do you ask?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"It appears Hogwarts picked up a boggle over the summer. What do you know about 'em?"

"Not much, I fear. While boggarts are common boggles, or bogies, are extremely rare. Has it taken up residence by the lake?"

"No, inside the school itself."

"Curious, I've never heard of one in a building before. Their normal habitat is marshes where they try and confuse travelers and lure them into the mire. They most often appear as a stray cow, but can take the shape of a person."

"That's well and good, but doesn't solve the problem. How do you identify one and, more importantly, how do you destroy it? Will the Riddikulus Spell do any good?"

"That is not fair to boggarts! They don't want to harm anyone. They just want to be left in peace. They are only defending themselves. I don't know why--"

"The question is one of boggles," Vivien reminded her friend.

"Sorry. Boggles are so rare there are no good studies on them. I've not heard of a method of detecting them. Since the Riddikulus Spell strips a boggart's defenses from it as it tries to be left alone, and since the boggle actively engages others as it tries to deceive them and lead them astray, I doubt the spell would work on a boggle."

Professor Saxifrage looked unhappy at the news, "I hope Professor Sauberkehren has something more positive than that."

"It might be a wonderful opportunity to learn more about boggles," Elizabeth suggested optimistically.

Vivien laughed, "Perhaps you should ask a house elf for help."

"What do you mean?" the professor asked.

"Elizabeth noticed that the boggart never tried to frighten the house elves who worked in our room--"

"Boggarts know that house elves are harmless to them," Elizabeth interrupted.

"Anyway, she questioned a house elf about whether or not they could see the boggart or not. They said they could."

"Hmm… If a boggle is simply a boggart with bent to practical jokes that could be valuable. So, what did the house elf report the boggart looked like?"

"The house elf told me that the boggart looked like a boggart," Elizabeth reported glumy. "I asked what was the most similar object she could describe to the boggart. She told me that boggarts look more like boggarts than anything else. Every time I tried to pin her down she just told me that boggarts look like nothing else so much as they resemble boggarts."

"Still something," Professor Saxifrage grunted, "need to talk with the house elves. Miss Kestrel, six years and that is the first worthwhile thing I've heard you remember. There's hope for you yet."

"I really dislike her," Vivien whispered as the old professor left them.

"The feeling is mutual it appears. You really could try and do more in the class."

Vivien snorted, "Herbology? What good does that do?"

In theory anyone requiring muggle transportation to Hogwarts arrived by three o'clock. At four o'clock all muggles were supposed to be out of town so that the warding spells could be renewed and Hogsmeade hidden. At almost half-past three all muggles had left to return to their homes, when a large black carriage rolled into the village and stopped opposite The Three Broomsticks. Little of the driver other than an enormous beard could be seen under his black broad-brimmed hat and traveling cloak. The curtains on the carriage were pulled close, keeping anyone from seeing the travelers inside. The arrival of the stranger caused the crowd to fall silent. The jingling of the harness and the neigh of one of the horses in the team were the only sounds on the street. Two or three faculty members drew near, wondering if this was some late muggle arrival and how they could speed his departure. Before anyone could say a word the doors burst open on both sides of the carriage and the German students piled out, laughing at the startled looks from the bystanders. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. It looked like… Yes, Charles Potter, of Gryffindor, was among the Germans.

"The boat was slow," a German explained.

"And we had to drive like Jehu to get here."

But it did not explain the villainous looking driver, who suddenly pulled off the hat and then, wonder of wonders, pulled off his beard to present the face of the Dark Arts Professor, Otto Sauberkehren.

Professor Thomas, who taught Runes stared at wonder at the hair in his hand. "What is that?"

"Muggle magic," he explained, handing her the theatrical beard. "The hooks go behind your ears."

Susan Thomas hesitated a moment, then donned the false beard, to the great amusement of the crowd of students.

"Can I try it," someone shouted.

"Me next," another called.

The Runes teacher looked at the Dark Arts instructor, who shrugged his permission, and then she handed it over to the first student who had made a request.

Even Vivien joined the line of students wanting to try the false beard. It was a tribute to Miss Kestrel's beauty that, not only did she manage to look fetching in the beard, but three wizards got into a fight over which of them could wear the beard next. They assumed, and rightly, that having the object which had just been around her lips around their own was the closest they would ever come to a kiss from her.

As Elizabeth and Vivien left the crowd around the Germans Mr. Potter approached them. "Miss Gray," he said – nodding his head just enough to be polite, but certainly not friendly.

"Mr Potter," she coolly returned the courtesy.

"You have a third year in your house, a witch named Honig?"

"Yes."

"Would you be so kind as to introduce me to her?"

Elizabeth stared slightly, "Why?"

"I have information for her."

"But what do you—"

"The information is for _her_," he repeated with emphasis.

Vivien and Elizabeth, with Mr. Potter in attendance, looked through the throng of people until Vivien spotted the younger girl, "There she is!" Vivien, of course, went with Elizabeth and Mr. Potter as they approached Deborah and the other two Weird Sisters.

The third-years fell silent as the older students approached, "Miss Honig," Elizabeth addressed the Jewish witch, "Mr. Potter has asked to be introduced to you. He claims to be in possession of information for you. May I make an introduction or shall we send the blighter packing?"

One of the other Weird Sisters might have put herself forward as Deborah had the young woman showed any indication of refusing the introduction.

"Certainly," Deborah told Elizabeth, glancing at the Gryffindor quidditch captain.

Elizabeth sighed, "Mr. Potter, may I present Miss Honig of Slytherin. Miss Honig, Mr. Potter of Gryffindor."

Charles bowed deeply and pulled a letter from a pocket. "My father hopes to begin an expedition to the wizarding community in the north and east of Russia next year," he told the girl. "I went with him to Prussia this summer to start the planning for the journey. While in Eastern Europe I met a young wizard who told me his parents were negotiating his marriage to a student at Hogwarts. I believe-"

Deborah tore the letter from his hands and ran to find a place to read it in privacy. Her two third-year friends ran after her to prevent it from happening.

"Well, that was terribly rude," Vivien commented as the trio disappeared into the crowd.

"My asking for an introduction?" Charles asked.

"Those two following her?" Elizabeth suggested.

"No, her leaving at all. She should have opened it here. I'm rather curious about the young man's name." She turned her attention to Mr. Potter and gave him a smile that would melt stone. "But you, of course, can tell me."

Charles blushed and backed away from the two Slytherin women.

At four the faculty confirmed there were no muggles left in the village and Professor Rookwood raised his wand in the air. A ball of fire rocketed into the sky and burst with a flash of light and a thunderous boom that echoed through the valley. Almost as soon as the echoes died witches and wizards began to descend from the clouds over Hogsmeade. Some rode flying horses, others brooms, and slightly fewer than a dozen sat on flying carpets which began to spiral down to landing sites.

Elizabeth spied her mother and father with Basil on Grandpa Fletcher's old flying carpet and ran to hug her parents after they set down.

Her father looked out of sorts, "Damn carpet pulls to the left," he complained. "Getting it to fly in a circle over Hogsmeade without drifting off course strained every muscle in my back."

"Poor baby," Mrs. Gray smiled and kissed her husband on the cheek. "I know ways to make you feel much better."

_"I really didn't need to hear that,"_ Elizabeth thought. "Do you want me to take Basil over where the other first years are gathering?"

"That would be fine, dear," her mother answered.

"Should I carry his trunk?"

"My back may hurt, but I can still carry a trunk," her father insisted. "Just, ah, give me a minute to stretch a little."

Her father's request suited Elizabeth's plans perfectly. She maneuvered her brother out of the sight of their parents. "There are things I need to tell you about the sorting process. Things you should be warned about… So that you can prepare for the ordeal."

"Yes?" he asked nervously.

"It's painful… But you must endure. If you scream or cry too quickly when the pain begins they put you in Hufflepuff. If you can last a few seconds longer they will place you in Ravenclaw. If you can stand the pain for a full minute you will go to Slytherin. You must be brave. Only one or two students die each year in the sorting process and most are fine by the end of the week."

"Grandfather Fletcher said I'd go to Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor is almost as good as Slytherin. If you fall short of the full minute you will go to Gryffindor, but you must try to hold on to the end. Promise me you will be brave."

He managed a shaky, "I promise."

Elizabeth scared him further by hugging him as if she might never see him alive again.

The flare of light had served as a cue and Hugh Dalyrumple set out from the dock in front of Hogwarts with the boats used to bring the first year students to the school. Exactly why first year students crossed the lake in boats instead of taking the path around the water had been lost to memory.

Parents waved goodbyes as the first years began their trip across the water while the older students found places in the phaetons for their journey on the path around the edge of the lake.

One theory ran that they first years took the boats simply to arrive at the school later. Virtually no one accepted such a simple explanation for the tradition, but it certainly reflected the fact that the first years students always arrived later. The older students found places at the long tables in the Great Hall as they waited for the sorting ceremony. Elizabeth guessed that the stranger at the faculty table must be Professor Flamel. While the stranger was middle-aged and balding he certainly appeared younger than Professor Clamp. The quidditch captain frowned, wondering if her father had been teasing her with the story of an ancient teacher returning to teach potions or if she erred in her guess to the stranger's identity.

Before Elizabeth could decide on an answer to the riddle Mr. Dalyrumple threw open the doors to the Great Hall and his wife led in the new students. Several were visibly shaking. Before the sorting ceremony in her second year Elizabeth had seen one young witch faint. She had heard that three years before her arrival a young wizard had turned and run screaming from the hall.

Professor Thomas read the name of the first student, "Jeremiah Abbot." When no one moved she whispered, "You need to approach the head table."

The young wizard was the tallest of the group, but visibly trembling with fear as he moved to the front of the hall - his face white and dripping with sweat. _"Please, let him go to Hufflepuff,"_ Elizabeth thought. The young man tensed as Sir William placed the sorting hat on his head.

After a few seconds the hat announced, "Slytherin!"

A mingled look of confusion and relief went over Mr. Abbot's face. There were a couple jeers from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables as the young man who had displayed so much fear headed for the Slytherin table. Elizabeth reflected that she didn't know what the first year might have been told to expect. Perhaps the very fact he had been able to walk forward into the unknown terror spoke well for him.

Slytherin started strongly in the first year sweepstakes, with three of the initial four students. In addition to Mr. Abbot the house received Phineas Nigellus Black, a young wizard whose arrogant manner promised to be far more grating than the temporary fear the first young wizard had displayed. Livia Bulstrode joined her brother at the Slytherin table also. Miss Bulstrode, sadly, bore a strong family resemble to her fourth year brother, Augustus. Behind Augie's back students were known to whisper, "Troll's blood," and shake their heads knowingly. No one would dare say such a thing to the hulking bully's face.

After taking an early lead Slytherin's luck temporarily evaporated as students began to be assigned to other houses. Esther Candlewick, the girl whose father had pointed out the remains of the pike at the Goblin's Head went to Hufflepuff. Many students went to houses where they had older siblings - Pericles Finch and Tiberius Longbottom to Gryffindor, Anne Pettigrew and Bruce Trelawney to Ravenclaw, and Abigail Lovegood to Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff picked up both of the two new Germans, Wilhelm Burgher and Claudia Milberg. To Elizabeth's disappointment her brother went to Gryffindor as her grandfather had predicted. The greatest excitement at the sorting came almost at the end when Professor Thomas called, the next-to-the-last name, "Henry Wildman." The hat assigned Mr. Wildman to Ravenclaw and the student tables buzzed with conversation. Violet Savage was a fifth year in Gryffindor and every student knew there was some sort of prophecy about a Wildman and a Savage. Unfortunately no one knew the actual prophecy. Some claimed its message only applied if the two families were in the same house, and others if they were in the same year, and others said that simply having a member of each family at the school at the same time represented bad luck (unless, of course, the prophecy was for good luck).

Following the sorting ceremony came the opening banquet. Elizabeth enjoyed the meal as best she could with the twin disappointments of her brother going to Gryffindor and the knowledge that Penelope Pilton would give her opening remarks for the school year at the end of the banquet. "_She could have at least made herself presentable for First Night,"_ Elizabeth thought critically as she eyed the Headmistress's untidy hair and ink-stained fingers.

As Elizabeth had guessed, Mrs. Pilton introduced the unfamiliar wizard at the head table as Professor Flamel, and welcomed him back to Hogwarts. Elizabeth wondered if he had perhaps taught something other than potions.

"With the retirement of Professor Clamp the new head of Gryffindor house will be Professor Wood." The announcement brought some exclamations of surprise from students, and some cheers from the Gryffindor table. Elizabeth had been aware of the appointment for months. The board of governors had quarreled over who should serve as head, and the senior faculty who were asked had declined the honor. The friction among the governors had become an annoyance to the Hogwarts faculty and most of them wished to avoid the fighting. Professor Wood had arrived only a year earlier to teach astronomy and was only a few years older than the seventh year students. To be appointed head of house should never have fallen to such a junior member of the faculty.

She warned students of the boggle, but added nothing to what Professor Saxifrage had told Elizabeth in the village.

Elizabeth ignored most of what was said, either from having heard it several times before or because she disliked the headmistress of Hogwarts. Towards the end of the welcoming speech, however, Miss Gray jerked back to attention on hearing the word ball. She hoped the rules had been changed in regard to the monthly events at the school.

There were a number of whispers at the mention of the balls and the headmistress paused briefly and waited for quiet to be restored. "First and second year students at Hogwarts are not allowed to attend the monthly balls unless they are asked by an older student. There are no changes in the balls. They will begin at eight, with Roger de Coverley ending precisely at one. You will be in your houses no later than one-thirty. Waltzing is still not permitted at Hogwarts."

The news that waltzes remained under the ban brought a number of soft groans from witches who had learned the dance and felt deprived by the refusal of the school to advance with the times. A few young wizards might also have objected to being denied the opportunity to actually hold a girl, but more, who were nervous at the prospect and didn't know the steps, felt relief at the announcement.

The announcement on balls ended Mrs. Pilton's opening remarks. She announced, "You are dismissed to your houses," as the great clock chimed, marking the half hour. Hugh and Molly Dalyrumple, the school's caretakers, opened the main doors to the Great Hall and students stood and began to file out of the hall.

* * *

The first commercial railroad for steam locomotives opened in 1830. London's first station appeared in 1836. Planning for the King's Cross Station began in 1848.

The waltz arrived in England about 1812. Considered somewhat risqué, because the partners actually hold each other, it took several years to be accepted in London society – and even longer in the countryside and for parents to accept their unchaperoned children participating in such an activity. A common dance, Roger de Coverley, sometimes ended the evening at a country ball.


	4. Fall Term: And Anything Appears Possible

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are other places, names, and ghosts from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

** Fall Term Begins, and Anything Still Appears Possible**

"Aren't you coming with us?" Miss Cattermole asked as Elizabeth remained at the Slytherin table while other students began to file out of the Great Hall to their houses.

"Professor Saxifrage asked Robert and me to help her with something in the main greenhouse."

"She takes advantage of you two. Classes don't start until tomorrow."

"We enjoy it."

As she stood Edward William dashed over from the Ravenclaw table, "I need to talk with you - tomorrow if possible."

She looked past him, "How odd, I thought I heard a voice. But I can think of no one in Ravenclaw I would be speaking to."

"Please, this is important."

Miss Gray continued to act as if her brother were not there.

"Elizabeth, please, I'm desperate."

She sighed, "What's the matter?"

"I can't really tell you in public."

"Perhaps you should see Mr. Strout in the infirmary for things you can't discuss in public."

"Lizzy!"

"Fine, where and when do you propose?"

"After dinner tomorrow in the corridor outside the history classroom. No one will be there in the evening."

"All right, I'll be there."

"Why aren't you going to Slytherin?"

"Because," Elizabeth waved at Mr. Fletcher, who remained at a distance to let Edward William speak to his sister, and beckoned him over, "Robin and I are going to the greenhouse to help Professor Saxifrage."

Despite her words to her roommate, Elizabeth slightly resented the imposition of being asked to attend the professor in the greenhouse. This was First Night, the night to hear about how friends had spent their summers and to meet the first-years. Robert voiced a similar complaint as they walked down a wing leading away from their respective houses, "I don't like missing the Fat Friar's life story."

Elizabeth laughed, "I remember your first year, he claimed he had been Friar Tuck at the time of Robin Hood. You were so excited you couldn't wait to tell me. Then… Was it the next year he had been killed during the crusades?"

"No, third year. Second year he had been confessor to King Harold the First."

"Do you think you've ever heard the real story?"

"I don't know. Maybe. At least he tells a good story. Does your Bloody Baron ever do anything but look grim?"

"The Baron looks like a ghost should. At least we don't have to endure that silly Gryffindor ghost."

They had reached the greenhouse as they ended the conversation. The light inside announced that Professor Saxifrage had beaten them there.

"What kept you?" the elderly witch demanded.

"It is First Night. We are supposed to go to our houses after dinner," Elizabeth reminded her. "Why did you ask us to come here?"

The professor held up a small, silk bag. "Seeds. Nettle seeds. These might be singing nettles--"

Robert appeared puzzled, "Stinging nettles?"

"Singing nettles, stinging are common," she answered sharply. "You've not heard of them?" She looked over at Elizabeth, "You?"

Elizabeth shook her head no.

"And you two are the best students I've had in years," she sighed. "I can't blame your teacher. She's done an excellent job."

"What year did we cover them?" Robert asked.

"We never covered them in class," she shot back. "I expect the two of you to read more broadly… Perhaps it doesn't matter. Perhaps singing nettles are like the black dagger or the Chamber of Secrets -- old wizard's tales of things which were never true."

Elizabeth did not respond to her teacher's comment. Like all Slytherins she had complete faith that the Chamber of Secrets existed. None of them knew where it was or what it contained, but there were enough secrets known to the Slytherins alone that they accepted the story of the chamber.

"What do singing nettles do, in the legends?" Robert asked.

"If spun into thread and woven into an under garment they are said to keep the wearer safe from all spells and curses. According to the stories a shirt worn next to the skin would even turn Miss Gray into a champion duelist."

The two chuckled to Elizabeth's slight discomfort. Necessity forced her to acknowledge her lack of skills in dueling, but she didn't like being reminded of the fact.

"It is a full moon tonight. I want to plant these seeds and monitor the results." She assigned Robert the task of apportioning out an equal amount of seeds into three piles while Elizabeth filled three trays with potting soil. Different colors of paint distinguished each of the three trays. "Elizabeth, you will plant in the blue tray. Put in a little soil from the white jar--"

"What is that?" Robert wanted to know.

"Loam gathered at noon on the summer solstice from a consecrated graveyard."

"That must have looked peculiar," Elizabeth reflected.

"I had to flirt a bit with the church sexton. A very spry man for seventy."

"I don't believe I want to hear about that," Robert muttered.

"You are far too prudish, young man. I'll be planting in the green tray."

"Are you adding anything special to the soil?"

"Mold gathered at midnight from a crossroads where felons were hanged. The very spot where the gibbet once stood. Robert, you have the red tray. Kindly put in some of the material from that burlap bag under the far table."

"And that will be what I think it is?"

"Certainly."

"Why do I always get the horse manure?"

The teacher raised an eyebrow, "You would prefer I grub around in horse manure?"

"Well, no."

"You would ask your cousin Elizabeth to do it?"

"I, uh, guess not."

"Then, you see, you have it because you would take it on yourself."

"The curse of being a gentleman," Elizabeth whispered to her cousin as they set about sowing the seeds.

Robert finished slightly ahead of the two witches, but only after Elizabeth had finished did Professor Saxifrage ask the young woman to read her notes out loud to see if they had missed anything. The aged woman wrote using a black, crow quill and Robert found her crabbed and spidery handwriting utterly illegible.

The two were stopped by Mr. Dalyrumple as they returned through the dark halls of the school.

"We were helping Professor Saxifrage," Robert protested.

He closed one eye and thought for briefly, "I wouldn't believe no one else, but yer story's probably true. I'll ask 'er. You're in trouble if she denies it. But right now, get to yer houses."

Elizabeth assured him that was their intention.

They also encountered Professor Wood, the astronomy professor, who had left the welcoming party at Gryffindor and was on his way to the observatory. His nocturnal hours earned him the nickname of Vampire among the students. He chatted with them several minutes before remembering he needed to be elsewhere. "He likes you," Robert whispered to Elizabeth after the teacher left them and before they parted for their own houses.

"I hope all my teachers like me," Elizabeth responded.

"I mean, as in, _really_ likes you."

"You are being ridiculous."

"That's the reason you get high marks in astronomy."

"My marks in astronomy aren't that high, and I work hard for them."

"Fine, if that's what you want to believe," he responded in a patronizing tone.

"No, what I believe is that you're telling me silly stories so I will lose my concentration and you'll be recognized as the best herbology student at the school."

"I'll get the honor because I'm the best."

"Not while I draw breath."

It was time for them to go their own ways. "I'll get the award," he called as he started down the hall to Hufflepuff.

"No you won't, I will," she shouted before disappearing around a corner.

Most of the students were still in the Common Room when Elizabeth arrived, but the First Night party was almost at an end. The most entertaining piece of news appeared to have been young Mr. Black being hedgehogged for impertinence. He would sleep off Sir William's transfiguration over night. Since the Bloody Baron's decree that he would punish anyone who encouraged a first year to sit in his chair by the fireplace the older students had stopped the practice and merely hoped that one would draw the Baron's wrath by sitting in the _siege perilous_. However, before returning to his own rooms and the comfort of the bottle, Sir William had warned new students they should only sit on the chair with the Baron's permission. Since young Mr. Black had taken on his hedgehog form before the warning there was some hope that he might learn another lesson in humility by trying to usurp the Baron's proper seat.

Soon after Elizabeth's return she went with Vivien, Charlotte, and Kitty to their room. House elves had left their trunks in a line on the floor and the four began to quickly put away their clothes before retiring. The room was spotless from the summer cleaning the house elves had given it. But, after pulling the wardrobes out in order to clean behind and under them, the furniture had not been returned to its original positions.

Miss Kelly opened the wardrobe in the spot she had used last year to find a rotting corpse. Maggots crawled through the putrid flesh of the long dead body. The Irish girl screamed loudly and slammed the door shut on the wardrobe.

"What happened?" a witch in the room next door called.

"Miss Gray still has her pet boggart," Vivien shouted back.

"Let me kill the thing, please," Charlotte requested.

"No, it was just trying to keep from being harmed. There is no crime in self-defense."

"There is when it gives me such a fright," Miss Kelly shot back. "And this is your wardrobe, Lizzy."

Elizabeth took an armful of robes from her trunk. A werewolf, with red-rimmed eyes showing its hate and drool on its muzzle snarled at her as she opened the wardrobe and put away the robes. When she returned to hang up her other clothes a gigantic spider filled the wardrobe, clicking mandibles large enough to pinch off an arm. Elizabeth carefully hung up her clothes before returning to the trunk for stockings. A monstrous snake lay coiled on the floor of her wardrobe when she next opened it. The serpent opened its mouth displaying long fangs and hissed at her. Elizabeth put away the stockings and returned to the trunk to determine what could remain in the trunk and what needed to be placed in the cedar lined wardrobe. When she next opened the wardrobe no monster confronted her. The boggart appeared to be sulking over its failure to frighten Elizabeth.

The other three witches retired for the night, but Elizabeth went back to the now empty Common Room to reflect on the day and the upcoming year. She felt vaguely sorry for Ravenclaw and Gryffindor in their towers – too hot in the summer, drafty in the winter, and light shining in to disturb your sleep on the rare morning when you could stay in bed. The snug burrows for Hufflepuff and Slytherin were cool on the hottest of days, and warm and cozy in the winter.

She looked at the great mantle. She hoped to see the quidditch cup restored to its place there when she left… When she left… The thought struck her forcibly. Hogwarts represented a second home to her, as real as her family's crowded house in London and far more real than the new estate. Where did she want to go after leaving Hogwarts? What did she want to do? She had looked forward to this prospect for six years, but now wondered what lay ahead.

She laughed at herself, _"I will not solve the riddle tonight,"_ and looked around the Common Room one last time before returning to her own bed. Some debris, scattered about the room from the party, would be removed by house elves before the dawn. A few pieces of decrepit furniture had been replaced over the summer. The three alcoves opposite the fireplace were all dark. If this year proved like the last the Weird Sisters could usually be found in the far alcove at one end of a long table – huddled over their homework. The larger, central, alcove had two larger tables and bookshelves with texts, books which parents had donated as valuable, and papers which had been written by students in earlier years. In theory the scrolls were there to provide examples, but the poorer students recopied and resubmitted the works until the professors knew them almost by heart. It was very odd to see the small alcove on the left dark. The two card tables and eight chairs usually saw at least one game being played when Elizabeth went to bed. If Mr. Malfoy spent even half as much time on school work as he spent gaming he would not have been so great a disgrace to the house.

* * *

After dinner the first day of classes Elizabeth headed towards the history classroom. She almost wondered if the request to meet with her brother had come from the boggle. She could not remember him asking her for help in his entire life. She also enjoyed the prospect of talking with an unusual and inhuman creature more than the idea of talking with anyone from Ravenclaw. She still seethed with the news that the other house had stolen a march on all the other houses in quidditch practice.

Edward William, or something which looked like Edward William, leaned against the wall outside the classroom.

"Weasel?"

"Who else would I be?"

"You might be the boggle."

"You might be too."

"Tell me something that only my brother would know, because he would rather to go to church without pants than ask for my help."

He flushed with anger, "I was four years old, and my belt broke! I don't know why--"

"All right, you are you--"

"So are you."

"What's the problem?"

"It's a female problem."

"I was under the impression that wizards did not suffer that curse. You are very unusual."

He gave her a peculiar look. "What are you talking about?"

She sighed, "A joke you seem incapable of understanding… You are very lucky. Now, what do you mean a female problem? Is some mean witch making fun of you for spending your clothing allowance on a broom? You brought that on yourself."

"The only witch giving me a difficult time is you. I… There's a… How do I impress the most wonderful girl in the world?"

"Weasel, there is nothing you could do to impress me."

"Lizzy, please. I'm serious."

"You are interested in a girl?"

"Yes."

"Here's the best advice I can give you. Don't be yourself."

"Why am I talking with you," he muttered.

"Obviously it is because you are desperate. Who is she? Someone here at Hogwarts? Someone you met at the Wells home?"

"Yes and Yes. I was with Rose a great deal over the summer and--"

"Rose? Rose Fowler?"

He stared, unsure how she could even ask the question. "Of course."

Rose Fowler came terribly close to plain. Other than her eyes, which some said sparkled with intelligence and Elizabeth held only sparkled with low cunning, the Ravenclaw quidditch captain had no outstanding features. "And you are interested in her?"

"That's why I needed to talk with you."

Elizabeth needed further assurance, "What do you admire about Miss Fowler."

Edward William sighed the sigh of a young man deeply in love, "She is wonderful."

"Something a little more specific, if you please."

"She is witty. She is charming. You can't talk with her for half an hour without falling in love with her."

_"I will make certain I never talk with Miss Fowler for a half hour,"_ Elizabeth thought to herself. "I'm still not sure why you wished to speak with me."

"What do I need to say or do to get her to notice me?"

"She has to notice you. You're the seeker for… Is there someone else in the picture?"

He nodded glumly.

"Some witch interested in you that you've been murmuring sweet promises to, or a rival for Miss Fowler?"

"Mr. Wells."

"JW is interested in Miss Fowler too?"

"Yes… Do you think I could borrow money from father for--"

"No. That's the wrong approach."

"Why?"

"We don't have enough money to outspend a Wells. And even if we did, father would not be so foolish to lend it to you for that purpose. And, even if father should lose his mind, you would never be happy if you thought you had purchased Miss Fowler."

"I don't want to buy her! I just want her to notice me."

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "There are fast ways to obtain her notice, such as setting yourself on fire, but that is not the sort of notice you want. Pay attention to her. Listen to her. Small compliments - don't give her a thousand a day or you will sound desperate and foolish. Talk with her about your classes… How do you treat Mr. Vane?"

"He's my best friend. I don't want to hold his hand."

"Good. But you are most apt to succeed with Miss Fowler if you make her a friend and a confident as well. Become someone she trusts, someone she turns to when she needs advice."

"But Mr. Wells can buy her presents!"

"If her favor can be purchased would you really be interested in her?"

He thought for a minute, then shook his head no.

"We're not poor. You don't have to be ashamed of our family, but you can't compete with Mr. Wells in terms of wealth. You need to demonstrate that you are the better man..." She gave her brother an evil grin, "You haven't a chance."

"I don't--"

"Sorry. Force of habit. Oh, a word of real advice."

"Yes?"

"Make certain your name appears as often as possible on her dance card for the ball."

"That's weeks away."

"It is. And she won't give you every dance. Ask for the first, if she will give it to you."

"Any other advice?"

"If you want love charms you need to see Vivien. That's enough for now. You don't want to frighten her." _"Not that Miss Fowler looks in any way timid."_

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Thanks, Sis."

"You're welcome, Weasel."

* * *

The first days of a new term were always frantic. First years could often be discovered, wandering in a dazed manner through the unfamiliar and maze-like corridors of the school. The first years could usually trust the older students from their own houses to give them proper directions on where to go. Unfortunately they were not yet entirely familiar with the older members of their houses. And 'usually trust' is vastly different from always trust.

Professor Flamel seemed open and engaging and fit smoothly into the Hogwarts community from the first day. Elizabeth longed to ask him how old he was and what his connection was with Hogwarts, but restrained herself. He exhibited a peculiar habit of talking about things from past centuries as if he had been there himself. Elizabeth wondered if he might have taught history during his earlier appointment to Hogwarts – he was certainly more entertaining than Professor Quirrell, the head of Ravenclaw, who currently taught subject.

In addition to the problems typical for first-years as they began, the boggle further complicated matters. The creature could appear in any form and existed to provide misdirection. Some students decided that the boggle provided them with the perfect excuse for being late to class. Professor Ogden responded to the tardy issue by ordering all first years to be at least five minutes early to charms, although informing them that after two weeks students would be expected to know how to find his classroom without needing to ask directions. The boggle did not limit its misdirections to first years. It might appear as Penelope Pilton or a professor and tell older students that a class had been cancelled, or moved to a different location.

Augustus Bulstrode and a few other students found the possibility of playing boggle congruent with their senses of humor (or lack of sense of humor in the opinion of their victims). They would tell students that a professor wanted to see them, or that important news had arrived from a parent and they needed to contact the Dalyrumples. When the victim came back to accuse the prankster the bullies would look shocked and deny all knowledge of the event, "It must have been the boggle," they would assure their victims. That particular form of entertainment became less popular after Mr. Bulstrode informed three fifth-year witches from Gryffindor that Professor Rookwood needed to see them. Later, when questioned by the headmistress, they had asserted they thought he was the boggle and they wanted the extra credit the Dark Arts teacher had promised. Mr. Bulstrode fortunately only required one night in the infirmary. The pranksters among the student body lost interest in the joke after Mr. Bulstrode's experience. Students fearing a similar fate became reluctant to deliver messages from anyone resembling a professor. The headmistress decreed that any teacher wishing to use a student to deliver a message must send out two. It could not stop the boggle from impersonating an instructor, but at least the fact two students presented a message demonstrated they themselves were not boggles.

In addition to promising students extra credit for the capture or destruction of the boggle the Dark Arts professor spent much of his own spare time prowling the halls in search of the creature. Professor Sauberkehren cut a distinctive figure in his Durmstrang robes, a heavy gold chain with a Dawn Knights' medallion around his neck. He had encouraged Elizabeth's study of boggarts and encouraged her to pursue the boggle as well. He took it for granted that she would write up her findings on boggarts. "Add a chapter on boggles, if they are related," he suggested.

Not all the difficulties which arose could be blamed on the outside force of the boggle. On her way to class late in the first week Elizabeth heard a commotion and saw several students running toward the source of the sound. Wondering if the boggle might have been cornered she followed the others. The number of students in the crowd, and the noise, kept her from immediately discovering the source of the chaos. Elizabeth had the size and muscle to push her way in, "What's going on," she demanded.

"Three Ranters attacked the Bishop."

"Three against one? Is no one trying to stop it?"

"No. Two of them are holding him down and the third is reading to him from Paul's Epistle to the Romans."

Elizabeth sighed. It was not her fight. If Bishop had remained politely quiet in regard to his church preferences it wouldn't have happened to him. On the other hand, the Ranters should not be allowed to inflict themselves on others - even Catholics. Furthermore the Bishop served as third chaser for the Hufflepuff quidditch team and Elizabeth owed it to her cousins to stop the fight if she could. Besides, the last thing Hogwarts needed was open warfare between the Presbyterians, German Lutherans, Catholics, and Church of England.

The gangly Hufflepuff student had earned his nickname by insisting he planned to study for the priesthood after leaving Hogwarts. As she pushed aside smaller students she heard him shouting something at his assailants. It might have been Latin, and Miss Gray thought she heard a reference to Thomas Aquinas – it was difficult to be certain with the babble of voices and reading of the Scriptures.

"Stop it. Now." Elizabeth announced as she reached the center of the altercation.

They ignored her.

On the theory that raising her voice might only make the situation worse Elizabeth seized the two wizards holding the Hufflepuff chaser down by the backs of their robes and lifted them into the air. "I said, this is over. Go do your homework or something constructive with your time."

The one holding the copy of the Scriptures responded, "We are testifying to the power of—"

"Ignorance," Elizabeth told him bluntly. "I recall reading that we are to do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Do you find the idea of Mr. O'Connell having two friends hold you down while he chants his popish superstition at you attractive?"

That brought some laughter from the onlookers. Elizabeth set the two other wizards down. "Leave, now." She turned to the bystanders, "There is nothing here to see."

Mr. O'Connell rose from the floor as the crowd dispersed. "Thanks," he told her. "But I was really fine… I had them right where I wanted them."

"And I always admired Hufflepuffs for their honesty… or do you have a martyr complex?"

"You should have been a Hufflepuff," he grinned. "You're just like your cousin."

Elizabeth knew her actions might create rumors that she demonstrated sympathy towards Catholics, but faced the possibility stoically. There were probably worse things which could be said.

Rose Fowler demanded a meeting of the quidditch captains at the end of the first week. They met with Professor Turpin in the cluttered office of the headmistress on Friday. Quidditch was too important to not be overseen by the faculty. "Ravenclaw would like to play in the first game," she announced.

The houses usually did not want to play in the first game. They wanted more time to practice and hoped to play in the second. The Gryffindor team of a few years earlier, which won so effortlessly, always requested to play in the first games. On hearing Miss Fowler's request the other three captains said short prayers they would not have to play Ravenclaw. None of them had even finalized their teams for the year and feared an early loss.

Since no one volunteered to play Ravenclaw in the opening game Mrs. Pilton drew a lot. It fell to Gryffindor to play Ravenclaw in the first game. This meant that Slytherin and Hufflepuff would play against each other in the second game. Elizabeth wanted very much to gain revenge by beating her cousin for last year. Rose Fowler crossed her fingers and hoped that Ravenclaw would be chosen for the third game, but the lots went to Slytherin and Gryffindor. There were no games during the winter term. Fourth game of the year, the first of the spring term, would be played between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. "If we aren't ready by then we never will be," Robert thought to himself. Hufflepuff would be playing again in a month, against Gryffindor. To Miss Fowler's regret Ravenclaw's final game, against Slytherin, would be the last of the year.

* * *

I feel confident that fagging went on at Hogwarts, as at virtually all public schools in Britain. Look up the article on 'fagging' in Wikipedia for a discussion of the theoretical benefits. Differences between theory and practice often exist, and they diverge tremendously on this subject. The system is remembered more for abuses than instilling a sense of responsibility. The coed nature of Hogwarts would require unique limitations on the practice. Fagging will not be a part of this story, but I suspect that young Mr. Black did not take well to the tradition.

Ranters - a term frequently applied by those in the Church of England towards Methodists, Irvingites, and other sects with a strongly evangelistic style.


	5. Quidditch Tryouts

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but the primary characters from those stories can not be found here.

**Quidditch Tryouts**

The houses held their quidditch tryouts in the second week of school. Ravenclaw took the final day of tryouts, assuming they were a pointless formality.

Gryffindor held their session first. While other houses were not allowed to watch the tryouts the news of choices spread quickly. The surprising news for Gryffindor came from the choice of the African, Mr. Jones, as the Gryffindor seeker.

"He was never on a broom before last year," Owl commented in amazement.

The black wizard had been recommended to Hogwarts by Professor Potter - Charles' father, who had earned the title of professor by teaching briefly at Hogwarts before he began his studies of magical ethnography. The African possessed no surname, and was called Mr. Jones for the ease of the faculty. The Gryffindor students referred to him as Wolf because he belonged to the Wolof people.

The other new members of Gryffindor's quidditch team presented nothing unusual, and given their seeker's inexperience Elizabeth felt confident of a Slytherin victory over them.

Hufflepuff held the next contests for their house team. As predicted, Erin O'Shaughnessy won the position of seeker. Elizabeth almost squealed with joy when Robin told her of the new Hufflepuff keeper. In her opinion Robin could not have sabotaged his own team more effectively if he had tried. If Elizabeth's prediction proved accurate Hufflepuff would lose badly to Slytherin.

Ravenclaw worried Elizabeth. The captain of the Slytherin quidditch team felt deeply thankful she would not face Miss Fowler's team until the final game of the school year. By then, she felt confident, her team would have come together so that they could beat Ravenclaw and gain undisputed claim to the quidditch cup.

Sir William not only backed up Elizabeth's request that all Slytherin students present themselves for the team tryouts but he accompanied her to the pitch and had remained perfectly sober for the afternoon. Elizabeth stayed on the ground with the head of Slytherin house as Mr. Lennox put potential players through their drills in the air. The news that Hufflepuff had taken the cup the year before seemed to fill many of them with the optimism Elizabeth felt herself.

Elizabeth expected little of the first years, but watched their drills first. She saw nothing to change her mind on the prospects of a first-year playing on the house team. The second years demonstrated their ability as well.

Miss Gray faced a rebellion from the Weird Sisters when she ordered the third-years onto brooms.

"No," Miss Crouch retorted. "We-"

"Have other-"

"Things to do."

"No time-"

"To play-"

"Quidditch."

Elizabeth ordered the third-year wizards into the air, then turned to the three witches, "I'll get back to you in a minute."

The third-year wizards demonstrated no particular skills, but Miss Gray had low expectations in regard to them. She had hopes for the witches in that year, however. "I took the opportunity to write to your parents," Miss Gray informed the Sisters. "I informed them that the excessive amount of time you invest in your studies may be detrimental to your health. I suggested that time spent in the air on a broom would be invigorating and provide exactly the sort of relaxation one occasionally needs from her studies."

"And what-" Miss Cooper asked.

"Was the result-"

"Of your subterfuge?"

Elizabeth smiled, "I have notes from your parents," she told them -- producing the letters. She handed the letters to the girls so that they might confirm the familiar handwriting. "They all request you make an earnest effort to play for the team." She looked up and shouted at Mr. Lennox, "Move over into the keeper position, I want to test these three as chasers."

Elizabeth knew she could not force the trio to try their best, and her initial impression was that both Miss Honig and Miss Cooper held back in order to keep from being selected for the team. Miss Crouch's note, however, read how proud her parents would be if she made the team - which inspired her to make a sincere effort. "Nicely done," Elizabeth shouted.

Miss Gray smiled in the aftermath of her praise. As she hoped the competitive drive of the Sisters appeared. If Miss Crouch could be recognized for success they wanted to demonstrate they were every bit as capable. Miss Crouch, unwilling to be outdone by the others tried harder. _ "If I can keep the three of them from fighting with each other, we will have the best team of chasers at Hogwarts,"_ Elizabeth thought with satisfaction.

When the three landed Miss Gray complimented them on the how well they had done. "You are all, of course, still very rough, but with practice I believe the three of you will be magnificent as chasers."

"No thanks," Miss Cooper began.

"No time," Miss Honig added.

"Need to study," Miss Crouch explained. She would have liked to make the team, but feared her friends would get ahead of her in their studies.

"Perhaps we-"

"Will take occasional-"

"Breaks for exercise."

"A pity. Did I inform you that Mr. Andrews will be playing keeper for Hufflepuff?"

Miss Honig smiled wickedly at the prospect, "Mr. Andrews?"

"The third year?"

"The Hufflepuff keeper?"

"Yes," Elizabeth sighed, "I imagined that the three of you might enjoy the prospect of humiliating him on the quidditch pitch. You have the potential to score at will on him if you would develop your skills."

The three looked at each other, their eyes bright, and nodded in agreement. "If you want us," Miss Crouch began.

"To play for Slytherin."

"We would be honored."

The fourth year wizards included Mr. Whisp - who wanted desperately to play seeker, and Mr. Bulstrode - whose swagger proclaimed he believed that he deserved the position of senior beater.

For Mr. Whisp's trial, as for other potential seekers, Turk threw a series of gold-painted walnuts. The Owl could watch for Mr. Lennox to make the throws. The walnuts had not been charmed to dodge or make any sort of evasive maneuvers. And Owl only caught one of them before it hit the ground. Elizabeth sighed. No one had done well on the seeker test, and the team desperately needed someone skilled in the spot. _"Maybe someone will emerge from the older students."_

Turk played very loosely opposite Mr. Bulstrode in the beater drill. He wanted to give the fourth-year opportunity to demonstrate his abilities. Augustus Bulstrode tipped the scales over nineteen stone, and might have been the strongest person, physically, at the school. Unfortunately he was one of those individuals who believed that beating was simply a matter of physical strength. Still, when Turk allowed him an opening, Augie's bat knocked the bludger half-way across the quidditch pitch. On the ground Elizabeth's jaw dropped open in amazement - she had never seen a bludger knocked with such force. Mr. Bulstrode, however, slipped off the broom as the result of delivering the prodigious blow. While he kept himself from falling it took him a minute to regain an upright position. He slipped off two other times during his test as well.

None of the older students fared any better in the quidditch trials. In the name of fairness, however, Elizabeth (backed by Sir William) insisted even Vivien demonstrate her skills on a broom. Elizabeth knew her friend had too much fear of harming a fingernail to play on the team - but expected everyone to make an attempt.

Elizabeth wondered how it was possible for Slytherin to not have a single student who demonstrated the skills necessary for a seeker as Catherine Kelly finished her drill to evaluate seeker abilities. "Thank you all for coming out and participating," she told everyone. "I will consult with Mr. Lennox and we will inform you of the quidditch team for this year."

Most of the students, and Sir William, returned to Hogwarts. Owl retired just beyond hearing range to anxiously wait for news on whether he had been selected. Even without second sight most of Miss Gray's choices appeared obvious, but not for the position he wanted.

"The Sisters for chasers, obviously," she commented.

Turk grunted his assent.

"Mr. Bulstrode has a great deal to learn about beating, and a disinclination to listen to others - but he has the potential to play in the senior position next year if he will work hard this year."

"Big if."

"Unfortunately, that is true."

"Seeker?"

Miss Gray shook her head sadly. "Your thoughts?"

Turk shrugged.

Elizabeth agreed, "I can't decide. I will probably need to think on the subject for a few days."

Mr Lennox looked at the list in Elizabeth's hand and put a thick finger down by the name of Jeremiah Abbot, "Keeper." His finger moved down to the second-years and stopped at the name of a German wizard, Kasper Gutman, "Beater."

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Lennox and raised an eyebrow quizzically. If the tall wizard chose to be laconic she would prove his equal in brevity.

"Roger Moody."

He said the name calmly, but Miss Gray felt like she had been slapped. How could she have been so stupid? Six years earlier, on this very spot, the Slytherin team captain had picked out two first-year students and asked them to prepare with the team for the next year. Roger Moody had always been her ideal of chivalry and fair play in quidditch. Three times during her fourth year he had asked her to dance at Hogwarts balls, and he had nominated her for team captain when he left the school. Elizabeth had often dreamed he might wait for her to graduate and then court her, and when she learned of his engagement last year she had been in low spirits and unable to sleep properly for almost two months. She would never be the captain he had been, but she needed to prepare for the future as he had done. "You're right."

The two headed back to the school, and Owl ran over to join them. "Have you made your decisions?"

"Some of them," Elizabeth answered

"Pick a seeker?"

"No."

It was better than being told he had not been chosen, but not by much. "When do you plan to--"

"I don't know… I will ask you to be broom ward."

"Broom ward? That is a worthless title."

"No it's not. Not this year. I want the Sisters to have matched brooms. No one else at Hogwarts has the broom making skills you possess. And Mr. Bulstrode? Slytherin will need a broom of extraordinary capacity for him… Something with a larger shaft to reduce his habit of falling."

"You want me to make special –"

"The Slytherin team needs you to construct them."

"Only if I receive the position of seeker."

"You didn't do well in your trial."

Owl remained silent for a moment. "Did anyone else do better?"

Miss Gray hesitated, "No," she admitted. "But with work—"

"Do you really believe anyone will work as hard as I? Miss Gray, please, I can do this. I know I can."

Elizabeth sighed. She did not believe Mr. Whisp could do it. But he was correct, no one had performed well in the drills to find a seeker, and he would work harder than anyone else if given the chance. In addition, she needed his skills in the broom shop. "Mr. Whisp, congratulations. You are the Slytherin seeker."

"YES!" the little wizard's cry of joy rolled from the pitch to the walls of the school. He turned back to Elizabeth, "You won't regret this."

Elizabeth feared she would, but knew she had no other choice.

Ravenclaw went through the motions of holding quidditch team trials, but no one took them seriously. Elizabeth frowned as she read the list of Ravenclaw players. Violet Pettigrew, a fifth year witch, held the position of keeper last year – competent but not outstanding. Gaius Diggory, a seventh year, returned as senior beater, but third year Joel Cairo was listed as junior beater. _"Surely that is an error,"_ Elizabeth thought – noticing the name of last year's junior beater, William Goyle listed as a chaser. 'Wee Willie' Goyle had not done especially well as a beater, but Elizabeth could think of only one reason to move Ravenclaw's slightly smaller version of Augustus Bulstrode to a chaser position – and it suggested Miss Fowler would do anything to win the quidditch cup. Fifth year Jonathan 'JW' Wells appeared on the list as chaser, just as the Evil Weasel had told her, and her brother was indeed the Ravenclaw seeker.

* * *

"You want us—"

"To construct—"

"Our own brooms?" the Sisters complained.

"Yes, or ask your parent's to buy three matched brooms. Your strength will lie in working closely with each other. We are fortunate in having Mr. Whisp with us. He can help you."

"More time—"

"From our studies."

"You should have told us," the trio grumbled.

Mr. Dalyrumple unlocked the door for the broom shop. Once broom-making had been a class all first-years took in their fall term. A somewhat broader prosperity for the wizarding community in the last few decades meant an increasing number of students arriving with purchased brooms. Now the shop remained locked most of the time, except for repairs to brooms needed for quidditch play and the occasional scion of a broom-making family such as the Whisps.

Owl's nostrils flared as he took in the smells of the woods and varnishes as he entered the shop with the Sisters. He smiled as he thought of his father's shop on Diagon Alley. "Ladies, welcome to the world of broom-making. This is truly the realm of magic, the room where the Slytherin team will be forged. We will—"

"Let's just—"

"Get this—"

"Over with," Miss Cooper sighed.

* * *

While Gryffindor and Ravenclaw received more time for practice on the quidditch pitch as they prepared for their first game Elizabeth saw her team improving when they were able to fit in time. With the exception of the seeker position she saw them developing nicely. By the evening of the first Hogwarts ball she dared to feel confident about Slytherin's chances.

Only one first year attended the first ball, Livia Bulstrode. Her dance card had been filled through the efforts of her brother - who had quietly threatened a number of smaller students with beatings if they did not put their name on the card placed in front of them. And to Mr. Bulstrode, everyone was a smaller student. Augie's gentle persuasion induced a number of wizards who might have remained in their houses to attend the ball, and the great hall, its benches and tables stored away, had more people than usual for the dance.

The Sisters, resplendent in their new dress robes, came as a group. They remained in a nervous cluster, drawing strength from one another and wondering if they should move away from one another to make it easier for a wizard to approach them with a request for a dance. Mr. Baddock and Mr. Dorkins, two of the third year Slytherin wizards, had asked a dance of each of them after putting their names on Miss Bulstrode's dance card. While there was nothing wrong with the two young wizards - except of course for Mr. Baddock's braying laugh and Mr Dorkins' losing battle with pimples - they were, after all, merely third year students like themselves. They hoped for the glory of being asked to dance by an older wizard.

Typically Elizabeth's first dance was with Robin. "How is Hufflepuff doing?" she asked her cousin.

"Our first year Germans are terribly homesick."

"I mean the Hufflepuff quidditch team."

"You'll see in a month."

"Keeping secrets from me?"

"No," he laughed. "I've learned there is no keeping secrets from you. Humility requires I admit we're not outstanding – no one will reflect back and say in a thoughtful manner, 'Ah, Hufflepuff in thirty-five, – now there was a great team'. But we're as strong as we were last year… Young Mr. Andrews is not yet as good as Miss Diggle, but I think we might have a better seeker in Erin O'Shaughnessy. We're as good as we were when we took the quidditch cup. What does Slytherin look like?"

"I fear 'As good as' won't be good enough this year. Our chasers lack experience, but show tremendous potential. Our junior beater will not be as experienced as Miss O'Shaughnessy, but he will perform respectably…" Elizabeth sighed, "What we really need is a better seeker."

"Mr Whisp…"

"Oh, he knows what being a seeker requires. He knows what every player needs to do, and spends more time advising the beaters and chasers than practicing for his own role in the game."

As she danced with her cousin Elizabeth noted her brother with Miss Fowler. Weasel did not look as happy as she expected, and Elizabeth wondered if his infatuation was over. During the second set, however, Miss Gray noted the Ravenclaw quidditch captain dancing with Mr. Wells and decided that might be the reason for her brother's unhappiness.

Elizabeth was on the floor with Mr. Philpott for the second set, the seventh year Slytherin knew all the latest gossip and told the most awful stories in an amusing manner.

The first ball of the school year always tended to be more chaotic than later balls. Third years took time to adjust to having reached this new level of social interaction. Young women were often reduced to dancing with each other as young men grew tongue-tied and fell silent. The witches hoped that the fact they were dancing would both demonstrate their ability to the wizards, and perhaps even remind them that dancing was, after all, what one was expected to do at a ball.

Elizabeth herself sometimes lacked a partner, but accepted standing on the side during the occasional set when she was not on the floor. Late in the evening, as Elizabeth watched her brother dancing with Miss Fowler for a third time, she heard herself being addressed and asked to dance.

She turned and felt slightly surprised to find Professor Wood making the request, but accepted his hand and accompanied him to the dance floor.

Robert's words in regard to Professor Wood came back to Elizabeth as they danced.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"You appear… I am not certain if preoccupied or out-of-sorts would describe your present state. What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," she lied quickly. Then, realizing that she must be thinking of something, changed her answer to, "Quidditch, of course."

"You should think of other things. There is a larger world out there. And, I dare say, a larger universe as well."

She smiled, "You are right, of course. Pray, what are you thinking about?"

It increased her own unease when he hesitated instead of providing a ready answer. Eventually they settled on London as a topic of conversation. Elizabeth had spent much of the summer with friends and her parents and seen but little of the City.

Professor Wood had become a member of the Royal Astronomical Society over the summer, and submitted two articles for consideration to the Monthly Notices. Between London and astronomy they found sufficient topics for conversation for Miss Gray to feel comfortable in the conversation. It pleased her to be accepted in the company of the faculty.

As Elizabeth danced with Professor Wood, Miss Honig noticed Mr. Potter, standing to one side of the hall, appeared to have no partner for the dance and screwed up her courage to approach the Gryffindor quidditch captain.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked timidly.

"Yes… Miss Honig, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I wanted to thank you for bringing Mr. Kerber's letter to me. It was very kind of you."

"I was happy to deliver it. Have you written to him?"

"Twice. And he has answered both. He writes very charming letters. I was--"

"Are you taken for this dance?"

"No, I--"

He gave her an arm and led her out onto the dance floor.

"My question," she began when they joined the dancers, "was whether you could tell me something about his appearance? You have the advantage of having met him."

"Well… He has two eyes. One on either side of his nose. It is a very traditional arrangement, but still remains the fashion."

She sighed in exasperation, "Is he attractive?"

"I did not find him so, but then I have never found another man attractive."

"I begin to understand Miss Gray's low opinion of you. Please, you know what I mean. How tall is he?"

Charles thought for a minute, then held his hand out some four or five inches over Miss Honig's head.

"Thank you," she smiled. "No one wants a fiancé shorter than herself. Now, as you look around the hall, who would you say mostly closely resembles Mr. Kerber?"

Mr. Potter spent several minutes looking for a close match. He finally pointed to a fifth year Hufflepuff. "Mr. Kerber's nose is more prominent, but the eyes and mouth are much the same. I remember Mr. Kerber's face as somewhat thinner as well. Oh, and Mr. Kerber's hair more closely resembles your own in color and texture."

Deborah smiled. Perhaps her fiancé was not the most handsome of men, but the wizard Mr. Potter had compared him with was nice looking. It was pleasant to have a sense of what the man she would likely marry looked like. She wondered if he were equally curious about how she looked. She plied Mr. Potter with other questions until, at the end of the dance, he chided her, "I am accustomed to talking with dance partners about other topics."

"I am sorry," she blushed.

"That's quite all right," he chuckled kindly. "In your situation I'm certain I would be equally curious."

"Thank you. I do apologize for being such a dull partner."

"You were fine, under the circumstances. But promise that if I ask you to dance at another ball we will spend less time on Mr. Kerber. Oh, and when you write him next, send him my greetings and tell him that I said he has a very pretty fiancée."

Elizabeth waylaid her brother when Mr. Wells claimed his third dance with Miss Fowler. Elizabeth found him to one side staring morosely at the couple. There were, of course, other dancers. But Weasel saw only the one couple.

Miss Gray took him by the arm and dragged him onto the floor. "You had the first dance, and two others," she pointed out in a matter-of-fact tone.

He wished she would keep her voice down, there was too much chance of someone else hearing the discussion. "Yes," he agreed.

"You don't look happy."

"He got three also."

"Either of you get four?"

"No."

Elizabeth shrugged, "Thus far, a tie."

"I'm hoping for a win."

"The school year is just starting. Don't give up."

"I'm not giving up. I'd just like… I don't know."

"You want victory handed to you on a golden platter without any effort on your part. You are not going to get it. You must decide if you want to pursue your goal or not. You can give up now if you don't want to make an effort. Or you can work for what you want – because you believe your goal has value – even though you realize that failure is possible."

He smiled. "Thanks. You're right. I take back some of the bad things I've said about you."

"Has she heard the story of your broken belt?"

He turned pale, "You wouldn't!"

Elizabeth simply smiled. Of course she would not tell the story, at least not now – it was far too entertaining a threat to hold over his head.

As promised, the final dance ended at one in the morning. The Sisters engaged in lively debate all the way to the house. Miss Crouch claimed to have had the best evening, having danced one more dance than Miss Cooper and two more than Miss Honig. Miss Honig asserted that having danced with a seventh year - and the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team - gave her a claim to the most successful evening. "But he's very ugly, with that broken nose," Miss Cooper pointed out.

"No he's not, and it doesn't affect his dancing," Deborah argued.

"On the other hand, I danced with a fifth year from Ravenclaw, Mr. Towler, and he was quite handsome," Miss Cooper said with a superior smile. "Did you dance with any fifth years, Poppy?"

Miss Crouch shook her head no, "But I danced more often." The argument continued all the way back to Slytherin and into their room as they prepared for bed. It might have continued even longer but the fourth and fifth year witches threatened them with physical violence if they didn't quiet down and let other people sleep.

* * *

The stone, a pre-metric unit of measure, equals fourteen pounds.

I'm not certain when people began to be depressed, probably after Freud, but in the early 19th century you suffered from low spirits, melancholy, or a black mood

The Wolof people of West Africa were in contact with the English long before the mid-19th century.

The Astronomical Society of London, founded in 1820, became the Royal Astronomical Society in 1831. The Monthly Notices of the Society began publication in 1827.


	6. Game 1: Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Hogwarts. There are other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

I wish to thank Imablack, List of Romantics, Mr. Wizard, Thomas Linquist, twilight's reflection, A Markov, RonHeartbreaker, and Espoir Noir for reviews. I hate writers who threaten to withhold chapters unless they get reviews, and hope I don't sound like that. But I am discouraged. This story receives half the reviews of my other works, and a tenth of the hits (but has a great hits-to-review ratio). While many say, "Write for your own enjoyment," I find reviews very encouraging as I contemplate 18 more chapters with relatively few readers. Reviews appreciated.

**Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor: Surprises and the Expected**

Elizabeth walked out to the remains of the Hufflepuff chapel on the Sunday afternoon after the first ball. She stared over the low stone wall at the graveyard by the chapel and felt disgust at the state of graves. The Dalyrumples had convinced the Governors to hire their son, Morgan, as grounds keeper – but no one could remember seeing him do a day of work. The couple often appeared blind to their son's faults and were said to hope he might become the school caretaker when they retired. The Board of Governors now feared they could not sack the son without offending the parents and left him in place - with the school grounds largely ignored and overgrown. Perhaps even the Dalyrumples realized Morgan would not be appointed caretaker in their place and stayed on only to keep him from being forced to find honest work. If Elizabeth had her way their son would be set on fire and driven out of town for the way in which the graves of students and faculty who had died at the school over the centuries were neglected.

She looked up at the chapel and sighed, Morgan Dalyrumple could not be blamed for that. It was said that Helga Hufflepuff had laid the first stones for the foundation herself. Mandatory chapel services had ended around the reign of Henry VIII. In approximately the same era Presbyterians destroyed much of the interior art as idolatrous. Quarrels over who should have use of the chapel had resulted in centuries of neglect. Three times Hufflepuff graduates had started financial campaigns to repair the building, but the old quarrels over how the building could be used – by Church of England, Catholics, or Presbyterians kept renovation from beginning.

Now the Scots attended services at the kirk in Hogsmeade, along with a few of the ranters. The Germans and members of the Church of England found their spiritual needs poorly met. In fair weather the Fat Friar listened to the confessions of the Irish and offered absolution at this chapel on Sunday mornings. As for the ranters unwilling to attend services with the Presbyterians… As near as Elizabeth could tell their spiritual needs were met in quarrels with each other.

Back in her room Elizabeth found Mr. Philpott sitting cross-legged on her bed, talking with Vivien, Charlotte, and Kitty about the ball.

"You might have the decency to take your boots off," Elizabeth complained.

"The house elves will take care of any dirt I track in," Mr Philpott sniffed.

"But I have to live with it until they do. And have I missed anything good?"

"He was just asking Charlotte about her wedding plans," Miss Kelly told her friend. "We waited for you in case there is any interesting gossip."

"And Vivien was teasing poor Peter mercilessly," Miss Cattermole added.

Elizabeth knew she shouldn't ask, but couldn't resist, "How?"

Mr. Philpott assumed an air of indignation, "Asking me to open your wardrobe and wondering if my greatest fear would be my father or a naked woman."

Miss Kelly spoke up, "I guessed it would be Professor Sauberkehren ordering him to be caned."

"But I suspect Peter might enjoy being spanked on his bare bottom," Vivien added.

Peter giggled, "You know me too well."

The wizard had nothing terribly interesting to report from the dance. Miss Fowler's three dances each with Mr. Wells and Weasel had not gone unnoticed. Erin O'Shaughnessy, like Vivien, had not accepted two dances from anyone. "Mr. Towler, from Ravenclaw, is quite mad for her, you know. She'll have nothing to do with him. I can't blame her - even I wouldn't touch him. He's nice looking but has all the depth of a thimble."

"I find that impossible to believe," Miss Kestrel objected.

"That he's shallow?"

"That you wouldn't touch him."

Mr. Philpott ignored the comment, "And speaking of third years I--"

"We weren't speaking of third years," Elizabeth objected.

"Yes we were. Mr. Towler danced with Miss Cooper. Now, how did a third year like Miss Honig end up dancing with that very good-looking Mr. Potter of Gryffindor?"

"He is not good-looking," Elizabeth grumbled.

"Yes he is," Mr. Philpott laughed, "Isn't he, Kitty?"

"I don't know about good-looking. Mr. Potter is like a great puppy, always willing to tease and play--"

"He can use me for a chew toy," Mr. Philpott interrupted.

"Down boy. I can't imagine Mr. Potter cares a thing about Miss Honig. I think she approached him. It was very forward of her. Perhaps she is infatuated."

"No," Vivien answered. "Elizabeth introduced them. And I think we know why she wanted to talk with him."

Miss Gray felt it necessary to explain something of what they had learned on the carriage ride. "…And when he arrived at Hogsmeade Mr. Potter asked for an introduction. He had met the wizard Miss Honig's parents are considering as a husband for her."

"Oooh! A third-year engaged! That's a fine piece of news." He turned to Vivien, "I don't know what your problem is, dear."

Vivien's problem, at the moment, was Mr. Philpott. She grabbed the pillow off her bed and swatted him with it. She was joined by Miss Cattermole. After a few minutes of abuse, however, they relented and let the wizard give them other gossip from the ball and such news as he had concerning students who recently graduated.

"Oh, Lizzy, I watched you dancing with Professor Wood. Is there any story there?"

"Did my cousin point that out to you?"

"He did whisper something in my ear while you were dancing," Mr. Philpott confessed.

"I'm surprised you could concentrate on what he was saying well enough to understand a word," Kitty laughed.

"It was difficult," Peter sighed.

"Mr. Wood asked me to dance. There is no story," Elizabeth assured him. "He also danced with Miss Hagrid, Miss O'Shaughnessy, and Miss Dorkins."

Mr. Philpott raised one eyebrow and addressed the others, "Am I the only one who finds it_ terribly_ suggestive that she watched to see who else Professor Wood danced with?"

Elizabeth wondered if she should tear out her hair, or Mr. Philpott's in exasperation. "I paid no attention! That is what Miss Diggory told me at the end of the ball. She is as much a busybody and gossip as yourself."

"_No one_," he told her archly, "is as great a gossip as I. Please, the school hasn't had a good faculty-student scandal in years."

"Then pick one of the other witches he danced with to create one."

"Perhaps Mr. Fletcher was merely jealous when he drew my attention to the dance. Do you still deny your engagement to your cousin?"

Elizabeth realized it was Mr. Philpott's hair she needed to pull out in exasperation.

* * *

The loss of some students through graduation, and the addition of first-year students always disrupted the first weeks of school, but life in Slytherin quietly assumed new patterns only slightly different from the year before.

Elizabeth smiled as she looked around the Common Room before curling into a favorite chair with a thick herbology tome. Young Mr. Black had stubbornly claimed possession of the end of the long table opposite the Sisters in the small right alcove. They accused him of listening to their studies - and he probably did. Mr. Black held the promise of doing very well. In the far left alcove two familiar faces were missing at the card tables, but other students had taken their places. On a chessboard in front of the fireplace Owl and a fifth-year witch studied strategy. Elizabeth found her bookmark and began to scan the pages, looking for a reference to singing nettles. It felt good to be home.

Hufflepuff enjoyed one great change from the previous year, the addition of a Wornum upright pianoforte. Since the policy on such instruments at Hogwarts wasn't clear the owner, Miss Luffkin, refused to say she had smuggled it in. She maintained that she had brought it in transfigured into another form merely because it was more convenient to move. However, in case it was against some obscure and detestable rule on the topic it spent time, when not in use, transfigured into a tea chest.

And while Hogwarts had decreed that waltzes were not allowed at the monthly balls, no rules existed (to the best of anyone's knowledge) against waltzes in the four houses. And just as no one asked if pianofortes were allowed or banned in the houses, no one asked if waltzing was banned either.

Elizabeth, who played the piano tolerably well and knew how to waltz was welcome in Hufflepuff on Thursday evening, the unofficial dance night. Someone had discovered a charm which allowed the instrument to replay a song which had been played on it - which meant Elizabeth or Miss Luffkin was not required to sit at the piano bench and could enjoy the evening with the rest.

Miss Gray usually danced with her cousins or the Bishop. Her height intimidated some of the shorter wizards, and she was somewhat concerned about the location of their heads _vis-à-vis_ her chest during a dance. She considered asking Turk to go to Hufflepuff with her, but the tall Scot seldom attended the monthly balls and Elizabeth feared he would be too embarrassed to actually hold a girl in his arms.

"I did not appreciate you telling Mr. Philpott that Professor Wood was interested in me," she told her cousin on a Thursday evening.

"Too close to the truth?"

"Not in the same hemisphere as the truth." She sighed, "And then he fell back on the old rumor that you and I are engaged."

"One or both of us needs to fall passionately in love so we can squelch that idea."

"Perhaps that would work. I assume you do not mean with each other."

"Of course not. Or have you a better idea?"

"Well, I did suggest to Mr. Philpott that you had spoken to him about me because you found him attractive and that you wanted him to know you were not taken."

Robin groaned, "Please, tell me that you didn't."

"Of course I did. It seems only fair after you started a rumor about me and Professor Wood. Try not to break his heart, let him down gently."

"I think I shall announce our engagement. That will discourage him."

Elizabeth paled, "You wouldn't."

"If he sends me flowers, I will."

"You should give him a chance. So many witches have thrown themselves at you, and you haven't caught one yet."

It was his turn to sigh, "At least you had your infatuation with Mr. Moody. I haven't even had an interesting flirtation since fifth year."

"Interesting flirtation is still more satisfying than a hidden infatuation."

"No it's not. I had to put up with her pouting and temper tantrums when it ended."

She laughed, "But you had a period before the pouting and tantrums when you could enjoy yourself."

"How is this for an idea, if we are both equally alone and miserable in four years we announce our engagement - amaze our friends who have finally accepted that we won't marry?"

"Five, and I will accept your suggestion. But you might give Mr. Philpott a chance."

* * *

On the Thursday evening before the quidditch game Mr. Potter and Miss Fowler asked Sir William for the weather conditions on Saturday morning. He told them they would enjoy perfect weather for the game, sunny and warm.

Elizabeth told the Slytherin team that she wanted them to sit together so they could study the two teams they would face later. She considered wearing Ravenclaw colors for the game as a sign of support for Weasel, but decided against it - she would show no sign of favor towards Miss Fowler. Most of the team was already in the Common Room, ready to leave for breakfast when she arrived. Miss Honig wore a scarf with Gryffindor colors, and endured some teasing from the rest. Miss Gray could not abide Gryffindor, having suffered too many loses at their hands, but told the others, "Leave her alone - we are a team. We must act like one."

Turk finally appeared, and was still rubbing sleep from his eyes as the team trooped into the Great Hall for breakfast.

There was a raven on the Slytherin table. It pecked at the piece of bacon it held in one claw.

"You aren't supposed to be on the table," Elizabeth reminded Munin as she sat down in front of him.

The bird ignored her comment, "Over-cooked. Damn house elves think everyone likes crispy."

"And you shouldn't be eating bacon."

"Why not? I don't see anyone starving. I dare say that one," the raven pointed its beak in the direction of Mr. Bulstrode, "could stand to lose a few pounds."

"It's not good for you."

The bird shook its head in disgust, "It will probably take five hundred years off my life. Your father wants to know how things are going at the school."

"This is not the best--"

"You don't need to tell me now. We'll talk later. I have a little job to do for Ravenclaw and--"

"Ravenclaw?"

"For your brother, actually. He's promised me six sheep's eyeballs to--"

"Sheep's eyeballs?" Miss Crouch interrupted, with a look of disgust.

"Not as tasty as human eyeballs to be sure, but since they stopped beheading traitors those have become harder to find."

Poppy Crouch slid down the bench, further away from Elizabeth and the raven.

Munin turned back to Elizabeth, "I will speak with you after the game," and took flight.

The game was scheduled to begin at nine and some of the team members grumbled as Elizabeth had them leave the main building at eight-forty-five. It was Saturday, and many students took advantage of the day and slept in late. Games averaged over three hours in length, and students could usually sleep until ten, dress at a leisurely pace, and reach the pitch to watch more than half the game.

Augustus Bulstrode complained about having his sleep disturbed to watch other houses play.

"We are here to learn. I want you to watch carefully," Elizabeth told them all.

"I will," Owl promised.

Mr. Abbot and Mr. Gutman appeared nervous and excited to be included with the group as the team found a good spot from which to view the game.

Miss Gray caught the attention of the Sisters, "Watch Miss Fowler. She is the best chaser at Hogwarts. She is not as good as Mr. Chance, who graduated from Gryffindor two years ago - but she is very good. You will not play on her level this year. You may not play on her level next year - but learn by watching her. Watch the keepers for both teams. What are their weaknesses? What scoring drives succeed against them? Which ones fail? Study the game as you study for any of your classes."

As she talked the Hufflepuff team arrived, and Robin seated them by the Slytherin team.

"What are the odds?" Owl shouted to the Bishop.

"They are giving eight-to-one in favor of Ravenclaw."

"The way Ravenclaw has been practicing? It ought to be at least ten-to-one."

"Ah, but remember, we only have Ravenclaw's word on how good they are," the Catholic reminded the little wizard. "We'll know better after today if that is true."

"Has very much been wagered on the game?" Miss Cooper asked.

"I don't believe so," Bishop reported, and he had the pulse of betting at Hogwarts better than any other student. "Students from the two houses supporting their teams. Very little being wagered from our houses on this game."

It appeared that red-haired Mr. Andrews tried to engage the Sisters in conversation - only to have them ignore him utterly. The three did, however, nudge Elizabeth and whisper they would like formal introductions to her cousins.

The large Miss O'Shaughnessy kept a close eye on her sister as the much smaller girl talked about quidditch with Owl.

The conversations among members of the two teams ended as the Ravenclaw team, and a crowd from the house, arrived. The team wore new robes, probably a gift from the Wells family. A sixth year witch led the column. She held a long pole with a crosspiece fastened to the top, and sitting on the crosspiece was a large raven which occasionally flapped his wings. Elizabeth found it difficult to believe Munin would put himself on display for so little a reward as sheep eyeballs, but did not plan to sample the delicacy to learn of their attraction.

The Gryffindor team and their supporters made less of a production of their arrival. The black seeker, with his distinctive scars, drew many stares. Like Owl many of the watchers wondered how someone who had never sat on a broom or seen a game of quidditch before his first year at Hogwarts could have been chosen as his team's seeker.

Members of Gryffindor found places to sit as the two teams lined up on opposite ends of the pitch and Professor Turpin called the captains to the middle of the field. When she finished with her instructions the two captains signaled their teams to take to the air. They joined their teams as Professor Turpin opened the heavy, wooden chest and released the snitch, then set loose the bludgers. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw beaters moved to control the bludgers as Professor Turpin took to the air herself, quaffle in hand. She rose above the players, lofted the quaffle high into the air, and blew her whistle to start the game.

There was some laughter at the expense of Mr. Jones. "He can't fly," Mr. Bulstrode scoffed.

"Quiet, Augie," Owl warned. It was obvious, at least to him and a few other spectators, that while Mr. Jones ignored the conventions of broom behavior the rest of them had learned from birth the African knew what he was doing.

The little wizard planned to spend a lot of time watching the Gryffindor seeker, but he wanted to watch the other players as well and see if he could pick up any information that would help his team. Edward William, the Ravenclaw seeker, flew a rather typical search pattern, but he flew it fast and he focused well as he scanned the air for the snitch. Owl noticed nothing unusual about the Gryffindor chasers.

Elizabeth shared his view of the Gryffindor chasers, and focused more on Ravenclaw's. Mr. Goyle appeared to be nothing more than a lump of flesh mounted on a broom, confirming her earlier fears. The job of Mr. Wells seemed to consist of passing the quaffle to Miss. Fowler when he managed to gain possession and to fly a screening pattern when Rose controlled the quaffle to keep the Gryffindor chasers from stealing it. The Gryffindor keeper, Alfred 'Alfie' Longbottom could not figure out how to stop the Ravenclaw captain as she seemed to score almost every time she gained possession of the quaffle.

Miss Fowler had gotten better in the month of practice at the Wells home. There was a possibility, Elizabeth reflected, that she even played on the level Mr. Chance. But Elizabeth had faced Mr. Chance for four years and done better than anyone else at Hogwarts against him. She felt prepared to face Ravenclaw's captain.

Turk knew the other senior beaters on each of the teams. He had faced them all multiple times. While this year had seen new seekers in each house the next year would see a new senior beater in each house. The Slytherin senior was not the best at the school in terms of offense in the position - that honor probably went to Mr. Potter of Gryffindor or Mr. Diggory of Ravenclaw. But Turk could point with pride to his defensive skills, he alone in the group had never allowed a hit on one of his team members.

The game was over before the late risers ever made it to the pitch. As those who planned to miss the first hour of the game left the school they met the crowd coming back.

"What happened," a late fourth year Hufflepuff shouted to Dark Thomas.

"Over, fastest game in two years."

"Who won?"

"Ravenclaw, by two hundred and twenty."

Augie and Owl argued over the Gryffindor seeker for the rest of the day. Mr. Bulstrode insisted that the black man, although he did not use the phrase black man, had no business playing quidditch - he obviously didn't even know how to ride a broom properly.

Mr Whisp insisted they might have witnessed the start of a new era in quidditch play. Mr. Jones, while failing to capture the snitch before the Ravenclaw seeker had still demonstrated a new style of flying, both unconventional and daring in his openness to dangerous moves. "I tell you, Mr. Jones will change the way the game is played. Other seekers will copy him."

"Just work on catching the snitch, Owl. No damn Kaffir is going to change quidditch."

On the Monday following the game Professor Sauberkehren patrolled a corridor on boggle duty. Suddenly a first year came running to him at a furious pace. "Professor! Professor!" Pericles Finch gasped, "Someone is letting the Cornish pixies out in your classroom!"

The German cursed and took off at a run himself, desperate to get the small creatures back in their cage before they tore his room apart. The curses he kept on the door should have kept students out - but some older students always took it as a challenge to break in and cause chaos. Slightly out of shape the Dark Arts professor was panting and out-of-breath when he reached his classroom - to find everything in the order in which he had left it. A thin, piping noise that he immediately took as the laughter of the boggle could be heard in the distance.

Misdirecting Professor Sauberkehren represented a minor prank in relation to the problems the creature sometimes caused. But the professor took it as a deeply personal insult directed at his abilities. Professor Saxifrage had mentioned the idea that house elves might be able to see the true form of the boggle and the Dark Arts professor stormed into the kitchen and ordered all house elves out into the hallways to patrol.

Some time later, when Mrs. Dalyrumple visited to kitchen to check on the progress of the evening meal, she found it deserted. She stormed out of the kitchen looking for the elves, and whenever she located one she immediately ordered him or her to return to the kitchen. This brought her into a heated exchange with Professor Sauberkehren, but housekeeper trumped professor in terms of ability to give orders to house elves.

"We will go see the Head now," Professor Sauberkehren bellowed.

"Fine by me, I won't have ye givin' orders to me house elves," she shot back."

They didn't speak a word to each other as the stalked through the halls to Penelope Pilton's office.

The Professor began shouting his position as soon as Mrs. Pilton bade them enter. He finished with, "The boggle is disruptive! Its eradication should be a priority! What does it say when a creature such as this can roam the halls causing chaos. It says the school lacks discipline!"

"And finding the creature is more important than feeding students?" Mrs. Dalyrumple shot back. "What sort of priory is--"

"Priority! The word is priority!"

Mrs. Dalyrumple addressed Mr. Pilton, "I ask ye, what sort o' property lets students go hungry?"

"This woman can't even make sense in her speech! How can you listen to her?"

"If the both of you will please lower your voices," Mrs. Pilton requested. "I agree that the boggle is a nuisance, but as the first years have learned the halls and we began to send two students to deliver messages the problems have diminished."

"It made an attack on a professor just this afternoon!"

"Made an attack? On whom?"

The German paused, "Perhaps attack is too strong a word."

"Who did the boggle… Who was the victim of whatever happened?"

"It deceived me."

There was a short pause while the Head of Hogwarts thought. "Mrs. Dalyrumple, please resume your duties."

The housekeeper gave the professor a smug smile as she left. Mrs. Pilton very strongly wished the other woman had restrained her gloating.

When the door closed behind Mrs. Dalyrumple the professor spoke up angrily, "You should have backed me up! You should not favor kitchen staff over faculty!"

"Otto," she sighed, "the well-being of the students is the higher priority. I think you know that. I think you were angry at being the victim of the--"

"But--"

"And you have every right to be angry. And I agree with you that a way to detect and eliminate the creature would benefit the school. I believe you said you have asked the more advanced students to determine a way in which to detect and eliminate the creature?"

He nodded.

"You are doing an excellent job. No one will fault you for having fallen victim to the creature. If it picked you out as a target it was probably because it realizes you are the greatest threat to it in the school."

He smiled almost imperceptibly and Penelope Pilton's mood improved slightly, a little flattery usually had a soothing affect on its recipient.

"You, or one of the older students, will devise a way to deal with the creature. I dare say the largest impediment has been how rare they are."

"True… True…"

"Didn't you have a student doing work with boggarts?"

"Yes, Miss Gray of Slytherin."

Mrs. Pilton frowned slightly. She did not like Miss Gray. On the other hand, she would accept any help in ridding the school of the boggle. "Well, as I said, you are doing a fine job. Involving the older students was a very good decision on your part. Surely someone will devise a plan."

The German clicked his heels and bowed, then left to return to the hunt for the boggle.

* * *

In 1532 Henry VIII broke with the Catholic church only enough to divorce his first wife. During the reign of his son Edward (r. 1547-1553) English reformers made the Church of England more Protestant. Henry's daughter, Bloody Mary, executed a number of them when she gained the throne (r. 1553-1558). And Henry's daughter Elizabeth brought back the Church of England. Scottish reformers declared their state church Presbyterian in 1560, although Mary, Queen of Scots, refused to recognize the fact.

Robert Wornum began manufacturing upright pianos in London in 1811, some of his innovations are still in use today.

The last beheading on the Tower Hill took place in 1747. Beheading, if you got a decent executioner with a sharp axe (not everyone did), was considered more humane than hanging. Nobles were more likely to get the axe, commoners the rope. After the beheading the heads were often displayed on the walls of the Tower. The last execution at the Tower was the execution of a German spy by firing squad in August, 1941.

I wanted to say the Sisters cut Mr. Andrews. Cutting meant to ignore someone, to treat them as unworthy of notice - and in polite society was a deadly insult. You were supposed to acknowledge the presence of others, even of your worst enemies. But cut has a different connotation today, and I didn't want people imagining they drew switchblade knives on the poor guy.

Kaffir might have been more offensive in the 19th century than the 'N' word, which was ubiquitous in the era. (See Huckleberry Finn.) Augustus Bulstrode probably used the 'N' word, but I couldn't type it. Kaffir has softened a bit through obscurity in most countries.


	7. Dueling Club

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Dueling Club **

Professor Sauberkehren stopped Elizabeth as she headed for the door at the end of dark arts. "Dueling Club will have its first meeting this Wednesday. Will you be there?"

"If you would like me to."

"You are a great help in preparing the younger students. I appreciate all that you do."

After such a compliment there was no way for Elizabeth to remain absent from the meeting. The doors to the Great Hall were barred after the students finished their supper on Wednesday evening and house elves worked to clear the space. Tables were moved back against the walls and benches arranged for spectators to watch. There would probably be very few spectators the first night, but there would be curious students who wondered if they should join the club or not.

Elizabeth saw the Owl among the students waiting outside the doors until the great clock struck the half hour at eight-thirty. "Will you be dueling this year?" she asked.

He shook his head, "No, not for me. I've joined the Galens. We decided to hold our meetings with the Dueling Club, it gives us practice."

"Not much, I hope," she laughed. The Galens, named for the ancient physician, worked on the healing arts.

"You'll be helping with the duelists again?"

"Better that than me trying to duel."

"What really happened?"

"I was a complete, utter, abject, and miserable failure at dueling. I wanted very badly to succeed - my father was the Slytherin champion when he was at Hogwarts. I tried for two years. At the start of fifth year Professor Sauberkehren suggested, in the kindest possible way, that he didn't want to see me hurt and asked if I could instruct the third-years on dueling etiquette. He says it helped him and Professor Thomas and he asked me last year and this year to continue. I--"

She fell silent as Professor Sauberkehren swept into view, with Professors Flamel, Thomas, and Wood following behind him. The Dark Arts professor noticed Elizabeth and gestured for her to join the teachers. She caught the Vampire smiling and remembered Robin's words - then shook it off. Her cousin was just trying to distract her. There were still a few minutes before eight-thirty when he addressed the students. "Dueling Club is only open for students third year and above. Any first and second year students present at this time must return to their houses. You will be allowed to watch the competitions in the winter and spring terms, but you must leave now."

He waited a few minutes as a number of students left. "I will place a conjunctivitis curse on any first or second year I find in the Great Hall tonight," he warned - and the last two underage students fled. As they disappeared down a corridor the clock struck and the door swung open. "Find a place to sit," he said as he led them into the Great Hall. "The professors and I will give you a demonstration. Professor Wood was unable to test himself against faculty last year and Professor Flamel is new this year. Following the demonstration Miss Gray of Slytherin will offer the prolegomena of dueling to the beginning students at the far end of the hall. You will not be allowed to participate in duels until she has approved your behavior."

Professors Wood and Thomas moved to different ends of the long green carpet in the center of an open space at the front of the room. Students sat in rows on either side of the dueling field defined by the carpet. Had the house elves been so careless as to set up benches at the ends the students would have had the good sense not to sit there. "I like a sense of the ability of faculty members at dueling," the Dark Arts professor explained. "Professor Thomas is very good. This contest will only involve simple disarming spells."

Professor Wood looked slightly nervous, "I don't really duel. Try not to injure me too badly," he requested.

"I won't hurt you at all," she promised.

The two bowed formally to each other. They assumed the 'wands down' position, and Professor Sauberkehren announced, "Now!"

_ "Expelliarmus!"_

"I thought I could do a little better than that," Professor Wood apologized as a fifth-year Gryffindor retrieved his wand.

Professor Thomas smiled as the Dark Arts teacher pointed out the obvious, "She is very good. This will be best two out of three, so you have at least one more chance."

Professor Wood resolved to try harder in the second exchange, and while he might have been slightly faster than in his first effort the outcome was no different.

The two bowed again, and shook hands.

"Thank you," the German told the Astronomy instructor as he left and found a place on a bench to sit. Professor Sauberkehren turned to the students, "That is how we want all duels to end at Hogwarts. If there are issues between two students it ends with the fighting of the duel. Win, or lose, you will bow and shake hands with your opponent." He found Professor Flamel in the audience, "Professor, if you would come forward, please."

"I really don't believe in dueling," Professor Flamel protested as he took his place on the carpet.

"It is a harmless way to let the students work out some frustration," Professor Thomas answered.

"No, it is not. Dueling is serious business and we should not make a game of it. We—"

"We will discuss the philosophy of dueling later, if you please," Professor Sauberkehren requested.

The two professors bowed and assumed the 'wands down' position. "Now!"

Professor Thomas experienced a sensation not unlike Professor Wood as a Ravenclaw student retrieved her wand. "I thought you don't believe in dueling?"

"I don't believe in play fighting. If you are faced with someone trying to harm you or your family you should use whatever curses you know for their protection. A dark wizard will not bow to you and wait for you to assume your stance."

Professor Thomas smiled, "Forgive me for thinking you don't take this seriously. You take it seriously indeed. But can I suggest that the skills learned here might save a life?"

It was his turn to smile and nod, "Forgive me for suggesting this might be frivolous, you are quite right."

They bowed and faced off for their second round, which to Professor Thomas's frustration ended up very much like the first.

"You are very good," she told him as they shook hands.

"I thought I was too out of practice," he admitted, "it has been a few years since I did this."

The Dark Arts instructor put out an arm when Professor Flamel began to move towards the benches, "If you don't mind, I would like to test myself against you also."

The potions instructor hesitated for a second, then shrugged, "If you wish."

The results were very much the same as the contest with Susan Thomas. Professor Sauberkehren felt some resentment as he congratulated Professor Flamel. The Dark Arts professor took excessive pride in his dueling skills and hated to be defeated in front of the students. The theory that the duel resolved all differences sounded very good in theory, but didn't always work in practice. The German sighed, _"The duel is over. I should feel no anger… But I need to practice."_

Following the demonstration by the professors the third years, and two fourth-years who had not been interested in dueling the previous year, went with Elizabeth to a far end of the hall for preliminary instruction while Professors Sauberkehren and Thomas worked on basic drills with the older students. Professor Wood stayed to watch the older Gryffindor students while Professor Flamel went back to his wife in the home they had rented in Hogsmeade.

Rather than beginning with bows and the various stances that could be used for the start of duels Elizabeth began with some history.

"… After the goblin attack on Hogwarts the art of dueling was a required subject. It is now—"

Mr. Baddock raised his hand, "When was that?"

Miss Cooper bumped him with her shoulder to shut him up, she hated to see a Slytherin look bad on any subject, especially history when Mr. Andrews was present to show off his knowledge. "That was when," she began.

"The Goblin's Head."

"Hung up their sign." Miss Honig finished.

"Correct. Although the skull was gone before my time. Now—"

"Do you know what happened to the goblin skull after it fell from the pike?"

"No, I don't. Now—"

"Is that why history class spends so much time on the goblin wars?"

Two or three students joined in agreeing that far too much time was spent on goblin wars in history class, and Elizabeth needed a minute to reclaim the group's attention.

"Is the goblin attack why third years are allowed to begin dueling?" Mr. Andrews asked.

"Very likely," Elizabeth answered. "I had a great-great-great aunt, Mary Fletcher, who was a third year that spring. Do any of you know of relatives who were third-years then?"

Two raised their hands.

"Take them as a model," Elizabeth told them. "Live in a manner that, a hundred years from now, your family will be as proud of your memory."

"Not if I have to go through that," a third-year Ravenclaw whispered more loudly than he should to the friend sitting beside him – who laughed.

Miss Gray glared in their direction. "It is commonly thought that first and second years are not mature enough to participate in duels. It is not clear that all third and fourth years are sufficiently mature." There was some laughter at the expense of the two wizards from Ravenclaw.

Elizabeth then began to drill the group on bows. "Remember, you will not be able to actually duel until I say you are prepared. And you will not have my permission until I see your command of the basics." She had originally thought she might be able to begin working with them on some of the basic stances such as 'wands down', 'wands up', 'wands in sleeve,' but decided that simply getting the entire group through a dignified bow would be sufficient for the first evening. She would have to reprimand the Sisters when they got back to Slytherin. The three absolutely refused to bow to Mr. Andrews.

* * *

Professor Sauberkehren decided that a password represented the best means to detect the boggle. Each day he would give the heads of the four houses the password to give to their students.

Of course, the boggle merely had to demand the password first from a student in order to learn the day's new password.

So the Dark Arts professor increased the level of difficulty. There were two new passwords each day, the first to be given in response to the first challenge, and the second as a countersign.

The boggle might have found a way to solve the need for a double password, but it didn't need to. Some of the students with thicker skulls would forget one password, or the other, or would remember the password from the day before. Each day a number of students had wands pulled on them for their failure to respond correctly and were marched to the Dark Arts classroom by a student eager for the reward offered. Professor Sauberkehren then learned he had no definite way to distinguish if apparent students were genuine students or a shape-shifting boggle, so after collecting two or three he would escort them to the kitchen where the house elves would look them over and assure him they were all human. The professor reluctantly concluded he was causing more chaos for himself than the boggle managed and dropped the effort.

* * *

The next week things went slightly better at dueling club. Miss Honig decided to drop dueling and join the Galens, but it appeared to be from preference and not to avoid bowing to Mr. Andrews. Both Poppaea Crouch and Sarah Cooper bowed to Mr. Andrews, but they informed Elizabeth before the meeting, "We may bow."

"But we won't mean it."

Elizabeth didn't care if they meant it or not, at least they demonstrated proper etiquette.

With the history lesson of the first week over Miss Gray was able to move into more details of conduct during duels. "You may only use curses in dueling club if you know the charm to remove the curse. Anything which causes permanent harm is forbidden."

A Gryffindor raised his hand, "What if you take the curse off, but the person still has some sort of problem?"

"Then you obviously didn't know the charm to lift the curse well enough."

"No, seriously. What if you hit someone with a stunning spell, but you hit the person so hard you break a rib or something? You didn't mean to cause an injury, but you did."

"A good question. There will be a panel of judges for most competitions and they can rule as they wish. In the hypothetical you present, since a stunning spell is not intended to break bones, the judges would probably rule it an accident and award you with the win."

"When do we learn the killing curse?" another Gryffindor wanted to know.

"That is strictly for seventh years who have shown themselves _very_ responsible. As you might guess it may not be used in duels."

"Do you know it?"

"We are supposed to be talking about dueling etiquette. Remember, you can not duel until I say you are ready." They quieted slightly. "If you do well with stances this week we might start on some of the more basic spells next week, such as stunning and disarming. By the end of the autumn term you should be working on the basic curses and able to meet with the rest of the club."

Miss Cooper raised her hand, "What if we already know a number of curses? Can we use them?"

"You may use them when you meet with the rest of the club. And, as I said before, if they do not cause permanent injury and you know the charm to counter any curse you use. And you will need to know the basic spells and curses. In winter term there will be informal competitions to establish who is the best at particular spells and curses. I hope you will have all graduated to the larger meeting by then."

"Is that when we can challenge other wizards to duels?" a Ravenclaw wizard asked.

"You may, in theory. It is considered a sign of weakness to challenge a younger witch or wizard to a duel unless you have very good reason to do so, and it is therefore unlikely you will be challenged. While you will be allowed to challenge older wizards and witches, the fact they have more experience than yourselves means you will probably lose the duel. Third years seldom issue challenges."

"And in the spring term," Miss Crouch asked. "We will be able to compete in the formal contests?"

"You may, if you wish. I expect you will all compete in the contest to determine the third-year champion. You may enter the house contests as well, and can enter the Hogwarts champion contest if you wish. Many third and fourth year students chose not to enter the house and school championship contests. There is no shame in not competing until you are older."

"Has a third-year ever been school champion?" a witch from Ravenclaw inquired.

Miss Gray had to admit, "I'm not certain."

Mr. Andrews raised his hand. "The last third year to win the house championship was a Slytherin wizard around fifty years ago."

Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper nudged each other and smiled at the news. It sounded like time for another third year from Slytherin to capture the title.

* * *

The second monthly ball was held the next weekend.

Despite the fact their teams would be competing in the next quidditch game Elizabeth and Robin shared the first dance.

"The same wager on the outcome as always?" she asked

"Of course. Haven't we already agreed on that?"

"I simply want to make certain you don't forget. You've had to pay for three meals and I've only paid for one. I was afraid when you heard how strong our team was you'd call the wager off."

"Not at all… Oh, can your junior beater actually play an entire game without falling off his broom?"

"Sarcasm is very unbecoming."

As she danced with Robin, Elizabeth noticed that Miss Fowler danced with Mr. Wells during the first set.

Owl had asked Elizabeth for the second set. While she would have hesitated to waltz with the small wizard the school balls, where contact was never more than limited hand holding, were acceptable.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"Very. I want to well… Your brother is very good."

"I'm not sure if I should thank you for the family compliment or not. We will have to play them next spring." They both chuckled slightly.

"And you really thought Mr. Jones showed great potential?"

Elizabeth wished she hadn't asked the question as Owl enthused about the black seeker's style of flying. Eventually Elizabeth interrupted his rapturous description with, "What have you heard about Erin O'Shaughnessy?" and nodded in the direction of the fifth year.

Owl sighed, "Everyone agrees she is wonderful. She even allowed me to put my name on her dance card."

"Please, don't make me hurt you. We were talking quidditch."

"Oh, sorry," the easily distracted young man answered. "Quidditch… You want me to be honest?"

"I would appreciate that."

"I wouldn't," he muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Those making book on the game have a carpet in favor of Hufflepuff. The common opinion is that the seekers should be ranked as your brother, Erin O'Shaughnessy, then me, and finally Mr. Jones."

"And your opinion?"

"Mr. Jones is vastly under-rated. He is probably second now, and could easily become first with a little more practice."

"So, your opinion is that you are the weakest seeker at Hogwarts?"

"To be honest, yes."

"You said you could do it. I believe you can. You are working very hard."

"Hard work will not entirely cover up a lack of ability."

"I gave you the position of seeker because I believe you can do it."

"Thank you. But I believe you gave me the position because you had no other choice."

"There are always choices. You were the best one I could make. You can do it."

He smiled his thanks, "I'll do my best."

She returned the smile, but her heart was not in it.

During the second set Elizabeth had noticed her brother dancing with Miss Fowler. He stood to the side during the third dance and she approached him. "Lost your position this ball?"

"Mr. Wells asked for the first dance ages ago."

"And you've asked for the first dance at the next ball, of course."

"She won't accept an invitation until after this ball. I will be asking tomorrow morning when I see her."

"And how many dances will you have this evening with her?"

"Three."

"Have you asked anyone else?"

"No."

"You might ask Miss Honig. Father would appreciate that. I noticed she lacked a partner for the second set."

He shrugged, "I guess I can ask. Will it make me look bad?"

"Excuse me?"

"Will Rose think I'm fickle if I dance with someone else?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "There is a chance she will fail to recognize you as an obsessive lunatic if you ask someone else to dance. She might even mistake you for a gentleman. By all means, you should shield her from the truth for as long as possible."

"Fine, I shall ask Miss Honig for a dance… Do you think Vivien could help me?"

"I'm not certain you can be helped, but what help are you looking for?"

"Anything that might give me a slight advantage over Mr. Wells, or undercut him in some way."

"She would certainly be the person to ask, not that you will have a chance to talk with her this evening, her dance card is full."

"I know that, but it is a month until the next ball. I'll ask if she has any ideas that might help me."

Leaving her brother Elizabbeth went over to talk with Miss O'Shaughnessy, who was staring at her younger sister. The two talked of the quidditch teams and what they imagined would take place in the game the following week. Elizabeth talked of her younger sister, Pearl, and Miss O'Shaughnessy talked about the stress of having a popular younger sister.

When no one approached either of the two tall women for the fourth set they decided to go out on the dance floor together.

Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper danced more often than at the first ball. All three of the Sisters danced at one point of the evening or the other with Mr. Baddock and Mr. Dorkins. Owl also had his name on each of their dance cards. Mr. Bulstrode asked Miss Crouch for a dance, and while he danced poorly she accepted the invitation. She suspected the point of asked her to dance was merely to make it plain that he was _not_ asking Miss Cooper to dance, but she liked the idea of dancing. Unfortunately Mr. Bulstrode was clumsy and inattentive enough to suck any joy out of the dance. Mr. Towler danced with Poppy and Sarah.

"The man makes Mr. Bulstrode sound like an intellectual," Miss Crouch complained after her dance with Mr. Towler. "I can't believe you boasted about dancing with him at the last ball."

"Well, he is a fifth year and very handsome," Sarah reminded her. "Perhaps it is too much to expect him to have a brain also."

Poppy Crouch sighed, "At least he dances well."

Miss Honig received fewer invitations to dance at this ball, although she danced in the third set with Mr. Philpott. He mostly questioned her about her likely engagement. "How did you know about that?"

"After you danced with Mr. Potter at the last ball some people thought you terribly forward, but Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel said that you had been formally introduced and suggested that might be the reason you had spoken with him…"

For the most part Deborah felt ignored at the ball. Robin noticed the amount of time she spent to the side of the room and asked for a dance later in the evening, which she gladly accepted.

"Thank you," she told him as they went onto the floor.

"There is no need to thank me, I enjoy the balls." He paused for a minute, wondering if the question in his mind was somehow indelicate. "It, ah, almost seemed like people were avoiding you."

"I know," she said glumly. "I wonder if it is because I'm Jewish, but I had more invitations to dance at the last ball."

"There is a rumor going around that you are engaged."

"Might be engaged. My parents and his parents are discussing the matter. I try not to talk about it because the matter is not settled. How did you hear about it?"

"Mr Philpott has been talking."

Miss Honig rolled her eyes and muttered, "Wonderful," in a tone of voice that indicated she believed it was anything but wonderful. "He has utterly destroyed my chances to find partners at the balls."

Robin seemed puzzled, "What difference does it make?"

"Apparently none to you. You are a gentleman--"

"No I'm not."

"Perhaps technically you are not. But you are probably a better person than most of them in your behavior -- and to me that says you are a real gentleman. You are here because you like to dance, and--"

He shrugged, "I'm not certain I enjoy dancing. But it is a wonderful place to meet people from the other houses I might not talk to under normal circumstances."

"It speaks well for you either way. I like to dance, and I agree with you -- it is nice to meet students from the other houses -- but many see it primarily as a chance to make the acquaintance of potential romantic partners. If I have a fiancé then I am not a potential romantic partner and am less likely to be asked to dance."

"That doesn't seem right."

"I am not sure if it is a matter of right or wrong; it is human nature."

The Bishop came over to ask Miss Honig for the next dance. Deborah suspected that he had been pushed to ask her by Mr. Fletcher and wasn't certain if she should feel grateful for the attention or resentful that she had become an object of pity. She did not know the Bishop well, and accepted the invitation with mild trepidation. She actually found herself enjoying the dance. Like herself, although for different reasons, the gangly Irishman was not looking for a romantic partner. And rather than trying to proselytize her as she had feared he seemed more interested in commiserating with her on the subject of being judged on the basis of faith.

Miss Honig hoped that Mr. Fletcher might make the same suggestion to the Twins. The next Hufflepuff to ask her to dance, however, was the red-haired Mr. Andrews.

She turned him down. She realized, even as she said no, that it created a problem. Insulting the young man would not appear gracious – and might eliminate invitations from other Hufflepuffs tonight and at later balls. If she said she was tired and was no longer dancing it meant there would be no other invitations that evening from Hufflepuff – and the insult would be visible if she danced with anyone else.

"I'm sorry, I have a headache and need to rest for a dance or two," she told the third year.

"No problem," he grinned, "if you get feeling better – and I'm not dancing with anyone else – the invitation remains in effect."

He wandered over towards a pair of third year witches from Gryffindor and Miss Honig sighed. If he had not so unfairly deprived the Sisters of their proper recognition as the best students in their class he might have been a very decent young man. But the cruelty of his behavior could not be overlooked or forgiven – even if one wanted to dance so badly she might have accepted an invitation from Mr. Bulstrode if he had asked.

At eleven Miss Gray danced a set with Mr. Philpott. "Anything of interest to report about the ball?" she asked the gossip master.

"Not yet, but the ball is not yet over. Professor Wood has not danced with you yet."

"You make it sound like a certainty that he will."

"Four knuts says that he will ask you. I can't say how you will answer."

"That is a very small wager."

"I am a poor man. You have observed Miss Fowler?"

"Indeed."

"The bettors give five-to-one odds that in winter term your brother shall receive a single dance."

"Where can I place my bet?"

"I don't know, the news came from the Bishop - he can probably tell you. Are you wagering your brother will remain in the Fowler handicap or be scratched from the competition?"

"Did I see you dance with Miss Honig earlier?"

"You are changing the subject. A very sweet girl. I wanted details on the nuptials, but, alas, she has so few it was a wasted dance."

"Is that why you don't appear your normal cheery self?"

"No I was watching your earlier dance with Miss O'Shaughnessy and bemoaning the double standard."

"What double standard? The fact that wizards are always assumed to be more competent than witches or the opportunities that you are allowed and we are denied? It is good of you to realize our position."

"I bemoan the fact it is acceptable for two witches to dance together, and there would be sneers and laughter if two wizards tried."

"The only reason women dance together is because of a shortage of men at the balls."

"Please," he sighed, "there could be twice as many men as women, and some women would still dance with each other."

"Given how clumsy so many men are I concede that is possible."

"Lizzy, you are a seventh year and a Slytherin. You cannot be so naïve that clumsy wizards is the only reason you can conceive. Do you really believe Professor Turpin and the woman she lives with are not sharing the same bed?"

"Our home in London is small. I share a bed with my sister."

"But I don't believe you are doing_ that_ with your sister."

Elizabeth blushed, "I merely said it to show that one can't assume things without evidence."

"You truly believe they are not lovers."

"I truly believe I don't know. What she does in her own home is not my concern. Unlike some people I could name she is at least discrete in her preferences."

Peter sighed, "I do not know how you women manage it… Is there some sort of secret signal? Does one give a wink and nod to signify you are interested in another woman? Men, as you say, are clumsy. Too many fear to indicate a preference in another man - afraid of being scorned or worse. But I stand as a lighthouse in a sea of uncertainty, a welcoming beacon letting the curious and hesitant know that they are not alone and offering them safe haven."

"Does it work, your beacon duty?"

"Most assuredly."

"And yet I never see you surrounded by love-struck swains."

"I can be terribly discrete."

It was her turn to sound skeptical. "You?"

"Indeed, I will not bring scandal to anyone who depends on my trust. I can also make quiet introductions of individuals. I serve a very useful function here at Hogwarts. I am certain that when I graduate they shall have to re-invent another me."

"There shall never be another you."

"You flatter me, but I dare say you are right."

Peter smiled and whispered, "Four knuts," when Professor Wood walked toward them at the end of the set.

"Maybe he will ask you to dance," she whispered in return.

Miss Gray and the professor talked of the Gryffindor third years and how they were progressing in the dueling club as they danced.

Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch both did tolerably well at the ball, seldom lacking partners. Few witches had the luxury of starting the ball with a full dance card. The two had the same number of dances that evening, but argued over who had been asked by the more interesting wizards. They sympathized with Miss Honig for her relative lack of partners, and envied the fact she had danced with two seventh years - and Mr. Fletcher was both very handsome and the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team. She also danced with the Ravenclaw seeker. They expressed shock and outrage that Mr. Andrews had dared to ask her for a dance, but chastised her for not insulting him as he had deserved. The two vowed they would spurn him completely if he had the effrontery to ask them to dance.

To the great relief of the fourth and fifth year witches the trio ended their discussion when they reached their room.

Miss Honig yawned, "Next weekend."

"Our first quidditch game."

"Are you as nervous as I am?" Miss Crouch finished. The other two nodded in agreement.

* * *

Medical writings by Galen, the second century Roman physician and philosopher, were still read as late as the 19th century. Wiki errs in crediting William Harvey with the discovery of blood's circulation (Galen, unable to see capillaries hadn't understood it). But we find mention of blood's circulation in books centuries older than Harvey which treat it as known fact. Damn Brits take credit for everything.

Carpet - three-to-one odds, also known as a gimmel. I don't know if the expression goes back to the 19th century or not.

England was _very_ class conscious in the 19th century, and the gentry class clear and distinct. Other than Sir William, whose knighthood will be explained in a later chapter, the faculty and students at Hogwarts are strictly commoners, although some, like the Malfoys, can trace their lineage back to the Norman conquest and have amassed more wealth than most members of the gentry class.


	8. Game 2: Slytherin vs Hufflepuff

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Game 2: Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff  
**

Elizabeth had noted a white-tailed eagle on more than one occasion among the legion of owls in the Hogwarts Great Hall at breakfast. It had brought messages to Miss Honig. This morning it bore a small package on its leg. When Deborah arrived with the other Weirds the eagle presented its leg. She removed the package and the great bird spread its wings and let out a scream which seemed designed to intimidate the owls before it flew off.

The display drew the attention of all the students in the hall. Those at the Slytherin table gathered around to watch Miss Honig open the package while students at other tables merely found polite ways to stare in that direction rather often.

Deborah blushed at the attention. "I think I shall wait until I'm back in the room to open this."

"You'll open it now," Sarah warned.

"Or we'll open it for you," Poppy finished.

"It wouldn't be fair,"

"Everyone wants to know."

The Jewish girl was burning with curiosity herself. "All right, I'll open it." She undid the bit of string around the small box and was startled when something inside the box pushed off the top. A small, clay figure - roughly human in shape - had finished the opening. It sat up in the box, stood, stepped out of the box and removed a piece of paper on which it had been resting. It handed the paper to Deborah and bowed low.

"What is it?" Poppy asked

"And what does the note say?" Sarah finished.

The small clay figure explored the table as Deborah glanced at the letter, most of which she considered too private to read aloud - at least in a place as public as the dining room. Students from other houses crowded the table to get a look at the small form and whisper questions about it, enough so that some faculty members became curious about whatever held the students' attention and went out to see it for themselves.

Professor Sauberkehren darkened in anger and scowled at the sight, then abruptly spun on his heel and returned to the faculty table. Miss Crouch noticed his behavior, "What was that all about?" she whispered.

"I'll tell you later," Miss Honig promised.

When they got back to their room Deborah explained. "This is a golem. It's a small golem, but it is a golem. It takes a very powerful wizard to animate one."

"But that doesn't explain the way Professor Sauberkehren reacted."

It was Miss Honig's turn to look grim, but she told her story with a certain satisfaction. "The story is that years ago, if the Dawn Knights couldn't find any vampires or werewolves to slay, they used to hunt down and kill Jewish wizards. Once two of them heard rumors of a wizard and went in search of him. They did not return. Three more set out to find their comrades. They did not return either. Six went out to kill the wizard. One of them returned alive with a story of a great clay monster guarding the Jewish village where the wizard served as rabbi."

"So, you are saying…"

"I simply mention the Knights soon limited themselves to vampires and werewolves. But even this little golem would appear to be a reminder of their failure."

Professor Sauberkehren's normal practice was simply to ignore Miss Honig in classes. His dislike for the Jewish girl had been so strong, and pointed, in her first year that Mrs. Pilton had been forced to call him to her office and tell him he must behave in a more professional manner. Since that day he usually ignored her completely. The day the golem arrived he appeared openly hostile in class, but said little. Fifth year classes and above, however, were promised that the first student who could create a golem would receive the top marks for his or her class in Dark Arts.

* * *

On Tuesday, before the start of practice, Augustus Bulstrode issued an ultimatum. "I won't play if Sarah Cooper is on the team. She shouldn't be in Slytherin, we all know that, and we should treat her as a mistake on the part of the sorting hat."

"You are not the captain," Elizabeth snapped. "You don't decide who is on the team. Now, get on your broom!"

"No. I won't play on a team with something like her. You are the captain. It is your choice. Her or me?"

"I need three chasers, stop this foolishness."

"It is easy to find another chaser. It is much harder to find another beater. But, as you say, the choice belongs to the captain. Which of us leaves?"

"I will not be blackmailed. If you won't listen - I don't need you."

"You do need me. You don't have a--"

"Get off the field," she told him coldly. "Slytherin needs to practice. I intend for us to win. If you don't want Slytherin to win you are useless to me."

Mr. Bulstrode pointed to Kasper Gutman, "He isn't ready! You have to -- "

Turk had moved over behind Elizabeth. "Off, now!" she ordered again. The Scot's scowl threatened violence if Augustus tried to argue and he turned and stalked off the pitch. Elizabeth sighed, unsure what to do.

Mr. Gutman shared the worry. "I can't play! I'm not ready."

She turned to him. "You have to get ready. We've got a game on Saturday. I need two beaters." She turned to Mr. Lennox, "Turk… Do what you can."

The large man nodded.

She turned back, "Practice. Every day you must find time to practice with Mr. Lennox. We need you."

"I'll… I'll do my best," he promised in a shaky voice.

Mr. Gutman may well have done his best. He worked long and hard with Turk each day after classes, but it was obvious to everyone he was not ready. He could handle the bludger perfectly well in training exercises, but didn't yet have the strength or cunning to compete against a real opponent. Elizabeth dreaded the weekend's game. A few times she almost considered asking another person to serve as chaser to get Mr. Bulstrode back. She could return Miss Cooper to the team after the game and Kasper would have more time to prepare for the next game. But something in Elizabeth rebelled at the idea of giving in to extortion. She racked her brain to think of some way to postpone the game.

* * *

The announcement by the Dark Arts professor in regard to the creation of a golem brought a large number of students to Deborah, begging for her to help them fashion one. She patiently explained that only a Jewish witch or wizard, and only an especially powerful Jewish wizard, had any hope of creating a golem. Two wizards, who both ranked towards the bottom of their class, offered to convert to Judaism if she would teach them. She explained, in some detail, the process by which a wizard could become a proselyte.

One turned pale and excused himself quickly. The second placed his hand over the portion of his anatomy in question -- as if the question itself represented some sort of threat – and left hurriedly.

The Sisters needed something to take their minds off the weekend's game and the prospect of lacking a capable beater, and Miss Honig wanted very much to send something special to Mr. Kerber after the arrival of the golem.

"Oh, I think I have an idea," Miss Cooper exclaimed when Deborah mentioned her desire to the Sisters.

"What?"

"You say he probably wonders what you look like?"

"Of course he wonders," Miss Crouch interrupted. "Or he does if he is human. He is human, isn't he, Deb?"

Miss Honig laughed, "I would assume so, Poppy." She turned back to Sarah, "What is your idea?"

"I found a charm. We need to cut off a lock of your hair and send it to him—"

"That hardly requires a charm," Poppy pointed out.

"Let me finish. I put a charm on it. If he sleeps with the lock of hair under his pillow he will see you in his dream."

Miss Crouch objected to the plan, "You know you shouldn't be writing to Mr. Kerber at all. It is not appropriate at all for the two of you to exchange letters. And a lock of hair? Too intimate."

"Don't be ridiculous," Miss Cooper protested, "if you discovered your parents were talking about finding someone for you to marry, you'd want to know more about him – wouldn't you?"

Miss Crouch hesitated a second. "Let me find a pair of scissors."

"You need to hold the lock of hair while I start saying the charm," Miss Cooper instructed the Jewish girl, and Miss Crouch handed her the lock of hair. "You can even say a few words in the dream."

"Really!"

"Not many. I have to start and finish the charm in one breath. I will pause at one point and whatever you say then will be said by the you he sees in the dream."

Miss Honig nodded happily. Miss Cooper began the charm. She stopped part way through the spell and pointed to Deborah. "This is so wonderful. This will be a great charm. Thanks for—"

Sarah sighed in exasperation, "Don't talk to me. You are sending a message to Mr. Kerber. Talk as if you were speaking to him."

"Sorry. Can we start over?"

"Yes, but you need a new lock of hair. That one has a failed charm on it. Poppy?"

Miss Crouch cut off another lock of hair. Miss Cooper began the charm a second time. She pointed again to Deborah.

"Mr. Kerber," the Jewish witch began. "I want to thank you for the golem. It impressed everyone here. Rather than just put that into a letter my dear friend, Miss Cooper, told me of a—"

As Miss Honig continued speaking her dear friend, Miss Cooper, turned purple from holding her breath too long and gasped and began to breathe again. "I have to finish the charm on one breath, remember?"

"Oh, sorry."

"Poppy, we need another lock. Deb, you need to keep the message short or he will see you without hair."

The third time was, as the saying goes, the charm. Deborah put a brief greeting on the lock of hair and folded it up in a small square of parchment. The other things she wanted to say would go into a letter she would write when her two friends were not present to read over her shoulder.

* * *

Late Thursday evening Elizabeth and Robert paid their call on Sir William. The Divination professor had second sight in regard to weather. Elizabeth's last hope was that a terrific storm might require a delay of game. Unfortunately the forecast was for good weather, slightly cooler and more cloudy than the first game, but good weather nonetheless. It was the first time Elizabeth could regret such a prediction.

Saturday, the day of Slytherin's first quidditch match, dawned cool with high clouds – exactly as Sir William had predicted on Thursday evening.

Elizabeth's stomach desired nothing in the way of food, but she forced herself – knowing she would need the energy for the game.

The two captains met with Professor Turpin on the pitch at the start of the game, their teams standing in a line on opposite sides of the field. The Weird Sisters glared their hate at sandy-haired, freckled Mr. Andrews on the other side of the field. He seemed to miss the venom in the collective stare and smiled and waved cheerfully to them – incurring even deeper wrath.

Mr. Gutman stood by Turk, fidgeting with the new pair of dragon-hide gloves Elizabeth had presented to him and wishing he could be anywhere else in the world and dreading what was about to happen.

Robert seemed puzzled at the sight of the young German, "I thought Mr. Bulstrode was your junior beater."

"Mr. Bulstrode had a serious disagreement with the team captain over the direction in which the team should go."

Erin O'Shaughnessy stood in the shadow of her sister. Many of the spectators would be focus their attention exclusively on the Hufflepuff seeker. On the other side of the field Owl was a bundle of nervous excitement waiting for his first chance as seeker.

Within minutes of the start of the game Elizabeth realized this could well be the worst game of quidditch in which she had ever played. The Weird Sisters started poorly, but Elizabeth believed they would settle down quickly and begin to show what they were capable of.

Elizabeth was less pleased with her new seeker. He spent his time shouting encouragement and suggestions to the chasers. "Look for the snitch!" she bellowed when he flew near. That brought his focus back to his own role in the game, but only temporarily. She would need to keep her eyes on him throughout the game.

The real problem, of course, was in the beater position. Mr. Gutman tried his hardest, but he was a year from being ready to play on the house team. Miss O'Shaughnessy dominated the young wizard completely. The initial problems of the Weird Sisters, at least in part, could be attributed to the frequency in which they had to dodge the bludger that Miss O'Shaughnessy knocked in their direction.

Elizabeth discovered that the Twins had developed some new strategies to try against her, although she was certain that part of their success came from the fact the problems at the beater and seeker positions distracted her from her normal game. When Tall scored twice and Dark once it was the first time in two years that three consecutive drives had scored against Slytherin.

Twenty minutes into the game, to everyone's surprise, Robert maneuvered the bludger he and Turk guarded near the other beaters. "SWITCH!" he shouted, and exchanged places with Miss O'Shaughnessy.

A couple minutes of confusion followed the switch. Elizabeth felt an initial stab of resentment that Robin would take advantage of Slytherin's junior beater. As things began to sort themselves out, however, she felt ashamed of herself for imagining her cousin capable of such a thing. Robert was helping Kasper, giving him instruction in beating and encouraging the young wizard. Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears, it was so Hufflepuff – so Robin. She had never loved her cousin as much as she did at that moment. Thinking of his generosity and sense of fair play almost distracted from a run on the hoop by the Bishop, but she intercepted his drive and the quaffle went to Miss Cooper. Seconds later Miss Honig passed the quaffle to Miss Crouch who scored against Mr. Andrews.

Turk had greater skills than the Hufflepuff junior beater. Turk's skill lay more in defensive play than offensive. He could protect his own team well, but Elizabeth had to admit his ability to direct a bludger at opposing players had never been strong. Against Miss O'Shaughnessy, however, he twice managed attacks on Dark Thomas and once sent Bishop diving for his life. With the sound of Robert helping the Slytherin junior beater, however, and the Slytherin players enjoying safety from both bludgers Turk began to play less aggressively. He concentrated on defensive moves. For all intends and purposes the bludgers were removed from the game in terms of offensive play.

At the end of the first half hour Hufflepuff had been ahead fifty points to ten. It was one of the best scoring runs against Slytherin in years, and the sisters had been largely ineffectual because of their need to watch for bludgers coming at them.

In the next half hour the Sisters began to establish a rhythm in their play. They spent more time in possession of the quaffle now, which gave Elizabeth more time to study their moves. Miss Gray had adjusted to the Twins new plays and would not let them score again so easily, and Slytherin scored more points in the half hour, but was still behind with Hufflepuff having eighty points and Slytherin fifty.

With beating removed as a factor in the game the chasers and keepers became the focus. The Twins had the most experience of the chasers on the pitch that day, but they faced the best keeper at Hogwarts and she stopped most of their drives at the hoops. The Weirds were far away from their full potential, but already demonstrated raw talent and an uncanny ability to work with each other. The three had two other advantages as well, they faced a new and far less experienced keeper and they hated the young wizard between them and the Hufflepuff hoops. The Sisters had picked up some bruises early in the game from bludgers. The freckled wizard would find himself far more bruised by the end of the game from his efforts to stop the three on their scoring drives.

In the next half hour Slytherin managed to pull within ten points of Hufflepuff, trailing ninety point to one hundred. The Twins and Bishop worked harder in the face of Slytherin's scoring drives and managed to score thirty points in the next half hour, but Sisters had an even more successful half hour and at the end of the second hour of play Slytherin led one hundred-forty to one hundred-thirty.

Watching the Sisters grow in confidence as they stripped the quaffle from Hufflepuff chasers or found new ways to score against Mr. Andrews took too much of Owl's time. Elizabeth screamed her throat raw, "Look for the snitch!" when she caught him offering advice to the chasers or Mr. Gutman. Mr. Whisp knew quidditch, but he lacked focus on his particular part of the game. Elizabeth despaired of winning. Too many games were decided by the seeker, and at the moment it appeared Slytherin lacked a player in the position.

Slytherin's advantage grew over the next half hour and they led by forty points, but with the capture of the snitch counting one hundred and fifty points the lead meant nothing. In the latter half of the third hour the Bishop was obviously tiring. While the Sisters might have been tiring as well the joy they took in scoring against Mr. Andrews kept them aggressive and Slytherin led two hundred and fifty to one hundred-eighty.

As the fourth hour began Elizabeth began to think winning might be possible even without capturing the snitch. If the game lasted long enough it would not matter - at least if the Slytherin chasers kept up their pace and Robin didn't begin to take advantage of Mr. Gutman when he began to see his team fall behind. The three witches were Elizabeth's greater worry, she knew they must be tired. She had faith in her cousin's chivalry which did not allow her to think he would take advantage of the young German.

After three and a half hours Hufflepuff trailed two hundred and ten to three hundred. The skill of Slytherin's chasers and Elizabeth's experience had pulled the team to a commanding lead. They went ahead by one hundred points, then a hundred and ten.

Miss O'Shaughnessy, disgusted at the way her team was falling behind, turned her attention from the bludger for a moment to shout encouragement at the Hufflepuff chasers. The lack of focus left her dangerously out of position. As she turned back to face Turk she realized her own sister was completely vulnerable to the bludger she should have been guarding. Turk didn't need to lift a finger to send the bludger at the Hufflepuff seeker - it was moving in that direction and Erin was looking for the snitch and relying on the beaters to keep her safe. If the bludger struck the small girl with enough force to remove her from the game it guaranteed a Slytherin win.

But the panic Miss O'Shaughnessy felt was entirely for her sister's safety and had nothing to do with the game's outcome. She screamed a warning and tried desperately to maneuver into a position where she could intercept the bludger, knowing it was impossible – her own carelessness would hurt her sister.

Even as Miss O'Shaughnessy tried in vain to intercept the bludger Turk grunted an explosive, "Bloody hell!" and moved between the bludger and the Hufflepuff seeker - then batted the metal sphere safely back to Brigid

A second later Miss Crouch shoved the quaffle through a hoop and Slytherin took a hundred and twenty point lead. Tall Thomas took a run at the Slytherin hoops, but Elizabeth intercepted him once again. Miss Cooper scored again and Slytherin's lead went to one hundred and thirty.

The Bishop had the quaffle now and the Weirds swarmed around him, trying to strip it away. Elizabeth watched the drama in the middle of the pitch, waiting to see if Catholic wizard would be able to take a run at the hoops or not. She began to believe in a Slytherin win. If the chasers could score three more times she felt confident she could continue to keep the Hufflepuff goals low enough for her team to win.

Even as Elizabeth eyed the Bishop and dreamed of the win Erin O'Shaughnessy let out a whoop as she went into a dive and caught the snitch. The game was over. Hufflepuff had won.

Professor Turpin whistled the official end of the game and Robin and Turk caught the two bludgers and wrestled them to the ground. The Hufflepuff team gathered in a small group on the ground, as did the Slytherins.

Mr. Gutman was crying, "I can't play. I quit."

Elizabeth put an arm around him. "You can't quit. We need you. You need to keep practicing. You can do it."

While it was the custom for the losing captain to walk over to congratulate the winner Mr. Fletcher went to her cousin while she consoled the young beater.

"You were in good form today," Robert told his cousin. "I was really afraid you'd win."

"But we didn't," she observed glumly.

"Danke," was all the German managed to say to Mr. Fletcher.

"Congratulations," Owl called to Erin O'Shaughnessy.

Miss O'Shaughnessy felt a need to make a statement also. She walked the short distance between the teams, threw her arms around Turk and gave him a long kiss. "Thanks for protecting my sister."

Elizabeth had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. The shy Scot blushed crimson. It appeared as if he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him alive.

The thanks offered by Miss O'Shaughnessy broke any tension that remained at the end of the game. Even Mr. Gutman was able to giggle slightly at the sight. The two groups moved together. Erin O'Shaughness also congratulated Turk, but limited herself to a handshake. The Hufflepuff chasers congratulated the Slytherin chasers, then Mr. Andrews added his own comment, "You three were amazing!" he said in an awe-filled voice. "And this was your first game?"

"It was," Miss Crouch told him smugly.

"We never played quidditch."

"Before this year."

He shook his head in disbelief. "If this was your first game… You'll be impossible to stop. We need to start calling you the harpies. You're going to tear keepers apart with your play."

"The harpies," Miss Cooper said thoughtfully.

"I think."

"We like that," Miss Crouch finished - and actually smiled at Mr. Andrews.

There was more conversation, and to Turk's obvious discomfort Miss O'Shaughnessy remained by his side while the two teams chatted. Robin leaned over and whispered in Elizabeth's ear. "Our last time playing each other. If you loan me a few sickles I'll treat the rest of the Hufflepuff team when we go out, if you bring along your team and treat them. I think they really did very well for their first game."

_"Everyone but Owl,"_ Elizabeth thought. "You're right. It will be fun."

* * *

The white-tailed eagle disappeared from Britain and a number of other parts of Europe in the Twentieth Century, but is making a comeback.

I assume readers know conversion to Judaism requires circumcision.

The exchange of letters between single young men and women was not considered appropriate. Actually, it could be forgiven if they were engaged, although Miss Honig and Mr. Kerber are not engaged and haven't even been properly introduced yet. It must be remembered, however, that in all countries there is a gap between what society says is appropriate behavior and how individuals really live their lives.


	9. The More Things Change

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

I still have twenty one-shots with more hits than there have been for the first eight chapters of this story put together. Such is life.

**The More Things Change, the More They Change**

The Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams left Hogwarts on Monday afternoon to dine at The Three Brooms. The meal, in truth, was no better than they would have eaten at the school, but dining out with the members of the other team made the event special.

Mr. Gutman had attempted to quit the team two more times over the weekend, but Elizabeth had refused to accept his resignation. She invited Mr. Abbot as well. While he was not yet playing she wanted next year's keeper to feel a part of the team.

The four seventh year students sat together at one small table. Robin and Elizabeth did much of the talking, but Miss O'Shaughnessy contributed to the conversation. Mr. Lennox, as was his wont, said little. Elizabeth thought she detected Miss O'Shaughnessy staring at the tall Scot several times during the meal. She feared the large blonde woman regarded Mr. Lennox as simple-minded and wished that Turk would speak up to demonstrate the fact he could.

At another small table the third year students talked of their classes. Mr. Andrews continued to compliment the three on their skills as chasers, and declared he should not have been named the best student of their year – not when each of the three of them received more firsts than he. At one point giggles erupted from the Sisters at the third year table and Elizabeth looked over.

"Mr. Andrews does a very clever imitation of Professor Rookwood," Robin whispered to the two Slytherins. "I suspect he's presenting the skit where he discovers he has accidently transfigured his left foot into a pig."

It appeared to Miss Gray that the Weird Sisters might have made peace with Mr. Andrews. She hoped it would endure; everything she saw of Mr. Andrews in dueling club marked him as a polite and good-natured young man.

The rest of the players sat around one long table, with Erin O'Shaughnessy presiding. Mr. Abbot and Mr. Gutman sat quietly at the end and listened in awe as the short girl joked and laughed with the Twins, Owl, and the Bishop.

It was dark when the group emerged from The Three Brooms for the walk back to Hogwarts. Robin offered Elizabeth his arm. While Turk made no such offer to Miss O'Shaughnessy she took his arm anyway. A plethora of arms were offered to Erin O'Shaughnessy, who laughed and accepted both Dark and Tall as her escorts for the stroll. Mr. Andrews simply looked confused by the prospect of three young women with whom he had shared a meal and only possessing two arms. Miss Honig took Owl's arm, which allowed Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper to flank the red-haired wizard.

The conversation on their walk back to the school centered on next month's game between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The talk only increased Mr. Gutman's fears, but the young man resolved to do his best. Mr. Andrews maintained his position that the Sisters would score at will against the Gryffindor keeper. Owl remained silent, _"I will look for the snitch. I will look for the snitch,"_ he kept repeating to himself.

When Elizabeth went to her room after the teams returned to the school she discovered Miss Kelly refused to talk with her.

"You need to get rid of the boggart, Lizzy. It frightened Kitty very badly," Miss Cattermole explained.

"Why was she in my wardrobe?"

"She misplaced her astronomy book and wanted to look at yours," Vivien told her. "Neither Charlotte nor I are taking astronomy."

"You could have waited for my return," Elizabeth pointed out to Kitty.

"And you could kill the damn spider," Charlotte protested. (Her roommates referred to the boggart as spider. Soon after it had found lodgings in Miss Gray's wardrobe Kitty had not wanted to dress with the boggart in the room. Miss Gray had protested, "It has no more interest in watching you dress than a spider would.") "Honestly, Lizzy, you haven't studied the thing in more than a year."

"Do you know how long a boggart lives?" Elizabeth asked her roommates.

"No," Miss Cattermole admitted.

"Three minutes after I find it," Vivien muttered.

"See, I am trying to find out how long a boggart lives," Elizabeth answered smugly. She turned to Vivien, "And besides, it keeps you from borrowing my clothing without asking."

"I would hardly borrow your things without asking," Vivien protested.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "You wouldn't?"

"Of course not. You are much too tall. Nothing would fit."

The boggart enjoyed its success with Miss Kelly and when Elizabeth opened the wardrobe an immense hill troll threatened her with a club. Elizabeth found the book and tossed it to Kitty, "Catch!" then closed the wardrobe door on the disappointed boggart.

* * *

Elizabeth noticed nothing out of the ordinary when she came in to the Great Hall for breakfast on Tuesday morning. Munin fluttered down with words of sympathy from her father for Slytherin's loss. The bird grabbed a piece of bacon, "And will you kindly tell the house elves to stop over-cooking the bacon?"

"You aren't supposed to be eating here," she reminded the bird.

"There is probably some human here who does not enjoy eating charcoal either."

"Did my mother send any message?"

"No. But she appears to have taken the news that Hufflepuff won very well and is currently unable to offer condolences."

Never an early riser when it could be avoided, the Great Hall began to empty as Elizabeth finished eating. Someone had been waiting for the opportunity to speak to Miss Gray privately and with no one sitting close enough to hear a whispered conversation the lurker approached.

"Miss Gray?"

Elizabeth turned, "Miss O'Shaughnessy," she nodded.

"May I speak with you for a minute?"

"Certainly." Elizabeth gestured to a space on the bench beside her and the large woman sat down.

Brigid fidgeted for a minute, uncertain how to begin. "I am… curious about Mr. Lennox."

"I fear I can tell you but little."

The blonde woman smiled, as if Elizabeth's ignorance represented good news, "So, you and Mr Lennox…"

Elizabeth waited for the rest of the question, which did not appear to be forthcoming, "Pardon?"

"You are not interested in Mr. Lennox?"

Miss Gray found the line of questioning very curious. "He is my friend, even if he says little. Of course I am interested in him and his well-being."

"Romantically. Have you any romantic attachment to Mr. Lennox?"

Elizabeth found herself growing ever more confused. "No. I've never even held what I would call a decent conversation with Turk."

"You do not believe he entertains any romantic feeling towards you?"

"These are very personal questions, and you are asking me what he thinks."

"I found him very handsome… I was simply wondering if he had someone to whom he felt a romantic attachment."

Elizabeth would not have applied the word handsome to Slytherin's senior beater. Turk possessed a pair of arresting blue eyes, but his dark hair was an unruly thatch on the top of his head and his craggy features would be, at best, termed rugged - and then only by someone in a charitable mood. "I've not heard of anyone with whom Turk has a romantic attachment… I've never sought an answer to the question… You are interested in Mr. Lennox?"

"I… I am not certain. He was kind to my sister. I found him very gentle in his conversation last night."

"He hardly said anything!"

"He listened wonderfully!"

Elizabeth sighed, "I will apply to Mr. Philpott for news of any romantic entanglements on the part of Mr. Lennox. I should warn you, however, that I find him terribly shy."

Miss O'Shaughnessy looked thoughtful. "I don't think I can remember seeing him at any balls."

"He has scarce been to three since he began at Hogwarts."

"Perhaps there is someone he is interested in elsewhere."

"And perhaps he is afraid to dance."

"Do you think you could bring him to Hufflepuff on Thursday evening for our house dance?"

"I think my chances of bringing him to Hufflepuff while people are waltzing are inferior to finding a spell which will allow him to sprout wings and fly."

"Oh." Miss O'Shaughnessy sounded so disappointed Elizabeth felt compelled to offer encouragement.

"I can urge him to ask for a dance from each of our chasers at the next ball, perhaps that will bring him there."

"Would you, please?"

"Even if he comes to the ball it does not insure he will ask you for a dance."

"That is true… I simply want the opportunity to know him better. I will be quite satisfied simply to talk with him."

_"If you can manage that you will have done something I've never managed."_ "I'll do my best. If I can persuade him to attend you might come over to talk with me at some point, and I will casually suggest he ask you for a dance."

"That would be wonderful."

* * *

Miss Gray mulled the conversation with Miss O'Shaughnessy over in her mind as she returned to Slytherin. The sight of a small figure, hanging from a sconce near the Slytherin door drew her attention. Owl had been hoisted up, and the back of his robe hooked over the bracket used to hold torches. The feet of the small wizard dangled some two feet off the floor.

"I say; could you get me down from here?" Owl asked cheerfully.

"Who put you up there?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not. I'm simply curious."

Elizabeth put her hands under Owl's arms and lifted him up, off the sconce. He offered a, "Thank you," as she set him on the floor.

"Now, who put you up there? I don't like my team members suffering abuse at anyone's hands other than my own."

"Augie put me up there."

"Mr Bulstrode?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth wondered at the answer, "I thought you were friends with Mr. Bulstrode." Indeed, the rumor was that only the Owl's sharp wits and the help he secretly offered kept Mr. Bulstrode from failing in many classes.

"We are."

"Dare I ask what happened?"

"He said I did a wretched job as seeker."

"It is not for him to criticize, he isn't even on the team."

"I think he wants to be."

"Then he should not have left."

"Five knuts says he will ask for reinstatement."

"I will see him in hell first."

Owl took on a serious tone, "Miss Gray, Augie made a mistake. You should not compound it by making another."

"I will consider receiving him back on the team, if he asks, and depending on how he words his request."

* * *

Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper both chaffed at the pace of Elizabeth's lessons for the dueling club beginners. The two had mastered disarming and stunning spells the evening Miss Gray introduced them. They had probably mastered those, and some other spells and curses before dueling club even began. But not all the students learned as quickly as the two and Miss Gray wanted to move the group forward at the same pace and refused to pass them on to the open club meeting until she tested all the new students at the end of the autumn quarter. She used the two often to demonstrate techniques to the other students, further drilling the basics into them.

* * *

As Owl had predicted, when the team arrived for their next practice session Mr. Bulstrode stood waiting for them on the pitch.

Elizabeth would not deign to address him.

"I want to play," he stated.

"You left. I don't want a quitter on the Slytherin team."

"You need me."

"I don't need you. You insulted me. You insulted one of our chasers. You insulted our seeker. You insulted our entire team. We received more support from the team we played than from you - it is you who are a disgrace to Slytherin."

He flushed with anger, but could not deny the accusation. "I was wrong. I admit it. I want to play."

"Will you apologize to everyone you insulted?"

_ "Everyone?"_

"Everyone."

Mr. Bulstrode took a deep breath. Although he had done a great many things in his life for which he needed forgiveness he had very little practice asking for it. He turned first to the fourth year wizard, "Owl… Sorry for hanging you up the other day."

Owl laughed, "I didn't do a great job. But I want you back on the team."

Augustus turned back to Elizabeth. "You are the captain. It was wrong of me to question your judgment."

Elizabeth nodded her head almost imperceptibly, acknowledging his words but not indicating if she accepted the apology.

He turned back towards the team, "I was wrong, I want to play."

The other members of the team were not certain how to respond, but Mr. Gutman spoke up, "I'd be happy to have you back."

Augustus turned back to Miss Gray and smiled, "I apologized. Am I back on the team."

"You have not apologized to Miss Cooper."

The large wizard stood silent, inwardly struggling on whether or not he could address an apology to the third year who did not belong in Slytherin. During his internal debate the three witches whispered among themselves. Miss Crouch spoke up, "Miss Cooper will accept the apology to the team as an apology to herself. The three of us like Mr. Gutman very much as a person."

Miss Honig finished, "And we harbor no such sentiment towards Mr. Bulstrode. But we don't think Slytherin should trust Gryffindor to be as noble as Hufflepuff. We think you should accept him back on the team."

Elizabeth would have preferred to reject Mr. Bulstrode's application to be reinstated, but she wanted Slytherin to win the quidditch cup and knew the team had a better chance with Augustus as beater. "Get on your broom," were the only words she addressed to him.

* * *

The greater care exercised by students, staff, and faculty in regard to the boggle made anyone who said something too out of the ordinary suspect. The school enjoyed a fortnight without any evidence of the creature and some began to hope it had moved back to some nameless marsh. But without an 'attack' students grew careless, and the boggle grew more careful in making its misdirection sound reasonable.

Professor Wood arrived at the observatory for a class with second year students and waited for their arrival. And waited. And waited. When questioned the next day several of the students asserted that Professor Wood had informed them that Sir William's prediction of an overcast sky meant the cancellation of class that evening. The real professor Wood informed them that in the event of an overcast sky they would study star charts and that class would not be cancelled. He then assigned them a short report on the planet Jupiter for their eagerness to listen to the boggle and failing to investigate further.

Mr. Towler and Mr. Goyle of Ravenclaw attempted to use the boggle excuse to avoid history class. When Professor Quirrell questioned them about their absence they claimed he had told them class had been cancelled for a week because he felt ill. Each backed up the other's account. They said they had been together when the professor approached them with the news. The professor sent them to two different rooms and, in turn, asked each the same question. "Exactly where were you in Hogwarts when I supposedly told you of class being cancelled? And tell me the precise time of my supposed communication."

The two were assigned to write lengthy reports on the history of flying carpets.

* * *

In the first week of December Munin brought word that Mr. and Mrs. Gray had returned to their London home. Elizabeth and her brothers knew they were supposed to spend the break between autumn and winter terms in the city, but the news made the anticipation of being with family for Christmas all the sweeter. Despite being at Hogwarts together seventh year Slytherin, Elizabeth, had scarcely seen her first year Gryffindor brother, Basil. She assumed it meant he had adjusted well and didn't suffer the pangs of homesickness which had marked her first year.

The raven brought other news, at a price. "I have information that is worth a sickle to you."

"Have you observed the Gryffindor team? Do you have news that will help the Slytherin team?"

"I don't care who wins or loses at children's games. This is information for you."

"Quidditch is not a children's game!"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes. I shall give you the sickle when I am in London."

The bird nodded. "I've listened to your parents talk. You will be graduating in the spring, and they often discuss your future."

"How can they discuss my future when I don't even know it?"

"They express their hopes for you. They think you are old enough to settle down and they discuss potential matches for you."

"I am not surprised, nor am I certain that is worth a sickle. My parents love me and would not force me into a marriage I did not want."

"Your parents love you, and think you are as concerned about your life partner as they are concerned for you. I believe your mother still hopes you will accept the love of your cousin Robert."

"Robin and I have no romantic interest in each other. He is more of a brother to me than Weasel."

"I have no interest in how you humans pair off and mate. I simply relate the discussions I've overheard. She hopes your cousin has interest in you."

"Wonderful," Elizabeth muttered.

"But in the event there is no such interest, both your mother and father have young men they believe can make you happy. I should be very careful, were I you, about displaying a preference to any young man they thrust at you during term break."

_"It is always worthwhile to be forewarned."_ Elizabeth reflected, and decided Munin deserved his sickle. "Have they discussed any other plans for my future?"

"Your mother suggests you might be interested in a grand tour. Her sister-in-law has a cousin who might travel with you as chaperone."

"I wonder if they might invite Miss Kestrel to accompany—"

"I would doubt that. But if you wish to propose that notion you need to design an argument which will persuade."

Elizabeth almost regretted Munin's news. Her break could no longer be carefree, but perhaps she needed to think more seriously of her own future.

* * *

"Can I borrow a pen?" Edward William asked Mr. Wells as the fifth year sat at a table in the Ravenclaw common room, scratching out a history essay.

"Don't you have your own?" JW snapped, angry at being interrupted in his work.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry," Edward smiled, waving a pasteboard square in the older student's face, "Miss Fowler is letting me pick the dances I want for the next ball."

"Let me see that," Mr. Wells demanded, snatching the card from Weasel's hand. It was a pristine dance card, not a name written on it.

"Give that back!" Weasel demanded.

"In a minute," the older student smirked – writing in his name for the first dance.

"I'm supposed to have the first dance!" Weasel protested, "Give it here!"

"I told you, in a minute," Mr. Wells said – filling in his name for the last dance.

"First and last! You can't have both first and last! That's not fair!" Weasel protested, making a weak effort to take the card from the older and larger Mr. Wells.

"And one in the middle," JW reminded him, writing his name in for a third dance.

"You shouldn't have done that," Weasel told him sullenly when JW handed the card back.

"I taught you a valuable lesson," Mr. Wells told him grandly, "never boast in the face of a wizard who is older and more experienced than yourself." He smiled smugly as Weasel turned and stomped away.

* * *

Mr. Philpott confirmed Miss Gray's suspicion, "Turk? Not a witch in the world he cares for."

"Um, you mentioned that you, uh, could be discrete in your relationships. Is there any chance that…"

"Turk and I? The man who would need to cheer up to reach the level of dour and _moi_? Mind you, I'd give him a tumble in the hay if he asked… But Lizzy, why are you asking? Seventh year and without romantic prospects of your own? Don't tell me your bosom heaves as you dream of his muscular arms enfolding you..." Peter sighed, "My bosom would heave at the thought, but, alas, he has no interest. So, when did you decide he looked yummy?"

She sighed at his vivid imagination, "Rhetorical flourishes aside, your answer is no."

"Rhetorical flourishes aside my answer was no, followed by the question of why you were interested."

"I am asking for a friend."

"May I ask her name?"

"You may ask, I may choose not to answer."

"I will keep my eyes on Mr. Lennox in case that news pleases your mysterious friend."

Since Mr. Lennox appeared to have no girl waiting for him at home Elizabeth cajoled Turk into asking each of the chasers for a dance, "Please, we need to thank them for how well they performed in the game."

The tall Scot looked terribly ill-at-ease. "Dancing with me is more of a punishment," he mumbled.

In case Turk needed additional prodding Elizabeth accompanied Mr. Lennox when he asked the Sisters for dances. All three witches had their dance cards largely filled, and to Elizabeth's surprise Mr. Andrews appeared twice on each of the three cards.

"Well, he is cute," Miss Cooper pointed out.

"And he admits we are his superiors in all classes."

"But he still has taken the honor as best student in your class," Elizabeth reminded them.

Miss Honig came to the wizard's defense. "That is not his fault."

"It must be very hard to always be in second place," Miss Crouch added.

"And he can carry on an intelligent conversation," Sarah finished. "How many wizards—"

"Do you know that—"

"Can have that said about them?"

* * *

The monthly ball was held three nights later. As students waited for the music for the first dance at the monthly ball Mr. Wells approached Miss Fowler, who stood talking with Edward William. JW smiled, "I believe I have the first dance."

Miss Fowler's brow furrowed, "You never asked for a dance at this ball." She held up her dance card, to show him that his name did not appear. Edward William's name occupied the first line of the card.

"But—" he began to protest, then stopped to glare at his rival.

Edward William smiled innocently, "It is a shame you did not ask her for a dance earlier."

Mr. Wells had not noticed, but Miss Kestrel had crossed the floor toward them as he spoke with Rose and Weasel. "Mr. Wells," Vivien greeted him warmly, "I was flattered that you asked for three dances. I do not normally accept so many requests."

"But—" he tried to begin again.

Miss Kestrel held up her card for him to see. He recognized his handwriting. He paused, looking for a word sufficiently blasphemous to convey his feelings. Before he could find his word, however, the musicians began to play and Vivien took his arm and maneuvered him away from Rose and Weasel, who made their own way to the dance floor. Weasel smiled and winked at Vivien, who smiled and nodded in return.

Elizabeth anticipated fewer offers to dance at this ball. She planned to stay by Turk in order to keep him from bolting the room, and feared the presence of the large man beside her would dissuade potential dance partners. Mr. Philpott asked for Miss Gray for a dance while Mr. Lennox danced with Miss Crouch, the last of three Sisters.

"I don't believe it is one of the third years," Peter objected.

"Pardon?"

"The mysterious woman with the interest in Mr. Lennox."

"Someone asked a question, I asked you for the answer. Why do you insist there is more to the story?"

"Because you told me so little. Had you informed me that 'Miss Smythe of Halfwit House asked if a block of wood like Mr. Lennox had a fiancée,' I might have thought nothing of it. The fact you concealed the name means there is more to the story. And I've not ruled out you as the source of the interest."

"You are utterly impossible."

"Thank you. And, do you notice that Mr. Wells is dancing with Miss Kestrel a second time?"

"I saw. He also has the last dance with her."

"Very curious. The handicappers may need to change the odds for your brother in the Fowler sweepstakes if Mr. Wells scratches from the race."

"I do not believe, at present, that Mr. Wells has left the pursuit of Miss Fowler. You might ask Vivien about that tomorrow."

"Oh, I shall."

Elizabeth stood with the Turk to one side of the room during the next dance. Mr. Philpott refused to leave. Miss O'Shaughnessy stood to the side of the room also, trying to work up her own courage and wishing that Mr. Philpott would depart. Finally, fearing Mr. Lennox might escape if she did not approach him soon she walked over to the trio with a casual question, "Miss Gray? Do you remember if I was wearing my blue shawl when we went to dinner at The Three Brooms? I can't locate it."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, "I don't recall. Turk? Do you remember if Miss O'Shaughnessy wore a blue shawl?"

He shook his head no.

Elizabeth steered the conversation towards the last quidditch game and the dinner afterwards. She felt the conversation seemed entirely innocent and spontaneous, and no one (and by no one she meant Mr. Philpott) could read anything in to her nudging Mr. Lennox and whispering, "You might ask her to dance." Elizabeth smiled to herself as the two went onto the dance floor, Peter didn't suspect a thing.

_"Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy,"_ Mr. Philpott thought sadly, _"I hope you didn't think that was sly."_ He wondered if he should warn Mr. Lennox of the plot against him, but decided the Scot must learn of the dark forces gathered against him on his own.

* * *

Elizabeth frowned as she watched the last practice before the team played Gryffindor. The Sisters continued to grow in their skills and Miss Gray congratulated herself for recruiting them. Owl still tended to watch the other elements of the game more than he looked for the snitch. The greater problem lay in the fact Mr. Bulstrode continued to disappoint in practice. He had apologized for his behavior, but not learned true humility or admitted the possibility he could improve as a beater.

Augustus still imagined that beating only required strength and made no effort to study the other skills necessary to play well - distaining them as tricks for the weak. Mr. Gutman had visibly improved as a beater through his willingness to learn more. Miss Gray almost considered asking Mr. Gutman to start again as junior beater, but decided against it. _"He may be our junior in the last game,"_ she thought to herself.

* * *

The sons of the upper classes often took the Grand Tour after finishing their Oxbridge educations. Since women were not allowed at universities they went less often. The Grand Tour might today be called 'bumming around the continent' for a couple years. It allowed you to practice the modern languages you were supposed to have learned, maybe buy a great old painting or two to ship home and demonstrate you had culture, and, most importantly, make or renew personal connections. (Carrying letters of recommendation was a must.) An older man usually accompanied the younger man to offer advice on what to see and do. The young women who traveled more likely went in at least pairs with an older woman to protect them from evil influences (and rat on them to their parents should they stray from the straight and narrow).


	10. Game 3: Slytherin vs Gryffindor

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Hogwarts. There are places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere. If you think there're too many subplots... You're right.

** Game 3: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor**

Vivien continued to complain about neglect for days after the ball. "Mr. Wells must suffer from some form of insanity! He spent his time talking of Miss Fowler."

Elizabeth, Charlotte, and Kitty had heard the complaint often enough since the end of the ball that they simply ignored it. Vivien, however, needed no encouragement in order to continue. "There is no comparison between the two of us. She is such a drab little thing."

"My brother says she is witty and a wonderful conversationalist," Elizabeth said.

"Men are not interested in women for their minds," Miss Kestrel asserted.

"At least he has an interest in women," Miss Kelly pointed out. "Mr. Malfoy seems interested in nothing but drink, dueling and whist."

Vivien flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, "I am not certain which is more insulting, to be ignored by a man who would rather drink or a man interested in a plain woman."

"There are advantages to arranged marriages," Miss Cattermole reminded the others.

Vivien almost said something about the appearance of Charlotte's cousin James, or the other witch's own long face, but decided the fight might detract from her own bid for sympathy. "That is fine, if you have a cousin and want to keep property in the family. I have no relatives looking to marry off a son, and my mother can't afford enough dowry to make me attractive to a man of substance."

"Marriage should be for love," Catherine scolded. "Love is all that matters."

"It is as easy to love a rich man as a poor one," Vivien shot back. "Lizzy?"

Miss Gray hesitated. "I should not comment. I'll have a respectable dowry. I agree with Kitty that love should be important, but I agree with Vivien also. I don't think I would endure poverty in the name of love."

Miss Kelly, who truly had no interest in a life of poverty herself, changed the conversation by complaining that there should be an end of term ball.

* * *

Elizabeth began testing students at dueling club on the Wednesday evening prior to the quidditch game. There were enough students, and her examination sufficiently rigorous, that at least two weeks would be required. Those who volunteered to demonstrate their abilities the first week all performed well, as Elizabeth had expected. She felt some anxiety towards a handful of students who did not volunteer.

At nine on Thursday evening Miss Gray met with Mr. Potter for the ritual of asking Sir William for the weather forecast. As they walked down the hallway Mr. Potter suggested, "A small wager on the outcome of the game?"

Since captains frequently bet small amounts she responded, "How many sickles?"

"I spoke with your cousin Robert. He said the two of you usually wager a meal. Losing captain buys a dinner for the winning captain at some point over Christmas break?"

Elizabeth hesitated, wondering what sort of trap Mr. Potter planned. She enjoyed spending time with Robin, and spending more time with Charles Potter sounded thoroughly unpleasant. He probably imagined that Gryffindor would win, and would demand she take him to the most expensive restaurant in London. "Robin and I allow the losing captain to choose the place to eat."

He hesitated slightly, which confirmed Elizabeth's suspicion, then replied, "I accept that condition."

Miss Gray planned to win, but win or lose she would dress so well that, wherever they went, he would be humiliated by how shabby he looked in comparison to her finery. She nodded curtly, "I accept the wager."

"The morning will dawn clear," Sir William told them, "but it will be very cool, uncomfortably so. You need to apply to me later when I know how much the day will warm up."

The two thanked him for his prediction and returned to their houses.

The Saturday of the game between Slytherin and Gryffindor dawned unusually crisp, but a bright sun and Sir William both promised warmer temperatures later in the day.

The Slytherin team ate breakfast as a group. The Owl seemed nervous, and did little but drink coffee.

"Bad idea," Augie warned him as the thuggish beater responded to his own case of nerves by eating everything within reach. "You'll need to piss during the game."

The Weirds picked at their food and whispered among themselves.

Turk ate his normal breakfast. Elizabeth tried to eat a normal breakfast – but spent much of her time trying to encourage the others and assure them that Gryffindor could be beaten. Indeed, few things could give Elizabeth the same pleasure as the prospect of a defeat of Gryffindor. The first four years she played on the team she faced Gryffindor teams with overwhelming skills. Gryffindor humiliated any team which took to the air against them. Today represented Elizabeth's last chance to repay Gryffindor for those losses. She didn't have a clear sense of what the other team might be capable of; Ravenclaw had beaten them so quickly that she had been unable to assess either team well. But Elizabeth took it as a good omen for Slytherin, Gryffindor could be beaten and her team would manage it also.

When the Slytherin team arrived at the pitch they found Hufflepuff already there, with all of them wearing Slytherin colors as a show of support. When Mr. Andrews waved at the Sisters Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper both smiled broadly and returned the wave enthusiastically.

Although her heart was not in the act, Elizabeth had purchased a pair of dragon hide gloves for Mr. Bulstrode to wear as a Slytherin beater. She presented them, then moved to mid-pitch to confer with Mr. Potter and Professor Turpin.

As the team prepared themselves to take to the air Slytherin's junior beater suddenly screamed.

"Did that hurt?" Miss Crouch, who had stood beside him, asked innocently.

It had hurt tremendously. It felt like two large snakes had sunk their fangs deep in his buttocks, one on each side. "No," he lied quickly, "it merely surprised me. What in the hell did you do?"

"No pain? A pity. It will keep you from falling off your broom."

He said nothing.

"Oh, and Mr. Bulstrode?"

"Yes?"

"Should anything happen to Miss Cooper that you could have prevented. Should anything happen to Miss Cooper during the game at your hand, the charm to remove the broom from your backside will be lost – and great bloody chunks will be torn from your hide when you try to dismount from your broom. Is that clear?"

"Painfully so," he grunted.

There was no time for further conversation as professor Turpin gave the signal and the players rose into the air to the cheers of the spectators. Mr. Bulstrode faced a fifth year witch, Faith Osgood, in the junior position when Miss Turpin released the bludgers into the air. Until the professor whistled the official start of the game the beaters simply batted the bludgers back and forth in an easy manner to each other, at the blast of the whistle, however, play began in earnest.

The Slytherin chasers made their presence known immediately. Fourth year Lucretia Hagrid almost had her hands on the quaffle at the toss, when Miss Crouch went into a dive and snatched it from her. Miss Hagrid's fifth year brother, Germanicus, maneuvered toward Poppy in hopes of stealing the quaffle. Before he could intercept the blonde witch, however, Miss Honig had taken the leather ball from her teammate and headed for the hoops. Sixth year Mr. Archer had no idea what was happening as Alfred Longbottom moved to guard the Gryffindor hoops. 'Alfie' Longbottom had a year of keeper experience which Mr. Andrews of Hufflepuff lacked and felt confident in his ability to stop Miss Honig. And had Miss Honig kept possession of the quaffle he might have kept the Jewish witch from scoring, but a blind lateral to Miss Cooper, who was exactly where the trio had planned, left him at the wrong hoop when the brown-haired witch scored the first points of the game.

Elizabeth smiled from her position in front of the Slytherin hoops, she took the opening score, and in the first fifteen seconds, as a very good omen.

The Sisters scored two more times on three scoring drives, and Gryffindor once in four drives when Mr. Bulstrode found a fortunate opening. He savagely slammed the bludger he guarded and it traveled nearly a third of the field, hitting Miss Hagrid squarely in the side and knocking her off her broom. The fourth year witch managed to keep from falling, but only barely.

Mr. Potter signaled a timeout. Turk caught one bludger, and Mr. Potter managed to capture the other before it did more damage.

"I want someone to examine Mr. Bulstrode's club," Mr. Potter shouted to professor Turpin. "It has been enchanted in some illegal manner."

"No it hasn't," Miss Gray shouted from her position.

"It was an unusual hit," Professor Turpin admitted. "Elizabeth? Professor Ogden will examine your junior's club. Seekers, leave the air. Face each other."

Wolf and Owl landed a few feet apart and Professor Ogden came to the field, pulling a variety of spectacles from pockets.

Augustus landed and offered his club for the examination by the charms instructor. It seemed curious to the bystanders why Augustus remained on his broom during the examination. Elizabeth landed to stand beside her beater, while Mr. Potter gave the bludger he tended to Miss Osgood and landed to hear the result of his accusation.

"Ummm, seems to be something here besides the normal charm to keep the bat from breaking," Professor Ogden muttered, and switched spectacles.

Mr. Potter said nothing, but looked scornfully at Elizabeth and the Slytherin junior beater.

"Yes, yes…" The charms professor looked up. "Good show. Slytherin is to be commended. I will awards points for this."

Elizabeth had no idea what professor Ogden was talking about, and Mr. Potter simply looked shocked.

"What's your verdict, Isaiah?" Professor Turpin asked.

"It has been charmed so he can not strike another player, Laurel. Some of us have demanded the charm be mandatory in all games. I congratulate Slytherin for their sportsmanship."

Elizabeth beamed and bowed to the professor, "Thank you. Slytherin would never undermine the honor of the game." She strongly suspected that the charm had nothing to do with the honor of the game, and that it had not been placed on the club to keep Mr. Bulstrode from harming a Gryffindor player. But she did not feel like sharing her team's internal struggles with the faculty.

As the teams prepared to resume the game Miss Osgood requested, "Can we switch?" She attributed more skill and less luck to Mr. Bulstrode's amazing hit than it actually deserved. Mr. Potter, uncertain about what had just occurred, shook his head in agreement.

Owl demonstrated his earlier problem with focus, but Miss Gray understood his difficulty. The Gryffindor seeker flew like nothing Elizabeth had seen before. As much as she could she watched him when the Slytherin chasers controlled the quaffle. The black man showed no fear, moving in ways Miss Gray had never observed on anyone riding a broom before. She began to understand Owl's assertion that Mr. Jones deserved more credit for his hunting skills than most observers gave him.

"Watch for the snitch!" she shouted at her own seeker.

The time out to check for a foul slowed the start of the game, Slytherin led forty to ten at the end of the first half hour, and Elizabeth felt that had the game not been delayed the lead would have been much wider.

Mr. Potter played cautiously against Mr. Bulstrode, fearing the massive fourth year had another trick or two to unleash on Gryffindor.

Turk came alive against Gryffindor's junior beater. Some might have attributed his behavior to anger at the slight of facing the Gryffindor junior. Elizabeth gave him credit for a nobler motive behind his actions, Mr. Lennox realized that Mr. Bulstrode possessed average skills at best. When Mr. Potter became aware of just how weak Augustus was it would mean problems for Slytherin, so Turk did his best to delay the moment of truth. A slim witch, Miss Osgood lacked the muscle to be a strong beater and relied on skill to accomplish the job. Against Turk, a senior beater with both skill and muscle, Faith found herself unable to defend her teammates properly. Mr. Archer suffered two minor blows from the metal sphere, and Mr. Jones once only eluded the bludger with a spectacular dive which brought even Elizabeth's heart to her throat with the fear that the black seeker would be killed. Instead the Gryffindor seeker pulled out of the dive in a manner no one watching believed possible and actually laughed at his brush with injury.

With Mr. Potter cautiously gauging Mr. Bulstrode's strength and Turk disrupting Gryffindor's play the Sisters tore at Alfie Longbottom, at the end of the first hour Slytherin had taken a commanding lead of one hundred and twenty to forty.

At first Mr. Potter had thought Mr. Bulstrode played poorly to trick him into some sort of error that Augustus could exploit to Slytherin's advantage. After playing defensively against him for half an hour, however, he began to hold the fourth year's ability in contempt. Now Slytherin players too had to watch for bludgers driven at them as well as hoping to continue their own roles in the game. Both Miss Honig and Miss Crouch suffered minor blows from the metal spheres and a well aimed smash of Mr. Potter's club against the bludger drove Elizabeth from her post and allowed Miss Hagrid to score. Turk redoubled his own efforts, however, with Mr. Archer suffering more damage and a fairly solid blow to Mr. Hagrid. The Slytherin ability to score goals slowed considerably as the game became more dangerous, and the margin remained the same between the two teams, with Slytherin at one hundred and fifty points and Gryffindor at seventy.

While the dangerous game proved entertaining for the spectators neither team wanted injury to their players.

"Move closer, we need to switch," Mr. Potter shouted at Mr. Lennox.

"I can't play him," Miss Osgood called, still giving Augustus more credit than he deserved.

"Yes you can," Charles shouted back. "That was a lucky shot. He has no skills – you are better."

Mr. Bulstrode, who had seen facing the Gryffindor senior as his right, recognized the insult. He went after the bludger even harder – and left an opening that allowed Mr. Potter to sent the bludger hurtling at Miss Cooper.

Mr. Potter called, "Switch," as Mr. Bulstrode went after the bludger. The Gryffindor senior took his place opposite Mr. Lennox as Miss Osgood returned to face Mr. Bulstrode.

"Watch for the snitch!" Elizabeth screamed at Owl. Her own position, as keeper, allowed her to watch while the Slytherin chasers held the quaffle, and there was much to see. The Sisters returned to a scoring rampage as greater safety returned to the game. Mr. Jones… Sometimes she wondered if his moves were designed merely for show and other times she felt certain that he hunted the snitch with greater skill than she had ever observed in a seeker.

Augustus grew increasingly frustrated as he faced Miss Osgood. He had at least a hundred and sixty pounds on the fifth year witch and could probably have picked her up and tossed her thirty feet, but he could not outplay her. Augustus relied only on his strength. The much weaker Faith developed her skills in beating, and strength alone could not prevail against skill and cunning. In addition, Miss Osgood had heard the verdict of the charms professor – Mr. Bulstrode could not strike her with his club. As she gained confidence in her own abilities _vis-à-vis_ the Slytherin beater she began to crowd him, moving in close to hamper his ability to swing his bat – taking advantage of the charm which had been intended to protect Miss Cooper. No one could remember seeing two beaters play so tightly, and Augustus felt like his hands were tied. At the end of the second hour the Sisters had moved Slytherin further ahead, and Gryffindor trailed one hundred points to two hundred and ten.

"Call time out," Miss Crouch shouted to Elizabeth.

After Miss Turpin whistled a halt in play and the two seekers returned to face each other on the ground Miss Crouch told Augustus to land and hand him his club. She made a show of removing the charm which kept him from striking another player with the bat as a warning to Miss Osgood.

"If she plays you that close again," Poppy said, handing the club back to Mr. Bulstrode, "knock her teeth down her throat."

A wide grin split the ugly wizard's face and he nodded in agreement.

Miss Osgood returned to a safer style of defense as play resumed. Augustus, who had blamed his poor showing entirely on the charm, found that she still outplayed him. Miss Gray took a perverse delight in watching the large wizard's frustration, rationalizing that it should prove good for her junior beater. He needed a lesson in humility and performing poorly against a girl less than half his size was the perfect demonstration that strength alone did not make a good beater.

The gap continued to widen, after two and a half hours of play Slytherin led two hundred and seventy to one hundred and thirty.

Elizabeth wasn't certain how she should feel. It looked like Slytherin would pull into a lead where the capture of the snitch could not win the game, yet when she had felt that way in the game against Hufflepuff Erin O'Shaughnessy had almost immediately captured the snitch and won the game for the other team. Miss Gray worried that hope would bring bad luck down on the heads of her team.

Gryffindor scored again, and then Slytherin scored twice. Her team led by a hundred and fifty points, and Elizabeth resolved to redouble her efforts to stop Gryffindor's chasers.

Alfie stopped Deborah's effort to score, but Elizabeth proved to be a solid wall when Miss Hagrid tried to score on Slytherin.

Miss Honig had the quaffle again and was flying at the hoops as she had on the first scoring drive of the game. Miss Cooper flew up beside her once again. Alfie refused to be tricked as he had been in the opening seconds of the game. He moved to intercept Miss Cooper when Miss Honig passed the quaffle. Only this time Miss Honig did not pass the quaffle and stuffed it through a hoop he had left unguarded in his effort to stop Sarah's scoring threat.

Elizabeth was all smiles at the other end of the pitch, Slytherin would win the game. She would not allow the Gryffidor chasers to outplay the Sisters. "Look for the snitch!" she screamed again at Owl.

Slytherin's lead began to open even further, a hundred of seventy points, then a hundred and eighty.

Owl flew near Elizabeth as Miss Crouch failed to score against Gryffindor, "Mr. Jones changed how he's flying."

"Stop watching Mr. Jones and look for the snitch."

"Something's wrong. I don't know what, but something is wrong."

Elizabeth could not focus on Owl's fears as she needed to stop Mr. Archer from scoring.

Miss Cooper scored, and Gryffindor's seeker signaled Mr. Potter to call a timeout.

Mr. Jones landed on the field to talk with Mr. Potter. Professor Turpin ordered Owl to the ground as well to insure the Slytherin seeker did not take advantage of the time out and Elizabeth went to the ground to confer with her seeker. The two Slytherins were not close enough to hear the very animated conversation between the Gryffindor team captain and the black seeker, but Mr. Potter appeared angry. After a minute he waved for Professor Turpin to join them.

Professor Turpin's discussion with the two wizards showed equal animation and she turned and called for Elizabeth to join them.

As the spectators wondered when the game would resume Laurel Turpin told Elizabeth, "The game is over. Slytherin has won."

"But the snitch—"

"Was captured several minutes ago by Mr. Jones."

"But—"

An unhappy Mr. Potter made the explanation, "Wolf is new to quidditch. His people value the use of cunning to win. Slytherin was ahead by one hundred and sixty points when he captured the snitch. He hoped to hide the fact of the capture to let Gryffindor's chasers score and allow a win… That did not happen."

"I will allow Slytherin's final three goals. Your team wins by forty points, Miss Gray."

Professor Turpin signaled the end of the game, to the amazement of both players and spectators. As Turk and Augustus captured the bludgers Professor Turpin presented a Bowdlerized version of the events to the spectators. "Mr. Jones captured the snitch. He did not signal the capture and requested a conference with Mr. Potter to know what he should do. Slytherin won the game."

The watchers indulged in a confused babble of conversation at the unusual end of the game. The Slytherin players uncertain about how the game had ended, but grateful for the victory, began to land. Turk and Miss Osgood, to whom Mr. Bulstrode had given the metal sphere, brought the two bludgers down – the Gryffindor struggling hard against the heavy sphere's movements.

The Sisters landed and dismounted from their brooms, a luxury not possible for Mr. Bulstrode who landed beside them.

"Will you remove this damn charm?"

Miss Crouch looked over at Miss Cooper, "He allowed Mr. Potter an attack on you."

"He allowed attacks on everyone," Miss Honig pointed out.

"He performed poorly in general," Miss Cooper echoed.

"You have to take this—"

"No, you have to stand there with a broom on your backside while we talk," Poppy hissed.

"We'll decide on a course of action, based on your performance."

"And we were not impressed."

In a moment of rare insight, Augustus realized he needed to keep his mouth shut.

Miss Crouch assumed the role of prosecutor. "He was warned that allowing attacks on Miss Cooper would not be allowed. She barely managed to avoid injury from Mr. Potter's attack."

Miss Honig took the defense of the fourth year. "He faced Gryffindor's senior at that point and was badly outplayed. As he regained position he made no move against Miss Cooper."

The two turned to Miss Cooper in her role as judge. Sarah thought for a minute. "I believe the verdict rests on the ugly lump's ability. If he played well then he is guilty for allowing the attack. If he is an overconfident braggart without as much ability as he imagines he should be found innocent. How does the ugly lump plead?"

The three turned to Mr. Bulstrode. "I faced their senior! I'll admit I wasn't ready for him."

"A poor defense," Miss Crouch sighed, "I still hear the voice of the braggart."

"True," Miss Cooper ruled. "His plea fails to impress."

"He wasn't ready for Miss Osgood," Miss Honig rebutted. "Mr. Bulstrode? Were you ready for the junior beater or did the witch outplay you."

"You had another damn charm on my club!"

"I removed that charm part way through the game," Poppy reminded him. "What happened afterwards?"

Augustus remained silent.

Deborah encouraged him with, "The truth will set you free."

Mr. Bulstrode hesitated, then admitted, "She outplayed me."

Sarah handed down the verdict, "Ugly lump needs to practice harder if he's going to face Mr. Cairo in our last game. The attack on me is ruled the result of his inadequacies, and not pre-meditated. Poppy? You may free the prisoner."

The Hufflepuff team came out to congratulate the Slytherins. Weasel came out as well, "Good win, Sis. At least Slytherin will have one win this year."

"We'll beat Ravenclaw so badly that we'll take the quidditch cup," Elizabeth predicted.

"You're both leaving Hufflepuff out of the equation," Robin pointed out. "We've already beat Slytherin. When we beat Gryffindor and Ravenclaw we'll finish with a perfect year and retain the cup."

Edward William left them to run back to the Ravenclaw team and prevent Mr. Wells from obtaining a monopoly on Miss Fowler's attention. Robin walked back with Elizabeth while Miss O'Shaughnessy walked beside Turk and Mr. Andrews accompanied the Sisters.

The victory party at Slytherin lasted long into the evening.

Monday Elizabeth and Robin helped Professor Saxifrage harvest the nettles. "I'll have house elves spin the fibers and weave them into cloth over the break. We'll test effectiveness in the winter term."

Four students failed in the second round of dueling trials on Wednesday evening. After assuring the rest of the students they could move to the open meetings at the start of the winter term she encouraged them to drill those who had failed for the remainder of the evening and during the final session of the term next week so that they all could advance together.

The approach of term break made concentrating for classes difficult for faculty as well as students. Several professors devoted class sessions to reviews of material which had proven difficult when first introduced while others made themselves unpopular by plowing ahead while the minds of the students were incapable of retaining new ideas.

Caroling groups spent two days going around the school and Hogsmeade. There were only four Welshmen this year, but they sounded like a much larger group as they sang 'Canu Cwnsela' or 'Ar Had y Nos'. Why the Welsh witches did not sing with the group remained a mystery, but the women usually joined with the other caroling groups. Students set aside language charms when the Germans came by with carols such as 'Stille Nacht!' or 'Frölich soll mein Herze springen.' While the language charms worked perfectly well for speech they performed poorly with music and poetry. The Irish asserted their Roman faith through old Latin hymns like 'Adeste Fideles' and 'In Dulci Jubilo', but they also had songs such as 'Carúl Loch Garman' in their repertoire. Dissenters felt welcome to all of English hymnody, but specialized in the music of Charles Wesley. The Anglican contingent in which Elizabeth sang had an almost excessively long list of carols from the 'Coventry Carol' through the 'Sussex Carol.' They had gone to Hogsmeade on the first night of caroling and Miss Gray wasn't certain if they'd ever make it back to the school before freezing.

After the second night of caroling the singers met for a party after their rounds. The fat friar attended, expressing the wish that the chapel were in repair so the gathering could be held there. Wassail, posset, and eggnog were provided - with hot chocolate, cider and pumpkin juice for those who wished to avoid an aching head on the morrow. For the Welsh there was taffy. Many students dropped ribbons of hot taffy into a basin of cold water and a fifth year witch who did well in divination studied the cooled taffy to discover the name of the students' true loves.

A curious German custom stood in one corner, an evergreen tree had been cut down in the woods, set up in the room, and festooned with garlands and ornaments. Small candle holders had been fastened to the branches and the candles burned for the party.

"And it really is a German custom to set fire to their homes each Christmas?" Mr. Philpott asked Miss Niebuhr - alluding to the caroling party two years earlier.

"It is not our custom to burn homes... Accidents simply happen."

"We English love our homes too much for that sort of thing."

Carolers gorged themselves on slices of cake and pudding along with the pastries and sugar plums which the students who had to remain at Hogwarts over term break would enjoy on Christmas day. Following the feast the singers all joined together for a few songs. The Germans did better with 'Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning' and 'Joy to the World,' than the British students did with 'Es is ein Ros' entsprungen,' and 'Ihr kinderlein kommet.'

The party ended with students shouting, "Merry Christmas," to each other as the four groups returned to their houses, a few who had partied well but not wisely being supported by those who had been more abstemious.

Classes for the term had ended. Many students packed in their rooms and others partied in the common room. Elizabeth, already packed for the trip home, came out to the common room with a book for pleasure reading. As she prepared to curl up in her favorite chair she noticed something both so routine and so unusual as to startling. In the small right alcove students still engaged in study while the world around them ignored the acquisition of knowledge. Mr. Black held his usual position at the near end of the table where he could eavesdrop on the third years, but there were four heads bent in study at the far end of the table instead of the usual three. In addition to Miss Honig's black hair, Miss Crouch's blonde, and Miss Cooper's brown, someone with shorter, red hair sat between Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper. Elizabeth checked again, unable to believe Mr. Andrews had been invited to study with the Sisters - but the evidence in front of her eyes proclaimed it true. Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper sat exceedingly close to the young man. Elizabeth hoped Mr. Andrews didn't mind living dangerously, because it appeared to her that he soon would be.

* * *

Bowdlerized version – Thomas Bowdler published his _Family Shakespeare_ in 1818, which cleaned up the naughty bits to make it suitable for family reading. The Wiki article states he wrote to please a Victorian audience – crediting Bowlder with the gift of prophecy since Victoria didn't come to the throne for another twenty years and wasn't even considered as a possible heir to the throne as Bowdler wrote. Don't you wish your teacher had spent more time on the naughty bits? Wouldn't it have made Shakespeare more fun?

I tried to avoid carols more recent than 1835. A number of the songs mentioned in the chapter saw publication in William Sandy's _Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern_ in 1833. Sorry for any anachronisms.

Christmas trees were virtually unknown in England in 1835. Queen Victoria's German husband, Prince Albert, brought the custom to the royal palaces and they became popular in England and many other English speaking countries after that.


	11. An Uncomfortable Dinner

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Hogwarts. There are other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**An Uncomfortable Dinner**

When Elizabeth, Edward William, and Basil arrived home her brothers immediately went in search of friends. "Wake me tomorrow," Elizabeth told her mother.

"No, you are coming with me to visit the Gardiners."

"Can't that be put off for a day or two?"

"They will be leaving to visit their niece in Derbyshire for Christmas in a day or two. I want to see them before they leave."

Elizabeth yawned, "The Gardiners are nice people, but I am tired and not certain why I need to accompany you."

"John will be there. He asks about you often."

For some reason Elizabeth doubted that. At twenty-two John Gardiner was handsome, well educated, and already doing well in the business established by his father. Elizabeth enjoyed dancing with him, and in the prior year twice gone with him to the theater. But he never betrayed any feeling toward her beyond being a family friend.

"It is Mrs. Pilton's Ladies Seminary I am supposedly attending, isn't it?" Elizabeth checked with her mother on the short ride to the Gardiner home.

"Yes... I wish they offered French at Hogwarts."

"Fortunately we all speak English."

"You know what I mean."

Elizabeth didn't, but let it pass. The four chatted for a half hour in the parlor. If Elizabeth had retained any doubts as to her mother's intentions they vanished when Mrs. Gardiner invited her mother to see some new furniture in the upper rooms. When Elizabeth rose with the other two women her mother told her, "You may stay here. We won't be long."

They were gone much longer than necessary. It wasn't clear to what degree John was a willing participant in their mothers' plans. He asked remarkably little about Elizabeth. Fortunately he enjoyed the London theaters and once he was asked for his opinion on the current offerings Elizabeth needed to say very little.

"Isn't John handsome?" Mrs. Gray asked as Geoffrey drove them home from their visit.

"I suppose."

"You suppose? It wouldn't hurt you to be more positive than that."

"Fine. He is quite handsome."

"And he is doing so well in business."

"I wonder why he was home today then rather than working."

Mrs. Gray hesitated a minute, and ignored her daughter's question. "A fine young man indeed. What was your opinion of him?"

"As muggles go, he's very nice."

"As muggles go? You sound just like your father. It is not a disease, you know. Pray, what is wrong with muggles?"

"I'm certain there is nothing wrong with muggles. John will find some pretty muggle girl to marry and they shall raise of crop of muggle children."

"There are wizards and witches who marry muggles."

"Are you suggesting I should?"

"I merely say it shouldn't stand in your way... If you loved a muggle, that is. Not that I... How are your friends at Hogwarts?"

Elizabeth managed a two hour nap after returning home from the visit with her mother. Then Noddy woke her with instructions, "Your father says you need to dress for dinner."

"Why?"

"So you can eat dinner."

"I don't understand. This is my first evening home. Aren't we all eating as a family?"

"Your father says no. He wants to speak with you about conditions at Hogwarts. You will dine with him at the Wand Club. You need to dress."

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and wondered at the conspiracy to keep her awake. She could think of nothing she needed to tell her father that could not wait.

Geoffrey let them out in front of the club and Mr. Gray ordered him to return in two hours. Father and daughter checked their coat and cloak and entered the club's large dining room. At their entrance a young man with dark wavy hair and a prominent nose made a small wave in their direction.

"Oh look, it's Mr. Prince," Mr. Gray commented. "You remember him, don't you?"

Mr. Prince had finished his time at Slytherin at the end of Elizabeth's third year. "Yes."

"Why don't we join him for dinner?"

"I thought you wished to discuss events at Hogwarts with me?"

"It can wait for tomorrow."

Elizabeth did not find it an odd coincidence that Mr. Prince sat by himself at a table with three place settings.

Mr. Gray spent the entire meal encouraging conversation between Elizabeth and Mr. Prince to the best of his ability. On the carriage ride home he inquired, "Well, what do you think of Mr. Prince?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Can't a father be curious?"

"Can't a daughter?"

"I just thought it was pleasant to run into the man. He has very good prospects."

"So he told me, five times during dinner."

Mr. Gray mistakenly assumed that Elizabeth had counted out of interest in what Mr. Prince had to say and congratulated himself on reintroducing the two. He took immense pleasure in having invited Mr. Prince to a family dinner the next evening with the promise to 'discuss business' afterwards.

Her mother disturbed Elizabeth's slumber the next morning with the news that she wanted to visit the Gardiners again. Elizabeth pulled the pillow over her head and reminded her mother she had gone the day before.

"But they leave for Derbyshire tomorrow. It will be your last chance to see him-- I mean, my last chance to visit with her before they leave. Please, Lizzy, I want you to pay the call with me."

At the end of the visit John Gardiner invited Elizabeth to attend a burletta with him at the Adelphi Theatre that evening, and she accepted the invitation.

"How could you accept an invitation to the theater?" her father demanded when he returned home in the evening. "You knew Mr. Prince was coming to dinner."

"You told me that you had invited Mr. Prince to dinner so that you might discuss business with him."

"But--"

"That was what you said, wasn't it?"

"Well, yes. But--"

"I fear I might simply be in the way. He seemed excessively interested in talking with me last night and I didn't want that to interfere with the two of you talking business."

Elizabeth counted on John Gardiner being too enthralled by the burletta to pay much attention to her. She congratulated herself for a very successful evening. John Gardiner spoke but little, she avoided Mr. Prince entirely, and she enjoyed the stage production. Of course her mother and Mrs. Gardiner might imagine that she had other reasons for attending the theater rather than to merely watch the performance, but fortunately the Gardiners would be leaving and she could not be thrown together with John - who would not return to London until the new year.

* * *

By Friday morning, Christmas day, Elizabeth had caught up on her missing sleep. But she still pulled the blankets over her head when she heard Pearl and Basil running in the hallway. With no classes to attend she determined to bank several extra hours of slumber and almost resented being awakened. Part of her wished that Basil could act more mature now that he attended Hogwarts, but part of her found comfort in the familiar sounds.

Pearl received toys, and a small cauldron with a collection of ingredients for potions. Basil took delight in books, and received many reasons to rejoice on Christmas morning. Through Elizabeth his parents knew the condition of Edward William's wardrobe and he would return to Hogwarts a much better dressed wizard.

"I had wanted to give you an invisibility cloak," her father apologized as he handed her a present, "but with the loss of cargo for _The Swallow_ there weren't any materials to have it woven for you."

"I don't know when I'd need an invisibility cloak," she told him as she tore into the paper. "I-- These are beautiful!"

The box held two items of the soft, thick wool dyed absolute black, commonly referred to as dead black, "as black as the inside of a coffin, buried six feet deep, at midnight, on a moonless night" was how some described it. The dress robe sported silver clasps and trim which shone brightly against the darkness of the wool. Jet buttons on the cloak were almost as dark as the fabric itself.

"You like them?" her mother asked anxiously.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and rubbed the soft cloth against her cheek, "They're wonderful!"

After breakfast the family went to the parlor. Pearl looked through a small book of potions which came with the cauldron and her parents questioned Basil and Weasel on what they did at Hogwarts as Elizabeth practiced the piano.

Late in the afternoon, with family scattered throughout the house or visiting friends Elizabeth ran upstairs to her room for a package.

She found her brother stretched out in the parlor with a muggle newspaper. She called, "Weasel," to get his attention and tossed him the package.

He grinned and pulled a small parcel from behind a cushion and threw it to her.

"I hope you realize you are an embarrassment to the family," she told him as he tore off the paper. "You run around Hogwarts looking like something from a charity ward."

Edward William held up one of the two robes that had been in the package his sister gave him. "This is really nice!"

"They're from Kestrel's. The ones from mother and father are standard weight, these are extra warm for that drafty tower you have to live in."

"Thanks. Sorry I couldn't find you something new."

"That's all right. The way you wasted all your money on—"

"I didn't waste my money!"

"All right, the way you wasted father's money on—"

"It wasn't a waste!"

"Well, you didn't have anything left. I'm surprised you got me a present." She pulled the paper off the small parcel. It held a book, and a used one judging by the wear on the cover. Elizabeth sought for some polite way to say thank you when she noticed the title and her jaw dropped open in amazement, Anne Douglas _The Herbs of Wales and Their Lesser Known Properties_. She stared at the book, unable to speak.

"It's missing a couple plates," he told her.

Elizabeth didn't respond. She had spent years looking for a copy. Prof. Saxifrage had called it the most wonderfully written book on herbology in the English language. Her own copy had been loaned to a student and never returned. The library at Hogwarts had once owned four copies – they had all been 'lost' by students who cheerfully paid the fine and kept the volumes for themselves. Professor Saxifrage no longer loaned books to students – even Elizabeth and Robin read in her office if they wished to study something in one of her books. Elizabeth quickly opened the book to see if an owner's name was written in the front cover. While there was no name a price had been penciled in, 4p.

"Are you going to say something?" her brother asked.

"It looks like it might be interesting," she commented casually. "Did you say it was missing two plates? A pity."

"If you don't want it you can give it back to me."

Elizabeth clutched the book to her bosom, "You can't have it! It's mine! Mine!" She began to run from the room to find a place to read, but curiosity compelled her to come back and admit, "I give up. How did you know, and where did you find a copy?"

"You didn't say thank you. I will only answer one of your questions."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Now, how did you know, and where did you find it?"

"Your thanks are too late. Only one answer. Which do you want?"

Elizabeth chewed her lip nervously. It didn't seem appropriate to threaten her brother with bodily harm on Christmas day. She would have to wait until later for the whole story, but she had to find the answer to, "How did you know?"

"I asked Vivien if she knew of anything you wanted. She said you've been dragging her to bookshops for years asking for a copy. Even Vivien remembered the title after hearing you ask the five hundredth time. Oh, and she promised to kiss me on the cheek if I could find it and free her from the curse of your eternal quest."

"Where did you find it?"

"I told you, only one answer."

"But that was so easy."

He held up a hand for silence, "That was your one question."

Services on Sunday reminded Elizabeth of how much she missed her home parish.

Elizabeth had arranged with Charles Potter for Monday to be the day he took her to dinner. The inordinate amount of time she took in choosing a dress and getting ready drew Pearl's attention. From Pearl the news spread to other members of the family.

Basil and her mother arrived at her room at the same time, with very different attitudes. "You're really going out with Charles Potter?" Basil asked, clearly excited by the idea.

"Exactly who is this Mr. Potter, that you're spending so much time primping for?" her mother demanded.

"He's the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team," Basil enthused. "He's great at dueling! Mr. Potter is the most amazing student in Gryffindor."

"If he is, it speaks very poorly for Gryffindor," Elizabeth snorted.

"You are spending a great deal of time preparing," her mother pointed out.

"He lost a bet with me when Slytherin defeated Gryffindor. He owes me dinner."

Her mother's eyes narrowed, "You are dressing to impress the young man."

"I am dressing to humiliate the young nuisance. Wherever he takes me, he shall resemble some ragged debtor beside me.

"I can't believe you would be that rude towards anyone."

"He accused me of cheating in the last quidditch game! We have shared a mutual dislike since his first day at Hogwarts."

"Then why did you even make a wager with the young man."

"Young scoundrel is more like it. He thought the winner picked the place to eat and would have demanded I take him to the most expensive place in London had Gryffindor won."

"So, where will you have him take you?"

"No. The wager allowed the losing captain to chose where we would eat."

"And where will he be taking you?"

"I've no idea. But I assume nowhere expensive."

Elizabeth's answers mollified her mother and disappointed her brother. She was still in her room when a knock came on the front door. Noddy had been warned to expect the arrival of a wizard, but fled to the master of the house when he looked out at the figure on the stoop. "There's some beggar at the door!"

Mr. Gray went to the door to drive the vagrant away, only to be greeted with, "Mr. Gray? Charles Potter. I have an appointment with your daughter, Miss Gray."

George Gray examined the shabbily dressed figure, "You are Charles Potter? Of Gryffindor?"

"Yes."

"You are taking my daughter to dinner?"

"Yes."

Mr. Gray wasn't certain how to respond to Mr. Potter's words. He felt some relief - the young man was clearly no rival for Mr. Prince. Part of him wanted to laugh at the odd costume Charles wore, and part of him wanted to throw him into the street for the insult of arriving at his home dressed like that. He gestured for Mr. Potter to enter. "Noddy!" he thundered, "Go tell Miss Elizabeth that Mr. Potter is here."

Mr. Gray stayed with the guest in the vestibule as the house elf went to Elizabeth's room with the message. Mr. Potter stood, playing with the string tied around the parcel in his hand, and wondering if his plan represented a bad idea or justifiable payback.

Elizabeth waited an extra minute or two to insure a grand entrance, and then swept down the stairs looking radiant.

Not having heard the story of the bet Mr. Gray felt a brief stab of fear that her daughter might be interested in Mr. Potter. He glanced again at the young man and merely felt confused. Either one or both hoped to play a rough trick of some sort on the other.

Elizabeth stared at Mr. Potter in disbelief. "What are you dressed for?"

"For dinner."

"Like that?"

"Like this."

"Where are you planning to take my daughter?" Mr. Gray demanded.

"I spent a few years growing up in India and developed a taste for the food. I asked--"

"I was in India for a couple years. Never developed a taste for those curries the natives consume. Or those damn chutneys."

"I like them. So I asked around and was told of a place which is supposed to serve it."

"The rough clothing?" Elizabeth reminded him.

"It's near the docks."

Mr. Gray stated the obvious, "Not a nice place to take a young woman. I would prefer you found somewhere to the west."

"If I could find a place which served the food I wanted I would. But the Lascars are living here on the east side."

Mr. Gray shook his head, "I don't approve of at a place such as that. It could be dangerous."

"Exactly, Sir, and that is why I propose that Miss Gray wear muggle clothing," he said handing Elizabeth the neatly tied parcel. "With these clothes and a simple concealment spell she'll look like a young man. No one will think anything about two poorly dressed men at such a place."

Elizabeth opened the package to find an outfit every bit as disreputable as the one Charles was wearing. "Do we have to dress like paupers to go there?"

"We should dress to blend in with the rest of the diners."

"Still sounds dangerous," Mr. Gray muttered

"Oh, I think eating with your daughter will be very dangerous. But I believe I can keep her from causing serious damage."

"Papa, I don't think I want to do this." Turning to Charles she continued, "I release you from your obligation. Go now, you are free."

"I'd rather not. You accepted the wager. And while I would rather have won the match I think taking you out for dinner will serve as partial recompense."

Elizabeth turned back to her father for support, but found none. "Sorry Lizzy, but I think you have to go. It will serve as a valuable lesson. I've always known you should never bet if you can't afford to lose. It now appears you shouldn't gamble when you can't afford to win."

Elizabeth took the clothes upstairs to change. The over-sized pants, patched shirt and ragged sweater were clean, but she handled them like they contained something nasty and contagious. She couldn't believe her father was making her go out for dinner, but he always insisted on paying debts of honor and he apparently saw Elizabeth's win as a loss that she must make good on.

To make matters worse, as she returned to the vestibule she caught the closing words of her father's conversation with Charles Potter, "… tomorrow night at seven. I would enjoy having you. We'll talk about your time in India."

"I don't think Miss Gray would appreciate having me at your dinner table."

"Oh, she has a friend of her own coming to dinner. I am on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts and want to know of your father's plans. Please, arrive at five if you are able."

Charles nodded, "Thank you for the invitation, I would be delighted."

Elizabeth did not have a friend coming to dinner the next evening. Her father had invited Mr. Prince to make up for the dinner Elizabeth had missed to attend the theater. With the indignities falling on her thick and fast she applied the charm to mask her features.

"I've asked Geoffrey to drive you fairly close," her father informed her. "I don't want the carriage on some of those streets. Besides, probably wouldn't do to have you seen arriving in a carriage. Make people think you had money and make you a target for thieves. Oh, and Mr. Potter was given a fairly clear set of directions, but he has no real knowledge of the east side--"

"Actually, I'm amazingly ignorant about all of London," Charles admitted.

"So you'll have to serve as guide."

Elizabeth wondered if she could discover a way to lose Mr. Potter while slipping home herself.

The acrid yellow fog that often choked the winter nights was not too bad that evening, allowing Elizabeth to pick out landmarks as they drove toward the docks. The moon was also three-quarters full. Geoffrey let them out on one of the larger streets, a little more than half a mile from where Mr. Potter's directions indicated they would find their place to dine. Elizabeth wasn't certain if the shop she discovered opened off of something deserving the dignity of being called a street or it should more properly be termed an alley. But Mr. Potter smiled as he inhaled the rich smell of spicy food.

"This must be the place," he told her - stating the obvious.

"Indeed," she muttered, wondering why he bothered to say anything.

The two went in. The dozen or so men there were mostly standing by a bar. Charles shouted something to the man pouring liquor in a language Elizabeth could not understand and he pointed to the few rickety tables on the other side of the room. Mr. Potter exchanged some other words with the man, then with a sweep of his hand indicated Elizabeth should pick one of the tables for them to sit at.

Miss Gray kept her voice low. The charm might disguise her features, but her voice was still that of a woman, " What did you say," she whispered when the two men had finished.

"I ordered dinner," he told her.

"Do I get a choice?"

"Not really. There are no menus here. But they make vindaloo and that is what I wanted."

"This place is filthy," she protested - also stating the obvious.

"We are not here for décor, we are here for the food."

Elizabeth was not here for décor or food, and she certainly wasn't here for the companionship. She just wanted the dinner over so that she could return home.

"What were you speaking?"

"Hindi. I think the man at the bar is Bengali - but he knew what I was saying."

Elizabeth wished she did. They sat silently until someone came out from the room behind the bar with two bowls of something Elizabeth could not identify and two dirty wooden spoons. He said something to Mr. Potter, who pulled out a few coins and put them on the table. The Lascar put down the bowls and swept up the money, then returned to the back room.

Elizabeth looked at the bowl, uncertain what to do, and not wanting to touch the spoon. Mr. Potter picked up his spoon without hesitation and shoveled in a large mouthful. She watched with fascination as he chewed the disgusting mess and swallowed. "It's wonderful," he assured her.

It didn't look wonderful. But it smelled interesting, and a Slytherin wouldn't let a Gryffindor do something without answering the challenge. Miss Gray picked up her own spoon, took a deep breath, and put a spoonful of the vindaloo in her own mouth. Her eyes went wide with surprise as her mouth burned with pain. As near as Elizabeth could tell she had just placed a live coal in her mouth and the result was agony. Mr. Potter, who had been watching closely tried to contain his laughter, with very little success.

"It's really very good," he assured her, eating another bite.

"Very amusing," she countered. "You obviously told them to poison the one they served to me." She reached over and switched bowls with Mr. Potter.

He stared at the bowl in front of him, apparently with terror, and Elizabeth congratulated herself for seeing through his trick so easily. She filled her spoon with the curry from the bowl he had used and put it in her mouth with confidence.

Her mouth, still sensitive from the agony it had endured a moment earlier, hurt even worse as she hit it with another dose of vindaloo.

This time he laughed out loud in response to the expression on her face. "I haven't had this in years," he told her taking another spoonful from the bowl in front of him. "Need to get the recipe for Hogwarts," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

"This is low, even for a pillock like you," you told him harshly - and too loudly in his opinion.

He swallowed hurriedly. "Not so loud," he warned. "You'll draw attention to us."

"Why? You don't want them to know you welched on a bet?" she sneered, not dropping her volume.

"This is not a nice place," he reminded her. He glanced at the bar and noticed a couple men eyeing the individual who looked like a man but spoke with a woman's voice. At least one of them stared at Elizabeth's feet and the good boots she wore for the walk home. "Please, lower your voice."

"And why am I in this filthy den?" she asked rhetorically, but dropping her voice. "Because I won a bet. But the loser was to treat the winner to a meal. If you provide nothing I can eat you have welched on the bet."

"It's not my fault you--"

"And whose fault is it then?"

He changed the subject, "You were rude to me from the moment you saw me!"

"I tried to give you fashion advice, and you ridiculed me for it. And we were talking about the debt you incurred with your bet."

"You've never been pleasant to me."

"You spent your first year retelling that story of our first meeting so that everyone would laugh at me and my mistake. And you still haven't admitted you cheated on your bet."

"I don't cheat!"

"I don't accuse you of cheating at quidditch - even though your seeker broke the rules. Who was it who should have taught him the rules of the game? But I accepted it an on honest mistake on the part of Mr. Jones. May I remind you that you lodged a complaint of cheating against my junior? A charge that was confirmed as wholly without merit. You accuse me falsely of cheating without grounds. I had grounds to accuse your team of cheating, but I didn't. And this is how you settle a debt of honor?"

He said nothing. During her speech two men had left the bar, but the two arguing at the table had not noticed their departure and would have thought nothing of it if they had.

"Did you expect me to eat this vile concoction, or did you bring me here knowing it would only burn my mouth."

He remained silent.

"Has eating that… whatever destroyed your ability to speak?" she demanded.

"I knew you couldn't eat it… Or rather, I suspected you couldn't eat it," he admitted. "I'm sorry. Can we find somewhere that I can actually buy a meal for you?"

"No, all I want to do it leave this place and go home."

He pushed his bowl away. "I owe you a dinner."

"I just want to leave. You have humiliated me enough for one night."

"Your junior made an incredibly lucky hit, I simply--"

"I want to leave."

They stood to leave. By habit Charles opened the door and held it, then cursed himself for behavior that would look unnatural for two men. Yellow fog swirled around their legs and stench assailed their nostrils as they attained the alley. Elizabeth was not certain how to describe the place they had left. While there had been liquor served she would not dignify the place by calling it a tavern. Rat-infested garbage dump probably summed up Elizabeth's feelings on the building they left as well as anything she would be willing to repeat in mixed company.

Mr. Potter tried to apologize again, "I really am sorry, I didn't--"

"Don't say anything," she told him, "not one word."

There was an almost palpable feel of anger on her part and contrition on his as they walked down the alley towards the street.

Despite her request for silence Mr. Potter kept trying to apologize. Finally Elizabeth snapped, "If I accept your apology, will you be quiet?"

He nodded, and they walked in briefly in silence before he pointed out, "We're being followed."

"I know. Do you think they are working with the two men ahead of us?"

"What two men?"

"Those in the shadows ahead, where the alley joins the street."

Charles reached for his wand, "I would estimate the probability as very high."

"Don't pull your wand yet. How many are following us?"

He glanced back over his shoulder, "Two."

She grinned, "I've wanted to try this spell for years."

"What spell?"

"Never mind… Oh, I've never actually done this spell before, so you might want to keep your wand close by, just in case I've not remembered it correctly."

"When are you going to try your spell?"

"We need to be a little closer for it to be most effective."

She pulled her wand out as they drew closer to the men before them. They could hear the men behind them quickening their pace. Charles wished Elizabeth would give him a better idea of her plans. They were so close Charles worried he might not have time to react properly if her spell failed.

Suddenly she bumped Charles hard with her shoulder, knocking him into the center of the mire and filth in the alley. As he struggled to keep from falling down in the muck he half heard her spell. Things seemed to darken for a minute, but before Charles could look up to see if yellow fog had gone across the nearly full moon or it was part of the spell she joined him in the muck.

"Hurry," she whispered and started to walk towards the city again.

"But--" he began to protest.

"I said hurry." She took his hand and gave him a pull to get him moving.

He expected the men who had stalked them to follow them onto the street, but judging by the sounds behind them the four were fighting among themselves.

"What was that?" he demanded. "It sounded like some sort of confundus charm."

"Shhh, they might hear us," she whispered and kept walking. The noise of the fighting continued behind them and after twenty or thirty yards she spoke again, "Yes, that was a confundus charm."

"It wasn't a normal confundus, and I still don't understand why they didn't see us."

"No it wasn't normal. And wizard or witch would probably have seen us. It was an unusual charm… I visit a lot of book stores, and I came across an old book, _One Hundred and One Curious and Forgotten Spells_, that--"

He snorted, "The title is wrong."

"What do you mean, the title is wrong?"

"Well, if they were written into a book they could scarcely have been forgotten."

"What if they were forgotten before they were printed?"

"If they had truly been forgotten the author could hardly have put them into a book."

She retreated back into angry silence. "You are without a doubt the most obstinate and pig-headed individual I've ever--"

"Sorry, I was trying to tease you."

"Not appreciated… I guess that technically you are correct."

"So, what is happening to the men back there?"

"They are attacking us."

"Excuse me, what did you say?"

"They believe they are attacking us."

He was silent for a moment. There heard a scream from behind them. "I promised your father to keep you out of trouble."

"They are only doing to each other what they were willing to do to us."

He had to admit there was a rough justice to what she had done. "Remind me to never make a Slytherin angry with me."

"I believe you mean another Slytherin angry with you. I already know of one who wishes she had never met you."

The adventure they had shared made them a little more willing to talk with each other. His behavior still troubled Mr. Potter. "I really am sorry. I behaved terribly. Is there anyway I can obtain your forgiveness, anything I can do?"

"Would you consider jumping from London Bridge?"

"I doubt I could even find it," he admitted. "So, what exactly did your forgotten charm do? It seems like it might have some value."

"Not really," she sighed. "It only works if there are exactly twice as many attackers. If I were alone, it would only work if there were two attackers. It worked tonight because there were two of us, had there been three of us--"

"Six," he said.

She nodded.

"I'm surprised you remembered it at all. It seems very close to useless."

"I learned about a dozen of the spells. I can change the color of a flower and test milk for purity. More than half the book consisted of unusual curses. When I purchased the book I hoped it might help my dueling, because I do so poorly. I decided it was useless for my purpose. I think there was one to cause your enemy's ear hair to grow, another one caused flatulence, and another claimed to be the most powerful sneezing curse known to wizards."

"Is there a chance I could borrow your book?"

"I don't think it has anything of value."

He shrugged, "I duel, I would like to see if there are any interesting curses in the book."

"You are a man, and you are curious about the flatulence curse."

"No I'm… All right. Yes I am curious. But it doesn't appear to have any use in dueling. There still might be something I could use."

"I am not at all certain I trust you with a weapon such at that. Giving you instructions on that curse could come back to harm me."

"Your… I mean, that portion of your… Rather… Oh, bother. I would never use that on you. You are quite safe in that portion of your anatomy."

"Oh? And what portions of my anatomy are not safe with you?"

There was enough light for her to see him blush, and he fell silent. Elizabeth, with her much better sense of London, led the way. As they walked they found what seemed to be the only safe topic of conversation between the two of them, quidditch. They discussed, and quarreled, over the best strategies for playing the game but enjoyed the give-and-take with another skilled player.

Elizabeth smiled at information he shared with her, "Mr. Chance called you the best keeper at Hogwarts."

"He didn't have to play opposite Miss Tinker."

"Oh yes he did. He practiced against her constantly, remember?"

"Practices are not as intense as real games."

"It always was for those two. He said you were the best, and you're even better now." Elizabeth smiled again and Charles felt an amazing sensation, he enjoyed seeing her smile. "They are now engaged."

"No."

"Yes."

"Can two strong-willed people be happy together? I think they would fight constantly. Or one would constantly need to surrender to the other, which could not make for a happy marriage."

"They didn't always fight - those were just what people talked about. They respect each other. I believe that the key to happiness in marriage."

Miss Gray laughed, "So, the two of us will never wed. What other qualifications are you looking for in a wife - other than a large dowry, of course?"

"I am not looking for a wife--"

"You should talk with Mr. Philpott. He thinks you're handsome."

Mr. Potter rolled his eyes, "My father wishes to do one more field study and I'll be going with him. It will be a few years at least before I can return to England. I've not thought about the qualities I would want in a woman."

"What never? No concern if she has blond, brown, or black hair? I thought all men had a wish list of some sort."

"Well, as I walk with you I realize I'd like a woman a little shorter than I. You make me feel quite inferior beside you."

"It is a good way for a man to feel. It puts you in perspective. Yet another reason we're safe with each other."

"Obviously you have a wish list, because you asked the question. What are you looking for in a husband?"

Elizabeth hesitated, then admitted, "I'm not certain. Odd as it sounds I may agree with you. Someone I can respect and who will respect me. Oh, and someone I chose for myself, not someone my parents pick for me."

"Sounds like they are putting pressure on you."

"They both have candidates standing for office. Both of whom might be pleasant enough young men, but--"

"But you would prefer to find your own life partner rather than having one selected for you."

"Exactly." Elizabeth suddenly realized they were speaking of a much more intimate topic with Charles Potter than she would have imagined possible and, embarrassed at the thought, quickly returned the conversation to quidditch.

Elizabeth's stomach growled from hunger loud enough for Charles to hear as they tramped through the streets. He apologized again and offered to take her out for a real dinner - which Elizabeth refused. "I have no taste for the food you enjoy," she pointed out.

"I will let you pick the restaurant."

"No thank you."

"I owe you. If you ever need me to do something for you… Except jumping off London Bridge--"

She actually laughed. "I'll give thought to other possible bridges.

Elizabeth dropped the charm on her face as they neared her home. The carriage stood outside the house, with Geoffrey sleeping inside the carriage under a thick blanket and the horses wishing the night would end so they could return to their warm stalls and oats. "I'll wake Geoffrey."

"I could walk home."

"Mr. Potter, you convinced me of several things tonight - and one of them is that you are lost around London. If you won't throw yourself in the Thames to please me I don't want you falling in it by accident. He's out here in order to take you home."

Geoffrey rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Mr. Potter gave him the location where his father had rented rooms. Charles offered one more apology through the carriage window, then with a clatter of iron edged wheels on the paving stones the carriage was off.

The Gray household was asleep when Elizabeth slipped in. She went immediately to the kitchen and found some bread and cheese to satisfy her hunger.

_"At least I will never need to talk with Mr. Potter again,"_ she consoled herself as she chewed. _"Oh, bother. Father invited him to dinner."_

* * *

Schools for young women were often called ladies' seminaries. Don't ask me why. The daughters of the lower classes worked. The daughters of the very wealthy enjoyed education from private tutors. The daughters of the growing middle class were likely to attend ladies' seminaries of terribly uneven quality. From the best to the poorest they tended to prepare women to be wives. Failing to find a husband the education provided might equip a young woman to serve as a governess to children, lady's companion, or to teach in a ladies' seminary.

Burlettas - also called comic operas or later operettas. The Alelphi Theatre opened under a different name in 1809. Today's Adelphi represents the fourth theater on the spot; the first still stood in 1835.

People started using jet for ornaments about ten thousand years ago. It was popular for mourning jewelry in 19th century England, but could be used for buttons as well.

4p = fourpence, four pennies. This indicates Weasel found the book at a Muggle bookstore.

I hesitated to use the word toilet, because a common 19th century meaning has been lost. In 19th century fiction it most often referred to the act of dressing. But 21st century readers would probably snicker if I wrote, "Elizabeth was careful with her toilet."

And the moon was indeed three-quarters full on the night of Monday, December 28th, 1835. The air quality that night I can't vouch for, but it was often bad and killed multitudes of people every winter into the 1950s.

London, The City, had been surrounded by many little villages - and I assume the wizard village of Diagon had been among them. Some of the villages east of the old walls were fairly prosperous, but when London grew beyond the old walls and devoured the surrounding villages the east side in particular became largely a slum. While the Gray neighborhood isn't bad it can't be called good either. When they were first married it was all they could afford. They should probably move west, but long-term leases were the order of the day in old England.


	12. A More Uncomfortable Dinner

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are a few other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

A dreadfully talky chapter, even by my dreadfully talky standards. Too much on my view of wizarding history in the chapter and not enough plot. But it is chapter 12 and the outline calls for twenty-four, so if I keep writing this represents the mid-point.

**A More Uncomfortable Dinner**

Elizabeth might have spent the evening with a friend to avoid seeing Mr. Potter, but having dodged Mr. Prince once with the theater she knew her father wanted her at the dinner table that evening. Still, since Mr. Potter was there at her father's invitation to discuss their memories of India she could justify delaying her appearance with the rest of the family.

Miss Gray opened _The Herbs of Wales_ to begin a third reading. It made her long for spring and she wanted to head west and see the plants Anne Douglas described so vividly. She smiled at the dedication, "To Caroline Thickey, dear friend, and Professor Lobelia Saxifrage, beloved teacher." She wondered if the dedication in any way influenced the professor's opinion that the book was the finest written book on herbology in English. Not that Elizabeth could complain about the writing, the book had enchanted even more on the second reading than the first.

Even the charm of reading about Welsh herbs could not postpone the inevitable forever and Elizabeth finally marked her page and closed the book. If Mr. Potter were punctual he would have been downstairs a half an hour already and, while he had not come to see her, etiquette still demanded her presence. If she stayed in her room any longer it would be obvious that she wished to insult Mr. Potter. Elizabeth sighed; while she was perfectly willing to insult Mr. Potter she knew there would be consequences from either her mother or father for poor manners. With luck Elizabeth would find some excuse to ignore him for the remainder of the evening.

Charles Potter, and the rest of her family were in the front parlor. Mr. Potter was deep in conversation with Mr. Gray. Mrs. Gray listened to the conversation with interest, and Basil gazed at the older Gryffindor student with a look bordering on adoration. Pearl seemed somewhat shy around the stranger, and Weasel simply looked bored.

"You're late," her mother chided Elizabeth.

"Sorry," she blushed, "I was reading."

The look Mrs. Gray gave her daughter warned that she found reading a poor excuse.

Elizabeth mostly felt bored during the next few minutes of conversation on India. As the conversation turned more general Mr. Gray asked, "My son, Basil, says you are the Gryffindor dueling champion."

"Yes, sir. I was in the finals for the Hogwarts' championship last year."

"I placed second for school champion in my sixth year. Lost to a seventh year Slytherin, Tiberius Bulstrode."

"There is a fourth year at the school, Augustus Bulstrode. Would he be a son?"

"Tiberius was the uncle of the current Bulstrodes at Slytherin. He died in 'twelve during the Peninsular Campaign."

"Killed in battle?"

"Killed by one of those diseases that go through an army camp and kill more men than bullets. I served on the Duke's staff after I left Hogwarts. There were several of us among the aides."

Charles looked puzzled, "I thought that wizards are not to serve in muggle wars."

"An Englishman should always be willing to serve in an English war. And you don't think the Emperor would have enjoyed the successes he had without help from the Beauxbatons wizards, do you?"

"You believe he had assistance from the French wizards?"

"I know he had assistance from French wizards. I visited his headquarters - I saw them."

"You served as a messenger between the commanders?"

"I wore an invisibility cloak. I didn't see the Emperor; he wasn't there. But there were several wizards present - one with a curious eye that seemed to move with a life of its own - it had to have been magic."

"Did you learn anything of value?"

"Other than confirming that wizards served the Emperor? Not a thing. Utterly mundane conversation."

"How many times were you able to infiltrate the enemy camp?"

Mr. Gray looked uncomfortable at the question.

"Just once. He lost the cloak," Mrs. Gray explained.

"Set it down and couldn't find it? I've always wondered how one keeps from losing an invisibility cloak."

"The wizard with the odd eye discovered me," Mr. Gray admitted.

"Father must have had a foot out, or something," Basil suggested.

"I know how to wear an invisibility cloak," Mr. Gray insisted. "I don't know what happened. But he pulled the cloak off me and-"

"Were you captured?"

"No. To insure the French didn't obtain an invisibility cloak it was charmed to explode into flame without the right charm being said when it was taken off. French got quite a surprise."

"And I'm quite certain that my husband set a record in running through the French lines," his wife added.

"Hrrumph," Mr. Gray coughed. "It was night and I wore dead black. Almost as good as an invisibility cloak."

Mr. Potter's brow wrinkled in thought, "I've been curious… Sir William?"

Mr. Gray sighed, "Yes… He was an aide to the Duke. That is how he obtained his knighthood. What commander would not want to know weather conditions a day and a half in advance? He helped bring at least one victory to the allies."

Mr. Potter looked in vain for a polite way to phrase his next question, but could not find one, "And his, ah, problem?"

"William Baker had not been a drinking man," George Gray answered, staring out into space. "He was a Galen at Hogwarts. Healing was his love. When not serving with advice on weather conditions he spent his time in the field hospitals… He was not the same after the war. He saw things… He never remembered the lives he saved, only the lives he failed to save. Not all casualties are caused by bullets and explosives…"

There was a moment of silence in the room, no one certain how to continue. Finally Mr. Gray spoke, "If you added up all the deaths caused by all the dark wizards that all the houses of Hogwarts have produced through all the centuries they would not equal the deaths caused by the Emperor."

There was a solemn moment before, hoping to change the conversation in a lighter direction, Mrs. Gray objected, "I do not mean to make light of a very real and serious truth, but I can't recall a dark wizard coming out of Hufflepuff."

"Ah, the dark wizards of Hufflepuff," Mr. Gray mused, "the worst of the lot to be sure."

"Can you identify one of the them for me; their names seem to escape my memory."

"Exactly, and that is why they are the worst of the dark wizards. All other dark wizards are open in their efforts to seize power within the community. Always know who they are and what they are up to. But the dark Hufflepuff wizards and witches? Always cloaked in secrecy. No one knows who they are."

"Perhaps no one knows who they are because there aren't any," Mrs. Gray suggested.

"That's what they want us to think." He turned to Charles Potter, "I've gained insight into Hufflepuff after marrying one." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "Potter… Wasn't there a dark wizard-"

Charles flushed with anger, "Grandfather was not a dark wizard! He simply had some spells that didn't turn out as expected!"

"Perhaps… I only know the stories that I heard. If half of them are true, however, I dare say he came closer to destroying Hogwarts than any dark wizard or goblin army. That was long before my time… I do remember a bit of scandal with your father as well."

Charles looked uncomfortable and hoped the topic of conversation would change quickly.

"What sort of a scandal with Professor Potter?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"He taught at Hogwarts prior to his studies of wizarding ethnography. Before he left the school he eloped with one of his students."

"Mother had graduated! She was no longer a student when they wed," Mr. Potter insisted.

"It was _cause célèbre_ at Hogwarts for years," Mr. Gray told his oldest daughter. "They were still talking about it when I attended."

Mrs. Gray, sensing her guest's discomfort changed the subject by asking about Basil's first term at Hogwarts. The conversation stayed on Basil briefly. Then Edward William, who felt an interest in the larger world, asked Mr. Potter about the countries where his father traveled after leaving Hogwarts.

"He began in Africa-"

"Is that why Wolf is in Hogwarts?"

"Wolf?" Mrs. Gray asked.

"It is what we call Mr. Jones, an African," Charles explained, then turned back to Edward William. "Yes. I have an older brother; he was born there. I had a sister I do not remember. I was born in India-"

"And learned to eat fire while there," Elizabeth threw in.

"We spent time in the Americas - my brother settled in the United States and teaches in the Rhode Island school. I came to Hogwarts from South America - my father found some amazing wizarding communities there."

Mr. Gray looked thoughtful, "I do not remember the details… I was fairly new on the Board of Governors at that point… Your arrival and sorting were quite unusual."

"I'd like to hear about that," Elizabeth confessed.

It was a painful subject to Mr. Potter, but he explained the circumstances. "My mother was ill… a cancer. When it was time for me to leave for Hogwarts the first year she didn't want to let me go. She said I was too young to travel alone. She said I was needed there. My mother was a fine herbologist, she gathered information on native plants while my father studied the wizarding communities. She was often too weak to go out herself and had me help her."

"That is why you were a year late?" Elizabeth asked.

"I was two years late," he told her, "she told father I was a great help to her and I didn't leave for another year. There was little she could do for herself that year."

Mrs. Gray spoke softly, "She died, and then you came to Hogwarts?"

"No… She was still alive when I left. I don't know if they felt they should not delay by education any longer or if she wanted me to remember her as she was… before… I received the news a few months after I started Hogwarts."

"And that explains why you were so good at herbology as you began. Robin and I feared you would take the first."

"Mother and Father worked very hard with me while I was with them."

"And that explains why the sorting hat put you in the second year class when you first arrived instead of the first year class," Mr. Gray commented.

"The sorting had can do that?" Basil asked.

"Not often," Mr. Gray told his son. "But it happens sometimes when an extraordinary witch or wizard reaches the school. I suspect Mr. Potter's circumstances make him unusual rather than extraordinary. They say that when Gruoch Crookback arrived at the school the hat placed her in the third year class. An amazing woman - she was teaching transfiguration two years later, as a fifth year-"

Pearl seemed amazed, "Students can teach classes?"

"Not usually," her father smiled, "Gruoch Crookback was an extraordinary woman. I believe she was the youngest head to ever serve Hogwarts."

"If she was so young, was she head for a long time?"

Mr. Gray shook his head sadly. "Her health was never good. I believe there is a statue of her somewhere in the school. Her life stands as a rebuke to those who think that a physical handicap in any way indicates a mental deficit."

The conversation turned to stories of favorite teachers and legends of former teachers and heads of the school. As they talked Mr. Prince arrived for dinner. After introductions they moved into the dining room where Charles sat at Mr. Gray's right hand, with Elizabeth to the left of her father and opposite Mr. Potter. Mr. Prince sat to the left of Elizabeth.

Conversation had almost returned to a normal flow by the end of the soup course when Noddy quietly approached Mr. Gray to inform him, "Munin has news."

George Gray hesitated. He did not want the meal disrupted, nor did he necessarily want the raven's information to be made public. On the other hand, Munin had a very good sense of the sorts of things of interest to Mr. Gray and for him to arrive at their London home at such a time suggested the news would be important. "Ask him to please wait in the parlor, I will be there in a minute."

The raven didn't listen to the message. When the house elf opened the door the black bird flapped in and perched on the back of Mr. Gray's chair. "Mrs. Finster and Mr. O'Brian have gone to the home of Mr. Cruikshank." George Gray frowned on hearing that Governors were meeting without his knowledge. "Mrs. Cuffe was there also."

That news came close to alarming, Mrs. Cuffe, one of Wilson's sycophants, might be trying to persuade the uncommitted middle of the Board to some new act of folly. "Thank you. I will pay well for any intelligence you can gather on the meeting."

"I thought you would, and I have a little - but it can wait for a more private time. I'll be in your study."

Mr. Prince had watched the exchange in awe. Noddy held the door open and the raven flew out of the dining room. "A remarkable bird, where did you acquire him?"

"Don't let him hear you say that. Munin belongs to no one, and more likely regards us as his possessions," Elizabeth warned.

"Did you forget a meeting of the Board of Governors?" Charles asked.

Mr. Gray sighed, "No… I fear for Hogwarts. We live in difficult times and need a Board and Head of the school with a clear vision of the future and the will to face the changing realities. Instead we Governors find ourselves squabbling needlessly."

"I am not disagreeing with what you said," Mr. Potter answered, "but I am curious what you see as the difficult times and changing realities in particular. The wizarding villages are disappearing as the muggle cities grow; I dare say we'll be down to Hogsmeade alone in fifty years. But change is part of life."

"Can't see how the growth of muggle cities changes things for us," Mr. Prince affirmed pompously. "Mithra and some of the smaller villages are gone, but Diagon and others continue on within the larger cities. Our values remain the same. There are just more of the damn muggles cluttering up the landscape." Thankfully he missed the look of disgust Mrs. Gray directed at him.

"The muggle world is changing rapidly, and that means ours with it," Mr. Gray insisted. "Once our villages stood outside every muggle town. If muggles needed items made with skill they sought us out. We were the master craftsmen. We were known and respected for our skills - we served as advisors to kings. Now machinery stamps out more goods in an hour than we could produce by magic. What will it mean for our economy? The steam engine will carry tons of freight, and as fast as we can fly on a broom. Have we lost our way in this brave new world or will the magic we possess enable to find a new role in society? I don't want us to become shunted to the edges of society, reduced to antiquarian curiosities. We've been part of life here since the Romans, or even earlier, and I don't want that to end."

"And some of the Governors disagree with you?"

Mr. Gray hesitated. Weasel spoke up, "Father insists they argue over matters of substance - to me it sounds like they are arguing about overly subtle points."

Mrs. Gray glared at her oldest son for his impolite language. "Subtle points of difference may be the most contentious. I tell Mr. Gray to remember all the Governors desire what is best for the school-"

"But we must be careful to find the proper balance," Mr. Gray finished. "Everything we do today has consequences for our future."

The discussion at the table turned more general over new discoveries. In his reading of muggle papers Weasel had come across a report that a Samuel Morse in the United States had announced improvements on Joseph Henry's method of sending an electrical signal over a wire. The American predicted that in a few years it would be possible to send news across a nation, and perhaps across an ocean, in a matter of seconds. Several at the table expressed a certainty that such a thing must be impossible. Without committing to whether he thought the idea possible or a hoax Mr. Gray commented it would be very good for business if such a device could be invented.

Later, as they waited for the next course, Mr. Gray turned to Charles Potter with an amused smile, "I heard your seeker had some trouble in the last game."

"What happened?" Mr. Prince asked. Elizabeth sketched the outline of events. "Natives… Can't play civilized games. Shouldn't be allowed to try," the young wizard snorted.

"He plays very well!" Weasel interjected, offending Mr. Prince with his impertinence. "I feel sorry for the poor fellow. I've never seen him receive an owl."

Basil spoke up, "He doesn't read or write, but he talks with his relatives all the time."

"If he can't read or write, what is he doing at Hogwarts?" Mr. Prince continued. "Have standards gone so low?"

"Literacy is not the only mark of intelligence," Mr. Potter pointed out. "He speaks five languages, how many do you speak?"

Mr. Prince said nothing and simply looked annoyed.

"Mr. Potter's father sponsored him at the school," Mr. Gray explained.

"The professors have been testing him orally, his memory is amazing," Charles reported. "And Basil is working to help him read and write."

Basil spoke up, "Can he stay with us next summer?" he asked his parents. "He can't go home and needs a place to live until school starts. Please?"

Mrs. Gray looked nervously at her husband. "I don't know… He doesn't eat people, does he?"

"No, Dear," her husband assured her, "even Wilson and his cronies agree that cannibalism is a deplorable practice." He turned to his younger son, "But we need to talk about that later. And, what do you mean, Mr. Jones talks with his relatives all the time? He has family in Scotland?"

Charles cleared his throat. "Mr. Jones' people have magic we don't possess-"

"Nonsense!" Mr. Prince snorted.

"Quite true," Mr. Potter shot back. He returned to answering Mr. Gray's question. "As you know, Mr. Jones is not his name - it is simply what we call him."

"I couldn't begin to pronounce the name your father gave me."

"Even that is not his real name. His people have very powerful magic that only works with what they call the 'true name'. That magic can be good or bad, so they only reveal their 'true name' to their closest friends and family. They also have 'that which they are called' which is how most people know them. Two people who know each other by 'true name' can communicate over a vast distance."

Mr. Gray shook his head in wonder, "Fascinating… I wonder if he would share the technique."

"We've tested that out in Gryffindor. No one has been able to talk across the common room, let alone talk across a continent."

"So he revealed this 'true name' to Gryffindor?"

"He revealed it to some individuals. In his culture it means he trusts those individuals with his life - there are some powerful curses which only work if you know a person's 'true name'."

"Were you one he shared it with?"

"I don't think anyone with whom he shared his 'true name' with would wish to talk about it."

"Pity the magic didn't work when Gryffindor tested it."

"His opinion was that none of us have 'true names', we only have 'that which we are called'."

"Bloody cheek," Mr. Prince muttered.

Fearing that Mr. Prince might feel neglected in a conversation on quidditch Mr. Gray turned the topic back to dueling, "Mr. Prince was house and school champion in his final year," he told Mr. Potter. He turned to the young man from Slytherin, "Mr. Potter is the Gryffindor champion."

Dueling reminded Charles of an earlier statement by Mr. Gray, "You said you placed second in dueling in your sixth year. What happened the next year?"

"When Mr. Bulstrode left I became house champion." He turned to Mr. Prince, "Tiberius Bulstrode, I don't think there were in any Bulstrodes at Hogwarts while you were there." Returning to Mr. Potter, "I left the competition for school champion early in my seventh year. In a preliminary round I saw the woman I was going to marry for the first time," he nodded his head toward Mrs. Gray, "and could not put a curse on her."

Anne Gray laughed, "And this is why he says he lost to a fourth year Hufflepuff."

"It is quite true," her husband insisted.

"How could you have never seen her before?" Mr. Prince couldn't understand. "You must have passed in the halls or seen her at meals a thousand times."

"Your eyes may pass over someone a thousand times before you actually see them. I've no idea how many times I might have passed Miss Fletcher in the halls of Hogwarts or seen her during meals. But I vow the first time I really saw her was when I faced her at the other end of the dueling field and I knew she was the woman I was going to marry. I could not raise my wand against her."

Mrs. Gray laughed, "My husband believes in the importance of first impressions, no matter how slowly they arrive."

"I still say your eyes may pass over someone a thousand times without truly seeing them." He turned to Mr. Prince, "Do you recall the first time you saw Elizabeth?"

The young man seemed confused by the question, "First Night, when she was placed in Slytherin, of course."

Basil spoke up, catching Mr. Potter's attention, "Do you recall the first time you saw my sister?"

Mr. Potter chuckled, and Elizabeth felt a small pang of fear in her stomach. "Oh yes," he told Basil, "I recall my first meeting with your sister very well."

"When was it?"

Elizabeth took pride in the kick she delivered under the table. It was a wonderfully nuanced kick. Too light might have been flirtatious. Too hard might be perceived as a threat. Her kick said, "Please don't say tell the truth. Don't embarrass me in front of my family."

Charles cleared his throat, "It was my first day at Hogwarts. I had arrived alone and not knowing anyone. Miss Gray was the first person to speak to me. She said-"

Elizabeth's second kick was much harder and lacked the subtlety of her first effort. It commanded, "Close your mouth or you will learn what real pain is all about."

Her father turned sharply towards her, "Lizzy, that is the second time you've kicked me. What are you doing?"

Charles figured out exactly what she was doing. He strangled a laugh and continued. "My first impression of Miss Gray was that she was the most beautiful girl I could remember seeing."

Elizabeth started to give him a smile for the compliment, but he continued speaking. "Of course, you must recall that my family had been living in a remote area for several years. Most of the girls I'd seen smeared themselves with animal fat and decorated themselves with mud." The smile died on Miss Gray's lips, but the answer had distracted her father from his question about the kick and for that she felt grateful.

After dinner Mrs. Gray and her children went to the parlor. Mr. Prince might have stayed with Mr. Gray - but George Gray urged him to go into the parlor, saying he needed to speak to Mr. Potter. Elizabeth interpreted her father's words as indicating he wanted Mr. Prince to have more time to speak with her. But Mr. Gray actually had questions for Charles Potter once they were alone. "Your father has a fine reputation as a scholar."

"I am pleased to hear that… When he started his research years ago he imagined he could describe the world's wizarding communities in a few years. He found that the longer he studied the less he seemed to know - or rather the more he appreciated the vastness of the field and how long it would take to study it properly and he is often discouraged."

"I am sorry to hear he feels that way. His books contribute a great deal to our knowledge… But I have a question. As you know Mrs. Pilton holds the position as head only on an interim basis. The Board of Governors cannot agree on a candidate who will receive the necessary support to be named permanent head. Given your father's reputation I would like to speak with him about his views on the school and education for the wizarding community." Mr. Potter's expression suggested he wasn't certain why Mr. Gray might be interested in his father's opinions. "Several of us on the Board want a candidate for head of school who might be able to unite the Governors. I do not promise I would put your father's name forward, but I believe he has the stature to achieve broad support were he suitable. It is with that in mind that I would wish to discuss his views on the future of Hogwarts."

Charles looked thoughtful, and deliberated before giving an answer. "I am honored that you would consider my father for the position. I do not think it would be practical, however. First, he has his heart set on this final expedition and I don't think he could be happy with anything which would require him to give it up. Second, while I love my father I know his strengths and his weaknesses. He lacks the skills in organization and administration necessary for such a position. My mother always helped keep the larger perspective before his eyes when he wanted to pursue a point of minutia. With her death it has fallen on me to assume the role… I love my father, but don't think administration fits his talents. And finally, I am a little surprised the Board doesn't simply offer the position to Mrs. Pilton."

"The woman is marginally competent - at best. The school needs a firm hand."

"Then, again, I fear my father is not the man you desire. He has the patience to wear down any obstacle or find away around an obstruction, but firmness and confrontation make him uncomfortable."

"A pity," Mr. Gray murmured, still not giving up on the idea entirely. "I am surprised your father wishes to go forward with a final expedition. Will you take your mother's place for herbology?"

"No, having worked closely with my mother I started strong at Hogwarts in the subject. But removed from her presence I slipped to a solid position in the middle of the class. That will be the task of two Durmstrang witches who accompany the expedition."

Mr. Gray continued to talk with Charles about his father for half an hour, still hoping to determine if the elder Potter might be a suitable candidate for headmaster at Hogwarts.

* * *

Munin provided little in the way of details on the clandestine Governor's meeting, and Mr. Gray determined to watch Cruikshank and company more closely. To Elizabeth's discomfort Mr. Prince came to another family dinner before she returned to Hogwarts. While she had assured her friends that her parents would put no pressure on her in regard to potential marriage partners she felt her father came close to violating that trust. While she didn't mention her feelings on the subject to her father, she did share a piece of intelligence from the trip to Hogwarts for First Night.

"Miss Honig mentioned that Miss Cooper told the Sisters her grandfather is a wizard. Miss Cooper claimed he is a powerful wizard who left the community to marry her grandmother. He's a greengrocer at Covent Garden."

"I can't believe a powerful wizard would be employed as a greengrocer and suspect he may have exaggerated his abilities to his grand-daughter. Still, I will confess a powerful curiosity about Miss Cooper and how she ended up in Slytherin… Shall we see if we can find some oranges?"

"It would be a nice day for a ride to Westminster."

Finding a particular vendor among the many crowded around the piazza took the pair half of the afternoon, but they persevered. Nothing in the shop suggested wizardry to Elizabeth, except perhaps for it being cleaner than some of the other shops and stalls along the street. She looked around, wondering if Sarah would be there, but didn't see the third year student. Over to one side an older man unloaded oranges. Elizabeth nudged her father and directed him to the orange stacker. She couldn't tell if there was an eye under the large black patch, but the scar along the side of his head had the greenish tinge of a nasty curse.

Mr. Gray approached the older man. "Mr. Smith? I'm one of the Board of Governor's at Hogwarts. I believe you sent in the application for Sarah's admission?"

Mr. Smith nodded warily, "Is there some sort of trouble?"

"No, nothing wrong. I had been curious how she heard of the school, and how the letter came to be sent. It seems she mentioned to another student in passing that her grandfather was a wizard who had given up magic to live among muggles."

The old wizard's lips tightened in the corners. "Aye, that's true. Anne wanted no part of my life, and I gave up my world for hers. She died five years ago. But I've stayed on here. My daughter, Sarah's mum, and son never showed a bit of magic. When I saw Sarah had the gift I wanted her to have a choice."

Mr. Gray was startled to notice a small, silver locket at the older man's throat. "Elizabeth," he ordered. "Find some vegetables for dinner. Let me speak with Miss Cooper's grandfather."

Twenty minutes later, purchases in hand, Elizabeth and her father climbed into their carriage. "It's a wonderfully romantic story!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I can't wait to tell it to Vivien."

"It is a wonderful story," he father agreed. "It may even be partially true. But you weren't here and you did not hear it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you a little story. When I was a small boy, before I went to Hogwarts, there was a string of grisly murders. Muggles killed, body parts cut out; it appeared to be a nasty bit of dark wizardry. A young wizard accused three older, well-respected wizards of the crime. Two of them were highly placed members of the Guild. They chose to ignore him, but he raised such a row that finally one of them challenged him to a duel. One of the surviving two then challenged the young wizard. Within a week all three of the older wizards were dead in duels, and the young wizard disappeared and was never seen again.

"And that young wizard is Sarah's grandfather?"

"I never said that," her father said smiling. "The older wizards had some powerful friends and family. A charge of murder was leveled against the young wizard and a substantial reward placed on his head. Any witch or wizard who knows the location of that man would be duty bound to report him to the Guild."

"But if he's a murderer shouldn't he be turned in?"

"If the young wizard was a murderer. The killings of muggles ended with the deaths of the older wizards. The duels were fair, at least that was the story I heard. Fair, that is, as far as the young wizard's role in them. I heard that in the third duel the last member of the trio fired early - wounding the young man terribly."

"The grandfather's missing eye and that scar!"

"Perhaps, but after all these years I don't remember how the young man was wounded. The wars left a lot of men all over England with scars. I'd hate to peach on a perfectly respectable greengrocer because of a faulty memory. And so I think it much better to forget this little trip. No true Slytherin would betray the man."

"Can't I even tell Vivien?"

"You will especially keep it quiet from Miss Kestrel. She would sell out her best friend for forty sickles."

"That's not fair. She wouldn't betray me for a sickle less than thirty galleons. But I see your point. Should I tell Deborah that since Sarah's grandfather has chosen to drop out of wizardry she shouldn't mention the story?"

"Only if you can do it discretely. She might have already forgotten the story, and putting too much emphasis on secrecy will only heighten her curiosity. Oh, and when third year dueling championships are held, put a couple shares on Miss Cooper, sometimes dueling ability runs in families."

Two days later Elizabeth and her brothers returned to Hogwarts for the winter term.

* * *

Peninsular Campaign - with England too weak to directly attack France on the continent they supported the insurgents on the Iberian Peninsula. It was the struggle which gave rise to the term guerrilla warfare.

The Duke = Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington. As head of the Tory party and Prime Minister he did his best to keep the much-needed Reform Act of 1832 from passing until the support of King William IV helped bring it about. Despite his disdain for the idea of greater democracy he maintained some personal popularity for his service to Britain. In the 1820s several classes of Hogwarts' students saw almost the entire incoming body of wizards named either Arthur or Horatio (for Horatio Nelson).

The Emperor = Napoleon Bonaparte

Forty sickles… Sickles are silver and I hope readers recognize the forty pieces of silver reference.

Joseph Henry transmitted a signal over a mile of wire in 1830. In 1835 Samuel Morse devised his code and made it possible to transmit messages via the electronic signals.


	13. Winter Term Begins

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Winter Term Begins  
**

In the second week of January Elizabeth and Robert finally found time to compare their Christmas breaks at a late breakfast in the Great Hall. After discussing their family time the topic became quidditch. January, of course, was far too cold to play quidditch: too cold for anyone in their right minds to even consider practice. Which did not stop Elizabeth and Robert from conspiring to inspire, cajole, or threaten their teams out for an informal game.

"Did I hear you say quiddich?" Mr. Potter asked, sitting down at the Slytherin table to join them. "You look lovely this morning Miss Gray, although I think I preferred you in the striped shirt. Oh, Mr. Fletcher, watch your shins. She has a little trouble aiming her kicks."

Elizabeth caught Mr. Potter fairly on the left shin with her toe, but tempered the kick enough that he just grinned back. "Robin and I are thinking we might get our teams out for a practice game the last weekend in the month."

"Sounds like fun, but you may have trouble fielding two teams. Gryffindor could use some practice also. The weather will be cold and some players may need to rest… Can Gryffindor players rotate in to relieve anyone needing a break?"

Elizabeth fell silent, she really wanted this to be a game between Hufflepuff and Slytherin, but before she could politely decline the offer Robert stuck out his hand for Charles to shake, "A fine idea."

Elizabeth heard a familiar voice over her shoulder, "And what are the three of you plotting," Miss Fowler demanded.

"Miss Gray and Mr. Fletcher were discussing a quidditch session for Hufflepuff and Slytherin, and Mr. Fletcher has graciously allowed Gryffindor to participate."

Rose frowned, "Have you set a date?" she asked Robert.

"The last weekend of the month."

"You're all quite mad, you know."

"Most definitely," Elizabeth agreed, grateful that Rose hadn't asked for Ravenclaw to join.

"Ravenclaw will, of course, be there. What time will the practice game begin?"

"I don't recall an invitation being extended to Ravenclaw," Elizabeth told her coldly.

"Nonsense, if the other houses are holding practice Ravenclaw must be there."

"Eight-thirty," Robert told her.

Elizabeth said a short prayer that is would prove too early for the Ravenclaw captain.

"We'll be there," she promised.

* * *

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and tried to identify the source of the odor which had suddenly permeated the Slytherin Common Room. To her great surprise it appeared to emanate from Turk as he emerged from the men's wing and headed for the door to the hall.

"Stop!" she commanded and went to look him over. "Where are you going?"

"Library."

"To the library?"

"Yes."

"And you wish me to believe that?"

"It's true!"

"Will you be seeing someone there?"

"Always students in the library."

"But you are freshly shaved and have brushed your hair."

"So?"

"Good grooming, while a virtue, suggests you are hoping to see someone there."

"Maybe."

"Where did you get the cologne you have doused yourself with?"

"It's Mr. Philpott's."

"First, you put on too much. You must go wash it off. Second, you must not - under any circumstances - wear Mr. Philpott's cologne."

"But it's --"

"If there is any chance you might run into anyone, do you really want the smell of Mr. Philpott on you?"

A look of fear crossed his features and Turk hurried away.

* * *

With cold keeping students indoors all breaks from study took on greater importance to the student body. Rose Fowler circulated a petition asking that waltzes be permitted at the monthly balls. When she presented the petition to Mrs. Pilton the Head looked it over and then returned it to Miss Fowler, "I sympathize with your desire. However, the school policy rests on tradition and decisions by the Governors as they comprehend the desires of your parents. If you can present the Governors with a petition signed by parents it will go much further in changing the school's policy."

A dejected Rose returned to Ravenclaw where one of the witches with whom she shared a room asked, "What did she say when you gave her the petition?"

"She said there was no way in hell the rules would change."

A small number of students were interested in discussion groups and book clubs. Their numbers often swelled slightly during winter term as weather kept students from Hogsmeade or enjoying the grounds of the school. Announcements sometimes appeared on house doors proclaiming an upcoming debate and inviting students to attend. Students were seldom so desperate for entertainment that they went to the debates, but a parchment proclaiming the topic for a proposed debate in February drew attention, "Resolved: Magic Does Not Exist." Elizabeth and Vivien studied the document after returning to Slytherin from dinner.

"I suspect it will be a farce," Miss Gray suggested.

Vivien studied the names of the debaters, "The two arguing for the proposition are from Ravenclaw. We should not rule out the possibility they are simply mad."

"Insane or a farce, it might be worth listening to in either case."

Although all her charges had graduated to the open portion of the dueling club sessions Elizabeth still attended the meetings. Her status at the club was not clear, she served as something of recording secretary. She bore no official title, but sat with the Professors during the meetings.

After preliminary announcements Professor Sauberkehren asked if any students had challenges to issue. Two fifth year Gryffindor wizards, who had never gotten on well in their shared room, could usually be counted on for a duel. A fifth year Ravenclaw witch challenged a sixth year Hufflepuff witch to a duel for an unstated reason - rumored to be a sixth year Ravenclaw wizard. A third year Ravenclaw wizard challenged Mr. Baddock to a duel on no particular grounds but more to celebrate the fact they had reached the open session of the meeting. As Elizabeth recorded the information Miss Cooper stood.

"I challenge to Augustus Bulstrode to a duel. He has insulted me. He has insulted the Slytherin quidditch team. He has insulted the entire human race."

Professor Sauberkehren turned to the fourth year Slytherin to see if he accepted the challenge. Augustus looked slightly puzzled as well as being clearly angry, "I don't want to dirty my wand on a mistake like that. But I accept. I demand to know, however, why I am charged with insulting the human race."

Sarah hurled her answer back at him, "You draw breath, and you are ugly."

The first duels were fought cleanly. Mr. Baddock and his Ravenclaw rival laughed as they shook hands and congratulated each other on their first duel. Other duelists met the demands of etiquette and shook hands at the conclusion of their competition, but Elizabeth had come to doubt the effectiveness of duels for settling problems between individuals.

There was a tense moment as Sarah and Augustus took the field. Clearly neither wished to bow to the other. Professor Sauberkehren drew a sigh of relief, "If you cannot conform to the rules you may not duel. Return to your places."

Tight-lipped Sarah made a barely acceptable bow in the direction of Mr. Bulstrode. She managed a small bit of pleasure in the pain bowing to her obviously caused him - bowing to her acknowledged her existence.

The professor's sigh of relief turned to a sigh of resignation as he stepped back from between the two. The two assumed the 'wands down' position. The Dark Arts professor glanced back and forth between them, "Now!"

Sarah's wand came up quickly, _"Incendio!"_

Those who knew the curse gasped as, at the other end of the dueling field, Mr. Bulstrode's clothing burst into flame.

The fourth year rolled on the floor, screaming in pain, as Elizabeth and Professor Thomas extinguished the flames. Owl and three Galens came running to the front of the hall. Two were fumbling in their bags for burn salves even as they ran and a sixth year Hufflepuff witch tried to remember the proper charms for burn victims.

Professor Sauberkehren ordered Miss Cooper to report to Mrs. Dalyrumple to be caned. "I will review if you are allowed to be in dueling club at all," he threatened as he sent her to the housekeeper.

The prompt work by Elizabeth, Professor Thomas and the Galens made it possible for Augustus to leave infirmary at noon the following day. His looks, which had not been good to begin with, were not improved by the eyebrow which had been burned off. Uneven patches had been singed in his hair and it had been cut short so that it might grow back evenly.

Quite unknown to himself, and perhaps not even precisely identified by the witches of Hogwarts, Mr. Bulstrode had become very popular among the women. The smaller wizards he bullied into inviting his sister to the school balls and putting their names on her dance card realized that if they were already taken for every dance at the ball they would enjoy a sort of immunity from the hulking bully's threats. Young wizards begged to be allowed to place their names on dance cards and even young women who often found themselves without determined partners at the start of a ball, who had to take the floor with another witch for some dances or hope a wizard might invite her onto the dance floor, found themselves with full dance cards.

Fourth year Gryffindor 'Alfie' Longbottom decided to meet the threat of Mr. Bulstrode with a different strategy, it was one fraught with peril but if he succeeded he would be rid of the bully forever.

Mr. Bulstrode required more time than usual to fill his sister's dance card. It seemed that every young wizard to whom he graciously offered the opportunity to put his name on Livia's dance card begged off with the excuse that they'd already committed to every dance. He had begun offering a standard threat to each wizard who offered the excuse. Mr. Bulstrode would be at the ball and watching the young men. If they weren't on the floor for each dance…

Mr. Bulstrode did not offer a specific threat. He let each young man fill in the thing he feared worst for himself.

Alfred Longbottom's time came as he left the library. Mr. Bulstrode had taken up a position outside the library doors, waiting for victims to emerge. The bully greeted the Gryffindor warmly, "Alfie."

"Augie."

"How're classes?"

"Going fine."

"I was wondering; have you filled your schedule for the ball?"

"No, I haven't."

Mr. Bulstrode's eyes gleamed, "My sister's card is not yet full. I'd like you to take a dance. I hope you won't disappoint me. I don't like to be disappointed." His voice took a hard edge during the final sentence.

"Certainly," Alfred agreed. Augustus smiled and handed him the card. Mr. Longbottom spoke again as Mr. Bulstrode found a pen to hand to him. "Has anyone asked to escort her to the dance?"

"No."

"May I be allowed?"

Augustus smiled warmly, "Certainly… You realize, of course, that it doesn't excuse you from a dance."

"Absolutely, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Mr. Bulstrode couldn't believe his good luck.

"I see there are several dances still open on her card," Mr. Longbottom pointed out. "Might I put my name down for a second dance?"

Mr. Bulstrode reveled in the level of fear he inspired in the Gryffindor wizard. "Thank you. Livia would be honored."

"Can I have a third?"

Augustus looked worried. "A third? What--"

"Can I fill my name in for all the open dances?"

Mr. Bulstrode snatched the card away from Mr. Longbottom. "You stay away from my sister!" he warned. "If I even catch you talking to her I'll knock your teeth in!"

"But--"

"No! Stay away from her."

Mr. Longbottom did his best to look crestfallen until he could move safely away from the Slytherin, then he laughed out loud. He didn't know what he would have done if Mr. Bulstrode had agreed. Fortunately the bully had reacted as Mr. Longbottom hoped. Mr. Bulstrode would leave him alone in the future. The greatest problem Mr. Longbottom could see lay in the fact he desperately wanted to share news of his victory with friends. He realized that plan had too many dangers; the story would spread and eventually make it back to Mr. Bulstrode. Or others would try and even a thick-headed troll like Mr. Bulstrode might be able to catch on eventually. Alfie knew he had to savor the victory alone, but it still remained sweet.

The witches of Hogwarts proclaimed the ball a great success. Miss Cooper had not been allowed to attend following the dueling incident and Mr. Andrews had to scramble to fill up the three dances he had asked of her. Turk asked several witches for a dance hoping that it would not be too obvious that he spent most of his time with Miss O'Shaughnessy, but besides dancing three times with the large woman from Hufflepuff he spent the evening, when not on the dance floor, in earnest conversation with her on the side of the hall and the two became firmly established in the general frame of reference as a couple. To the annoyance of Miss Crouch, at the end of the ball Mr. Andrews asked her to convey his sympathy to Miss Cooper with the hope that he could have three dances at the next ball.

On Thursday evening the four captains presented themselves to Sir William to learn what the weather would be like on Saturday morning. He blinked twice and looked thoughtful, "Best call off your practice," he advised them. "Day will be damn cold and snowing hard."

They thanked him politely for the forecast and retreated to a place where they could talk.

"Postpone the game until later?" Rose suggested.

"Ravenclaw doesn't have to be there," Elizabeth told her. "But Robin and I said we wanted a practice regardless of the weather."

"Cold? Snow? Gryffindor thrives on a challenge," Charles boasted. "Well, perhaps thrives is too strong a..." He turned to Elizabeth, "Would that be a noun?"

"No, a verb."

"All right. Thrives might be too strong a verb. But we don't let something like that stop us. Gryffindor will be there."

Elizabeth laughed, "Neither cold nor snow will stop the Gryffindor quidditch team, but I fear a vocabulary quiz might."

Rose shook her head, wondering at the fact that Elizabeth and Mr. Potter, who had usually viewed ignoring the other as the politest they could manage, were actually talking. "Mad. All of you. But, of course, Ravenclaw will be there."

Saturday dawned as Sir William had predicted. The days always dawned exactly as Sir William predicted. It was what had earned him his knighthood. Elizabeth discovered a revolt among her players as she gathered them for play.

"We're not playing."

"Too cold."

"And we need to study," the Weird Sisters informed her.

"You have to play," Elizabeth insisted. "Slytherin can't field a team without chasers."

"This is practice."

"We need to study."

"And we have notes excusing us from play." The three each produced a note, signed by a mother or father, saying that their daughter should not play in cold weather.

Elizabeth ate a gloomy breakfast with the men of the team. She feared it would reflect poorly on Slytherin as a house, and her as a team captain, when they had no chasers. Jeremiah Abbot came along. The first year needed any experience he could get - and time practicing as a chaser might strengthen his game as a keeper.

The remnants of the Ravenclaw team joined them as they went through the door and Elizabeth noted that Ravenclaw lacked one chaser and one beater. The snow had only begun to fall as the two teams trudged towards the quidditch pitch. The Hufflepuffs were already on the pitch, trying to warm up, and finding that exercise did not help. Hufflepuff not only had a full team, but a number of students from the house came to brave the cold and watch. Gryffindor appeared three minutes later, without a keeper and beater.

The four captains stared at each other for a moment, none of them willing to call off the game at this point. Rose slipped her arm in Robert's and announced, "Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will field a team, you two can field another."

Charles frowned, "There is no one to substitute for Miss Gray, that will be difficult for her."

"I can manage," she told them, wondering why she felt pleased he had thought of her feelings, _"It's so unlike him,"_ she reminded herself. "Mr. Abbot can spell me if I get too frozen - although you may need him more to rotate with your chasers. I suggest we put up all four seekers – let them all have equal practice."

_"And end the game a little faster,"_ all four hoped silently. Even Robin, who had brought a full team, might have been willing to call the practice off in the face of the conditions, but none had the courage to be the first to suggest a postponement.

No one played well. Everyone wore multiple layers under their robes, and it wasn't enough. The wind grew fiercer and the snow fell harder as the game progressed. Visibility often fell to near zero conditions. Beaters had to stay virtually on top of the bludgers to keep from losing them in the snow. In the worst moments chasers were forced to work alone, and during the game there were five collisions between chasers – with either one's own team mates or those of the opposing side. The possibility of finding a snitch in a snowstorm drove the seekers almost to despair, especially the Owl whose glasses kept icing over. Elizabeth, who could not leave her position since there was no Gryffindor player to relieve her, felt like she had frozen to her broom. Rose Fowler would appear out of a whirl of snow and put the quaffle through a hoop.

Augustus, without the spell to keep him fastened to his broom, slipped three times while in the game. The beaters rotated more often than any other position, it was important to keep the bludgers from wrecking havoc in a poor visibility situation. Mr. Gutman took his turns as beater as well. The young German had improved since his disastrous first game, and under the circumstances no opposing beaters tried to take advantage of his lack of experience.

Despite Elizabeth's difficulties in stopping chasers she still had better success in stopping them than the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff keepers. Elizabeth guessed that the Gryffindor and Slytherin team possessed a ninety-point lead in the first hour and a half. Like Elizabeth, however, the Gryffindor chasers received little relief. Mr. Abbot allowed each of them a small break, but the first year needed to rest also, and as the game ended its second hour their lead began to dwindle. Late in the third hour the Gryffindor-Slytherin lead had fallen to thirty points, and everyone felt a sense of relief as Edward-William shouted, "I've got it!"

"Weasel! Weasel!" his teammates chanted as the Ravenclaw seeker flew a victory lap around the pitch, the hand holding the snitch raised into the air in triumph.

The other players landed and waited for Robin and Charles to wrestle the bludgers to earth so the equipment could be stored away. As the metal balls were fastened down, however, a snowball flew through the air.

In discussions afterward it was not clear who had thrown the first snowball. In retrospect it wasn't even certain which side had thrown it. But another quickly followed in answer to the first, and then another, and soon the air was filled with snowballs.

Without discussion the pairings for the game continued in the ensuing snowball fight. Slytherin stood shoulder to shoulder with Gryffindor hurling snowballs at their common foes. Slytherin and Gryffindor found themselves even more badly outnumbered on the ground than they had in the air. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had more players to begin with, and the Hufflepuff spectators joined in the snowball fight.

For twenty minutes the snow flew back and forth. Finally, much as they hated to admit it, it became apparent that the smaller team that in terms of snowball barrages they had no hope of winning.

"We need to charge the line," Mr. Potter suggested.

"Augie, on point," Elizabeth ordered. "Mr Potter, it was your idea – you may take his right, I'll take the left."

"The Turk?" Charles asked.

"He's nearly useless," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Hey," Turk growled in protest.

"You know it's true," she shot back. "Too afraid he might hit Brigit," she told Charles "Get behind Augie – at least you can look impressive," Elizabeth ordered the tall Scot.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin students quickly formed a wedge and charged. The snowballs flew thick and fast, but failed to stop the warriors in their charge. The middle of the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff line crumbled before them, as Gryffindor and Slytherin penetrated the enemies' territory but the opposing side quickly reformed their lines and flanked the Gryffindor and Slytherin invaders. The nature of the battle changed from snowball salvos into individual and small group contests as each side struggled to pull the other down into the snow.

Some of the Slytherin-Gryffindor warriors comported themselves valiantly in battle. Elizabeth managed to render two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw _hors de combat_ before going down herself. She had been too busy to notice how others fared in their battles.

Charles Potter also fought the good fight before going down. As expected, the Turk had gone down in a tangle with Brigid O'Shaughnessy. As the two rolled around in the snow it did not appear to be a struggle on the part of either. The Owl had the shame, or honor, of being taken down by Erin O'Shaughnessy. To be taken down by such a wee slip of a girl should have exposed him to ridicule. It was an insult to his manhood. But almost every man there would have gladly traded places with him as he lay there in the snow and the pretty girl sat on his chest and laughed as she rubbed his face with snow.

Augustus Bulstrode stood like a mountain, or some other simile for something which is almost, but not quite,entirely unlike a human being, as two Ravenclaws and two Hufflepuffs strove to bring him down. Elizabeth's cousins, the twins, had him around the legs and pulled as the Ravenclaws pushed. Slowly, like a mighty oak crashing in the forest, Augie went down under the massed attack. The giant Slytherin fell on top of one of Elizabeth's cousins.

Dark Thomas couldn't rise, and Robin was by his cousin's side in a minute. Thomas was in pain and the battle quickly ended, "May have some cracked ribs," Robin called.

There were several offers to help carry Thomas as Robert helped him to his feet, but Robin asked his brother Thomas to help support Dark

Students gathered up the brooms from the quidditch players and the long column of students began to straggle back towards Hogwarts.

Wolf of Gryffindor ran ahead. The African had never experienced winter before coming to Hogwarts and never been out in weather such as he endured that day. His dark skin had nearly turned blue with the cold and several players had marveled that he could remain in the game when in such obvious distress.

As the head of the column reached the school they discovered Molly Dalyrumple standing in the main doorway, flanked by house elves and piles of blankets. She blocked their entry. "Ye'll not go to your houses," she warned them sternly. "I'll not have ye catching your death of the chill." House elves began handing out blankets to the students as they entered. "To the kitchen with ye all. There's a roarin' great fire there and a mug of tea with a drop of Frau Diablo's for ye."

"We may have someone with cracked ribs," Robin shouted from the rear of the crowd.

The look she gave them told them all what she thought of their collective intelligence for playing quidditch on such a day, "Well, take the great fool to the infirmary. Then head for the kitchen. And I see ye, Mr. Fletcher. If you don't go to the kitchen after your mission of mercy I'll come looking for ye."

When Robert moved closer with his cousin Mrs. Dalyrumple discovered Dark was the injured student. 'Mother' Dalyrumple kept track of all orphans and motherless students at Hogwarts and went with the Fletchers to the infirmary, after reminding the others, "Go directly to the kitchen. I'll have the elves list who's there for me."

On another day the students might have argued with the orders to report to the kitchen, but were too cold to fight. And, on another day, the kitchen might have seemed oppressively warm. Today they wrapped themselves in blankets and headed meekly for the heat. Wolf of Gryffindor was already there, huddled on a stool in front of the enormous fireplace with his teeth chattering and holding a steaming mug of tea with both hands to warm them up.

House elves handed out earthenware mugs of tea to the students as they filed in and found places on short wooden stools in front of the fireplace. Before the tea was passed to a student a house elf stirred a tablespoon of Frau Diablo's Patented Warming Potion into each mug.

Little conversation cliques developed among the students as they thawed. The divisions were not always along house lines. One group consisted of women discussing the latest news of London fashions while a number of students discussed favorites for house and year competitions for dueling club honors. Perhaps the largest number discussed the snow ball fight, with various individuals boasting of their own contributions to the battle.

While no one liked the taste of Frau Diablo's it seemed that whenever it was added to a medicine some males would try to show off by drinking a huge mouthful of whatever liquid to which it had been added. A large enough swallow could actually cause steam to gush from the drinker's ears. Some of the witches watched in amused fascination as wizards drank large mouthfuls of the tea.

"Look at that!"

"There must have been six inches of steam coming out of his ears."

"I had more coming out of mine!"

"No you didn't!"

"Yes, I did!"

"How could you know?"

"Watch me."

"That wasn't very good."

"Let me try again!"

Elizabeth shook her head sadly. Parents sent their children to the finest wizard's school in the world and they argued like five-year olds over who could ingest the largest amount of flaming hot liquid? Flaming hot liquid… Elizabeth had an idea, "I will wager six galleons that Mr. Potter can drink three tablespoons of Frau Diablo's in one swallow. He can do it pure – not mixed with anything else."

"Impossible!" someone shouted.

"No one can do that."

"It would kill him," another called.

"I've got three sickles that says he can't."

"Who said that," Elizabeth demanded. "Will someone keep track of the wagers? Bishop? Would you tally up who wants to bet, and how much?"

While the lanky Hufflepuff keeper recorded names and bets Charles Potter managed to pull Elizabeth to one side. "What are you doing? And I don't recall agreeing to any sort of foolishness like this."

"I'll give you half the profits."

"You're missing the point."

"Sorry, what's the point?"

"That you can't simply dictate what another person will do!"

"Why not?" She laughed as he darkened with frustration. "Mr. Potter, you can do it. I saw you eat the vind-a-whatever. If you can eat that you can drink the Frau Diablo's."

"It was called vindaloo, and still don't see why I should."

"If you won't do it for the money, will you do it to prove to all you have a mouth insensitive to pain?"

"That seems like a poor reason indeed."

"Then will you do it as a substitute for jumping off London Bridge? I have a memory of you offering to do anything to repay me for the dinner you owed me -- after you had taken me to a place where I found nothing edible."

He sighed, "It appears that I owe you. You really think I can do it?"

She nodded. "I'm certain of it."

The entire six galleons Elizabeth had wagered were covered by the time they finished talking.

Rose Fowler called for a clean mug and carefully measured in three tablespoons of the warming potion, then handed it to Mr. Potter.

Charles swirled the contents of mug, then sniffed it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he swirled the potion again. He took another breath, and tossed back the Frau Diablo's. He stood for a second as if shocked. A Ravenclaw wizard who had bet Charles could not drink the potion grabbed the mug and looked to make certain it had been emptied.

And then Charles Potter briefly vanished. A cloud of steam began to grow around him, becoming thicker and thicker as it seemed to emanate from every pore until the steam obscured his form and finally he completely disappeared from view in the mist. Several wizards and witches looked at each other in fear, afraid they had been witnesses, and perhaps participants in, the death of the Gryffindor quidditch captain. After almost half a minute the cloud began to dissipate, and Charles Potter stood as he had a minute before – except for the fact he had let the blanket drop from his shoulders.

"Whooo," he managed to gasp and ran his right hand over his left sleeve, then his left hand over his right. He felt the robe on his chest. "I'm dry!"

There was a minute of stunned silence in the kitchen.

"How did he do that?" someone asked.

"Let me try," another demanded.

"Give me some!"

In a couple minutes three wizards were rolling on the floor in agony, convinced their tongues would never work again – and none of them having managed to swallow a single spoonful. Several other wizards, and two witches, who had wanted to imitate Mr. Potter's feat looked at their comrades writing in pain and decided against trying.

Rose looked sharply at Elizabeth, "What hold do you have over Mr. Potter that he would risk himself for you?"

"What do you mean? Mr. Potter is fine."

"But you couldn't have known that he would be… Or could you? And why did he go along with your suggestion?"

"Why he agreed is a private matter between us."

"A private matter between the two of you?" Rose smirked knowingly. "I certainly won't ask for more details."

"We had a bet between the two of us, and—"

"A bet?" Rose laughed, "I am quite certain that is the first time I've heard it called that."

Elizabeth reddened. "A bet was all it was. He owed me a debt of honor, and he has paid his debt in full."

Charles had heard part of the questioning, "Never doubt the honor of a Gryffindor."

"I won't," Elizabeth promised.

"But how did you know he could do it," another student demanded.

"To be honest, I didn't," Elizabeth admitted. "But I knew that I would either be three galleons the richer, or six galleons poorer and free of Mr. Potter if the potion killed him. It appeared to me that I won either way."

Charles glared at her.

"Three galleons?" the Bishop asked. "You bet six."

"I will give half my winnings to the man who made it possible."

"I don't want it," Charles retorted.

"Well, you deserve it."

"I only did it because of our earlier bet."

"Well I'm still giving you half the winnings."

"I won't take them"

"You will take them."

"No I won't."

Weasel butted in, "I'd be happy to take them."

Elizabeth and Charles found something they could agree on as they told him, "No."

Later, as warm but still damp students left the kitchen to return to their houses for dry clothing, Charles whispered to Elizabeth, "Is my debt of honor paid?"

"Paid in full," she assured him.

"So, you'll forgive me?"

"Will you take the three galleons?"

"No."

"Sorry, still can't forgive you."

* * *

**Author's Note** This story may go into hiatus. Last chapter only got three reviews and the labor of writing a chapter a week isn't worth the effort. I won't abandon the story. But I have other stories in my head and will probably take a break to write one or two of them. If I delay this I will probably finish writing the final eleven chapters before I start posting it again, that way even if reviews don't pick up you don't have to listen to me whine about not enough reviews to be worth my time.


	14. The Great Whist Tourney

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but the primary characters from those stories don't appear. I will finish this and hope to not take another break, but anticipate whining if review numbers remain low.

**The Great Whist Tourney**

Elizabeth awoke to the hand over her mouth before Vivien even started to shake her shoulder. Vivien mouthed, "One-thirty," and Elizabeth reluctantly rolled out of her warm bed. In the light of a small candle floating in mid-air they dressed silently and moved to the Common Room.

"Must you wear that black cloak?" Vivien complained

"It's warm, besides isn't the point to not be seen?"

"Yes, but it always gives me a creepy feeling to be talking with a shadow. Remember the plan. I forgot my history text and was too worried to sleep. You graciously said you'd come with me when I went to retrieve it."

"That should get us as far as the history classroom if anyone stops us."

"We won't see anyone this time of night, unless it is your friend the Vampire, and you need only smile at him. No one goes into the hallways past the history room."

Vivien applied the _pas de chat_ charm to their feet and they slipped silently from Slytherin. The occasional torch provided enough light for the trip to the classroom wing. _"Lumos"_ commanded Elizabeth as they turned a corner into unlit territory. Halfway down the hall they found a small alcove, and pulling back the hangings on one side the two proceeded down a relatively narrow flight of stairs.

The stairs ended at what might have been a moderately-sized classroom at one time, now largely filled with crates, trunks, and barrels. "I hate this room more than your cloak," Vivien complained. "Why do they keep all these souvenirs of dead people?"

"They aren't all dead people, it's the property of students and teachers who didn't return to claim it."

"Yes, but dying is the best reason not to return. Besides look at the dates on those crates, even if all those students eloped they're dead now."

Painted on the side of each container was a name and date, printed when the possessions were crated and sealed with curses to keep out any but the rightful family. A Slytherin aptly called Rat had found the dungeon several years ago. He'd returned to Slytherin with donkey's ears on his first attempt to loot the crates. His second attempt resulted in a donkey's ears and tail. Bowing to threats the curse wouldn't be lifted unless he provided an explanation he showed other students his discovery. When they pointed out a number of crates dating to the years of Wizard's Plague Rat ended his thieving ways, at least as far as this room. The room had mostly served Slytherin couples who wanted privacy, but had taken on another function this year.

Squeezing between crates they came to an oak door, probably to what had been the professor's office when this had served as a classroom. Elizabeth knocked twice and a house elf ushered them in to a warm and well-lit room.

Four card players looked up from the table in the middle of the room. The two Ravenclaw wizards beamed at Vivien. "Good to see you," growled one of the Slytherins, "We're down twelve more points on our shift."

Since the Great Clock had not yet struck Elizabeth and Vivien moved to a small table where the house elf had set out tea, coffee, and a few pastries. Vivien took a small cup of tea and moved over to watch the hand play out. Elizabeth took a bite of a dried cherry pastry and thanked the house elf, who simpered and bowed in gratitude. Elizabeth then managed to badly scald her tongue on a sip of hot coffee, but it had the consequence of waking her fully.

"What's going on," one of the Slytherin players complained, "damn house elves have just been bringing tea and toast."

"Don't say 'damn house elves'," Elizabeth scolded. "They don't have to bring anything."

A Ravenclaw tossed a card on the larger table, "They're here to serve us students, at least as long as we don't ask for anything Mrs. Dalyrumple would object to."

"Well, they don't need to bring tea, and it wouldn't hurt you to thank them."

Vivien added her musical laughter to the subject, "The house elves love Miss Gray."

The hand ended shortly after the clock struck two. The Slytherian partners initialed the score sheet and surrendered their chairs to Elizabeth and Vivien. The house elf had departed promptly when the chime rang.

Vivien smiled so radiantly at the two wizards that they practically melted. "Whose deal?" she asked, and they eagerly passed the cards to her.

Elizabeth, a mediocre player at best, felt vaguely honored to sit opposite Miss Kestrel - one of the best players in Slytherin. More than honored, Miss Gray felt deeply grateful to even be allowed to know Vivien. Elizabeth sighed at the beauty of the woman sitting across the card table from her as Miss Kestrel shuffled and dealt. Perhaps the two of them could hold hands as they strolled slowly back to… Elizabeth closed her eyes and shook her head to clear the cobwebs, then she glared at her friend. Whatever charm or potion Miss Kestrel was using to enhance her beauty and the reactions of those around her was far too powerful.

Vivien laughed and complimented and scored points as the game continued. The wizards of Ravenclaw sighed and fawned and adored the blonde witch as they lost points. Elizabeth tried to fight the charm which made her want to join the young men in worshipping her friend and grew increasingly convinced that Vivien was, in fact, cheating. Vivien gathered a trick from the table that Elizabeth felt quite certain the wizard sitting to her left had won. Even more unbelievable to Elizabeth, two hands later Vivien led the queen of diamonds, and Miss Gray distinctly remembered the card being in her own hand as she sorted her cards into suits. Elizabeth looked up to complain about the manner in which her friend played, but Vivien looked so beautiful that Lizzy could not wish any unhappiness on her friend, Vivien's happiness was the most important thing in the world.

In the back of her mind a small voice screamed, "This is wrong!" but at the moment Elizabeth lacked sufficient strength to act upon the voice, and the two Ravenclaw wizards appeared satisfied with being allowed to worship at the altar of Miss Kestrel's beauty.

Slytherin gained sixty-three points in the hour between two and three.

At a quarter until three another house elf appeared with coffee, tea, and pastries. It offered a treacle tart to Elizabeth who thanked her sweetly. The elf responded with the same adulation the wizards showed towards Vivien. A few minutes later a knock sounded on the door and the elf opened the door for the next team of Ravenclaw players.

"What is going on!" Vivien protested as Rose Fowler and a tall witch with a sour face entered the room. "You were not scheduled to play! Where are Mr. Belby and Mr. Chambers?"

"When Miss Quirke and I heard that you were playing we decided that we must be allowed to see you at the table and find out if you were as good as your reputation. We traded places with the two, they will play at five."

When the clock chimed the hour at three the house elf departed and the two Ravenclaw wizards, after finishing the hand and initialing the scorecard.

Miss Quirke wrinkled her nose in disgust on sitting down at the table. "The room is oddly stuffy," she complained, and waved her wand, _"Deliquaro!"_

Elizabeth's head, which had felt like it had been wrapped in cotton, suddenly felt clear.

"I was told Mr. Belby and Mr. Chambers would be here," Vivien objected again. Elizabeth noted her friend looked worried.

The two witches shrugged. "Best laid plans," Miss Fowler commented, "I'm certain they had the best of intentions in regard to playing now. Miss Quirke and I will fill in as best we can."

And it appeared the two witches could fill in very well indeed. After three hands the sixty-three point advantage the Slytherin witches had gained in the previous hour had been slashed to forty-eight points, and Vivien's face was white with terror. Ravenclaw gained another point in the next hand, and the blonde witch was sweating.

Conversation died at the table as three of the four witches played with focused ferocity.

Yet another house elf arrived with tea and toast, and apologized to Elizabeth - assuring her that he had not know she would be there. Rose Fowler dealt what would be the last hand for Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel. Elizabeth couldn't believe the cards she fanned in her hand, easily the best hand she had received all night. Not even Miss Gray could lose with a hand that good.

As the hand played out young Nigellus Black arrived with Miss Honig for the next Slytherin shift.

"Should we let them take your place now?" Miss Fowler asked.

"No!" Vivien declared firmly, "We play out the hand before the next team takes over, those are the rules."

Vivien's hand shook as she initialed the score sheet. Slytherin had gained fifty-two points relative to Ravenclaw in the last two hours. The blonde woman was still trembling as she left the card table with Elizabeth.

"What's wrong?" Miss Gray asked, her concern for her friend outweighing the anger she felt for Vivien's recent actions.

"A bet… I won two galleons if Slytherin gained fifty points while I played, five galleons if we gained a hundred points."

"And your losses would have been?"

"Two galleons if we gained less than fifty, four galleons for less than forty."

"Do you even have two galleons?"

"I was going to pay you back with my winnings! I'll give you both galleons."

"I asked if you even have two galleons."

"You know I don't," Vivien snapped.

"And if you had lost?"

Miss Kestrel hesitated, then admitted, "I'd have asked to borrow more from you."

"You shouldn't bet if you can't afford to lose!" Elizabeth scolded.

"I couldn't lose! Not if they played fairly, I--"

"Played fairly? May we discuss how fairly you played?"

"I cheated within the rules!"

"Excuse me, what does 'cheated within the rules' mean?"

"Did either of the wizards object to anything I did?"

"No."

"Then I cheated fairly. The committee that drew up the tournament rules allowed that."

Elizabeth sighed. "How did you get into such a foolish bet?"

"Because I couldn't lose! Not if they were honest. I should have won four galleons. I'd have given it all to you. But--"

"But they told you Mr. Belby and Mr. Chambers would be playing, and they didn't, so you claim that they cheated. You raised an objection, what does that mean? Is there a penalty for cheating if they other side objects"

"They didn't cheat fairly," Vivien muttered in a sullen voice.

"What does that mean?"

"Technically lying to me about who was playing isn't cheating. Different teams can be substituted if some problem keeps two players from the game. But it wasn't fair."

"You expected fair from Ravenclaw? Why would they have made such a foolish wager? Had it been two more wizards you'd have… Whatever charm or potion you used in there was far too effective."

"You too?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"An ancient family recipe," Vivien laughed.

"Dangerous," Miss Gray muttered. "I'm saying it was too easy, you should have known they would try something."

"They gave me a handi-- You are correct. I should have known."

"A handicap? There was a handicap involved?"

Vivien yawned, "I am tired. I am glad I needn't play again for hours."

"What was the handicap?" Miss Gray demanded.

"Shhh,.. We could meet someone in the hall," Miss Kestrel whispered, pulling the history text out of her robe to provide an alibi if challenged.

"You will explain the handicap to me or I shall scream," Elizabeth threatened.

Vivien sighed in exasperation, "Fine. You were my handicap."

"What? I was your handicap?" Elizabeth looked hurt. "I play that badly?"

"You have such a reputation for fair play that they knew you would not cooperate with anything you didn't think was right."

Elizabeth wasn't certain if she should be pleased at news of her reputation or offended that she could be considered a handicap for a better player. She did feel that Vivien had used her, and had no business offering wagers while relying on the strength of their friendship to make good any debts of honor. Tired, cross, and out-of-sorts she did not speak to Miss Kestrel for the rest of the day.

The whist tournament ran continuously for a week. Miss Kestrel, on the committee to organize the event, scheduled herself to play five times during the week. Elizabeth was scheduled for only one other session on Thursday during the late afternoon with Mr. Philpott as her partner. Keeping the tournament secret from the faculty represented part of the challenge, and if one of the houses were caught it would result in the other house being declared the winner. The house elves represented a minor risk to the tournament. They would not keep secrets from the housekeeper, but unless Mr. or Mrs. Dalyrumple asked directly, "Are students doing anything they should not," the house elves would not volunteer the information.

Playing whist with Vivien reminded Elizabeth she needed to put her own financial affairs in order.

The day after Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel's early morning excursion, as Charles Potter entered the Great Hall for breakfast a Gryffindor fourth year pointed out, "Someone left a book on the table for you."

The notice would not have been required. The book sat atop a plate at the end and side of the table where Mr. Potter generally took his meals. A piece of parchment had been tucked inside the front cover - with a couple inches sticking up. The visible portion of the parchment read, "For Mr. Potter." He smiled as he read the title, "One Hundred and One Curious and Forgotten Spells." He pulled out the parchment and read the message. "I discovered this in my trunk and remembered you had requested to see it. Please read and return at your leisure.  
PS: You are forgiven."

Charles smiled even more broadly and picked up the book to check for a table of contents. As he opened the front cover three gold coins slid out and clinked as they fell onto the plate.

On Wednesday evening Sarah Cooper was allowed to return to the meeting of the Dueling Club, the first time since she had set Mr. Bulstrode on fire. When Professor Sauberkehren asked if there were any challenges to be made a hush came over the students present, wondering if Mr. Bulstrode would challenge the third year. Augustus looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. He would not acknowledge Miss Cooper's presence.

The third year spoke up, "I wish to challenge Mr. Bulstrode to a duel for his insulting and arrogant manner."

The Dark Arts professor turned to the fourth year, "Do you accept the challenge?"

Augustus actually smiled. He wanted to face her again. "I accept."

Several other duels preceded that of the two Slytherins. The Galens checked their potions, just in case, as they waited for the rematch. Students whispered among themselves, ignoring the first duels. The threat of expulsion which hung over Miss Cooper if she repeated her spell had been widely reported. Some wondered if her hatred for Mr. Bulstrode ran sufficiently deep to set him ablaze again. Mr. Bulstrode had somewhat mixed feelings on that subject. He wanted revenge. Being set ablaze hurt tremendously, even with the help he received. But he would gladly spend more time in the infirmary if it meant Miss Cooper being thrown out of the school.

The two took their places at either end of the dueling field. Some of the students in the front row slid their benches back slightly.

They bowed almost imperceptibly to each other and assumed the wands down position. Professor Sauberkehren stepped back from between them and checked right and left. Neither moved, awaiting his signal. "Now!"

Miss Cooper moved faster, she sent a spell at his face, _"Feriro!"_ It was a striking spell, and one usually considered too weak for dueling since the effect was rather like a physical blow, in this case to his left eye. She managed another, _"Feriro!"_ before the large wizard could bring his wand into play, and blood spurted from the fourth year's nose.

_"Frangero!"_ Mr. Bulstrode thundered. He aimed well, breaking her wand arm. A murmur ran through the club, the breaking spell was not allowed in club duels.

"Stop the duel," Professor Thomas called. Galens stood to move forward.

"I don't yield," Sarah shouted, taking the wand with her left hand and firing again,_ "Feriro!"_ It was a lucky shot, hitting again in the left eye and leaving it swollen shut. _"Feriro!"_ her next spell went wide, she had tried to hit him in the right eye, but could not aim as well with her left hand.

_"Frangero!"_ Augustus, in pain and with only one eye working, missed her left arm. He broke ribs. The girl bent in pain, then straightened as best she could.

"I said, stop the duel," Professor Thomas called again.

"No!" Professor Sauberkehren protested. "She does not yield and he deserves his revenge."

_"Feriro!"_ She hit him in the stomach and he gasped for air, but it did little damage.

_"Frangero!"_ He managed to hit her other arm.

"Stop it!" Professor Thomas shouted. "Miss Cooper, yield!"

Unable to move her arms the third year glared defiance at the bully, "I do not yield to trolls."

His next shot broke her left leg.

She wobbled, standing on her good right leg, as Mr. Bulstrode took aim with his wand. _"__Expelliarmus!"_ Professor Thomas knocked the wand from the hand of the fourth year.

Poppy Crouch ran forward to help her friend.

"I do not yield," Sarah gasped through the pain as Poppy and a fourth year Slytherin witch helped her lie down so the Galens could work.

Mrs. Pilton saw Miss Cooper in the infirmary on Thursday morning before she was released. The third year argued that since she had only used an accepted spell in the duel she must be regarded as innocent in the incident. The acting head of the school almost retorted that her behavior had provoked the incident, then reflected that the young woman probably recognized that fact for herself. Instead Mrs. Pilton sighed and patted the young woman's hand, "Dear, choose your battles wisely. There are more problems in the world than you have strength to fight."

"But if it is a battle which I think is right?"

"I said chose well. Does an insult deserve what you have done and suffered?"

Miss Cooper looked thoughtful, "It depends on the insult, doesn't it? There are words which can be ignored… But aren't there things which must be defended?"

Mrs. Pilton smiled, "I don't deny that. My advice was to choose your battles wisely. Weigh the risks and the benefits, and try not to let your emotions rule your brain." She patted Sarah on the hand again, "Be careful child."

The head of the school found Professor Sauberkehren in his classroom between classes. He wanted to believe it was the boggle who castigated him for allowing the duel to continue. "At Durmstrang--" he began to protest.

"We are not at Durmstrang," she reminded him sharply. "You are to set an example to the students by following the rules. If faculty cannot comply we have no business asking the students to obey. She managed to cow the man slightly, finally getting him to accept that he should have enforced the call by Susan Thomas to stop the duel.

At the end of the conversation she asked for constructive ideas on how to deal with the two Slytherins. "I threatened her with expulsion if she broke the rules in the club. He knew that. I am half-tempted to expel the young man. I don't know what to do with the pair."

The Dark Arts professor tried to justify his actions, "I thought that allowing revenge might make them willing to drop the matter."

"I believe that in most cases retaliation will only make matters worse. We need to find another way. I am about to threaten him, should he break the rules again. If you can find a minor infraction in either or both to put them out of dueling club in might eliminate some potential for friction."

In the afternoon, after being sent to Mrs. Pilton's office following an unusually harsh caning, Mr. Bulstrode lay on his stomach in his room, loudly cursing Miss Cooper, frequently extending the rants to Miss Honig for the crime of being Jewish, and occasionally cursing Miss Crouch for treating the other two with anything other than the contempt they deserved for polluting Slytherin.

Miss Gray and Mr. Philpott made it back to Slytherin from their stint at the whist table just before supper on Thursday evening. On the first day of the tournament Slytherin had taken a strong lead. It had melted over the second day and Ravenclaw had taken a small lead on the third day. Since then the scores had remained close, but with Ravenclaw frequently slightly in the lead. Mr. Philpott, a strong player and frequent partner for Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Gray had gained thirteen points on Ravenclaw in their two hours, but their house remained twenty-seven points behind.

On Friday evening the final two hours of the tournament were to be held in the Slytherin common room. The Bishop arrived first. Hufflepuff's Mr. O'Connell carried the stakes. Between the deep purses of the Wells and Malfoy families ninety galleons had been wagered by each side and he did not feel comfortable carrying that amount of gold.

Ravenclaw arrived _en masse_ at seven to watch the final two hours of play. Miss Kestrel and Mr. Malfoy served as the final champions for Slytherin while Mr. Wells and Miss Quirke played for Ravenclaw. Slytherin stood seventeen points behind Ravenclaw. Miss Kestrel and Mr. Malfoy would normally have made such a sum with ease, but Ravenclaw put in their two best players against them. With four skillful players at the table the luck of the deal became even more important.

Elizabeth saw her brother beside Miss Fowler as they arrived. She went to greet Weasel and ask how classes were going and realized the robe Miss Fowler wore looked familiar. "Is that from Kestrel's?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes."

"I thought so. I bought--" Elizabeth noticed that a look of panic had come on Weasel. He begged her with his eyes to say nothing. Miss Gray had been about to say she had purchased two robes there for Edward William. She realized this was one of the robes she had purchased, passed on to Miss Fowler as a gift - without the information of how he had obtained it. "-- or rather, I buy, many of my own clothes there."

Weasel gave her a look of gratitude. She had him now - she would hear the complete story of how he found the book on Welsh herbs.

While the final players continued at whist the two houses enjoyed a small party as they waited news on the final score. At the end of each hand the results were called out and Ravenclaw's lead eroded gradually as the time passed.

Ravenclaw had an advantage of only two points as Miss Quirke dealt what would surely be the last hand of the tournament. There were only a few minutes until nine and the end of the tournament. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Kestrel's hands fit perfectly. He managed to strip trumps. Vivien had signaled a long suit and his final lead crossed to her hand and left her with the lead.

Mr. Wells and Miss Quirke, knowing they would lose the hand badly began to slow the play. They waited before playing cards. They talked of classes. They asked questions of Miss Kestrel and Mr. Malfoy - which were usually answered with, "It is your turn to play a card."

The chime of the Great Clock sounded through Hogwarts as Vivien led again. "We win!" Mr. Wells declared.

"No you don't," Vivien retorted. "We must finish the hand. You will lose."

"The rules say that the tournament ends at nine," Mr. Wells reminded her.

"The rules say that a hand in play will be finished after the chime."

"The rules are designed when the next team takes their seat at the table. There are no next players," Miss Quirke pointed out. "This is the end of the tournament."

"That is irrelevant," Mr. Philpott, who had been listening closely, shouted. "A hand in play must be finished."

"Besides," Vivien added. "Your delay of game represents a form of cheating. You knew you could not win so you refused to play. Slytherin wins on your cheating penalty even if we were to allow your ridiculous claim - which we do not."

Mr. Wells smiled, "We might have delayed the game. Where in the rules of whist is there a rule against slow play? If there is no rule against playing at a slow pace it can not be regarded as cheating."

"You lost," Mr. Malfoy grunted. "Admit it, and pay your debts."

"Bishop!" Mr. Wells shouted, "tell them we won. Ravenclaw is ahead at the end of the tourney."

"The rules are a hand in play must be finished after the chime," Mr. Philpott insisted.

"Only before a change in players," Miss Fowler called.

"They cheated!" a chorus of Slytherins yelled.

The Hufflepuff wasn't certain what to do. "May I see a copy of the rules under which the tournament was played?"

"It wasn't written out," Miss Kestrel admitted.

"Not written out?" the Bishop asked in disbelief.

"We didn't think Ravenclaw would cheat in that manner," Mr. Philpott explained.

"We aren't cheating!" Miss Quirke insisted. "The tourney was scheduled to end at nine."

"The hand must be played out!"

"I rule the bet null," the confused Bishop told them. "You should have written down the rules under which the tournament would operate." He pulled out two leather pouches, each heavy with gold coins, and tossed one to a Slytherin and one to a Ravenclaw.

And all hell broke loose in the Slytherin Common Room as fighting erupted between the two houses. With some of the anger directed against the gangly Catholic Mr. O'Connell crawled beneath one of the heavy tables in the central alcove off the Common Room and pulled his wand to protect himself.

In the perception of Ravenclaw they managed a dignified and orderly retreat. Slytherin saw it as driving out the thieves and cheats. It was twenty minutes after the last of the Ravenclaw's left before the Bishop cautiously emerged and made his own strategic retreat.

At Dueling Club on Wednesday Miss Cooper and Mr. Bulstrode were warned they would only be allowed to use disarming spells should they duel. Should a spell or curse off the approved list for Dueling Club be used they would be expelled from Hogwarts. Should they use a spell or curse other than the disarming spell, even one approved for use in normal club duels, they faced expulsion from Dueling Club and failing Dark Arts. Miss Cooper, the faster of the two, disarmed the fourth year.

The absurdity of arguing that magic did not exist brought out a larger number of students than anyone could remember seeing for a winter term debate. Seven faculty members agreed to serve as judges to declare the winning side.

Mr. Belby of Ravenclaw spoke first. "Fellow students, distinguished faculty, Mr. Ackerley and I present a simple thesis today, but one which is no less significant for its simplicity. There is no magic."

Catcalls and jeers from the spectators greeted his comment.

"Please, let me explain. Should an African savage be somehow transported to our own land, and should that simple native see a steam locomotive, moving tons of iron more swiftly than the poor brute can comprehend, he will surely call the vision magic. But, of course, it is not magic. It is simple physics and the brain of a good English inventor. We need no magic to explain the workings of a steam engine, it obeys the forces of nature."

In the audience, friends of Mr. Jones in Gryffindor added a few raucous calls to the description of Africans.

"The forces of nature are not always known or understood. Once our forefathers imagined that the world stood still and that the universe revolved around that unmoving earth. Copernicus, Kepler, and Galileo changed our understanding of the universe - but did they change the universe itself? No, they did not. They brought understanding where before there was only ignorance. They established the truth of those natural forces which move the universe.  
"This universe rests on these natural laws. Cause and effect represents one of those immutable laws. Any effect we observe must stem from a sufficient cause. That sufficient cause may not be seen nor understood, but our ignorance will not change the necessity of its presence. Our ancestors came across laws of nature that muggles can neither see, nor understand, nor use. The muggles called it magic. To our shame we have accepted their terminology. We call it magic when, in truth, it is no more magic than the gravity which compels the apple to fall straight to earth instead of floating into the sky or falling sideways.

Mr. Belby held the floor for twenty minutes, explaining in greater detail how what Hogwarts called magic represented a force of nature and should be studied as a science. He sat to perfunctory applause and Mr. O'Connell of Hufflepuff, having recovered his composure from judging the whist tourney, rose in defense of magic.

"Mr. Belby speaks of cause and effect," the Bishop told the audience. "He insists that nothing happens without sufficient cause. Yet I find his skepticism oddly inconsistent. He has read Hume deeply, but not well enough. Mr. Hume has argued against magic, but he attacks the very foundation of science as well in his skepticism. Were I to strike Mr. Belby on the nose, and his nose start to bleed, an intelligent person might rightly assume that my blow caused the nose bleed. But Mr. Hume would scold that person for holding an unproven assumption. He would say cause and effect is an illusion we project onto the world. Perhaps Mr. Belby's nose simply spurted blood for some illness or fit of temper.  
"You can not have it both ways, you cannot call for science and doubt its efficacy in the same breath--"

"I never doubted it!" Mr. Belby shouted. "Don't put words in my mouth!"

Most of the judges marked a point against the Pro side of the argument. A few also deducted a point from the Con side as well, Mr. Belby had not questioned the assertion of cause-and-affect and Mr. O'Connell had altered the position of the other side in his presentation.

The Hufflepuff might have been put off the rhythm of his argument by the interruption, or perhaps he was merely poorly organized. He rambled in his defense of magic, asserting that miracles represented proof that affects may occur without immediate cause. "Look to the Scriptures," he concluded. "For if the Lord can turn water into wine then assuredly there is more to the universe than natural laws. And if the transcendent power of God stands outside the natural laws of the universe He created then as assuredly is magic which also stands outside the limits of natural law."

Mr. Ackerley almost salivated at the opportunity to address the Bishop's arguments in his rebuttal.

"Mr. O'Connell needs to study the word proof, for he points to Catholic superstition and labels it proof. The Catholics have yet to find a lie they are unwilling to believe - whether it is stone statues crying tears of blood; the home of Mary lifted into the air by angels and in God's infinite wisdom wafted through the skies to the Balkans, then Recanti, and then the Lord finally found a suitable location in Loreto; or St. Cynog who continued to walk about with his head in his arms after it had been cut off. He offers nonsense and superstition and calls it proof?  
"Students, faculty of Hogwarts, there are no miracles. To work outside the natural laws of the universe is not possible within the universe. None of us have ever seen a miracle. None of us will ever see a miracle. One cannot see what doesn't exist. There are two choices when faced with such stories of what could not have happened. One is to label them fables - either to deceive the gullible into parting with their money or more charitably to think the writer used parable and myth to impart his message. The other choice is to hold some, and I emphasize some, of these stories as those of our ancestors who learned to harness that natural force we so poorly call magic. I emphasize some of the stories for the superstitions the Roman Church taught its parishioners over the centuries transcends all reason.  
"If an occasional true story can be found amid the priestly lies it is because of the men and women who performed what we have called magic. Let us call it magic no longer. Let us study it as we study any other force of nature. Let us learn greater things than our ancestors knew as we come to greater mastery of this force of nature within the physical universe."

Miss Coote of Gryffindor provided the final rebuttal, and worked to find the throat of the other side. "My friends, I will not attack base atheism," she began. Of course, labeling it as base atheism represented an attack, but she had other points to make. "I will, however, point out foolishness and inconsistency hiding behind the masks of science and logic. I will not speak in defense of Popish superstition, but I will accuse the other side of the debate in lacking the very sense of proof they demand of us.  
"Certainly many of the stories which have been told of miracles are nonsense, but the other side of the debate sweeps them all into the dust bin. Many of you have at some point received a leaden sickle or a galleon of Leprechaun's gold. Does the existence of a counterfeit prove that the genuine coin does not exist? How many of the stories of miracles are true, and how many counterfeit? The percentage is not important to my point, to label them all false because they do not fit what a person believes is as much an act of faith as accepting them all because of what one believes--"

"It's not about belief, it's about science," a supporter of Belby and Ackerley shouted from the student section.

Miss Coote raised an eyebrow and nodded her head thoughtfully. "About science… Yes, let us examine their claim to the label science. _I_ do not wish to misrepresent the position of the wizards of Ravenclaw." She looked over at the two, "I understand you to proclaim that science offers the answers to understanding the universe. That through empirical examination, and empirical examination alone, can the nature of everything be truly understood. Faith cannot provide a foundation for understanding the truth around us. Does this represent your position fairly?"

"That is our position," Mr. Ackerley agreed. Mr. Belby nodded in assent.

Miss Coote smiled and turned back to the students, "Then I ask them to prove empirically that science provides the only foundation for knowledge of the universe. Science may examine the physical world it can measure and quantify. It cannot measure, study, or pronounce judgment on metaphysics. To assert that science can do what it, in fact, cannot is not science. Science cannot prove that science provides all answers. That represents a statement of faith, perhaps pure and most certainly simple. To claim that statements of faith are inherently flawed, and then to raise your argument on such a foundation is inconsistent. You cannot both attack faith and build your own argument upon it."

A number of students laughed with Miss Coote, who smiled. "Thank you. I would like to finish with a demonstration of something I do not believe that science can answer. I will request that Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington assist me."

The Gryffindor ghost floated forward, "How may I help you?"

"If you would be so kind to lean slightly."

"But I--"

"Please?"

The ghost's head flopped over onto its spectral shoulder, bringing laughter from the students. Miss Coote addressed the ghost, "Thank you, Sir Nicholas." She then turned to the two Ravenclaw Wizards as the Gryffindor ghost set his head aright, "When science can explain Sir Nicholas I will listen. But if you cannot explain the truth in front of you through science you cannot answer the question of whether there is truth beyond you."

The faculty who served as judges awarded the debate to those who argued against the proposition by a two-to-five margin.

Elizabeth couldn't believe any faculty had been foolish enough to vote for the Ravenclaw wizards and sought out Professor Wood to ask who could accept so silly an argument.

"I was one of them," he told her.

Elizabeth blushed, "I am sorry I was so intemperate with my language. But why?"

"Because I appreciate science. And if the two did not make their case as well as I might like I should point out that the other side did not argue especially well either. Oddly enough Professor Flamel voted with me. The oldest and the youngest faculty members agreed with the Pro side."

"Did he state his reasons?"

"Actually, yes. He found the proposition there is more to learn about magic very exciting. He thinks that in a number of subjects greater study would benefit our knowledge of magic. He asked if we know all the properties of dragon blood, or if we merely repeat what we've heard over the years."

Elizabeth repeated her apology and returned to Slytherin with the other students. The debate had failed to entertain as much as students had hoped. Everyone longed for the return of the sun. Even the boggart in her wardrobe seemed to suffer from the gray days of winter. The dementor which threatened her as she prepared for bed seemed unusually insubstantial and listless. She hoped the creature wasn't ill.

* * *

The outline for this story was written before the necessity room was introduced in the series. Like the later family history of Tom Riddle I decided not to use it when I began to flesh my outline into this story.

Mr. Ackerley makes no reference to the doctrine of Papal Infallibility because the Catholic Church didn't realize this had always been church teaching until the Vatican Council of 1870. (Renamed as Vatican I after a second Vatican Council met in the mid-twentieth century.)


	15. An Engagement of Convenience

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

** An Engagement of Convenience**

Elizabeth sat at in the Great Hall eating breakfast with the Sisters when Munin arrived. He landed on the table and ignored Miss Gray's inquiries as he looked at the plates around him. He seized a kipper from Miss Crouch, who protested, "Miss Gray! Your bird-"

"I'm not her bird."

Poppy still addressed Elizabeth, "Your family's bird has-"

"Are you too ignorant to speak to me directly?" Munin demanded. "I am no one's bird. I am my own creature and I am accustomed to small children being taught their manners."

"You took food from my plate," Miss Crouch complained.

"Yes, I did. Respect your elders. I'm hungry from a long flight."

"But… But, that was rude."

"It is rude to correct your elders. Now, please do not address me unless I address you." The raven turned to Miss Gray. "Do you have any private messages for me?"

"No."

"I shall inform your father. He has news I will not repeat in front of these children, if I do not see you later today it can wait. He shall visit Hogwarts next week to speak with Professor Flamel and will tell you then if we are unable to speak. You are invited to accompany him and take tea with the Flamels. Meanwhile, I am to inform you there will be a dance at your home the Friday before Easter. You should not make any-"

"Good Friday?"

"I don't know that it is better than any other Friday."

"The Friday before Easter is Good Friday. A dance would be inappropriate."

"I don't believe your father allows religion to interfere with his goals. I assume the day was chosen to accommodate the schedule of Mr. Prince."

Elizabeth frowned, but said nothing, and Munin continued. "Your mother did not ask me to inform you of this fact, but the Gardiners have been invited to dinner on Easter following services."

Miss Gray sighed, "Do you ever deliver good news?"

"Not when I can avoid it. Should you wish to reward me for keeping you informed I accept silver."

Elizabeth nodded, "I shall pay you on break after winter term."

The black bird finished the kipper then flew to the Gryffindor table to speak with Basil.

Miss Honig observed the obvious, "The news of a dance seems to make you unhappy."

"My mother and father are throwing young men at me."

"Don't drop them," Miss Crouch advised, "unless, of course, they are heavy. I have heard that young men break easily."

"I am not interested in young men," Miss Gray told them. "Or rather, I am not interested in either of the ones being thrust upon me."

Miss Cooper offered her opinion, "You need a fiancé."

"Pardon me," Miss Gray retorted. "The problem is that I do _not_ wish a fiancé, at least at the present moment."

"My parents did a fine job with Mr. Kerber," Deborah pointed out.

"Is the engagement now official?" Elizabeth asked, hoping to change the subject.

"No. But he writes the most wonderful letters. I am certain the negotiations between our parents are going well."

"I was saying," Sarah reminded them, "that Miss Gray needs a fiancé."

"And I was saying I do not wish one at the moment," Elizabeth reminded her.

The light went on for the other two sisters. "Like Deborah," Poppy commented.

"Wizards didn't ask me to dance," the Jewish witch continued.

"Until Ugly threatened them with his sister," Miss Cooper ended.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, "You're saying I whisper a fiancé to my parents' chosen suitors and they will vanish?"

"Almost a certainty," Miss Honig promised.

"A shield and buckler."

"To save you from unwanted entanglements."

"And should I be asked to provide a name of this protective fiancé?"

"Well, there."

"Is that."

"Problem," the three admitted.

On Thursday Professor Saxifrage asked Elizabeth and Robert to come to her office in the late afternoon, the efficacy of the singing nettles required testing. House elves had woven nettles from each of the three sample groups into small bags.

"Miss Gray, there are some mice in that box under the lilies. Kindly stupefy them and put one in each bag - be sure you don't lose the tag saying which batch of nettles it came from. Mr. Fletcher, the death spell, if you please."

"Isn't that a bit extreme? Shouldn't a weaker spell be used for the first test? The nettles may offer some protection, but not that much."

The professor thought for a moment. "Elizabeth? Your opinion of your cousin's suggestion? I am inclined to try the death spell. Let's see if it holds against the ultimate curse."

"I think Robin's advice should be followed. There is time enough to try the killing curse later if the nettles prove to offer protection against a weaker spell."

"Very well," the professor sighed. "Mr. Fletcher, chose a curse you believe appropriate. But you will kill the nasty vermin after the test. Too many of them out around here eating and into things they should not be."

The initial test proved inconclusive. The nettles offered some protection, but less than desired. Professor Saxifrage wondered if the nettles had weakened through cross-breeding with other species or if their protective properties had been exaggerated in the old literature.

"How do you intend to proceed?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm not giving up yet. I want the two of you to stop by the greenhouse tomorrow after classes. We'll plant another crop."

* * *

"What was the news Munin didn't give me last week?" Elizabeth asked as she strode with her father towards Hogsmeade and the Flamels' rented home. Munin rode on Mr. Gray's shoulder.

"I fear problems with the Governors. Things are not going well."

"Have they ever gone well?"

"I'm serious, Elizabeth. The school is very precious to me and we are at a difficult time. Mrs. Bookbinder was seen visiting the home of old Cruikshank. I've always been able to count on her vote to keep Wilson from ruining things. If I lose her…"

"Perhaps she had an innocent reason for calling on him."

"Then she would have admitted seeing him. She denied it. Claims it must have been someone else."

"Is there a chance she is telling you the truth?"

"Not likely. My information was very good."

"I followed her back to her home after the meeting," Munin explained.

Her father resumed speaking, "I don't want to lose an ally. If I can find a proper candidate for headmaster I think I can rally support and secure some of my other programs for the school as well."

"May I assume that this is why we are visiting the Flamels rather than you talking with him at his office in the school?"

"Indeed. If you will keep Mrs. Flamel occupied with such conversation as you women enjoy I shall interview Mr. Flamel on his ideas for the school and discover whether I find him a suitable candidate to bring before the Governors."

During tea Mr. Gray shared the latest news from China. "Latest ship to dock says there's no threat from a dark wizard. I'm not certain there ever was one, T'ieh-Kuai Li probably just started the rumor to drive up prices."

"T'ieh-Kuai Li?" Mrs. Flamel asked

"Yes, sharp old beggar from what I hear."

"We know him well," Mr. Flamel told him. "Been a friend for many years. You will not find a more honest man in Britain. If he says there was a dark wizard you can be certain there was one. He and his friends are exceedingly powerful wizards, I suspect they eliminated the danger early - before it had a chance to develop fully."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to speak disparagingly of one of your acquaintances. I've not met the man, and at such a distance it is hard to know what to believe."

"As my husband said, we know him well. A wonderful host."

"You've been to China," Elizabeth asked, although the assertion seemed obvious from Mrs. Flamel's statement.

"We have a great deal of time for travel," Mr. Flamel smiled. "We've friends in wizarding communities around the world. I think sometimes we feel more at home in China than here in Britain. Nice to have a place where you can see familiar faces after you've been gone fifty years or so."

After tea Elizabeth, Munin, and Mrs. Flamel retired to the drawing room and Mr. Gray accepted the offer of a small port. Mrs. Flamel stared at the black bird as it perched on the back of a wing chair and hesitantly said something Elizabeth could not understand.

The raven grew excited and fluffed its feathers, then let out of volley of speech that sounded German to Miss Gray, who wished she had not left her translation charm back in her room.

The bird and older woman conversed for a several minutes, until Mrs. Flamel remembered it was rude to leave Elizabeth out and addressed her, "I apologize, my dear, I thought I recognized your friend. He tells me, however, that it was his brother I met. I fear I had little I to tell him about his brother however."

"What was it you were speaking, it sounded like German."

"Saxon," Munin told her. "Good to hear it spoken again."

"I fear mine is rusty from neglect," Mrs. Flamel told Elizabeth. "Nicolas and I do not use it as often as we ought."

"Saxon? Real Saxon?"

"Of course it is real," Munin retorted. "Were is not real it would not be Saxon."

Mrs. Flamel ignored the bird's impertinence and asked Elizabeth about her classes. They chatted for several minutes and eventually the younger woman worked up her courage to ask the question, "How old are you?"

Perenelle laughed, "Have you not heard it is impolite to ask a woman her age?"

Elizabeth blushed, "I am sorry, but I've heard people speak of how old your husband it, yet when I look at him he appears a younger man than my grandfather."

"Thank you. I believe we carry our age well. Have you heard of the philosopher's stone?"

"Yes, isn't that supposed to have the… You have one?"

"Nicolas produced one."

"When… How long… I've heard it requires a very powerful wizard to produce a philosopher's stone."

"Or witch. We are certainly as capable. I fear I can't tell you exactly how long ago it was, we've moved around over the centuries. The styles of dating have changed." The older woman sighed and stared off into space for a moment. "Perhaps the greatest difficulty in creating the stone is the need for a pure heart. It cannot be made for selfish motive or the spell will fail. Nicolas and I had three children. A son died in a plague. Our youngest son had never been healthy and Nicolas feared for him and began the effort. He died before Nicolas could complete the stone."

"And your third child?"

Mrs. Flamel smiled sadly, "Our oldest child, a daughter, I am quite certain she saved our lives."

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow in thought, "I do not understand. Did she help Mr. Flamel with the creation of the stone?"

"No… No, she refused to have anything to do with the stone. She threatened us, told us that if we attempted to use it on her or any of her family she would perform the fidelius charm on her children and we would never see our grandchildren again."

"I fear I am even more confused now. How did that save your lives?"

"The philosopher's stone can be as much a curse as a blessing. We've known several witches and wizards who have created them over the centuries. Some have used the stone on their children, and grandchildren, and their children, and their children... Imagine a young man entering into an illicit affair, with his great-great grandmother… Those families have destroyed their stones and let nature take its course. To use the stone only for yourself… It is a terrible thing to see your friends grow old and die around you. Those individuals who use it only for themselves will, in time, destroy their stones as well. She made us promise to only use the stone for each other. Because of the vow we gave her my husband and I have each other. We make a home for ourselves and stay in a place for several years, but then we move on. I think, should an accident claim either of us, the other would break our stone. Death holds no fear for us. But as long as we enjoy life and have each other for company we stand in awe of what we've seen in our lives and wonder what we may still see."

"And your daughter and grandchildren?"

"We… We moved to France for time. It is a terrible thing to see your grandchildren grow old and die while you still live. It tested the promise we had made, but in time we realized our daughter showed wisdom."

"So, you have lost all track of family?"

Perenelle smiled, "Nicolas and I consider every witch and wizard on the isles to be one of our descendants, and I dare say most of you are."

Munin, who had barely contained his impatience during the conversation, demanded more information on his brother. Mrs. Flamel had nothing else she could tell him, and the discussion went into other topics but remained in English.

It was almost two hours later when Mr. Gray escorted his daughter back to Hogwarts before returning to London.

"Any sort of success in your conversation with Professor Flamel," Elizabeth inquired.

"No," he reported glumly.

"A pity. I thought he might make an excellent headmaster."

"So did I. A most unusual man, deep roots in the past and with a respect for tradition, yet he still keeps his mind open and engages the present and imagines the future." George Gray sighed, "But he remained adamant that he would not consider accepting the position. I argued the school needed him. He refused, said we should offer the position to Mrs. Pilton… We all have our areas of foolishness. I don't know how she managed to deceive him into imaging she is competent."

As they neared the grounds of Hogwarts Elizabeth chided her father for a dance on Good Friday.

He brushed aside the criticism. "I will not hear a word against the idea. It was difficult to find a time between Winter and Spring Terms which fit with Mr. Prince's schedule. The young man is very taken with you, Elizabeth. You will not show any petulance at the dance nor allow religious scruples to keep you from enjoying the evening."

_"If he were truly taken with me he might have found a way to accommodate seeing me,"_ she thought, but did not express her feeling on the subject to her father.

Activity at the Dueling Club went up dramatically for two weeks as students charged one another with grave insults. When a fifth year Gryffindor accused Robert Fletcher with some especially vile comments, however, it suddenly became apparent to most students that the boggle stood behind the insults. The professors kept a strict watch on Miss Cooper and Mr. Bulstrode, looking for an excuse to put either out of the club. While both of them would have appreciated seeing the other removed they saw their own removal as a failure they could not allow and followed the directions they were given on spells and curses. Most of the time in the meetings was given over to practices for the various competitions which would be held during the spring term.

Miss Gray arrived early at the table on Thursday morning and dawdled over breakfast as she lay in ambush. Her victim finally appeared and she moved to spring the trap.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Miss Gray."

"For reasons that I hope not to elaborate upon, I find myself in need of a fiancé during the Easter break."

He looked puzzled, "I don't understand. Why would you-"

"I am hoping you might accept the position. It is only temporary."

The look of shock on his face made it worthwhile. The look of shock and the milk which came out his nose. The shock alone made it worthwhile, the milk represented an additional bonus. After he recovered he managed to demand, "You have to explain that to me… Are you serious?"

"I am quite serious."

He rolled his eyes. "I can not imagine why you need a temporary fiancé, but have to admit I am more curious about the question of why me?"

"I have two sound reasons for selecting you for the position. My first reason is that I figure you'll work cheap-"

"This is a paying proposition?"

"It is."

"Do I have to kiss you?"

"I would rather you didn't."

"Then I'd like more details."

"I have two young men who are interested in me and-"

"You?" he snorted.

She shot him a dirty look, "My father has money, remember?"

He smiled, "It has been known to add charm."

"While they are decent enough I am not interested in either of the two, and think a fiancé would be the best method of discouraging them."

"Is one of them that Mr. Prance who was at your home for dinner?"

"Mr. Prince, and yes."

"He struck me as being as much fun as falling in a mud puddle."

"Mr. Prince is a very fine young man."

"Then why do you need a fiancé? Are you not interested in young men?"

"Mr. Potter, you are quite impossible."

"Thank you."

"And to answer your question, there are many fine young men in the world, present company excluded, of course-"

"Of course," he grinned.

"That doesn't mean I will chase after them all, especially one…"

"As fun as falling in a mud puddle?" Mr. Potter finished.

Elizabeth sighed and nodded.

"And the second?" Mr. Potter inquired, "in case I am called on to fight a duel or anything. Who is my second challenger?"

"My mother's champion, John Gardiner."

"What's his problem? Crossed-eyes? Bad teeth?"

"He is handsome and charming, unlike some young men I could mention - present company included, of course."

"Of course. I am beginning to think you do not like fine young men. Which portion of the equation does your taste find objectionable: the fine, the young, or the men?"

"Mr. Potter, you remind me of the second reason that you are an ideal candidate for the position."

"And that would be?"

"There is no danger of you imagining I have any romantic attachment of any sort toward you. You realize this is a simply a business matter. There is no danger of either of us becoming the object of desire to the other.

"Strictly business."

"You almost sound disappointed."

"I would prefer warmer feelings towards my first fiancée."

"You may save them for your second."

"And, pray tell, what is the going rate for fiancés these days? Are the hours particularly long or the duties hazardous? Am I likely to be challenged to a duel by a young man seeking your hand?"

"Private ball at our home on Friday evening. Church with my family on Sunday morning and Easter dinner afterwards."

"No duties other than dancing with you and a meal with your family. That sounds simple enough."

"Oh, if could you manage, on occasion, to gaze upon me with a somewhat absent-minded but adoring gaze it would add depth of character to the role."

"I see. And in return for my playing a lovesick swain, gazing at you with adoring eyes and hanging on your every word?"

"You have to dress the part. The private ball is for Wizards, it will be a muggle service on Easter. I have seen the dress robe you wear to the school balls. I will buy you a new dress robe. Do you have a good muggle suit for church services?"

He looked puzzled, "What do you mean by a good suit?"

She sighed, "If you must ask the question the answer is obviously no. I will buy you a new outfit for each."

"You think you can buy me for a suit of clothes?"

"Two. And yes, you need someone to dress you correctly."

He was silent for a minute, weighing her proposition.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," she remembered, "we don't mention our little arrangement to my parents."

"As in, they'll think we are actually engaged?"

"As in, they'll think you are just a friend from school I've asked to the ball and to attend services. I'd rather they didn't know about my subterfuge."

He raised an eyebrow, "Very Slytherian of you. But to buy my silence will take a little more than new clothes-"

She snapped angrily, "I won't give you-"

He raised a hand to silence her, "Please, let me finish. I do not know London. I grew up in other countries. There is so much there. You grew up in London. Two days of showing me the sights you think I should see."

"Just taking you around the city?" she asked suspiciously."

"I'll take you out for lunch."

"I've eaten with you, that is no incentive."

"We'll go somewhere nice. Your choice. I owe it to you for that low trick I pulled at Christmas."

Elizabeth smiled, taking someone around and showing them her London was a task she enjoyed. "Mr. Potter, it will be a pleasure doing business with you."

He smiled and bowed, "How could it not be a pleasure? You'll be engaged to the most charming bloke in Gryffindor." He punctuated his point by sticking a finger up his nose.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in mock disgust, "Most charming bloke in Gryffindor indeed. Maybe I should reconsider the Ravenclaw wizards." She almost stood to leave, but remembered a point which had not been discussed, "Do you dance?"

"You've seen me at the monthly balls. Does Miss Kelly truly find me that inadequate as partner that you must ask?"

"Kitty could show better taste in her choice of partners. We will waltz at my home. Do you waltz?"

"Waltz?"

"And your tone of voice says the answer is no."

"Yes."

"Yes, you waltz?"

"Yes, the answer is no, I don't."

Elizabeth sighed. "There is time before break. You will come with me to Hufflepuff tonight for your first lesson."

"Is our arrangement secret here as well as at your parents?"

"Absolutely. First, should it be known too widely it might reach my brother - and then back to my parents. Second, should anyone be foolish enough to believe we were a couple it would surely ruin both our reputations. The animosity between us is too well known."

"Is the animosity so well known that it will look odd for you to take me for a waltz lesson? Can I skip that part of-"

"No, you may not… I'll think of some excuse I can offer for you to go with with me to Hufflepuff this evening. Please arrive at Slytherin slightly before eight o'clock."

Mr. Potter arrived at Slytherin promptly and was soon walking toward Hufflepuff with Miss Gray, Mr. Lennox, and Miss Cooper. Charles caught Elizabeth's eye. He looked quickly to the tall Scott and raised an eyebrow.

Elizabeth correctly understood the question as, "Miss O'Shaughnessy?" and nodded her head yes.

"It seems odd to see you without your two friends," Mr. Potter commented to the third year.

Miss Cooper blushed and said nothing.

"Her turn," Turk grunted.

"Turn?"

"It is easier to find women for the dance evenings than men," Elizabeth explained. "More men are always welcome, but there are limits on the women from other houses who may attend." She could have added, "If both Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch came it would require two of Mr. Andrews to keep them both happy."

Elizabeth explained at Hufflepuff that Mr. Potter had just learned of a dance he would attend during the Easter break, and that she had suggested he come to Hufflepuff for lessons. It seemed curious that Mr. Potter would confide his problem with Miss Gray, but additional men were always desired and several witches offered to teach the Gryffindor quidditch captain how to waltz. Miss Gray announced she would assume tutelage Mr. Potter, to the disappointment of three Hufflepuff witches.

"You will hold your partner in your arms," Elizabeth told Charles. "I will instruct you on where to place your hands in a moment. I will also show you the most basic of steps. When waltzing your fundamental responsibility, as the man, is to lead. The fundamental duty of your partner is to follow."

"I lead, she follows," he repeated to impress it on his mind. "I might enjoy that. Lead her where?"

"We will come to that. Since, however, you are unaccustomed to the dance on our first attempts I will lead and ask you to follow until you understand the steps."

He grinned, "You seem like a woman with a great deal of practice leading."

"And you are obviously a man who does not like to follow."

Decidedly clumsy on his first efforts to waltz, by the end of the evening Mr. Potter had progressed to the point where he attempted to lead and a partner would only be slightly embarrassed to be on the dance floor with him.

"You made good progress for your first time," she assured him. "Fortunately we have almost all of March before Easter break."

March passed without major incidents. At Dueling Club practice towards the formal competitions took the majority of members' time. Miss Cooper and Mr. Bulstrode could invariably be counted on for a duel. Professor Thomas or Professor Sauberkehren always imposed severe restrictions on what curses might be used. The two carefully followed the directions, hoping the other would fail and be put out of the club. Miss Cooper was much the faster of the two, but the huge fourth year could endure a great deal and was more often declared the winner. Professor Wood thought he captured the boggle and marched the Slytherin second year at wand point to the Dark Arts room only to discover that the young wizard shouting insults had simply been a foul-mouthed and obnoxious little git and not the boggle trying to provoke a fight.

At the final ball of the winter term Mr. Potter asked Miss Gray for the last dance of the evening. He chatted with her about London plans as the students left the hall. They had just separated to return to their respective houses when she heard him call, "Miss Gray!" She turned and he threw a small leather bag in her direction, "Catch!"

Her instinct was to catch the object, but she knew the content even before she heard the clink of three gold coins when she caught the small packet. Charles meanwhile had turned as hurried off towards Gryffindor. She stamped her foot, "You are NOT forgiven!" she shouted at his back.

Miss Gray arranged to take Mr. Potter shopping for clothes the afternoon of their arrival in London. They began with a trip to Diagon for a dress robe. She took him to Kestrel's. "I need a dress robe for him," she informed Vivien's mother.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

"We, ah, have been making various wagers at school and I owe him a robe."

Mrs. Kestrel said nothing, but reflected, _"Clothing as a wager? How very odd."_ She told Charles to stand behind a screen and directed a house elf to take his measurements. "I will bill your parents?" she asked Elizabeth.

"No, it is my debt. I will pay you today… I am in something of a rush. Would it be possible to have it by this Friday?"

Mrs. Kestrel frowned, "I have many orders which need to be finished before Easter. But, for you I will have it done." It was not entirely true, most wizards and witches had ordered any new finery early. But Elizabeth represented a faithful customer and she wanted her daughter's friend to believe Kestrel's would provide extra service as necessary.

"Thank you. What should I know about fashions while I was gone? Vivien told me that you wrote sleeves were even fuller?"

"Indeed. It has reached a point where they are nearly absurd - and such a waste of fabric. The full mantle is going out of fashion . The shawl-mantlet is becoming more the style – although some women prefer a burnous, which features a hood for warmth."

"Oh dear, and you're so busy I don't—"

"For you, there is time. Step behind that screen and I'll have an elf see if your measurements have changed."

Charles had listened in to the conversation. "Are you always such a slave to fashion?" he called.

"Is there something wrong with dressing in the current year?" she shot back.

"And if the style was to paint your face blue?"

"You are simply being absurd."

"No I'm not. You are told 'bigger sleeves and a shorter mantle' and your immediate concern is to change your clothing."

"I do not see that my clothing has anything to do with you."

"A fiancé shouldn't be interested in what his intended bride will wear?"

Elizabeth inhaled sharply.

"Oh, congratulations are in order?" Mrs. Kestrel asked.

If Elizabeth had access to a heavy weapon at that moment she might have attacked Mr. Potter. "We are _not_ engaged," Elizabeth hissed. "Mr. Potter suffers from a rare form of insanity which makes him spout random phrases and imagine that he is amusing. There is no wizard in Britain I would be less likely to accept a proposal from - and no wizard less likely to ask for my hand."

Charles decided to keep his mouth shut while in the shop. When the two left Kestrel's Elizabeth had calmed sufficiently to not wrap her hands around his throat and throttle the life out of him.

"That was Mrs. Kestrel. What part of keeping this a secret do you not understand?"

"Mrs. Kestrel? The mother of the Princess?"

"She does not appreciate that nickname."

Charles shrugged, "That is the manner in which she dresses and carries on. Her parents run a tailor shop?"

"Mother, her father is dead. And it doesn't change who Vivien is."

"It certainly doesn't," he agreed. "She's as stuck up and full of herself as anyone I know."

Elizabeth closed her mouth tightly and counted to ten. The bad news was that she recognized that, at least in part, Charles was correct. "We're going to Middlesex Street now, you need a frock coat.

On Friday afternoon Elizabeth congratulated herself for how well her plan had come together. Her parents knew Mr. Potter and found him a pleasant enough guest that they had raised no objections to his presence. They also knew enough of the dislike which marked her relationship with the man in Gryffindor that neither saw him as a threat to the man he or she believed most likely to secure their daughter's happiness.

Mr. Potter arrived slightly early. He wore boots with more heel than usual which, coupled with Elizabeth wearing her flattest slippers, allowed the two of them to see eye-to-eye.

Miss Gray panicked as the dance began and she saw the flaws in her plan. To please her father she danced with Mr. Prince twice to begin the evening. During the second set Pearl had tugged on Mr. Potter's robe and asked to dance with him. Charles grinned and picked the little girl up. She put her arms around his neck as he held her off the floor and he moved to the music.

"And you don't need to worry about me stepping on your feet," he whispered.

She giggled, "I think you are a wonderful dancer," she assured him.

Elizabeth informed Charles of a change of plan during the third dance.

"You are not my fiancé," she whispered.

"I've been sacked? Do I need to give back the robe and coat?"

"A fiancé is too dangerous. Mr. Prince might congratulate my parents, and I don't want them to question me."

"And I would appreciate not being sued for breach of promise."

"Indeed. It was suggested I have a fiancé - but I just realized a fiancé is not necessary. You are quite passionately in love with me-"

"I am?"

"Yes, you are. I expect you to ask my father for my hand any day now, and I will urge him to let you marry me."

"And if word reaches your father that I have broken your heart by failing to ask?"

"You should be in Siberia by then with your father."

"Did Mr. Prince hear of my plans last December?"

"I don't recall… If he did I shall inform him that I plan to remain in London and pine faithfully until your return."

Elizabeth blamed the Sisters insistence that she needed a fiancé for her near error. It was much better to have him as helplessly smitten with her rather than a fiancé, it presented her with more flexibility in dealing with the situation. Overall Miss Gray regarded the evening as a huge success, the greatest difficulty she saw coming out of the evening was the fact Pearl kept telling her what a wonderful man Mr. Potter was.

The presence of Mr. Potter in the family pew on Easter morning made seating a little tight. In the chill of the poorly heated sanctuary Elizabeth found she didn't mind being up against his warm shoulder. During the singing of hymns Elizabeth discovered he had a respectable baritone range and knew his way through the well-worn Book of Common Prayer he brought to services.

Elizabeth's curiosity in Mr. Potter's prayer book was assuaged by Pearl asking about it at the end of services. "It was my mother's," he told Elizabeth's young sister. "And it has been all over the world with our family. When I was a little boy my mother taught me to read from it."

Muggle guests always turned the Gray home into a scene of chaos. The house elves needed to remain out of sight and muggle servants, often of poor quality, were brought in for the day. As she prepared for bed that night Elizabeth counted the day a second success. She managed to whisper her deep attachment towards Mr. Potter to John Gardiner and begged him to say nothing to any of the parents until Mr. Potter had the opportunity to ask for her hand.

It is true she owed Mr. Potter two days of walking his feet off around London, she refused to take Geoffrey and the carriage. Even a few months earlier she would have done anything to avoid being with Charles, but she found herself smiling as she considered the next two days. _"It has nothing to do with Mr. Potter,"_ she assured herself as she pulled up the blankets. _"I love London."_

* * *

The fashion comments were accurate. Women's sleeves in England were outrageously oversized in 1835 - you might have hidden a medium-sized dog in each sleeve if you had to a mind to do so and two very laid back dogs. (Not recommended for active breeds.) Later in 1836 sleeves began to diminish in size.

Orthodox Easter, Western Easter, and Passover all fell on the first weekend of April in 1836. Fringe religious groups in America found amazing significance in the fact. Charles almost got a letter from his brother in America on the subject, but I'll admit that it too far removed from the story for even me.


	16. Touring the Town

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Touring the Town**

"You are up early," Mr. Gray commented as his older daughter joined him for breakfast. "I am more accustomed to hearing that you've slept for hours after I've left for work."

"I promised to show Mr. Potter around London."

"You are seeing a great deal of that young man, too much it seems to me."

"You must remember, he doesn't know London. And he leaves for the continent as soon as school ends. I shall probably never see him again after this term."

Her assurance did not satisfy her father completely. But he remembered Mr. Potter's odd costume when he met the young man and took comfort in the fact Mr. Potter was too obviously eccentric for his daughter to be interested.

"Father?"

"Yes, Dear?"

"I assume Mr. Potter has seen The Tower. But in case he has not, would you please ask Munin to accompany us?"

Mr. Gray smiled with pleasure, if Elizabeth asked for Munin then her time with Mr. Potter could only be innocent. "I will pay whatever he asks myself, and offer him more if he seems reluctant."

"I suspect Mr. Potter may have seen The Tower, I simply would like Munin if he has not."

"You might want him for other parts of the city as well. I dare say you won't find anyone with more stories to tell about the city."

"Yes, but all of Munin's stories end with someone being hanged on the gibbet or a head being cut off. He then makes an indelicate comment about eating their eyes."

Mr. Gray sighed, "He can be repetitious. Still, I shall ask him to go with you this morning. I would ask him to stay with you, but I require his services this afternoon."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said and kissed her father on the cheek as he departed for work.

Mr. Potter arrived soon after Mr. Gray's departure. Elizabeth noted he wore a good pair of boots. "We'll do a lot of walking today," she promised.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"We've not decided yet," she told him.

"I'm anxious to get started."

"London in two days?" Elizabeth sighed. "What have you seen of London?"

"Other than Diagon?"

"I should hope you know Diagon. What else?"

He thought, "Amazingly little. I visited St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey, and I've seen Saint James and The Tower from the outside."

"You've not been in The Tower?"

"No."

"Oh dear. You must see The Tower today, but even a short visit will consume most of the morning. I don't know where to begin. I had thought we'd see the City today and Westminster tomorrow--"

"That sounds like a good plan."

"You don't know anything of London! Not anything! I present you with a choice. One can't see London properly in two days. We either dash madly about for two days and see a thousand sights which all jumble together in your mind, or we see a handful of sights but linger and enjoy them."

Charles thought for a minute. "The vast jumble, I think. The wider exposure will acquaint me with things I may be able to view at leisure at a later time. Unless you recommend the other plan."

"Each way to see London has an advantage, and a weakness. We are seeing the city for you - so you take the lead in what you wish to see and it is my duty to follow."

"Except, of course," he pointed out, "I don't know what I wish to see. I rely upon you to lead me and I must follow. What would you wish to show a man with my incredible breadth and depth of ignorance?"

Elizabeth hesitated, "You must see The Tower this morning. I love Wren's churches. And there are many more Wren's in the city than St. Paul's. Your boots look comfortable, we shall do a lot of walking."

"I can match your pace all day," he boasted.

"We'll see about that."

Munin fluttered down to Elizabeth's shoulder as the two neared The Tower.

"He hasn't seen The Tower," Elizabeth informed the raven.

The bird looked at Charles, "You are indeed fortunate. No one alive has witnessed more executions than I."

"It would be nice if you could impart some other lessons of history as well," Elizabeth complained.

The bird sighed, "If I must…"

"I came here a great deal as a child," Elizabeth told Charles. The Royal Menagerie was located here--"

"And fifty years ago you could gain entrance to the Menagerie by bringing in a stray dog to feed the lions," Munin added.

"I am trying to tell him of visiting the Menagerie!"

"You asked for other lessons of history!"

"Do they all end with someone or something being killed?"

"Is there another kind of history?"

Miss Gray continued speaking to Mr. Potter. "Several years ago the London Zoological Gardens were opened and the Menagerie became smaller. The remaining animals at the Tower left for the Gardens last year."

Munin took flight. "Did we offend him?" Charles asked.

Elizabeth smiled, "He wants to save us the price of admission, which he shall insist be given to him instead."

The couple reached the gate and addressed the Warder when the bird again dropped from the sky, landing on Miss Gray's shoulder. "They're with me," the bird croaked, "they're with me." The Warder eyed the raven critically. "They're with me," Munin repeated.

"That be the old 'un?" the man grunted.

Munin bobbed his head, as if in agreement.

"I'm not coming here enough," Munin explained after they had been waved into the Tower and once they were out of earshot. "I'm not certain if he recognized me or not."

"The Tower Warders know you?" Mr. Potter asked needlessly.

"I convinced some Henry that I brought luck to the place. They now keep ravens on the ground in my memory and honor."

"I don't think you are the reason," Elizabeth objected.

"I most certainly am."

For three hours the bird told of events at The Tower and Tower Hill, often (as Elizabeth had feared) ending with a comment about dining on the eyes of traitors whose heads were on display.

At noon the raven departed and Elizabeth began to lead Charles through the maze of the city, visiting Wrens and earlier churches and other sites of interest.

He suggested they stop for lunch, but she had answered, "Too much to see," and plunged ahead. "We'll stop in someplace for black pudding and ale, but we must keep moving." At times he almost needed to trot to keep up with her.

"Can I buy you dinner this evening?" he asked as they quickly ate.

"I have family dinner, I can't. Oh, Geoffrey will pick up us up tonight at six tonight at Fleet Street. He will drive me home and then take you to your lodgings."

"Sounds good, I--" he began, but Elizabeth was out the door. Still chewing his last bite he followed her. "Lunch tomorrow?" he suggested when he caught up.

"Perhaps."

"I owe you, remember?"

It was dark when they found the carriage, but they had worked their way across the City from East to West and seen more than Charles had imagined possible and could possibly remember. Geoffrey sat on the driver's bench, munching a Cornish pasty when they found him.

"Smells good," Charles commented.

"Mrs. Lovett's," the driver grunted, brushing some greasy crumbs from his lips. "Used to be worst pies in London. She's gotten a lot better lately."

Mr. Potter turned to Elizabeth, "Do I have time to--"

"I need to get home for dinner. You can try them another day."

As they rode toward the Gray home Elizabeth told Charles, "Geoffrey will take us to Westminster tomorrow. We will go to Westminster and St. James… Should the King be out you may shake his hand if he offers his. You should praise him for supporting the Reform Act. I hope we can reach Chelsea tomorrow afternoon… It is very special to me."

"Then I shall try to keep up with you again. You walk uncommonly fast."

"And you keep up uncommonly well. Oh, have you found anything of interest in the book of old curses and charms I lent to you?"

"There were several I copied out for myself. Thank you for allowing me to see the volume."

"So, you are finished with it?"

"Yes… Didn't your brother give it back to you? I gave it to Basil two weeks ago."

Elizabeth questioned Basil as to the whereabouts of the book that evening. Basil explained that Edward William had noticed the book before the young Gryffindor could return it and had borrowed the volume for himself.

Under questioning Edward William admitted having the book, and felt certain he had alerted Elizabeth to the fact - despite the fact virtually no students from Ravenclaw and Slytherin had spoken to each other since the whist tourney. Weasel promised to return the book to her sometime during Spring Term.

"Mr. Potter again?" George Gray asked his daughter when she joined him for breakfast.

"Yes, unless his feet are too sore after yesterday. I didn't think he could keep up with me, but he did."

"You like the young man?"

"I will admit that my feelings towards him have changed."

"Gotten better?" her father asked glumly.

Elizabeth laughed, "My feelings towards Mr. Potter could only improve. It would not have been possible for me to dislike a human being more than I disliked him."

"I simply don't think it appropriate for you to spend so much time with the young man. Now Mr. Prince--"

"Trust me, Father, there can be no comparison between the two. And you heard Mr. Potter talk about how he leaves for an expedition with his father at the end of the term."

Mollified by his daughter's assurances Mr. Gray expressed the hope they would enjoy good weather for the day.

"Is there anything in particular you desire to see today?" Elizabeth asked as the carriage jolted through London's streets.

"Someone told me I should see Madame Tussaud's wax figures. I heard she has opened a museum somewhere. There are death masks of some of those executed in the French Revolution."

"Probably on Baker Street. I will not take you there."

"But you asked what I wanted to see."

"It is a place for those with a morbid fascination, like Munin. Besides, Madame Tussaud is not English, she is French. Her vulgar display has no proper place in the city. I am quite surprised she has stayed here as long as she has. She should move back to Paris. I dare say that in a few years she and her wax models will be completely forgotten."

Mr. Potter grumbled something about why did she bother to ask.

"Because you might have suggested something useful. And I would have honored your request, if there had been merit in it. However, as you admitted yesterday, I know London better."

"So where do we begin?"

Elizabeth hesitated, "How are your feet? Are they sore from yesterday or are you able to maintain the pace we set yesterday?"

"I should be able to keep up another day without collapsing."

"Good, we may have to back track, but I'd like to begin where Parliament burned. I've not seen it in months and hope it has been cleared." Miss Gray called to the driver, "Let us out at Parliament."

The two stood, silently staring at the open spot where Parliament once stood. "I'm glad the rubble has been cleared away," Elizabeth sighed. "I cried when mother wrote me of the fire."

"I had seen it when I visited the Abbey, but paid scant attention to it. I… I don't know what to say."

"I fear there is nothing to say. There is a competition to design a new building. By the time you return from your travels construction should be well under way."

They passed the rest of the morning with palaces and other government buildings. Charles hoped in vain that the King might be out.

"Can I take you somewhere for lunch?" Charles offered noon. "Keeping up with you gives a man an appetite."

She hesitated, "I don't believe I will ever let you pick out a place to eat, I don't care for your taste in food."

"Fine, you know London better anyway. Where would you like to go, and I'll pay for lunch."

She paused for a moment in thought, "Sorry, I don't think you'll be able to take me to lunch."

"But--"

"No, listen. We aren't far from the Wand Club. Are you a member?"

"No," he admitted.

"Well, my family is. So I'll take you to lunch."

"That doesn't seem fair," he protested. "You agreed to show me the city, not to buy me--"

She grinned, "And I'm having a wonderful time showing you the sights. You have a quality rare in men - the ability to listen to a woman. Call it part of my tour of London… Have you been to the Wand Club before?"

"No, I haven't. But I still think I owe you lunch."

"And I dare say you do, but you shall need to find another day to pay your debt." She pointed down a street, "For now - to St. James, the Wand Club awaits. One of Wren's favorite churches is close by, we shall see it after lunch."

Most muggle clubs did not admit women. And to look respectable the Wand Club did not allow unaccompanied witches to enter by the front door. Elizabeth always resented using the side entrance when she came alone, but with Mr. Potter by her side she managed the front door for the first time without her father. She felt a curious air of satisfaction which she attributed purely to being accepted as an adult; she could enter by the front door because she was the member. Had anyone suggested she enjoyed the company of Charles Potter there is a very good chance Elizabeth would have transformed the miscreant into a toad.

Three Hogwarts students were in the dining room when Charles and Elizabeth were shown to their table. She nodded at them and would have thought nothing more about it, except for the fact one of them was Miss Diggory, the woman who was almost equaled Mr. Philpott at gossip. Miss Gray feared the sight of a man and woman together at the Wand Club might generate gossip at the school which could reach her father. She shook off her concern. She and Mr. Potter were mere acquaintances, and eating at the wand club perfectly innocent. She refused to let the presence of Miss Diggory bother her.

Lunch lasted longer than the time Elizabeth had budgeted for the meal. After a day and a half of frantic motion it felt good to sit, enjoy a meal, and engage in conversation.

As they finished their meal Mr. Potter suddenly grinned across the table, "Miss Gray, I have a confession to make."

"You killed him?"

"Pardon?"

"I suspected it was you."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, "My confession is that I accepted your offer primarily from a sense of guilt. I felt like I owed you for my treatment of you last December. And the promise of seeing London provided an extra incentive. But I enjoyed you teaching me how to waltz--"

"You enjoy leading."

"There is that," he admitted, "and I've enjoyed being with you and your family. Thank you. Of course, you're making me feel even worse for how I treated you."

"And I feel badly for asking you to drink the Frau Diablo's."

"So our feelings of guilt should cancel each other out?"

"Will you take the three galleons?"

"No."

"Then you are not yet forgiven." Elizabeth stared across the table, then sighed. "Mr. Potter, I deeply regret asking you to take the role of fiancé."

He frowned, "Did I fail in the role that badly?"

"No, you were perfectly adequate as the love-sick admirer. I regret these two days of showing you around London."

"I'm that much of a burden?" he asked, feeling hurt because he had imagined she enjoyed their time together as much as he.

"I have come to the conclusion that my intense dislike of you represents an error in judgment on my part. I hate discovering errors in judgment."

"Or at least errors in your own judgment. I imagine you take a certain perverse pleasure in finding the sin in others."

"True," she acknowledged.

"Of course, I wasted a great deal of my time in antipathy towards you."

"I suppose that your dislike of me justified some of my feelings… But I still feel badly about our history. I think we might have been friends had things been different. I feel badly about lost opportunity."

"Too late for us to be friends now?"

"Probably, only a single term remains before you leave. And I shall regret having thought so poorly of you."

"If it would make you feel any better, I could push you into the Thames this afternoon."

"Excuse me?" she frowned.

"Well, if I pushed you in the Thames there would certainly be no reason for you to regret hating me. Your feelings would be completely justified."

Elizabeth laughed, loudly. She then blushed crimson and put a hand over her mouth as diners turned to find the source of the noise. "Sorry," she whispered.

"For finding me amusing? I was trying to be amusing. I would have been disappointed if you had cried."

"Weasel says my unchecked laughter could split a half-inch pine board at fifteen paces. I--"

"Nonsense. Nine paces… perhaps. Fifteen? Never."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. So, when I have heard you laugh before - such as yesterday?"

"I work very hard to restrain myself."

"I don't know why you should."

"My laugh is not a feature I am proud of."

"You should have tested its power out on Mr. Prince. Perhaps you could have driven him away without hiring a professional fiancé."

"I am uncertain if I could have found reason to laugh in his presence."

"True… And perhaps, like me, it would not have bothered him. I found it charming."

"It may be charming enough to hear me embarrass myself at the Wand Club, I suspect most men would find the idea of spending a lifetime with my laugh a prospect to avoid at all costs."

After lunch they briefly looked at another Wren, then went to the river and hired a boat to take them to Chelsea.

"There are places of more importance I should take you, but this is my favorite spot in London and I want to visit there before Spring Term."

"Then I am honored you will allow me accompany you."

"I fear April is not the best month for viewing the Physic Garden. The Fletchers, my mother's side of the family, have supported the Garden for generations."

"The garden is in a state of decline," Elizabeth admitted as they prowled the garden. "Grandfather Fletcher says the glory days were in his youth, but I still love it here."

"I believe my mother spoke of this place… Although I could be mistaken. She told me she sent seeds and cuttings to a friend who was associated with a garden, although I was so young at the time I can not recall the name, if she said it."

"The Society claims a large number of wizards in addition to the Fletchers, this may well be the garden. Perhaps we shall see plants she sent home to England."

The garden brought many memories of his mother to Mr. Potter's mind and he talked of her work in foreign lands. Elizabeth found it curious to be listening to and sharing her own tales of family and their interests in herbology. As they moved through the garden Miss Gray found herself before a plant mentioned in _The Herbs of Wales_. "Did you know that extract of willowherb, if mixed with a tincture of adder's tongue, produces a salve that will ease the pain and stop the spread of the rash associated with scrofungulus?"

"Only if the willowherb is sufficiently fresh," Charles agreed, "and it is more potent if cut with a silver blade or scissors."

Elizabeth had attempted to display her knowledge. "You knew," she sighed.

Mr. Potter heard the disappointment in her voice. "Sorry. Is it too late to deny knowledge or claim a lucky guess?"

"You would only make things worse if you try to patronize me. Knowledge handed down from your mother?"

"I read it in one of her books."

"Your mother wrote books on herbology?"

"No… I remember her saying she would like to, but she never had the time. It was in a book she owned, a great favorite of hers."

"_The Herbs of Wales and Their Lesser Known Properties_?"

"Yes."

"I know why it was a favorite, it is a wonderful book."

"My mother thought so, it was dedicated to her."

Miss Gray frowned, trying to remember the frontpiece of the volume, "It was dedicated to Professor Saxifrage."

"And to Caroline Thickey, my mother's maiden name. Mother was a year behind Miss Douglas in classes, but the two were great friends. Professor Saxifrage began teaching while they attended Hogwarts. I'm not certain if Miss Douglass approved of the marriage, which is why she would not dedicate it to Mrs. Archimedes Potter."

The afternoon passed more quickly than Elizabeth would have imagined possible and the two hired a boat to take Elizabeth to the East Side and home. Charles insisted on accompanying her home. She took his arm as they walked to her house. "Let me have Geoffrey take you back," she offered as they reached her house.

"You needn't bother."

"He is paid to drive the carriage. You could have gotten out earlier and saved yourself a walk, but you came with me. I need to make certain you don't get lost."

"I have learned the route between my father's rooms and your house the last few days," he pointed out.

She insisted he receive a ride, and waved to him as the carriage left. She wondered how long it would be before he discovered the three galleons she had slipped in his pocket as they walked arm-in-arm. "You are forgiven," she whispered as the carriage disappeared around a corner.

Elizabeth spent the next day with Miss Kestrel. Vivien was the only friend to whom Miss Gray would confide the story of her subterfuge. Vivien giggled, "Mother told me you were at the shop with Mr. Potter. I could not believe it."

"I only asked him because he could not mistake my request for an interest in him," Miss Gray insisted.

"He was still a curious choice. But tell me more about your Mr. Prince. How would you estimate his wealth?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I think my father might see himself in Mr. Prince. He has little now, but is a man who will work hard. I suspect Mr. Prince sees in me the chance to get ahead in the world. My father would help advance his career were he to marry me."

"He doesn't sound like a bad prospective husband. Your father provides very well for your mother."

"My father proposed to my mother out of love, not for a dowry to help him in life. The Fletchers could do nothing to advance my father. I am certain Mr. Prince only sees potential for himself when he looks at me."

"Then you needn't introduce us… He does not have enough wealth to tempt me, and my family could do nothing to improve his station in life."

"My father married for love and succeeded in business. I could introduce you to Mr. Prince. If he works hard he may indeed advance to a position of wealth."

"And he may not. My mother has worked hard her whole life and has little to show for it."

Miss Gray could have pointed out that, compared with some, Miss Kestrel's life was not hard. But Vivien certainly had less than Elizabeth and the others with whom the blonde witch compared herself.

When the two shopped Elizabeth paid for the small purchases of Vivien. Miss Kestrel never asked for extravagant items and always promised to repay Elizabeth, someday. Miss Gray suspected that day would never arrive, but did not resent what she spent on her friend. Miss Gray did, however, resent that beside Miss Kestrel she felt clumsy, monstrously oversize, and ugly, but knew this was her own perception.

Two days before Elizabeth and her brothers were to leave for Spring Term at Hogwarts their father did not return home from his office in the evening. Munin brought a terse message, "There is trouble at the school. The Governors were called north."

"What happened?" Mrs. Gray demanded.

"I can not tell you," the raven replied.

"How much will it cost to for me to hear what happened?" she sighed.

"I can not tell you because I do not know. The report your husband received was not clear. Between the uncertainty over the truth of the story and the need of the Governors to address the issues he instructed me to say nothing other than to inform you he had left for Hogwarts."

"Does he know when he might return?"

"He did not say when he might return. I will venture an opinion and guess that the trouble brewing among the Governors might be coming to a boil."

* * *

Sir Christopher Wren designed fifty-one churches after the London fire of 1666.

The Royal Menagerie closed in 1835, and in the 18th century you could gain admittance either by paying or furnishing a dog or cat for lion food.

Black Pudding - more of a sausage, with blood as the ingredient which imparted the dark color.

William IV hadn't planned to rule England. He hated pomp. The fact his older brothers died without legitimate children brought William to the throne. Although he had ten illegitimate children from the mistress of his younger days he also failed to provide an heir to the throne with the legitimate wife of his mature years and the throne passed to his niece, Victoria. He sometimes walked about in Westminster, shaking hands and speaking with the public. The aristocracy thought him mad. The conservatives opposed the Reform Act of 1832 because it helped clean up government and they were the ones who profited from the existing system and its corruption.

_String of Pearls_, the original serial featuring the story of Sweeney Todd did not begin to appear until 1846. The story is set in 1785, however. So I am doubly anachronistic in moving Mrs. Lovett's pie shop to the 1830s

Madame Tussaud rented buildings on Baker Street from 1831. Her first permanent museum opened there in 1836.

Henry VIII gave the Westminster Palace to Parliament during his reign. It burned in 1834. In 1836 Charles Barry won the competition to design the new Parliament building, including the clock tower housing Big Ben.

The Chelsea Physic Garden began in 1673. Operated by the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries, the gardens were not opened to the general public until the 1980s.


	17. Spring Term Begins

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

I should have thanked Imablack much earlier. She is my 'Go to' person whenever I have canon questions that I'm too lazy to look up in my own books.

Also, I plan to finish this and won't hold it for 'review ransom', but reviews are especially appreciated on this story. Thank-you to A Markov, Imablack, LadyClaire87, lil pyro on fire, List of Romantics, Mr. Wizard, Orangetreefrog, Rain Addict CM, and Thomas Linquist.

**Spring Term Begins**

The very air of Hogwarts felt wrong when Elizabeth arrived for Spring Term.

Robert found her soon after her return, "We're supposed to talk with the Headmaster."

"What's wrong?"

"No one knows… Or at least no one is telling the students anything. The students who stayed here during the break report a terrible commotion two days ago with faculty upset and uncommunicative. The Governors were here when I arrived, although they have departed now. I'd hoped you might know something."

"Sorry, Father did not explain what was happening and we were quite worried. Did Mrs. Pilton ask to see anyone beside the two of us?"

"I was asked to find you as soon as you returned and ask you to go to the office with me. I don't know of anyone else."

Penelope Pilton's hair appeared even wilder than normal when they arrived at her cluttered office and she sounded distraught and nervous as she asked them to sit.

"Have the students heard the news?"

Robert shook his head no. Elizabeth demanded, "What news?"

The headmistress plopped down in her own chair and tried to compose her thoughts. "Prof. Saxifrage suffered an attack. She is near death—"

Elizabeth very nearly went into shock. Robert had to gently shake her arm to regain her attention. "What happened?" she stammered.

"Attacked by a vampire. She is alive, but we don't know if she will recover or not. At her age…"

"What is being done?" Robert asked.

Pilton gave a bitter laugh. "What is being done in regard to what? Lobelia is receiving the finest care available. If that were the sole criteria I could hope she will be fine. If you mean in regard to the vampire Professor Sauberkehren has organized a hunt by… That is immaterial at the moment. Because of my position, my second concern, after her health, is for her classes. It is quite certain she will be unable to teach her courses this term. The Board of Governors," it felt to Elizabeth like the Head's eyes were boring into her, "is currently locked in a struggle for power and will not help."

"But surely—" Robert tried to interrupt.

"I have offered them a list of several very well qualified witches and wizards who might be able to assume herbology courses while Lobelia recuperates. One faction or another on the board has vetoed every name I have proposed," she told him sharply. "My hands have been utterly tied in regard to finding a replacement." She fell silent for a minute, then stood and paced nervously about the office, wondering how to continue.

Elizabeth broke the silence, "Why did you ask for us?"

Mrs. Pilton sighed. "Other faculty will usually fill in for a professor who is temporarily absent. Herbology is not a class that other faculty would feel comfortable teaching. And even if another professor felt comfortable with herbology he would not have time to take over classes for an entire term while teaching his own subjects. Professor Saxifrage will not be returning this term. It will be months, at best, before she regains her strength. I am not allowed to find a witch or wizard from outside Hogwarts to teach her classes. None of the existing professors at Hogwarts possesses the knowledge or necessary time to fill in for her. I see two courses of action available to me. One requires I cancel herbology for the Spring Term. I will not do that without suggesting the other option. At faculty meetings Professor Saxifrage never tired of praising the two of you. If I can't bring in someone from outside Hogwarts for the subject, and none of the other faculty are able to teach her classes, it is within the small power the Governors allow me to ask a student to teach them."

Robert seemed stunned, "You want one of us to teach Herbology?"

"I hope that the two of you can share the responsibility. I've spoken with your professors. The two of you are doing well in all your classes and the professors will excuse you from any work which might interfere with your teaching and give you any help you might require."

It was too much coming too quickly at Elizabeth, she could not answer immediately.

"May we speak privately for a few minutes?" Robert requested.

"Certainly… I need to speak with the Dalyrumples. I shall return in twenty minutes or so and see if you have an answer."

"Lizzy, we need to do this," Robin told her as soon as the door closed behind the Head.

"How can we even talk about it," Elizabeth snapped, "Professor Saxifrage--" She broke down and started weeping.

Her cousin took her in his arms and patted her back. "We have to talk about it. Neither of us know what will happen with Professor Saxifrage, whether she will live or die. We--"

"Professor Flamel has a philosopher's stone! He could…"

"What?"

"He won't. He and his wife made a promise. I'll ask--"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not certain," Elizabeth admitted. "I had a hope, but I don't know that anything will come of it."

"There is nothing wrong with hope. It seems certain that the Professor won't be able to teach this term. And my thought is, what would she want us to do under the circumstances?"

Elizabeth found a handkerchief and wiped her eyes and nose, and then, summoning her best imitation of Professor Saxifrage's querulous tones she commanded, "The two of you must assume responsibility for the greenhouses until my return!"

Robin managed a small smile, "She certainly would tell us that. And what would she say about taking over classes until her return?"

"That is a very great responsibility."

"That does not answer my question."

"I think she would demand to know why the Governors could not approve an interim replacement."

"She would do that. But what would she tell us?"

"She would tell us to try and teach the classes… Do you really think we can?"

"And if she were here she would tell us we are incapable of doing the job properly - that we are too young and untested. Then she would assure us that we are the best students she's had in years and we'll do a fine job."

The two began to discuss how to divide the responsibilities. It seemed preferable that Elizabeth should avoid Slytherin classes if possible and Robert would not teach Hufflepuff classes. A joint class of third year Slytherins and Hufflepuff represented a problem they only began to discuss when Mrs. Pilton returned.

"Have you reached a decision?"

"We have," Elizabeth told her. "We believe Professor Saxifrage would want us to try and teach the classes."

"Thank you, I am quite certain she would. I would like to discuss the schedules with you after dinner this evening."

Robert spoke up, "We began talking about that already."

"Good. I'd still like to look over your ideas… In hopes that the two of you would agree I've asked two professors to help you as you begin. Miss Gray, Professor Thomas will sit in some of your classes and offer advice. Mr. Fletcher, Professor Wood is willing to help you. Good teachers, like healthy plants, need time to grow and develop. This will be doubly difficult for you because of the circumstances under which you have been asked to serve. I can speak for the rest of the faculty when I promise that we will assist you in any way we can."

"Thank you," Elizabeth responded. "We know where Professor Saxifrage kept her class notes. We can try to keep students where they should be for her return in the fall." _"If she returns in the fall,"_ ran through her mind, but she would not voice her fears.

"Except I can't read her handwriting," Robert groaned. "They won't do me any good."

"I'll help you transcribe them," his cousin offered. "Or perhaps you'll learn to read her handwriting from necessity."

Mrs. Pilton collapsed in relief on her desk chair. "Thank you. I am grateful for your willingness to help… It seems terribly odd. Three years I wanted very much to expel the two of you from Hogwarts. Had there been a shred of evidence to link either of you to the unfortunate affair of the griffin in the Ravenclaw Common Room you would have been gone."

"Of course I don't know anything about the incident," Elizabeth said, "but I've always imagined that the wizard who came across the griffin in the forest – if it were a wizard and he had discovered the griffin in the forest – didn't realize how ill the creature was."

Robert glared at her, "My own imagination was that the witch who brewed the somnambulant potion – assuming it was a witch and she used a somnambulant potion – mismanaged an ingredient or the dosage."

"More likely the wizard made the error."

"More likely the witch."

Penelope almost managed the smile, the closest she had come since receiving the news of Professor Saxifrage's injuries. "Since neither of you are aware of the identity of the perpetrators we need to put that behind us. I would like to meet with you after supper to discuss your schedules and how we will manage. In the meantime, I ask you not say anything of what has happened until after the formal announcement this evening. Rumors and gossip take on lives of their own and are almost impossible to dispel - even with the truth."

The two nodded in agreement and returned to their houses. Elizabeth had not had time to change before seeing the headmistress and opened her wardrobe door. The cold, dead body of Lobelia Saxifrage slumped inside the wardrobe. Her skin was a waxy, bloodless white and her eyes open and unseeing.

Elizabeth's screams brought her friends running. Vivien held the hysterical Lizzy, trying to comfort her.

"What happened," Miss Cattermole demanded.

"The boggart," Elizabeth managed to stammer, "startled me."

Charlotte took out her wand, "I'm killing that damn spider."

Elizabeth pulled herself together, "No, don't."

"Lizzy, I heard you scream. It hasn't frightened you in years. I'm--"

"I was startled, that's all. It defends itself the only way it can."

"It's a damn nuisance."

"No killing!"

Vivien looked curious, "What did it look like?"

"I… I can't tell you. It's very personal."

"I still say you should let me get rid of it," Miss Cattermole insisted.

"No. No, I'll be fine. It just startled me."

"Are you certain?"

"I think so. Please. I just need to lie down for a minute before supper."

Vivien stayed a minute after the others left. "What did the boggart look like that could frighten you?"

"A body… Someone I cared for…"

"Who? Family? Is there some wizard in whom you are interested?"

Elizabeth had regained her composure enough to deflect the question, "Perhaps it was your body I found in the wardrobe."

"Really?"

"Please, just drop the subject. I was simply surprised."

Several of the faculty members were absent from their table during supper. The somber mood and the missing faculty members caused an unusual amount of whispered conversations around the house tables as the students ate. At the end of the meal Penelope Pilton rose and addressed the student body.

"I regret to inform you that one of the faculty, Professor Saxifrage, has been seriously hurt. She will be unable to return to Hogwarts this term… I ask you all to join in prayers for her recovery. A vampire attacked her, and Professor Sauberkehren organized faculty in a hunt for the attacker. He is taking the hunt upon himself, and may ask some of the more advanced members of the Dueling Club to participate. Sir William will care for Professor Saxifrage until he is certain of her recovery. I've asked Professor Flamel to serve as the head of Slytherin until Sir William's return, which I trust will be soon. I will teach the Divination classes until that time. Herbology represents the larger problem. Sir William is certain Professor Saxifrage will be unable to teach this term. Due to various difficulties I've not yet been able to hire a temporary instructor for the class. For the present I have asked Mr. Robert Fletcher of Hufflepuff and Miss Elizabeth Gray of Slytherin to assume the herbology courses until I find an interim. They have graciously agreed--" A scattering of applause for the announcement of Robin and Elizabeth's agreement caused the headmistress to pause for a few seconds. "I am indeed grateful to them. We have not worked out how this will be scheduled, but I will be meeting with them after dinner to complete arrangements."

Someone shouted a question about where Professor Saxifrage had been attacked, and whether she had been at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade at the time. Pilton assured the nervous students that the professor had been visiting friends many miles away at the time of the attack.

"Thank you, however, for bringing up the question. Although the attack happened miles from the school the Board of Governors feels that parents might justifiably be concerned about your safety. There will be no student visits to Hogsmeade without permission from a faculty member. There will be no permission for visits after nightfall, period. The main doors wills be locked each evening at seven, and the heads of houses will be asked to verify all students are in their houses at ten. I realize that the older students in particular may find these stringent rules burdensome, but the Governors are firm. The safety of all students is of paramount concern to them. Students not in their houses at the ten o'clock curfew face a possibility of expulsion."

There were a number of groans from the students.

"Part of me sympathizes with your feelings," she assured them. "But I am in full agreement with the Governors. Your safety represents our highest priority."

Professor Thomas missed dinner, having joined the hunt for the rogue vampire, but Professor Wood sat in the session with Mrs. Pilton as Elizabeth and Robert worked on their schedules. Robin taught more sections than Elizabeth, but since she would need to help him with Professor Saxifrage's notes she would work as hard. Professor Pilton also excused them from a few days of classes, and delayed the start of herbology classes to give them time to prepare their first lesson plans.

Elizabeth returned to Slytherin as Professor Flamel finished meeting the students in the house. When he left she followed him into the hall. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"I… When my father and I were at your home for tea your wife spoke of the philosopher's stone you created. I--"

"This is about Lobelia, isn't it?"

"Yes. Please, Professor, the school needs her."

"I believe Perenelle told you of our vow."

"She did, but I thought, just this once, you might make an exception…"

He sighed deeply. "These are the hardest moments, the times I want to simply destroy the stone and be done with it. I won't break the promise I made."

"But Professor Saxifrage doesn't deserve to die!"

"Death is natural. It will come to us all, sooner or later. I am sorry, Miss Gray, I won't break the promise I made."

"Is there anything else you can tell me? Mrs. Pilton said so little… What is her condition?"

Professor Flamel hesitated for a moment. "I'm staying in Sir William's rooms until his return. Come have a cup of tea. I think Lobelia would want you to have the full story." He sighed, "I wish I knew the full story, but I shall give you such information as I know."

After summoning a house elf and requesting tea and biscuits Professor Flamel took Miss Gray to the rooms of the Slytherin head and gestured to a chair in the sitting room. He sat in a chair on the other side of the room and stared at the ceiling for a moment, then looked at Elizabeth.

"Did Penelope give you more information in her office than she told the students this evening?"

"No. Her concern was asking if Robert and I could teach herbology."

"Thank you for accepting… Lobelia had gone to visit an old friend near the coast during the break. She was attacked on Thursday night or early Friday morning… I am told she was looking for some sort of nettle--"

"Singing nettles. When woven into fabric they are supposed to make the wearer immune to curses."

He shook his head skeptically. "She was discovered, near death. Exactly what happened to spare her life isn't known. Perhaps something disturbed her attacker. When news reached the school Sir William went immediately to care for her. Otto immediately called for professors to hunt for the vampire… It was very Dawn Knight of him - he thinks all vampires should simply be slain."

"They should!"

Professor Flamel looked thoughtful, "Did Lobelia ever mention an old friend, Mrs. Stoker?"

Elizabeth paused, "I believe so… She and Professor Saxifrage share a deep love of violets."

"That is the woman. She is the friend Lobelia had gone to visit, and a vampire."

"Professor Saxifrage never told me that."

"She wouldn't. The prejudices against vampires run very deep. The stigma of the illness is almost as troublesome as the disease itself. I--"

There was a soft knock on the door, and a house elf brought in a tray with a large kettle of tea, two cups and an enormous plate of biscuits. They thanked the elf, who bowed low and returned to the kitchen.

Professor Flamel poured tea and Elizabeth ate a bite before returning to the subject of the conversation, "Was Professor Saxifrage attacked by Mrs. Stoker?"

"No, her friend is old and feeble. She doesn't have the teeth for attacking anyone. She can't even eat haggis cooked to a firm consistency. Mrs. Stoker's nephew suffers from the same disease. He serves as night watch in Troon. The old woman sent word to her nephew of the attack on Lobelia. He knows enough of the disease to treat her and keep her alive, then risked his own life to see that the news reached Hogwarts… So you still think all vampires should be killed?"

There was a long silence before Elizabeth answered, "I don't know."

"Among all thinking creatures there are individuals who are good, and individuals who are wicked. We should never be in a rush to judgment."

"Are there even good werewolves?"

He smiled, "I said among all thinking creatures. When the time of madness is upon them I don't think my statement applies, but the rest of the month they may be very fine people. Otto thinks they should all be slain as well. I think the Dawn Knights accomplished much that was good over the centuries, but I fear their approach of hunting down perceived threats and killing them resulted in the deaths of many who were innocent."

Elizabeth ate another biscuit and finished her tea.

"Another cup?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. What is going to happen now?"

"The true gift of divination manifests itself rarely. I make no claims. I fear Penelope may have been too optimistic in the report she gave the students in regard to Lobelia's health." He noticed the fear on Elizabeth's face. "I have no reason to think she will not recover. I simply voice my opinion that the report to the students might have been too rosy. Sir William will return when she is clearly out of danger. The fact he remains with her demonstrates his continued concern. But the reports he sent to the faculty indicate she is stable, albeit very weak."

"So she will recover?"

"I don't see the future. But I believe the chances are good. When she is stronger the news that you and your cousin are teaching classes will cheer her spirits."

"I don't know of Robin feels prepared to teach. I know I do not."

"No one is," he laughed. "The gift to go in and teach the first day on which it is required of you may be more rare than the gift of second sight. I can tell you some things to expect, not as predictions but because of what I have seen in the past."

"Please do."

"Teaching can be infinitely rewarding in time, but as you start it will be frustrating. In your classes you will have poor students who wish to learn, and poor students who do not wish to learn. You will have students who are bright, but lazy. You will enjoy good students who appreciate all you know, and find good students whose greatest pleasure is to find fault with you."

"I think I know all those people now."

"You probably do."

"Any advice?"

"Find your own style. You may take Lobelia or any teacher you admire for a model, but you must find your own voice in the classroom. You will encounter students you love in the classroom, try to not show them too much favor. You will find students you desire to drop from the window in your classes, try to keep it from clouding your evaluation of their work."

"I know some teachers who don't follow that very well."

"I didn't say teachers are perfect. You asked for my advice. It was clear you were a favorite to Lobelia. Did she treat you with any special preference in the classroom?"

Elizabeth thought, "I… I don't think that she did. But she often requested Robin and I help her with projects in the greenhouses."

"Ah, well there is another matter. To whom do you offer instruction? If you write your lessons for the brightest students in your classroom the students who learn more slowly will be utterly lost. If you write your lessons for the poorest of the students the brighter students will grow bored with the simplicity. Lobelia cultivated you and your cousin, her brighter students, with special challenges. I dare say she spend extra time with some of the students who learned more slowly, drilling them on the fundamentals."

"Fertilizing their minds," Elizabeth smiled.

They talked for another half hour, then he urged her to return to her room and try to sleep. Elizabeth slept poorly that night, her worries about trying to teach almost as great as her fears for her favorite teacher.

For most of the students and faculty the rhythm of the school soon returned to something approaching normal.

The restricted access to Hogsmeade proved the greatest annoyance to students, and to merchants in the village. Professor Sauberkehren took an attack on a Hogwarts professor as a personal insult and continued his hunt for the attacker even after most of the other faculty realized the futility of the effort. Elizabeth and Robert worked frantically and by Friday were ready to meet with students.

Sir William returned at the end of the second week of Spring Term. Elizabeth and Robert immediately demanded a report on her health and when she would be able to return. He answered the first question with the assurance that she was recovering, but only slowly. Even if she felt able to return to teaching that term he would recommend she not be allowed and promised to deliver that message to Mrs. Pilton.

Professor Sauberkehren missed the first two meetings of the Dueling Club because of his obsession and Professor Thomas explained the Spring competitions, although everyone there knew the expectations from watching the contests in earlier years.

"The competitions for best in particular spells and curses will be held first," she told them. "No one is allowed to compete for more than five - and you are not required to compete in any contests. If you wish to participate please bring a piece of parchment with your name and the categories in which you desire to compete to Miss Gray next week. Only seventh years will be allowed to witness the contests for forbidden curses. Then the contests for year champions will be held, beginning with third years and working to the seventh. After that house champions will be determined, and the final competition will be for school champion."

Elizabeth walked back to Slytherin with the Sisters after the Club meeting.

"What spells and curses are you signing up for?" Miss Honig asked.

Miss Cooper answered, "I don't plan to enter any of those competitions."

"You should," Miss Crouch urged. "You're very good at several."

"Thank you, but I shall wait for the third-year competitions."

"Miss Gray," Deborah asked, "please tell Sarah she should enter some of the spell and curse competitions. She is certain to do well."

"She has to decide for herself," Elizabeth told the other Sisters. "Some people choose not to enter the first competitions." _"Especially if they think they might win the competition for their year and they don't want to let others see their areas of greatest strength."_

The next quidditch game would be played late in April, and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were given extra time at the pitch for practice as they readied for the game. Robert felt optimistic, certain that the edge Ravenclaw had shown the previous fall after practicing over the summer would have disappeared by the spring.

Given the friction between Miss Cooper and Mr. Bulstrode at Dueling Club Elizabeth had expected problems when her team resumed practice. Instead, to her pleasant surprise, the first sessions went exceptionally well. After being shamed by Miss Osgood outplaying him Augustus showed a genuine willingness to listen to Turk's directions. Mr. Gutman seemed more relaxed and continued to improve. Elizabeth felt confident the team would be solid in regard to beaters for the next year. If the dislike between the beater and the chaser manifested itself in any way it might have been in the desire of both to demonstrate they represented the greater asset to the team. And since Miss Crouch and Miss Honig refused to be second to Miss Cooper all the Sisters worked exceedingly hard. Then there was the seeker position… Despite, or because of, his broad knowledge of the game Owl continued to watch the other players as much as he worked on his own position.

Weasel returned Elizabeth's book on obscure spells and curses a few days before the first Spring ball. "Better not have it in my room, it could be incriminating."

"How so?"

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes. What did you mean?"

"Nothing… I am merely thinking that if someone were to be indisposed and unable to attend the ball it might look bad if I had that book in my possession."

"Who is going to be indisposed?"

"I just said 'if someone were to indisposed'. And if anyone asks, I never had the book… You don't think Basil looked at it, do you?"

"He might have… Don't you dare use a memory charm on him or I shall tell mother and father."

* * *

Before the dance Mr. Philpott warned Elizabeth that she and Mr. Potter would be closely observed during the dance for signs of preference towards each other, "Honestly, Lizzy," the seventh year sniffed, "you hurt me terribly, cut me to the quick, by letting Miss Diggory steal a march on me. How could you let someone in another house see the two of you having a romantic _tête-à-tête_ first?"

"There was no romantic _tête-à-tête_."

"Lizzy, dear, you've never been a good liar. Everyone is talking about it."

"It was a simple lunch at the Wand Club. There was no holding of hands or gazing with longing into each other's eyes. We arrived. We ate. We left."

"You were there for seventy-one minutes. Miss Diggory timed you."

"Service was slow. I paid no attention to the time."

"Certainly not, not with the handsome Mr. Potter there to hold your attention."

"We talked about London."

"What an interesting euphemism. I wish I had thought of it two years ago when I was caught after-hours in the Runes classroom. When Mr. Dalyrumple bellowed, 'What are the two of you doing?' I could have just answered 'We're merely talking of London,' and everything would have been fine."

"Peter, I think the fact the two of you had your clothes off would have made anyone suspicious."

"Bah, circumstantial evidence. Have you and Mr. Potter kept your clothes on?"

"Mr. Potter and I are now friends." Peter raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I needed a favor and Mr. Potter helped me. And you need not ask, I won't tell you what it was. In return he requested that I show him around London for two days."

"And you and Mr. Potter are now friends, nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

"Your ability to lie has not improved in the last two minutes. Men and women are not allowed to be friends. One or both of you looks for something more than friendship."

"You and I are friends. Since I have no romantic interest in you does it mean you have a romantic interest in me?"

"You know I am incapable of romantic feelings towards you. The rule does not apply to me."

"Well, then, Turk and I are friends. Do you deny that?"

"The two of you know each other. But do you sit and have long conversations in the Wand Club? Do you ask him for favors and show him London?"

"Turk does not live in London. I needed help in London and Mr. Potter's father has rooms there. That was the only reason I requested his aid."

Mr. Philpott smiled a thoroughly irritating smile, "As you say. But everyone will be watching the two of you during the ball."

Elizabeth briefly considered passing the warning on the Mr. Potter, but saw no need to do so. There was nothing for the two of them to hide. The two of them had laid aside their old animosity and perhaps regarded each other as friends. Let the gossips exaggerate it if they wished, there was no truth in the rumor. Elizabeth had no reason to think he would even ask her for a dance, but found herself disappointed at the thought that he might not.

The absence of Mr. Wells of Ravenclaw from the ball presented reason for speculation. He sent word from his room that he felt ill and begged Miss Fowler's pardon for not being able to dance with her that evening. A fifth year Ravenclaw wizard who shared the room with Mr. Wells reported that JW suffered from gas, and had begun breaking wind uncontrollably soon after dinner.

If Weasel hoped to receive some of the dances Mr. Wells could not have with Miss Fowler he was disappointed. She told him his name appeared often enough on her dance card. Elizabeth motioned for Weasel to come over and speak with her between the second and third dances. "Don't use the flatulence curse on Mr. Wells again," she warned.

"It was just a joke."

"And what would be Miss Fowler's opinion if the truth were discovered?"

"You wouldn't!"

"I didn't say that I would, but unpleasant truths have a way of turning up where they are least welcome. Perhaps Mr. Potter will hear of Mr. Wells' problem and say it reminds him of a curious curse."

"Damn."

"Damn indeed. You might also consider the feelings of the other fifth years in the room with Mr. Wells. They would certainly not be happy with you either."

"Could you ask Mr. Potter to not say anything?"

"I make no promises. Wouldn't my asking alert Mr. Potter to the possibility? And he would certainly not hold his tongue simply because I asked."

"The two of you spent a great deal of time together over break. I'm certain he would do whatever you asked."

"And I am certain you are wrong."

Mr. Potter asked for the honor of the fourth dance from Elizabeth. As they danced she considered mentioning her brother's request, but decided it was more likely to make Mr. Potter suspicious. However, Charles brought it up himself, "Did you let your brother look at your book on curious curses?"

She nodded.

"Terribly indiscrete of him… Funny too."

"Why do men find that sort of thing amusing? I've warned him not to do it again. He wanted me to request your silence."

"He can purchase my silence. Fortunately I work cheaply."

"He wasted his money on that broom and has little cash - and his clothes wouldn't fit you."

"Ah, but my silence is in your hands. You can either accept the three galleons or let me have the last dance tonight."

"The three galleons are yours."

"So you'll accept the last dance?"

"You won't try to give me the three galleons again?"

"I never said that. Your choice was to accept them graciously or dance with me."

Elizabeth smiled, "Last dance tonight. But I'll have you know you are exasperating."

"Says the woman who slipped three galleons into my pocket."

They parted at the end of the dance, but Mr. Potter returned to claim her hand for the final dance of the evening.

Mr. Philpott felt quite vindicated in his words to Elizabeth, but the most interesting piece of news he gathered - at least in regard to Slytherin students at the ball - were the two dances between Owl and Felicity Flitwick, a diminutive fourth year witch in Ravenclaw.

Lost in her own thoughts at the end of the ball Elizabeth paid no attention to the quarrels of the Sisters as they returned to Slytherin. As usual the three argued who had danced with the more interesting wizards. It took her a minute to realize Miss Cooper was addressing her, "Miss Gray?"

"Yes?"

"Which is better, to dance with a handsome fifth year from Hufflepuff or a sixth year from Gryffindor who isn't good looking but tells--"

"He isn't bad looking," Miss Crouch objected.

"What is your opinion," Miss Honig asked.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth apologized, "my mind was elsewhere."

"Mr. Potter?" Sarah asked.

"Two dances."

"Seems suspicious," Deborah finished.

Elizabeth reddened. "I was thinking about classes," she lied. "I have a great deal to do to prepare," which was true.

* * *

Haggis reflects the cultural heritage of Scotland as well as any other food. The traditional haggis consists of sheep's blood and cut up organs ('lights') mixed with spices and oats and boiled in a sheep's stomach.


	18. Game 4: Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Game 4: Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff **

Robin and Elizabeth spent much of their time preparing lessons. He taught more sections than Elizabeth, but his inability to read Professor Saxifrage's notes meant that Elizabeth had to spend extra time with him, helping him prepare lessons plans. They both learned quickly that while knowing the subject was important it did not necessarily translate into being able to impart the knowledge to another person.

"If Miss Lovegood doesn't stop playing with her hair in class I will put her out of the room," Robert sighed as they discussed lessons.

"Lovegood… Sixth year, Gryffindor?" Elizabeth asked.

He nodded, "That's her."

"She's trying to get your attention. She thinks you're handsome.

"What? How do you know that?"

Elizabeth laughed, "Robin, all the girls think you're handsome and want your attention."

"I did not need to hear that."

"Yes, you did. And if any witch wants to stay after class with a question, don't allow it."

He sighed, "You should have told me that earlier."

"Oh, how many? Is it difficult to be irresistible to the women of Hogwarts?"

"Let's just study our lesson plans."

"Just as we were getting to the interesting part," she complained and peered down at the spidery handwriting in Lobelia's lesson book.

Two days later, as Elizabeth exited the greenhouse after a class she found Mr. Potter walking by. "Were you teaching?" he asked.

"I'm not certain. Is it possible to teach if no learning takes place?"

"Sounds like you've had a miserable day."

She nodded.

"Who were they?"

"Hufflepuff and Gryffindor second years."

He fell in step with her, "Tell me about it. If any of the Gryffindors were giving you trouble I can suggest they behave properly."

She smiled, "Mr. Potter, the possibility presents itself that you might, although it is by no means a certainty, be a half-way decent chap."

His eyes went wide in mock astonishment, "You really think so?"

"Might," she reminded him, "I said _might_ be a half-way decent chap."

"Don't suppose you'd allow for the possibility I might be three-quarters of a decent chap?"

She closed one eye, as if in thought, "Perhaps."

"Seven-eighths?"

"No, I am quite certain you aren't that charming."

"And yet," he pointed out, "for several days we were engaged to be married."

"Which has caused me to raise my standards for potential husbands."

They both managed to laugh. She made no effort to restrain her volume.

He led her outside the school. Despite a threat of rain he proposed walking down to the lakeshore, but the spring mud lay deep and she did not have shoes for the condition of the grounds. They stood on the stone flagging, enjoying the fresh air as they talked.

"If you think I might be a half-way decent chap you can call me Charles, if you wish."

She put her hand to her chin and stared thoughtfully at him for a minute. "No, I think not," she told him. "You will remain Mr. Potter."

"May I ask why?"

"I feel rather certain that if I accept such familiarity that you will expect reciprocity and want to call me Lizzy."

"Perish the thought."

"Excuse me."

"You're not a Lizzy."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not. Lizzys are seven years old. You have ripened into Elizabeth. And I think it fits you well."

"Mr. Potter, I have changed my mind about you once again. I have decided you are mad. Absolutely and irredeemably mad."

He grinned, "Because I don't see a Lizzy when I look at you?"

"Because you are." The fierce winds and occasional drops of rain drove the two to return to their own houses.

Attendance at Dueling Club increased slightly with the start of competitions for best at various spells and curses. Attendance, and wagers, would rise dramatically when the competitions for best in a particular year and house began in a few weeks.

Rain fell hard the Friday before the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff match, but Sir William promised the rain would end before the game on Saturday morning - although the sky would remain cloudy through the morning and the winds strong for the day.

"Glad we're not playing today," Owl commented as he reached for another piece of bacon.

Turk grunted an inarticulate monosyllable.

Both wizards, indeed everyone on the Slytherin quidditch team except for Mr. Bulstrode, wore Hufflepuff colors for the game. Augustus wore his Slytherin scarf. Mister Abbot and Mr. Gutman joined the others in wishing well for Hufflepuff. The second year German in particular felt a debt towards Mr. Fletcher. "I hope Hufflepuff trounces them badly."

Elizabeth experienced internal conflict. On one level she would like both teams to lose to increase Slytherin's chance to win the quidditch cup. She didn't want Hufflepuff to repeat as champions, but acknowledged she would rather see them repeat than for Ravenclaw to win.

"Watch Mr. Diggory," Miss Gray instructed Mr. Bulstrode and Mr. Gutman. "He does not equal Turk in his defensive play, but can maneuver the opposing beater out of position exceedingly well." She turned to the Sisters, "You three… I am not certain how to advise you… You will face Miss Pettigrew later in the term, but she is not especially strong as keeper and I think you would do better to watch Miss Fowler and learn from her."

Miss Honig chuckled, "They may watch Miss Fowler if they have any time to spare from watching Mr. Andrews."

Poppy hissed for Deborah to be silent.

Owl spoke up, "I've watched Miss Fowler. If you attempt to strip the quaffle from her you might fly at her from the left. She favors watching right and up… Approaching her from below might be effective also."

"Jeremiah," Miss Gray addressed young Mr. Abbot, "you should watch Miss Fowler also, but I think these three can teach you all you need to know about keeping."

Ravenclaw's fast victory in their first game meant that more students were on hand for the start of the game than often occurred. The Slytherin team had difficulty finding a spot where they could sit together with a good vantage for the game until Augustus asked three Gryffindor students to move slightly and create space for them. They considered refusing, but feared the threat of Augie's younger sister as much as they feared the bully himself.

Miss O'Shaughnessy smiled and waved at Turk when the Slytherin team arrived. The Scot beamed and waved back. Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch waved enthusiastically to the red-haired Mr. Andrews, and each felt certain that the return wave was directed at herself.

Miss Flitwick of Ravenclaw 'casually' wandered near the Slytherin team. When she saw the colors on the scarf around Owl's neck she stomped her foot in a fit of pique, "Mr. Whisp, I am most unhappy with you!"

When Owl moved over to create more room to his side the short witch did not allow her unhappiness to prevent her from sitting beside him. "I am only here because this is a fine location for viewing the game," she explained.

"Ravenclaw will win," Mr. Abbot suddenly announced.

"No,"

"They,"

"Won't," the Sisters insisted.

The first year did not look happy about his prediction. "Yes they will," he reported glumly. "They'll win by a wide margin."

"What makes,"

"You think,"

"That's true?"

"Sometimes I get these premonitions. They're usually accurate."

"Hufflepuff will win," Mr. Gutman insisted.

"I didn't say I wanted Ravenclaw to win," Mr. Abbot protested. "I said it would happen."

"And I say you're wrong," the German repeated.

"Can you tell if we'll beat Ravenclaw?" Owl called. Miss Flitwick poked him in the ribs for asking the question.

"I don't get the premonitions all the time, I--"

He fell silent as Professor Turpin whistled the first time for the start of the game and players took to the air. After releasing the bludgers and snitch she took the quaffle and circled high into the air at the center of the pitch.

"The people of Jerusalem hated the prophet Jeremiah for always bringing bad news," Elizabeth commented as Professor Turpin rose in the air.

With a second blast of her whistle to mark the start of play the Professor lofted the quaffle into the air and it fell into the midst of the players.

Dark grabbed the quaffle first, as Rose dove towards him he managed to pass the leather ball to Tall who put the quaffle through a hoop and the Hufflepuff students and supporters let out a cheer. Ravenclaw's supporters let out their own cheer a minute later when Miss Fowler scored on Mr. Andrews.

Miss Gray heard Owl explaining chaser strategies to Miss Flitwick, "Watch the seekers," she hissed at her own seeker.

Elizabeth concentrated her attention on Miss Fowler. She would not face her cousins again at Hogwarts. Elizabeth had one more game against Ravenclaw before she left as Slytherin's keeper and she wanted to be ready for any feint or strategy from the Ravenclaw captain. Miss Gray wondered if Miss Fowler had the stamina for the pace she set for herself. Mr. Wells attempted to take his job of chaser seriously, but Rose didn't appear to trust him. Whenever he gained possession of the quaffle the team captain expected him to pass it to her as quickly as possible. Given how little was asked of him Elizabeth couldn't be certain if Mr. Wells should be judged a competent chaser whose captain demanded her own way or a rich dilettante who made the team because his wealthy family provided new uniforms and a place for practice.

Miss Gray identified 'Wee Willie' Goyle as a stooge. As long as Miss Fowler scored on Mr. Andrews with relative ease 'Wee Willie' simply made a nuisance of himself, putting himself in the way of Hufflepuff chasers to disrupt their play. Elizabeth wished Professor Turpin would penalize him for blatching, but the professor interpreted the rule in the narrowest possible sense and would not charge a foul. She only called blatching on a player who flew _at_ another player, and held that entering the flight path of another player did not constitute a foul. Miss Gray felt that as often as Mr. Goyle interfered with the flight paths of Hufflepuff chasers Professor Turpin should rethink her understanding of the rule.

Elizabeth weighed the two teams as they played. She put Ravenclaw slightly ahead of Hufflepuff, which gave her no joy since Hufflepuff had already beaten Slytherin. Seekers tended to adopt their unique styles, but Elizabeth had to admit that Weasel looked good in the position. Miss Fowler deserved the title of best chaser at Hogwarts, but she took too much of the effort on herself - if the game lasted long enough the way in which the Twins and Bishop worked together might return the advantage to Hufflepuff. The more experienced Miss Pettigrew surpassed Mr. Andrews' ability in front of the Hufflepuff goals, but the fact she had the threat of three chasers to face instead of one lessened the advantage. Only in beating did Elizabeth see an advantage for Hufflepuff, but not one great enough readily change the course of the game. Robin played a better defensive game than Mr. Diggory, but the Ravenclaw Senior had a slight edge in offensive play and so the two nullified each other. The greater difference lay in the Juniors. Miss O'Shaughnessy outplayed Mr. Cairo. Turk, sitting to Elizabeth's right, seemed to cheer every time Miss O'Shaughnessy hit the bludger, and when she placed a hit well the cheers were loud enough to reach the players in the air. Miss Gray had not believed Mr. Lennox capable of such a volume of noise.

But Miss Fowler and Mr. Gray, the two players for whom Hufflepuff most needed to cause problems, were never available as targets for Miss O'Shaughnessy. She managed three attacks on Mr. Goyle, one of which struck a glancing blow, but the large chaser played no real part in the game. Mr. Wells came under attack twice from her bludger, and in the confusion of one attack Bishop managed to steal the quaffle from Miss Fowler. And one attack forced Miss Pettigrew to dive for safety, allowing Tall to score unopposed.

Brigid played beater position more effectively than Mr. Cairo, but could not change the course of the game. As the hours went by Ravenclaw built up a great enough lead that even if Erin O'Shaughnessy managed to capture the snitch, Ravenclaw would still win. Hufflepuff supporters found reason for hope in the early afternoon. Miss Fowler grew tired, and the Hufflepuff chasers narrowed Ravenclaw's lead. Hufflepuff's seeker would win the victory if she caught the snitch first.

The clouds had thinned through the morning hours and in mid-afternoon the sun broke through, shining brightly on the pitch. Weasel saw a flash of gold, the sun reflecting off the snitch, and went into a dive. The crowd shouted, in joy or despair, and Erin tried to find the location. The sun, however, worked against her - blinding her and keeping her from locating the snitch. Weasel's hand closed on the golden orb and he shouted in triumph - hand upraised as Professor Turpin whistled the end of the game.

The teams landed and Robin offered his congratulations to the winning team with sincerity. Other students streamed onto the pitch to congratulate or console the team of their choice.

Misses Cooper and Crouch headed for the Hufflepuff keeper. "They're going to ask Professor Ogden for permission to go into Hogsmeade with him," Miss Honig told Elizabeth. "They think butter beer and sympathy will improve his mood… He appears happy enough to me at the present."

Turk headed for Miss O'Shaughnessy and gave the woman an embrace, then the two left, arm-in-arm.

Owl, with Miss Flitwick following beside, headed in the direction of the Hufflepuff seeker, who had a large number of young men around her offering sympathy. The short wizard did not attempt to push his way through the mob, "Yo," he shouted, "sorry you lost."

Erin waved in recognition, "How'd my flying look?"

"Looked good," he shouted back. "You could have changed elevation more often."

Erin's brow wrinkled slightly in thought, "Thanks, I'll try and work on it."

Miss Gray wished Owl would work as hard on his own flying as he worked on helping other seekers. To the relief of Miss Flitwick the Owl then headed towards the mob surrounding Weasel to offer congratulations.

Elizabeth herself felt torn, uncertain whether she should first congratulate her brother or console her cousins. She made her decision based on the need to spend the evening working on classes with Robin. She joined those around her brother and offered brief congratulations then headed towards the Hufflepuff team members.

A week after meeting Mr. Potter at the end of the double Gryffindor-Ravenclaw herbology class Elizabeth felt no surprise to see him waiting for her as the class ended. "Shall we see if the grounds have dried off since last week?" she asked.

"They haven't, I checked. But we will sit on the east steps and look off at the forest while you drink your tea."

"My tea? I--"

"We need to wait a moment. I'm surprised a house elf hasn't delivered it yet. They are terribly obliging when I say it's for you. But I was very specific in my directions and that might have slowed them down."

"And what sort of directions did you--"

A house elf arrived with a steaming mug of tea. Elizabeth accepted the cup with some hesitation, but thanked the house elf sincerely. "What is in this?" she demanded as soon as the elf left.

"Green tea, with a hint of chamomile and lavender and a dollop of lemon juice. You looked over-wrought last week and I find the blend very soothing."

"There is no Frau Diablo potion in here, is there?"

"Of course not."

"And I will not find three galleons at the bottom of the mug?"

"Perish the thought. There is nothing but tea in the mug. Let me carry your books and materials."

She handed him her papers and texts and the two joined a number of students sitting on the steps and enjoying the afternoon sun. Elizabeth smiled as she finished the cup, "A very nice mix of tea, pleasant conversation, and sunshine. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Will you forgive me if I need to leave now, I have a class to finish preparing for."

"Quite all right. I may sit here a few more minutes."

"Let me take the mug. You have enough other things to manage."

Among those sunning themselves was Erin O'Shaughnessy, surrounded by four young men vying for her attention. Erin called a question about a herbology assignment over to Miss Gray. Then the small witch, being tired of the young men's metaphors for her eyes, hair, and lips, discussed the quidditch game with the seventh year. Before the Hufflepuff chaser returned to the school building she asked Elizabeth to, "Tell Mr. Whisp I am holding a spot open for him on my next dance card. I enjoy talking quidditch with him." This, of course, provoked the chorus of admirers to all insist they enjoyed nothing so much as a conversation on the sport of wizards.

Elizabeth smiled as she prepared to return to Slytherin. She could not remember a more pleasant day, not even the folded piece of parchment containing three galleons which Mr. Potter had left in her textbook was allowed to ruin her mood. If Mr. Potter wanted war he would find her equal to the fight.

For almost a month no one saw evidence of the boggle and many dared to hope the creature had gone back to whatever marsh it came from. Then, after lulling students and faculty into a sense of security it began to appear again. The frequency of its deceptions slowed and their magnitude remained smaller but it tended to appear as a faculty member or upper classman when it manifested itself. The orders it gave to students were usually followed, since younger students dared not question faculty.

Elizabeth sat at the table in the large central alcove off the Common Room. With her teaching duties taking much of her time the various professors would have excused her from assignments, but she wanted to continue working in other classes and wished to finish writing a paper for Dark Arts before going to bed.

At ten Sir William came in to verify the students were in the house. He nodded to Miss Gray, but noting she seemed busy asked Miss Honig to check the women's wing while he looked in the rooms of the men. Several minutes later there was a small commotion of some sort, but Elizabeth paid no attention as she began writing the final paragraph of the Dark Arts assignment. Before she could finish writing, however, Miss Kestrel and Mr. Philpott found her.

"Lizzy, you have to help us!" Vivien demanded.

"What's wrong?"

Peter was almost too upset to speak, "Claudius is missing."

"Missing?"

"He's not here. Viv and I have looked everywhere. He… I had a quarrel with him, I…"

He must have gone to town."

"Probably to the Goblin's Head," Vivien suggested. "You're faculty. You can give us permission to go into town. We need to find him and bring him back."

"Sir William has already been here. I heard something a moment ago, was--"

"Sir William was angry," Peter interrupted, "I assured him that Claudius was in the school. I… You have to help! Sir William will be back soon. Please, you have to let us go."

"I can't give permission. Not for after ten."

"Fine, but we're leaving," Vivien insisted. "We need to find him."

"Then you'll be in trouble too," Elizabeth warned.

"He's Slytherin, Lizzy," Peter begged. "Please, help."

Elizabeth sighed, she did not care for Mr. Malfoy and he brought on his current problems by his own actions, but she knew she would help. "How do you propose to bring him back? As you say, Sir William is certain to return."

"I don't know," Vivien admitted.

Miss Gray had an inspiration, "The broom for Mr. Bulstrode has sufficient strength to carry him, regardless of his condition. Peter, go wake up Owl, I need my broom and Mr. Bulstrode's." Mr. Philpott left hurriedly. "Vivien, the Sisters know a charm for holding someone on a broom. Is there any chance you know it?"

"I should. I taught it to them."

"Sir William will not check the women's wing, and we were here at ten. If we are not here when he returns he will assume we've gone to our room."

Peter came running back with the two brooms and Owl in pursuit.

"Go back," Elizabeth told the fourth year. "You were asleep and didn't hear anything."

"What--"

"Go back," Vivien echoed. "Quickly." She turned to Elizabeth, "There is no time for the tunnel."

"I know. I hope no one is in the corridor."

In addition to the Chamber of Secrets, whose location had been lost, Salazar Slytherin designed four means of escape from Hogwarts. Later remodeling destroyed one of the four, but students over the centuries handed down the secrets of the remaining three. Student were shown the escape routes at the end of their first year, and warned they were only to be used in cases of emergency - and then reminded of the siege of Hogwarts during a Goblin war. Elizabeth felt certain the possible expulsion of Claudius Malfoy didn't represent an emergency sufficient to use one of the exits, but knew the window three floors up represented the only possible means to leave and return unnoticed to the school in a short time.

Peter wrung his hands as the two witches prepared to depart. "This is my fault. I should be going with--"

"You will stay here and stall Sir William if necessary," Miss Gray ordered.

Elizabeth almost hoped there would be people in the corridor and they would be unable to leave as she and Vivien climbed the stairs. The lateness of the hour, however, insured that no one was present.

Vivien rapped three times on the frame of the large window, "Salazar Slytherin orders thee open." The window vanished and the two witches mounted their brooms and left the school. Vivien hovered the air outside the opening and knocked twice on the now-empty frame, "Salazar Slytherin bids thee close."

The lights of Hogsmeade kept them from straying and in minutes they landed outside the tavern. Vivien drew her wand, the Goblin's Head had a poor reputation and arriving so late made her more nervous than she cared to admit. She stayed close to her larger friend as Miss Gray opened the door. The rude calls and invitations made Miss Kestrel even more nervous and she hung on Elizabeth's arm.

Fortunately the room was small, "There he is." Miss Gray pointed to one side of the room. Mr. Malfoy had laid his head on the table and gone to sleep, snoring loudly. The two witches tried to wake him in vain.

"We've got to get him back," Vivien reminded Elizabeth.

"I know that," Elizabeth snapped angry with her friends and Mr. Malfoy for forcing her to break the school's rules to rescue a sot. "Take his left arm, he can't walk on his own."

A couple men shouted to ask why the two women needed a sleeping drunk when there were men present willing to help them with their needs. Elizabeth contemplated turning one into a toad, but feared it was the sort of story sure to reach the school.

"You get on the broom and hold him up," Elizabeth instructed Vivien when they reached the open air outside the tavern. The blonde witch used the charm to fasten Mr. Malfoy to the broom and the two took to the air again.

"Hurry," Vivien hissed when they reached Hogwarts and Elizabeth carefully peered through the window before opening it.

"We can't let anyone see us. I don't want to get in trouble for this," Elizabeth shot back. Seeing no one in the corridor Elizabeth commanded the window to open. Vivien flew Mr. Malfoy back to Slytherin as Elizabeth shut the window. Miss Gray dismounted from her broom before returning to the house. She shook her head in amusement. Why was she worried about the minor infraction of riding a broom inside the school when she had just broken several major rules?

When she reached Slytherin Vivien and Peter had almost finished their tableau. In the far left alcove, usually occupied by students playing cards, they propped the drunken Mr. Malfoy up on a chair then leaned him forward onto an open history text. A few sheets of parchment and an open ink bottle completed the effect of a student who had fallen asleep while studying. After extinguishing the candles in the alcove to leave it in darkness Peter went in search of Sir William.

"Finish your paper, or whatever it was you were writing," Vivien instructed Elizabeth. "I'll take the brooms to our room. You never left."

"I just want to go to bed," Elizabeth complained.

"No, you must be here to confirm no one brought Mr. Malfoy in. Peter thought it all through while we were gone."

Mr. Philpott returned a few minutes later with Sir William and Professor Wood, who had joined him in the search for the missing Claudius Malfoy. _"Lumos,"_ commanded Peter, and his wand illuminated the alcove. "See," Peter told the two, "you must have missed him in the shadows. He was working on an assignment."

"That would be a first," Professor Wood muttered. He went over to look at the text and notes around Mr. Malfoy. Peter crossed his fingers and hoped if the head of Gryffindor smelled liquor he might attribute it to Sir William.

Sir William, meanwhile, had noticed Elizabeth in the same spot as when he last saw her. "Miss Gray, did anyone bring Mr. Malfoy into Slytherin or has he been here?"

Elizabeth yawned loudly, "I've been trying to finish a Dark Arts paper so I can retire for the night. I have ignored everything else, as much as possible, but I think I would have heard if anyone had brought him in."

Professor Wood heard the answer, and noted that Elizabeth had stated she _would_ have heard if someone brought in Mr. Malfoy. She did not say she had not heard someone bring him in. He reasoned, however, that students defended their own and he did not want to cause trouble for Miss Gray. "Well, Sir William, I am glad the missing lamb has been found. It looks like we can also retire for the night." As they reached the door to leave he suddenly spoke again, "I wish to ask Miss Gray about one of my students in her class."

"Should I wait for you?"

"No, her answer might be long. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sir William returned to his rooms and Professor Wood went back to the middle alcove. "You might mention to whoever provided the stage setting that the notes did not match the textbook being used as a pillow by Mr. Malfoy, and the handwriting resembles that of Mr. Philpott."

"Please, don't say anything to--"

"I do not plan to speak to anyone. But someone needs to inform Mr. Malfoy there are serious consequences to breaking the rules."

Elizabeth sighed, "I know, but--" Suddenly an idea came to her. "Could you wait here a moment? Would it be too much to ask you to write a letter to his family? I think Miss Kestrel should--"

"He is not in my house."

"True, but it demonstrates the gravity of the situation that a faculty member is worried. Miss Kestrel is very concerned about Mr. Malfoy, I would like her to speak to you about a letter."

Elizabeth sped to her room and almost pulled Vivien toward the Common Room. Reluctant at to go at first, after Elizabeth whispered her plan Miss Kestrel ran in haste to see Professor Wood. When the Gryffindor head returned to his own rooms the two witches returned to theirs. Vivien hugged Elizabeth tightly, "Thank you! Thank you! This could be my chance."


	19. New Beginnings

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created the school of Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter books, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**New Beginnings**

An unhappy Mrs. Pilton entered the herbology classroom as the fifth years left to speak with Miss Gray. "An owl just delivered a most curious letter from Mr. Titus Malfoy. He has asked to speak with you and Miss Kestrel and states that he writes in response to a letter from Professor Wood."

"Yes…"

"I would like to know your role in this matter, and why Professor Wood, the head of Gryffindor, wrote a letter to the father of a Slytherin student. I have no objection to Professor Wood writing in regard to Mr. Malfoy's poor performance in astronomy. But in that case his father would certainly wish to speak with Professor Wood or perhaps with myself. Why have I received a letter asking for a parent to meet with you and Miss Kestrel?"

"The son has, ah, been having some problems in Slytherin of late, and Miss Kestrel and I--"

"Why did Professor Wood write to Mr. Titus Malfoy? That is not his place. If you see his son experiencing some sort of difficulty you should bring the problem to the attention of Sir William. That represents the appropriate course of action. You could have even spoken with me."

"Perhaps Miss Kestrel and I erred in asking Profess--"

"You certainly did!"

"I am sorry. Professor Wood realized a problem existed and Miss Kestrel and I then asked him to write the letter. Sir William has so many other problems that we thought we should spare him."

Mrs. Pilton tapped her foot nervously. "Miss Gray, I have never felt that you were wholly honest with me, and I do not feel you are telling me the complete truth now. The Malfoys have been very generous to Hogwarts over the centuries and I do not wish an incident that might jeopardize that relationship."

"Nor do I!"

"Then you will kindly explain to me what sort of difficulties Claudius Malfoy is having, what his father has been told, and why he has requested to meet with you and Miss Kestrel?"

"I… I would rather not say."

"Miss Gray, I will not brook dishonesty from faculty. At the moment you serve in that capacity. And while I am exceedingly grateful to you for your work I will not allow someone to hide the truth."

"Were I to explain the larger story it would cause problems for several students."

"Including yourself?"

"Including myself."

The Head stared off into space for a minute. "Claudius Malfoy and possibly other students have problems of some sort?"

"I… Well, only Claudius."

"You said other students might be in trouble were the truth to be known."

"We… I broke rules to hide the truth of the matter from Sir William."

"Miss Gray, I am not interested in punishing you, or Mr. Malfoy. I need you to be candid with me. He does not do well in classes, never has. But that is hardly a secret. If he suffers from some other sort of problem I will extend such help as I am able. If you are not candid with me…"

Elizabeth weighed her options. Professor Wood knew too much of the truth for any lie to succeed with Mrs. Pilton. If the Head had not spoken with Professor Wood she was certain to do so after speaking with Elizabeth. It appeared she had been reduced to telling the truth. "Come in to Professor Saxifrage's office. This will require several minutes."

The conversation lasted a quarter of an hour. "I wish you had been honest with me earlier," Mrs. Pilton sighed. "We really aren't enemies to students. Perhaps something could have been done… I don't know why you and Miss Kestrel asked to speak to his father instead of requesting--"

"We didn't want Claudius to get in more trouble!"

"So you risked getting in trouble yourself. Miss Gray, should something like this happen again, please, please seek my help or Sir William's rather than taking this on yourself."

* * *

With the end of the competitions for specific spells and curses Dueling Club moved to the championships for years.

In addition to the wagers placed between individuals the Dueling Club organized an official pool for year, house, and school champions. A 'share' consisted of two knuts and one could wager as many 'shares' as one wished on one or more competitors. All of the money wagered on a competition would be divided by the number of 'shares' placed on the winner. Hence, if a total of sixteen shares were wagered on Mr. Wells winning the fifth year championship, and Mr. Wells managed the feat, the total pool for fifth year champion would be divided by sixteen. And if one person had bet eight shares, a second four shares, and yet another person two shares, and two individuals one share each, the first person would receive half of the money wagered, the second a quarter of the funds, and the third one-eighth of the total.

Punters decided on favorites based on performance in the early competitions, which is why some individuals, hoping to skew the odds, chose not to enter the tests in specific spells and curses.

Miss Crouch, who had won three competitions in individual spells and curses, was considered the odds-on favorite among the third years. A wizard from Gryffindor and a witch from Ravenclaw were also viewed as strong competitors and fully three-quarters of the shares in the competition were placed on one or another of the three. Elizabeth, in a show of support for Slytherin, had at least one share on every third year from her house entered in the competition, although logic dictated that the only hope Mr. Baddock or Mr Dorkins had of winning the competition required every other third year to come down with dragon pox the night before the competition and be held in the infirmary under quarantine. And she wasn't certain if Mr. Baddock could win even under those circumstances. Elizabeth purchased three shares on Miss Crouch, and ten on Miss Cooper.

"Are you expressing some odd sort of sympathy for the poor thing?" Miss Kelly asked in disbelief on hearing what her roommate had done. "Aren't you paying attention at Club meetings? The creature does nothing but lose duels to the troll."

Elizabeth had been paying attention at Club duels. In addition to her father's advice to wager on Miss Cooper Elizabeth had seen Sarah compete in more duels than any other third year. And while the limitations imposed on her in the contests usually resulted in her losing she demonstrated speed and accuracy. Mr. Bulstrode, while slow, manifested an amazing ability to take punishment and Miss Gray ranked his ability highly. To lose to Mr. Bulstrode brought no shame on the third year in Elizabeth's opinion. Allowed to compete without the strictures placed on her when she faced the brutish Augustus Elizabeth felt certain Miss Cooper would perform very well.

Attendance swelled for Dueling Club meetings once the year championships began. A crowd waited outside the door of the great hall when it was time for the meeting to begin. Given the number of duels required to establish a champion there were no individual challenges but the meeting moved directly to the third year competition.

The competition began in a double-elimination fashion. To the extent possible the first round of duels saw the third years of Slytherin face the third years of Gryffindor while Ravenclaw dueled with Hufflepuff. In the second round Slytherin students faced the wizards and witches of Ravenclaw while Hufflepuff competed against Gryffindor. After the first two rounds those students who had lost twice left the tourney, and students who had won twice were matched against those with a single win.

With the exception of Miss Cooper the punters had done very well in guessing the favorites. By the time the field had been reduced to four Miss Cooper and the Gryffindor wizard alone remained undefeated. Miss Cooper faced the Ravenclaw witch who had entered as a favorite and Miss Crouch the Gryffindor wizard. Miss Cooper defeated her opponent handily and to Poppy's great relief she defeated her opponent. Since that left Miss Crouch and the Gryffindor wizard with a loss each they dueled again for the honor of facing Miss Cooper, and this time Poppy suffered defeat.

A few minutes later Miss Cooper claimed the distinction of being Hogwarts Third Year Dueling Champion. Miss Crouch's congratulations were too marred by envy to be sincere, but Sarah accepted them willingly -- uncertain if, had their roles been reversed, she would have even been able to offer insincere congratulations.

Very few shares had been wagered on Miss Cooper to win the third year and Elizabeth profited handsomely from her faith in the young witch. Miss Gray had been willing to buy a number of shares in Mr. Bulstrode for the fourth year competition, but the large Slytherin had not entered the competition, which went to a Ravenclaw wizard.

Since men continued to be in short supply for the night of dancing at Hufflepuff Elizabeth sat at the piano all evening, turning down two invitations to waltz and wondering why she felt cross and out-of-sorts.

Miss Crouch had noted Elizabeth's odd behavior and ventured her own opinion as they returned to Slytherin in time for the ten o'clock curfew. "I fear you lacked the right partner this evening."

Rather than argue Miss Gray chose to ignore the younger woman's comment.

* * *

"Why are we out here," Mr. Bulstrode grumbled as Elizabeth ordered the team out for practice. "Gryffindor has the pitch this afternoon."

"We're running to Hogsmeade and back."

"Running to Hogsmeade?" Poppy asked in disbelief.

"And back?"

"No brooms?" Sarah finished.

"We need to build endurance. I've played three very long games as keeper. I want to be certain we have the strength to finish should our final game be a long one."

"In quidditch,"

"We fly,"

"On brooms."

"But running still builds endurance. We will be running to Hogsmeade two or three days a week for the rest of the term. I hope our time will improve. Let us begin."

Elizabeth set what she regarded as a moderate pace for the run. Turk jogged along beside her. At first the Sisters ran ahead, unwilling for any one of them to be in front of the others. Two-thirds of the way to Hogsmeade the trio fell behind Elizabeth and Turk. Augustus dropped out before the half-way point, he collapsed on the ground sweating profusely and panting for breath. Kasper Gutman and the Prophet Jeremiah left the run together as the Sisters lost their position in the lead. The two sat down and rested, hoping to rejoin the others for the back half of the run. Owl maintained a position about five yards behind Elizabeth and Turk.

When Owl passed the sisters Deborah looked over at Poppy, "I'll stop if you will," she panted.

"Will Sarah stop?" Miss Crouch gasped.

The two looked at their friend, she appeared in the same amount of distress they experienced, but they knew she would never stop if they suggested it. Without speaking they each reached forward and took one of her arms, pulling her to a stop with them.

"Why did you do that?" Sarah grumbled, but delighting inwardly to have come to a rest.

Elizabeth, Turk, and Owl reached Hogsmeade and rested a moment before heading back. "You may need to change your goal," Mr. Whisp suggested, "from improving speed to merely getting everyone here and back alive."

* * *

Charles Potter arrived at breakfast on Saturday morning to find three owls waiting his arrival. One brought a letter requesting verification of details concerning an order which had been placed for the planned expedition. The second carried a note from a friend who had graduated from Gryffindor the previous year. He recognized his father's handwriting on the outside of the envelope on the third owl's leg, but could not understand the small package on the other leg. Even without an accompanying note he identified the sender of the three galleons inside the packet.

Mr. Potter had no idea how Miss Gray had accomplished the feat, but felt certain she had done it without his father's knowledge. It had not been easy, it had cost Elizabeth a full sickle to Munin and three mice to bribe the owl the raven had identified as carrying a message for Mr. Potter.

Charles lingered over breakfast trying to think of a way to return the galleons, but Elizabeth did not appear. The Slytherin had been up earlier than usual for a Saturday and broken her fast with two slices of toast and a cup of coffee, then returned to her house. This was the day Mr. Titus Malfoy was expected at Hogwarts and she and Vivien awaited the summons to the Head's office.

At nine-thirty a house elf arrived to inform Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel of the arrival. As they walked down the hallway they heard a cry of, "Wait a moment," and turned to find Professor Wood hurrying toward them.

The regard which Mrs. Pilton held for her guest was shown in the fact she had made a small effort to organize the office. The clutter of years was beyond her ability to actually bring it to order, but the piles of paper were fewer in number – albeit higher – and there were places for people to sit.

Titus Malfoy rose when the three entered. His appearance surprised both young women. They expected an older version of their classmate with features coarsened by dissipation and overweight from indulgence. The only feature Elizabeth initially noted that the two shared appeared to be their wavy brown hair, although there were streaks of white at the elder Malfoy's temples. He was of medium height and slender of build. The elder Malfoy shook hands with the three and Miss Gray thought she detected a second similarity, a brightness of intelligence in the eyes shared by father and son. But cunning was the expressions which marked the younger Malfoy's features and sadness marked the features of the father. Vivien tried to estimate the value of the clothing worn by the elder Malfoy. The garments were neither showy nor intended to draw attention to the man wearing them, but fabric and tailoring demonstrated evidence of both refined tastes and wealth.

They sat at Mrs. Pilton's invitation.

"Professor Wood," Mr. Malfoy requested, "could you please give me a more complete account of the latest incident involving my son?"

"While I wrote to you, I believe these young women are in a position to provide a more complete accounting of the night in question."

Mrs. Pilton nodded at the two, "Will one of you please explain what happened?"

Mr. Malfoy sighed as the tale came to its end. "I cannot pretend to be surprised. I've received so many letters from you," he nodded to Mrs. Pilton "and his professors saying that, although they believe Claudius to possess a good mind, he fails to complete his work in classes or pay his instructors the proper respect. I'm at my wit's end. The only course in which he performs well is Dark Arts. I've tried any number of ways to impress upon him the value and importance of his time at Hogwarts - both the education it offers and the connections he will make for his later life. I… I don't know what I else I could have done."

Professor Wood answered, "I suspect it is a question all teachers ask ourselves when we have a student such as your son. I believe we all try our best, and we may take it as a shortcoming on our part if the student fails to use all his intellect or perform to the level we believe him capable. I have no advice to offer on what could be done with Claudius. I wish I did."

"And this is his final term. I fear there would be no time even if--" Mr. Malfoy turned to Mrs. Pilton. "Headmaster, may I inquire what disciplinary actions will be taken against my son? He will be gone at the end of the term. I would prefer he leave without the shame of an expulsion on the family name."

"And I would prefer that the incident not become public," Mrs. Pilton assured him. "Miss Gray is helping the school in the absence of our herbology teacher and Miss Kestrel is a fine student. Were the story of what happened be generally known it would raise issues of favoritism if they are not punished, yet I can not bring myself to punish them for coming to the aid of another student, even if it was not done wisely. I will ask that the two young women and Professor Wood to neither mention nor discuss the incident…" Mrs. Pilton turned to Miss Kestrel, "And if there should be any other student involved in this affair I suggest you advise him or her to remain silent as well."

Vivien nodded her head.

The discussion of what might be done to help Claudius Malfoy continued for some time, without progress being made. As the conversation began to flag and it became apparent it would soon end and Miss Kestrel quietly nudged Elizabeth to remind her to deliver her line. "Mr. Malfoy, my friend and I are concerned about your son, might we continue the conversation a little longer?" She turned to Mrs. Pilton, "We speak only as his classmates, and I would like to believe his friends. We can offer nothing on his performance in classes beyond what has already been said."

Titus Malfoy looked to the Head, "I would like to speak with students in his year and house, if that meets your approval."

Mr. Pilton shrugged her shoulders in permission. "They see him every day in Slytherin, they can provide you with more understanding than anyone else at Hogwarts."

The elder Malfoy nodded. "Thank you."

"Would you care to use my office for the conversation?"

The elder Malfoy hesitated. "I do not wish to inconvenience you. Perhaps a classroom? I would prefer privacy for the conversation. I hope for a frank discussion and I would not wish to be overheard and the news reach my son."

"You are free to use my office," Professor Wood offered.

Elizabeth noted that the condition of Mr. Malfoy's boots suggested he had left his horse or carriage at the stable in Hogsmeade and suggested the three walk to the village.

Vivien, who spent less time walking, looked apprehensive - fearing that she would not look her best when perspiring and out of breath. Mrs. Pilton noted the expression of Miss Kestrel and, without knowing the exact cause for the young woman's reluctance to walk to Hogsmeade offered her office once again, or suggested the use of a phaeton for the trip to the village. Miss Gray, correctly guessing the reason for her friend's hesitation, thanked Mrs. Pilton for the offer of the phaeton. Professor Wood excused himself from the meeting, and promised to find Morgan Dalyrumple and order the phaeton.

Polite small talk filled the ride into Hogsmeade. Mr. Malfoy knew the Gray family. Titus Malfoy had been a few years behind George Gray, but they had overlapped in their time at Slytherin. They had renewed the acquaintance when they met on First Night as Elizabeth and Claudius started Hogwarts.

"And the older of your two brothers does not duel, if I remember correctly," he commented.

"No."

"I suspect that disappoints to your father. I remember how much it meant to him."

"I am certain he wishes Edward William and I dueled, but quidditch commands our interest. My younger brother, who just started Gryffindor, will probably duel."

"Three houses… Your family is unusual. I can't recall a Malfoy in another house than Slytherin."

"And my grandfather predicts my younger sister will go to Hufflepuff. Mother's family usually attended Hufflepuff, and my father's family Slytherin."

He turned to Vivien, "Is there a house your family attends more than any other?"

"No… We… The Kestrels are a very small family."

"I can't recall any in Hogwarts when I attended. My son mentions very few of his classmates, but I believe you play whist?"

"Miss Kestrel serves as his partner more than any other woman at the school," Elizabeth assured him.

The wizard looked thoughtful. "Kestrel… I believe there is a seamstress with a shop in Diagon by that name. Family?"

"Yes, we are related" Vivien admitted. "Your son plays whist very well. I enjoy playing as his partner. Do you and your wife play?"

"My wife and I played, before her death. We never achieved the mastery of the game that Claudius enjoys. My wife was an unusual woman, she enjoyed hunting and we spent more time in the saddle than at the card table."

"I sympathize with your loss," Vivien told him. "I lost my father. It was very hard on my mother." She then began to try and turn the conversation in the direction of matrimony. "How did you and your wife meet?"

"We had known each other since we were children, which I believe is when our parents planned for our eventual marriage. She was my mother's cousin. We were wed in the autumn after I finished Hogwarts."

"One of our roommates, Charlotte Cattermole, will be married this summer," Elizabeth mentioned. "She is engaged to her cousin, James, who graduated a year ago."

"There was a Cattermole in Ravenclaw when I was at school."

Miss Kestrel, suddenly worried that she might have brought up the subject too quickly, changed the topic, "Claudius told me you had recently gone to France to add to your library. Was your trip successful?"

"I fear it wasn't. The volumes I went to see had been misrepresented by the seller. There were only two books I didn't already own, and both of them were merely compilations from older books in my possession."

Vivien turned to Elizabeth, "Claudius often talks of the family library. The Malfoys must own the largest collection of book and objects on the dark arts in Britain."

Miss Gray recognized that her friend hoped to impress Titus Malfoy as a close friend to his son, and perhaps to flatter him also in an area in which he took pride. "Even larger than the collection at Hogwarts?"

"Oh yes," Mr. Malfoy assured her. "The Malfoys have produced more than our share of dark wizards over the centuries and the collection is enormous. I hired a cataloguer to sort and organize the materials. The Wizards Guild calls on me when they need an expert on the subject. I may try to write a book on the literature."

"The library is Claudius's favorite room in the house," Vivien assured him.

The older man smiled at the memory, "An appreciation for the library is one of the few things we share. But we do have books on subjects other than the dark arts. I wish he paid as much attention to his other subjects, such as history and charms."

While he spoke they arrived in front of the Three Broomsticks and he arranged a private room to continue the conversation regarding Claudius. Vivien talked about playing whist as his partner. Elizabeth spoke of his proficiency at dueling.

The two women speaking as the friends of his son had the effect Vivien desired on the older Malfoy.

"Because you two know my son I… I am sorry, this is difficult for me. I should not be so forward but I love my son, and I don't know what to do… I apologize if I am incoherent, but I am at my wit's end and I need confidants with whom I may speak freely. You expressed an interest in his well being, can I be frank in this discussion?"

"If we can do anything to help Claudius we would be happy to do so," Elizabeth assured him.

"We brought him back when he had not returned to school and requested that Professor Wood write to you," Vivien added as a reminder.

"Thank you." Mr. Malfoy paused a minute to collect his thoughts, then sighed. "I am not certain what problem my son has with school and… other things. I often blame myself. My own father was strict, perhaps brutal might be more accurate. He did not believe in sparing the rod, whether I had done anything deserving punishment or not… I feared him, but I could not love him. I resolved I would not imitate his behavior. After my wife died I could not punish Claudius… I fear I've spoiled him. I did not want my son to fear me. Perhaps I am to blame for his behavior by my over-indulgence. Did my reluctance to use corporeal punishment stop me from bending the twig in the proper direction?"

"You should not blame yourself," Vivien said sympathetically. "You are a very different man from your own father. Would your father have wanted you to follow his model?"

"I think he wanted me to imitate him in all ways."

"But you became the man you are based on your own beliefs and values. Claudius has made decisions in his own life as you made decisions in your own."

"I still feel that I've let him down in some manner."

"You wanted your son to love you," Miss Kestrel reminded him. "I am certain that he loves you."

"I wish I had that same certainty."

Elizabeth remained silent, letting Vivien handle the conversation. "Most students at Hogwarts complain about that parents at one time or another. We will complain they are too strict, or won't grant us permission for something we desire to do, they won't buy us something we want, or are merely hopelessly out-of-fashion. I've never heard a harsh word about you from your son's lips. When you or your home are mentioned it is always with love and pride."

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate hearing that."

"Claudius speaks but little of his plans after leaving school. What will happen to him?"

"I'm not certain. He expressed a desire for a grand tour with one of his friends. I tried to use that to compel him to take his classes more seriously. Since he failed to concentrate on his studies I have told him I will not finance a tour. To let him go would certainly be an act of over-indulgence after he failed to improve at his studies. I want him to learn more responsibility. I've spoken with senior wizards of the Guild about finding a position for him, but with little success. I've considered sending him to Durmstrang - there are two manuscripts there I want copied for myself, but I fear that, without supervision, he would not get the job accomplished… I am ashamed to say that of my own son--"

"But we know it is probably true," Miss Kestrel finished.

They ordered lunch, and the women were surprised by how little he ate.

"You should not let worry over Claudius effect your appetite," Vivien chided.

"I took George the third as my model for consumption rather than the fourth," he laughed. "And my wife's interest in the hunt insured vigorous exercise."

"I should have you speak to our quidditch team," Elizabeth commented. "They fail to see the importance."

Vivien returned to the topic of Claudius Malfoy when the servant had departed. "In speaking of the future, have you considered a bride for your son?"

"I would prefer to allow him his preference in choice of partners."

"You spoke of his need to learn greater responsibility, I merely wondered. Parental choice is going out of fashion. I know my mother would not interfere with my plans, and I know Miss Gray wants to make her own decision. But some of our classmates have known since childhood who their life's partner would be. You said your own wife was chosen for you?"

"Yes."

"Were you happy?"

"It… It was difficult at first. But we became accustomed to each other and were happy. Had she lived we would have been the closest of partners."

"I simply wondered if that might not be true for your son as well. Forgive the impertinence of the question. I merely wondered if you had considered the idea."

"I've considered the idea. I'm not certain what sort of husband Claudius might make."

"We were speaking of learning responsibility. The role of husband might compel him to assume more. It is very good of you to allow him his own preference. I imagine with your family and connections there are many eligible young women being mentioned to you as potential partners."

"Very few, actually. And I fear they are more interested in my family's wealth than Claudius."

"The burden of wealth. I agree; respect for Claudius should be the first criteria you look for in a woman. Have you considered giving him responsibility for the running of the estate?"

They talked for another hour. As they left Vivien suggested, "His teachers see him only in the classroom. Miss Gray and I see him more often. Would you like one of us to write you about your son? He was unusually unhappy a week ago, but his spirits are normally better. Perhaps if you knew how he behaved in the house you might have reason to feel less concern."

"That would please me very much. Thank you."

He returned with them to the school in the horseless phaeton, then walked back to Hogsmeade. The two women watched as his figure grew smaller in the distance.

"Well?" Vivien asked.

"It was clear to me what you were doing, but I found you more subtle than I expected."

"I must be subtle. He will need to think it is his own suggestion that I marry his son."

"I'm not certain this is right."

"Of course it's right! I will make a perfect wife for Claudius. I will let him indulge his own interests without complaint. He could want nothing more from a wife. And he will be an ideal husband - asking very little of his wife."

"You are looking for so little in marriage."

"No, I am looking for so much. I want security. I want envy. I want to purchase what I want without worry whether or not I can afford something. I want to stop asking friends for favors and repay them what I owe. I want to be flattered and my opinion sought… Do you think if one of us had done what Claudius had done we would not be put out of school? Did you see the way Mrs. Pilton flattered Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'm uncertain if she flattered him, nor if she would have put me out of the school."

"You are right, teaching herbology makes you too valuable to expel. I would have been put out."

"You would have never engaged in that sort of behavior!"

"And you are missing the point!" Vivien retorted, her voice slightly raised. She caught herself. "I'm sorry, Lizzy."

"No, perhaps you are right."

"This is my chance, Lizzy. It's my big chance, I feel certain that I will be Mrs. Malfoy."

Miss Gray sighed, "All I want is for you to be happy."

"It's all I want too," Vivien assured her.

* * *

Mr. Potter loitered outside the herbology classroom as Elizabeth talked with two Gryffindor students who failed to pay attention in class. "I could threaten them with bodily harm," he offered when Elizabeth turned the offending second years free.

"If it happens again I might threaten them myself," Elizabeth muttered.

"Have you time to walk to the lake, 'Tis a halcyon day and verdant life burgeons from the sward."

"Excuse me?"

"It's a pleasant day and things are starting to turn green."

"Mr. Potter, you have the soul of a poet."

"Thank you."

"You should return it to him. It fits you poorly and he has certainly noticed it is missing. Oh, and your invitation to the lake sounds wonderful. I accept your invitation gladly."

"The way you mistreat me I should probably rescind the offer. May I carry your books?"

"No, you may not. I don't trust you."

"And this is how I am treated for trying to be polite," he sighed.

"No, this is how you are treated for that trick you pulled last time. Let me leave them in the classroom. I can come back for them later."

A fallen log near the lakeshore provided a place to sit. Gryffindor faced Hufflepuff in quidditch in a fortnight and preparation for the game and the dueling competitions occupied much of the conversation.

Elizabeth enjoyed the opportunity to talk of something other than herbology.

"Do you have a dance card for the next ball?"

"No, dance cards are for younger witches who want a memory of the evening or the more popular young women like Miss Kestrel or Erin O'Shaughnessy who require them to keep their partners straight during the ball. I gave up the practice during fourth year."

"Kitty once told me that you sometimes filled in the names on your dance card after the ball, she said the name Roger Moody appeared often."

"She told you that?"

"Well, I--"

"I'm going to turn her into a toad!"

"I shouldn't have repeated that, I--"

"What do you mean, you should not have repeated that? She's the one who had no business repeating the story!"

"I think she was angry with you one day over something, and she knew that--"

"That should never have been repeated!"

"I didn't think she was--"

"She was the one who was not thinking."

"Is there a chance you might let me finish a sentence?"

Miss Gray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What do you wish to say?"

"I've, um, forgotten."

"I certainly feel humiliated."

"Why? Because years ago you wrote a handsome wizard's name on your dance card? Women have it easier than men, you need only wait for someone to come over and ask you to dance."

"And how is that easier for us? Have you any idea what it is like to stand to the side of the room hoping someone will approach you?"

"Have you any idea what it is like to go over and ask to dance with someone and be told no?"

"There is no comparison in humiliation! How many times have you been turned down when you requested a dance? Women accept invitations with gratitude."

"I've been turned down any number of times, I--"

"Give me a precise number."

"I didn't count. I didn't know I would be tested on the subject. But I've been turned down."

"Probably because you asked the Miss Kestrels of the world when their cards are filled a week before the ball."

"Probably for this," he told her, touching his broken nose. "And I've not asked Miss Kestrel to dance."

"By the Miss Kestrels of the world I meant those who are beautiful and popular - the witches with whom everyone wants to dance. They turn men away who wait until the ball and request a dance. There are women at the ball who would like partners with whom they could dance."

"It is more difficult to ask than you imagine. And you stand around in groups! Should a young man ask a woman to dance and she turns him down it is not a private refusal but a public humiliation. Young women should space themselves well apart from one another. It would make them much easier to approach."

"We like to talk with one another while we are waiting for young men to not ask us to dance."

"You could ask us to dance."

"That is not the way it is done."

"You say it is easy to approach someone and ask her to dance, wouldn't it be as easy for you to approach a wizard and him to dance?"

"Women don't ask men to dance."

"Why not?"

"Because we don't."

"That sounds like solid reasoning. Perhaps it needs to change. You should ask someone to dance at the next ball."

"I will not."

"Perhaps it would change the ball entirely, leaving women no reason to complain if they lack partners. The women of Hogwarts are looking for a champion to set them free from oppressive tradition Miss Gray. You could be that shining example."

Elizabeth chuckled. "I fear the women of Hogwarts must wait for another champion."

"I'll pay you."

"What?"

"Three galleons if you ask me to dance at the next ball."

Miss Gray smiled sweetly, leaned toward him, placed a hand on his chest, and firmly pushed him off the log. As he lost balance he grabbed her arm instinctively to steady himself, but she was off-balance and his fall pulled her down on top of him. Their faces inches from each other they both blushed and quickly scrambled to their feet.

"I, ah, ought to get back to Hogwarts," she stammered.

"Um, me too."

They walked silently back to the school. Elizabeth could have told Charles that the greatest humiliation was men who asked her to dance merely in hopes she would introduce them to Miss Kestrel. Sometimes they would feign interest in her beyond the ball. She glanced over at Mr. Potter and wondered if he actually liked her or not. No one had pretended to have as much interest as he had shown towards her - but the two of them had disliked each other for a long time. Perhaps this was some elaborate scheme to hurt her. She needed to watch her behavior more carefully around Charles Potter.

"You and Kitty had a great preference for each other at one point," Elizabeth observed as they neared the school. "What happened?"

"We're still friends," he pointed out. "We dance at almost every ball."

"The preference was very marked."

"And it must therefore exist forever?"

"I would assume there was a reason, unless one or both of you is fickle. And which of you jilted the other?"

"Miss Gray, my friendship with your roommate is not your concern."

They parted in unhappy silence. Elizabeth was uncertain if she should be more angry with Charles or herself. After dinner that evening she managed to find a private moment with Miss Kelly for a question she recognized as more important to her than it ought to be.

"You and Mr. Potter seemed to have a great partiality for each other two years ago."

Kitty stared at Elizabeth for a moment, "I don't understand."

"He has lately paid some attention to me."

"So I've heard, although I'm still uncertain why you wished to speak with me."

Miss Gray sighed, "I am suspicious. Have you had wizards pay attention to you only for an introduction to Miss Kestrel?"

"A few times. I believe it happens to you more often because… Do you think that is what he is doing?"

"I don't know. I fear it might be. We didn't like each other for so long I don't know if I can trust him."

"And I'm still uncertain why you're asking me about fifth year."

"I want a sense of whether he's sincere in his attention."

"I can't read his mind. He has always seemed honest with me."

"I want to know what happened between the two of you, why… I'm sorry. I should not ask."

"You must enjoy his attention if you need to know why we quarreled."

"I don't know what to think. I almost feel like I'm looking for a reason to not like him. Did he mistreat you in any way?"

"Other than his accusation that I can't control my anger? Honestly, Lizzy, is my temper that bad?"

_"It certainly is."_ "No… I'm sorry. I am simply so unaccustomed to thinking well of Charles Potter that I might be looking for excuses to continue thinking ill of him."

Kitty laughed, "I always told you he was nicer than you thought. Enjoy his attentions for now, he leaves for an extended journey after school ends."

"That's true."

"Don't sound so sad, Lizzy. Nothing could come from your friendship with Mr. Potter."

"Not that I expected anything to come of it, but why do you say that?"

"The two of you are too much alike, too stubborn and insistent on your own way. If either of you had a drop of sense you would have dropped your dislike for one another years ago."

Elizabeth almost wished she had not made peace with Charles Potter, it left her feeling confused and angry with herself. She firmly resolved she would not dance with him at the ball, even if he asked. And considering the manner in which they had parted in the afternoon she did not feel confident he would even ask.

A raven had watched the previous practice session for the Slytherin team and what might have been the same large raven watched again as Elizabeth and Turk put the team through their drills. Elizabeth felt certain the bird was Munin, but it had flown off without speaking when she landed near it at the end of the earlier practice. The bird which appeared to watch them flew off again at the end of the session. Miss Gray wondered why Munin would so closely observe the team, but believed that more likely than a wild raven enjoying the sight of wizards riding their brooms.

The lesson in humility from the Gryffindor Junior had resulted in tremendous progress for Mr. Bulstrode, and Turk and Elizabeth agreed he would be ready to serve as Senior next year. He still manifested a tendency to slip from his broom and would continue to require the safety charm to hold him in position for the near future, but his ability with the club would make him a factor to be reckoned with in the game. Mr. Gutman continued to gain skill and confidence in his own ability. Turk predicted he would be able to play Junior in the final game if Mr. Bulstrode proved difficult. Elizabeth surrendered her own place in front of the hoops for most of the session to the Prophet Jeremiah. Mr. Abbot felt inadequate and exhausted after trying to stop the Sisters, but Elizabeth told him that real games would seems easy in comparison to trying to stop the trio.

Miss Gray felt the Sisters had not progressed as much as she hoped. Their class work remained the higher priority for them, and Elizabeth could not find fault with that. Further, their ability to work together remained strong. But they had fallen into predictable patterns based on their various strengths. Deborah would attempt to score at the left hoop, and Sarah and Poppy at the right. Sarah passed left to the others, and Poppy always increased elevation on receiving the quaffle. These and a number of other tells would become apparent to other chasers and keepers over the course of the game and make the Sisters less effective.

Elizabeth warned the others to watch for Ravenclaw students trying to spy on the practice sessions. She did not want Miss Fowler to obtain early news of the patterns of the Slytherin chasers.

In Autumn Term the uncertainties of the third years and the lost contact over the summer months made balls nervous affairs with hesitant students uncertain who might invite them to dance, and who might accept. In Winter Term students had a better sense of the social dynamics of the school, but the cold and gloom managed to throw a chill even into the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The warm weather meant joy for Spring Term balls.

The dance cards for Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch had been filled last month and again, and even Miss Honig's card was almost full thanks to Mr. Bulstrode's continued quest to find wizards to dance with his sister.

Little Mr. Whisp was too valuable to Augie for the help he gave Mr. Bulstrode on homework for the bully to threaten his roommate, but Mr. Whisp signed onto Livia's dance card simply as a favor to his friend. Owl's social life had grown over the year. Erin O'Shaughnessy suggestion, that he request a dance, had been unprecedented and set many tongues going. In truth she simply liked to talk quidditch with the short wizard and enjoyed his sense of humor. Still the gossip about Owl and Erin O'Shaughnessy prompted a jealous Miss Flitwick to demand three dances. And the short witch grew more upset when he explained he had asked each of the Sisters for a dance, and some of the witches in the Galens, and only had two dances left open. He promised her a trip to the confectionary in Hogsmeade.

Charles and Elizabeth did not speak again before the ball. She wondered if she should apologize, and wondered if it were the stubbornness Kitty had mentioned which kept her from making an apology. Could she be as blind to her own shortcomings as Kitty was to her own fits of anger?

She danced with her cousins and brother. She danced with the wizards of the Slytherin quidditch team, although she needed to pry Turk from Miss O'Shaughnessy.

"The two of you have not spoken all evening," Mr. Philpott pointed out to Elizabeth as the ball neared its end.

"To whom are you referring?"

"You and Mr. Potter, of course. Are the two of you being coy in public or have you had a lovers' spat?"

"I feel relatively certain that, since we are not lovers, we can't have a lovers' spat."

"Then the answer is coy."

"Let me see if I understand what you are saying. If Mr. Potter and I speak to each other, we become the object of gossip. And if you don't speak to each other, we become the object of gossip. Does that sum up the situation?"

"Quite succinctly, yes."

"Then I would rather be the object of gossip for speaking with him," Elizabeth told her friend and left him abruptly to head towards three or four Gryffindor wizards engaged in conversation. One of them nudged Charles, whose back had been towards Miss Gray. On seeing her approach he left his friends and walked towards her.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Yes."

"Miss Kelly informs me that I am a stubborn idiot and suffer from an unforgiving nature." Charles stared, unable to frame a good response. "I wanted to apologize for the conversation earlier in the week. Oh, and Miss Kelly laid the same accusation at your feet."

He found words, "I'll give you three galleons to ask me to dance with you."

She chuckled, "And I told you, the man must ask the woman for the dance."

"All right then, I'll pay you three galleons for the last dance tonight."

"Mr. Potter, you can't pay me to dance with you."

"If I can't pay you to dance with me, does that mean you'll dance with me if I don't pay you?"

"I would be delighted," she smiled.

"Even though I'm stubborn and unforgiving?"

"I suffer from the same faults, remember?"

"We should work on self-improvement," he suggested as they waited for the last dance of the ball to start, "to rid ourselves of those vices. I suggest we practice on each other."

* * *

Earlier centuries enjoyed an obesity rate vastly lower than the present epidemic. Only the very wealthy could afford to be fat, and England's Corn Laws made food costs extremely high in the early 19th century. George, later the third, was told by his fat uncle, Bloody Billy Cumberland, that George would probably outweigh him as he matured. George watched his diet to keep that from happening. (Would that his family had paid attention. His son George, later the fourth, had large appetites in all things and many referred to him in the Regency Period as the Prince of Whales.)

Jilt, for dumping someone, long predates 1836.


	20. Game 5 Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Game 5 - Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff**

The first owl to arrive from Titus Malfoy brought its message to Elizabeth. She passed the missive on to Vivien to answer. Miss Gray noticed the owl appearing at Hogwarts on later mornings also, but Miss Kestrel received all notes after the first.

Class had gone well that day. Elizabeth smiled as she straightened the room for the class Robin would teach later in the afternoon. She looked around one last time, then left the herbology classroom wondering if she should return to Slytherin and drop off her herbology notes or simply head to the history classroom to finish reading the assignment there before class began in less than an hour. She didn't want to carry her lesson plans, but there would certainly be friends to speak with in Slytherin and she feared she would have less time for reading after chatting.

She continued to muse about the best use of her time as she walked down the corridor; right turn at the next intersection for Slytherin, left for the history room. She heard someone talking, but paid no attention, until her ears caught a reference to herbology. She reached the intersection and looked in the direction of the speaker, and found Elizabeth Gray changing the assignment she had given a class of fourth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs the day before. It took Elizabeth a second to recognize herself. It took the fourth years less time to recognize they were in the presence of the boggle and the Gryffindors drew wands before Miss Gray had a chance to speak, with the Hufflepuffs then drawing theirs.

"We're getting extra credit in Dark Arts!" a Gryffindor gloated.

"She's the boggle!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"She protests too much," the other Miss Gray told the fourth years. "You must take us both to Professor Sauberkehren immediately."

"I'm Elizabeth Gray!" Elizabeth protested. "That's the boggle."

"Keep your wands on both of us," the other Elizabeth warned them. "The boggle will try to deceive you. You must guard us both carefully." Most of the wands were trained on the real Elizabeth. "Mr. Luffkin, I said you should guard us both," the second Elizabeth chided a Hufflepuff whose wand had moved from the boggle to the real Miss Gray. A fourth year Gryffindor changed his aim from the boggle to Elizabeth also.

Elizabeth's throat felt dry, the fourth years were becoming increasingly focused on her and she knew several of them were quite effective from Dueling Club.

"But there is no class in Dark Arts at the moment," the boggle reminded the students. "I'm not certain where Professor Sauberkenren will be. We need to find him for you to receive your credit. Good work all of you."

Elizabeth resigned herself to being marched under guard to the Dark Arts professor. But at least the boggle would have been captured. As the fourth years directed them down a corridor towards a staff room all wands were aimed at Elizabeth. At an intersection where the corridor in one direction turned sharply the boggle ran. The students suddenly didn't know what to do. The 'real' Elizabeth had run while they had focused on the 'fake' Elizabeth. At this point, unwilling to let the real boggle escape, Elizabeth took off running after it. The fourth years pulled themselves together enough to fire a volley of curses towards the retreating form of Miss Gray. She gritted her teeth as stinging pain shot through her right arm and she dropped her texts and papers in the hall. She caught sight of the boggle, still in her form, as it turned right at an intersection and with a burst of speed Miss Gray gained on the creature. She didn't know what to do, if she tried to grab the creature she felt certain it would change its form.

Sounds of pursuit were loud behind them. Elizabeth wished she had found some way to test how fast her boggart could run. Perhaps the creature could easily outstrip her and was only toying with her. As if the other Miss Gray could read her mind the creature taunted her with a smile. They kept running. The leaders were close enough to fire a couple more curses at them, but it was difficult to run and use a wand at the same time and their aim was off.

The two Elizabeths took a quick left as they ran down another hall and Miss Gray felt a thrill of hope. "In there," Elizabeth called pointing to a classroom, "we'll be safe." She couldn't believe her good fortune when the creature did as she suggested. She quickly pulled the door shut with her left arm. It was the Dark Arts classroom and had a variety of seals and warding spells to contain any and all of the various creatures which were brought into it. Seconds later the fourth years arrived panting from the exertion. With her right arm still in pain she could not draw her own wand.

"Seal the door," Elizabeth shouted. "I've trapped the boggle in the classroom."

None of the fourth years attempted a sealing spell.

"Seal the door!" she shouted again. She looked over and none of the fourth years had a wand aimed at the door. Instead the group had their wands trained on Elizabeth.

"You aren't even breathing hard after that run?" one panted. "We find that highly suspicious."

"Nor do we think Miss Gray could deceive the boggle."

If it was not fear that Elizabeth felt as the small crowd encircled her, wands aimed in her direction, the emotion was certainly similar.

"I am Elizabeth Gray," she insisted.

"You might be," one of her captors admitted.

"But we are taking no chances. There's at least a fifty percent chance you are not - and Professor Sauberkehren has promised a reward for the capture of the boggle."

They began to herd her back in the direction of the staff room, hoping the Dark Arts professor would be there. Miss Gray found her position disconcerting. She did not like having seven wands aimed at her and wished she knew the fourth years of Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs well enough to establish her identity through some piece of knowledge the boggle could not have known. She hoped they would find a cousin or brother in the hallway who could establish her identity… She then had a sickening thought. What if the boggle took the form of someone familiar to her in order to further convince those holding her hostage that she was not who she appeared to be? With that suspicion in her mind they turned a corner and she saw what appeared to be a familiar form.

"What have you there?" Charles Potter asked the younger Gryffindors.

"We've captured the boggle!"

"Really? Why are you so certain?"

"We saw them both together! Two of them, two Elizabeth Grays!"

"You appear to be doing better than most boggle hunters then. But what makes you certain you haven't captured your herbology instructor?"

"She claims to have tricked the boggle, but boggles are masters of deception."

Elizabeth had a sickening realization. She had not tricked the boggle the way she had imagined. It had, in fact, tricked her into doing exactly what it desired.

"Would you mind if I asked your Miss Gray a question?" Mr. Potter requested. "I think I might be able to save you from potential embarrassment if you've captured a faculty member."

"How do I know you're who you appear and not the boggle?" Elizabeth challenged him. "You might be simply trying to create greater confusion."

"Well the creature appears suspicious, that is a point--"

"I am not a creature!" Elizabeth retorted angrily.

"She certainly sounds like Miss Gray," Charles told the fourth years.

"And you are irritating enough to be Mr. Potter. The real Charles Potter could ask a question which could both prove to me that he was not the boggle and convince him of my identity."

The Gryffindor students looked hopefully at the seventh year, trusting him to solve their dilemma. Mr. Potter might have thought a little more deeply of the consequences before saying, "Very well, tell me when we became engaged."

Elizabeth slapped him.

A stunned silence fell on the fourth years as she shouted, "Are you incapable of keeping a secret?"

The whispers of the younger students to one another, which included phrases such as '…secret engagement…' and '…at the ball…' told Elizabeth that her own words would bring her fully as much trouble as his question.

Vexed and unhappy Elizabeth stood for a moment, and then Charles took her arm, "Come, Dear, it is a pleasant day for a walk along the lakeshore."

She winced in pain. "Someone hit me with a curse."

He glared at the fourth years. "You let the boggle go and hit Miss Gray with a curse?"

The students looked sheepishly at one another as Charles found a charm to end the pain. "One of you needs to gather my books and papers," she reminded them.

"I'll do that," a Hufflepuff answered.

Charles offered his arm to Elizabeth. They had gone perhaps twenty yards when Miss Gray found her voice, "How could you?"

"How could I what?"

"You know very well. Half the students in Hogwarts will have heard the story in the next half hour and all of them by supper this evening!"

"Do you think it more likely to ruin our reputations, or improve them?"

"Be serious! I've no idea what to do. How could you say that?"

"Well, you didn't give me much time. You said to ask something that would prove we were both who we appeared to be."

"And that was the best you could do? I had a higher opinion of your intelligence."

"I considered kissing you."

"You what!" Elizabeth stopped walking and stared at him.

"A kiss, on the lips."

"And if I had been the boggle?"

"It would have been quite an experience. I thought I had less chance of being slapped with what I said."

"What am I going to tell my parents? The story will reach them. You know that it will."

"I, ah, had not considered that." He took her by the arm again. "Fresh air might help the thought process."

She thought furiously as they walked out to the fallen log at the edge of the lake. Despite her efforts, however, she had no good idea. "If only I hadn't mentioned secret," she complained. "I might have passed you off as the boggle."

"I am not certain I would have enjoyed being paraded in front of Professor Sauberkehren either."

"But it would have solved my problem… Besides, you brought it on yourself, remember?"

"I don't suppose asking your brothers to remain silent would accomplish anything."

"Basil would keep silent because he loves me. I could blackmail Weasel into silence. But everyone will hear, and news will be passed to other parents, and from them to my own. Asking the entire school to remain silent would only speed up the spread."

"True."

"Memory charms… Love philters… Could I claim you used an imperius curse on me at some time or in some manner?"

"Wouldn't charging me with something like that cause even greater problems?"

"For you, perhaps. But you'll be in Siberia or some other spot of frozen tundra by then."

"No. You may not accuse me of using dark arts on you."

They sat silently for a few minutes until Mr. Potter suggested, "You might try telling your parents the truth."

She rolled her eyes, "The truth? I prefer telling them something they will believe."

"And the truth is that unbelievable?"

"I think so, yes. It also suffers from an absolute certainty of causing problems for me."

"Why?"

"If you recall, I sought to avoid the two young men my parents found ideal for me."

"But there is the truth and there is the truth, it is all a matter of how you present it. You could claim that you did not wish to choose between them and risk offending either of your parents."

Elizabeth laughed with pleasure. "Mr. Potter, you should have been in Slytherin. I'm not certain I'll accept your 'risk of offending' line but you are correct, a little truth may go a long way… It will certainly assuage my father's fears about you."

"Your father's fears about me?"

"That you and I enjoyed each other company."

He sounded somewhat hurt as he answered, "I thought we did."

"Perhaps we do now, but we certainly didn't then. You served like Professor Sauberkehren's stage beard, a harmless bit of deception."

"So I'm simply an actor in your tale, a hireling, rather than an accomplice?"

"Much safer for you to play the role of actor. Accomplice could be dangerous for you, and I don't want to create any sympathy for you by casting you as another victim of my machinations."

"And what is wrong with generating some sympathy for my role in the affair?"

"This is not about you, Mr. Potter. It is about my efforts to not insult either of my parents by… I like that line, it will certainly appear in the truth they hear. I… Where was I?"

"You weren't generating any sympathy for me."

"I feel sympathy for you… Maybe that will be in the story also. You are a minor character in the story. I appreciate my parents' concern for my happiness, but felt they were each too insistent on putting their own candidate forward--"

"They were both fine young men."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell your parents you thought they were both fine men. 'Dull and a muggle' will only insult their efforts."

"Mr. Potter, forgive me for missing your genius. You certainly ought to have been in Slytherin."

"And you must decide on your story now and share it with me." She raised an eyebrow in wonder. "I am the witness to what really happened. Should anyone ask, 'What did Miss Gray really do?' I must be able to confirm your story or it raises more questions."

"Mr. Potter, may I pay you three galleons for your work as a consultant?"

"No, you may not. But I propose we sit and talk until I know what I shall tell fellow students and your parents."

It required little time to determine those portions of the truth which should be told and those which would remain concealed. And the day and company being excellent they continued talking on the log about classes, plans, and dreams almost until the dinner hour. Elizabeth forgot about the history class entirely as they talked. By the time they returned to Hogwarts they were the only two people at the school who did not believe they were engaged to each other.

Basil pounced on them with congratulations as soon as they entered the building, and took the news that they weren't engaged very badly. The news of Elizabeth's subterfuge did not spread as quickly as the story of the secret engagement. It took fully three days of repetition before everyone had heard it. And fully half of the students preferred the story of the engagement.

* * *

Year championships ended at Dueling Club. Miss Stolz of Ravenclaw won the sixth year championship and Mr. Malfoy of Slytherin the seventh. Claudius Malfoy boasted he would use a different curse in every duel for the year, house, and school championships. Mr. Potter did not enter the competition for seventh year dueling champion. "I'll try to repeat as Gryffindor champion," he told Elizabeth when she asked. "But I don't want the other houses to learn too much of my technique before the school championship."

Miss O'Shaughnessy defeated Robin in the competition for Hufflepuff house champion. Mr. Potter of Gryffindor and Mr. Malfoy of Slytherin repeated as their house champions. Mr. Malfoy had not repeated any curse used during the year championship competition. Miss Gray felt some surprise that Mr. Bulstrode did not enter the house championship for Slytherin. She guessed that respect for Mr. Malfoy's abilities represented the reason as well as a realization that the large fourth year dueled too slowly for a championship to be likely. Very few had purchased shares on Miss Quirke, who won the Ravenclaw house championship.

* * *

The boggart in Elizabeth's wardrobe failed to appear for more than a month. She wasn't certain if the creature had finally accepted she wished it no harm or if it had died or moved on. The scream from Miss Cattermole, who imagined the creature gone and opened the wardrobe to throw in a stocking Elizabeth had carelessly dropped, confirmed it still dwelt in the wardrobe.

* * *

"I thought I always got the first dance," Robin complained during the second dance at the monthly ball.

"Mr. Potter asked… You and I never made any formal promise to each other."

"It's been so long I just assumed."

"You were dancing with Miss Lovegood. I had seen you talking with her when I arrived and then he asked for a dance."

"I didn't ask her to dance until after I saw you accept Mr. Potter. She asked about a herbology assignment."

"She was talking with you in hopes you might ask her to dance."

"Well, if you hadn't seized the opportunity to dance with… Are you certain that the two of you aren't engaged?"

"Yes," she sighed, "I am certain. I should have told people you and I were engaged, so many believe that already."

"Used to believe it," he assured her. "The common perception now is that you've thrown me over for Mr. Potter."

"Jealous?" she teased. "Perhaps Miss Lovegood hopes to fill the vacant spot in your heart caused by my desertion."

"Someone needs to fill the vacant spot in your head," her cousin grumbled.

Charles had requested the final dance of the ball with Elizabeth during the first dance. With the rumors of their engagement still fresh in the popular imagination she spoke but little with him for most of the night and hoped for some other scandal to receive the attention of the gossipmongers. In her mind Turk and Miss O'Shaughnessy should have received more attention, but they had become too firmly entrenched in the public mind as a couple to remain newsworthy. Miss Flitwick's interest in Owl could have drawn attention, but the wizard's name appeared on many dance cards and she avoided the scandal of a public fit of jealousy and so the two remained immune from scrutiny. As Charles came to claim Elizabeth for the final dance, however, an incident occurred certain to generate more discussion than the captains of the Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch teams dancing together.

"I can't believe she asked him to dance," Elizabeth whispered.

"We Gryffindors are known for our courage."

"Women do not ask men to dance."

"She asked, and they are dancing."

"He was too embarrassed to refuse."

"I once suggested that perhaps the women of Hogwarts merely needed a champion to step forth and break tradition. I offered you the chance to lead, but you refused. You could be a follower now. Will you ask me for a dance at the next ball? If you put in your bid early enough I might still have room on my dance card."

"Mr. Potter, I will not ask you to dance. It is an area in which you must take the lead. But my own dance card is empty for the next ball and I would be happy to accept an invitation… Perhaps not for the first dance. We put Robin's nose out of joint by… Did Miss Lovegood urge you to ask the first dance to give her an opening with my cousin?"

"You suffer from a suspicious nature."

"I come from Slytherin. And you did not answer the question."

"She has spent a great deal of time sighing over your cousin. If I must tell the truth, I made the suggestion to her."

Elizabeth smiled, "And is that the truth, or the truth?"

"Oh, the former, certainly. I would not try and deceive you with the truth."

"You could have done well in Slytherin."

"And you could have done well in Gryffindor. I hope your brother keeps as well as you."

"You would not want me. I suffer from a suspicious nature, remember?"

He grinned, "I'm willing to forgive you."

"I may be less willing to forgive you. This morning I found three galleons in my wardrobe."

"You are fortunate. All the house elves leave in my wardrobe are clean robes."

"So you used house elves rather than Miss Kelly?"

He tried his best to look shocked, "You imply I had something to do with that?"

"I do not imply; I accuse."

"You accuse an innocent man?"

"No, I accuse a rogue, albeit a charming one." She found herself wishing he did not have to accompany his father to eastern Russia.

* * *

The Saturday of Gryffindor's game against Hufflepuff dawned gray and dreary, but Sir William had promised it would be clear and sunny by the time the game began.

As had been the case in previous game the majority of the team wore Hufflepuff's colors. The surprise to the others was the fact Elizabeth did not. "I have a brother in Gryffindor, remember?" she reminded them when Owl asked her about the Slytherin scarf.

"You have a brother in Ravenclaw as well." Mr. Bulstrode commented.

"Very well, I have a brother I like in Gryffindor."

"Perhaps you also."

"Like another wizard."

"From Gryffindor house," the Sisters suggested.

"Cheering for Hufflepuff today, or merely Mr. Andrews?" Elizabeth asked.

As the witches teased one another Robin stopped at the table to ask a question about a herbology class. He colored slightly, but maintained control of his temper. Elizabeth had always worn Hufflepuff colors when his house played Ravenclaw or Slytherin, just as he had always worn Slytherin colors when her house faced the same adversaries.

"I had not realized you were so serious about Gryffindor's captain," he said coldly.

"I'm wearing Slytherin colors," she protested. "How can you say that?"

"The point is; you are not wearing Hufflepuff colors."

"I want Slytherin to win the quidditch cup this year," she snapped. "If you win today there is a chance Hufflepuff could take it. But, if you lose today your house is out of the running, and Gryffindor can't win. If we can beat Ravenclaw by a large enough margin next month Slytherin can win the cup."

"_If_ you beat Ravenclaw," Robin reminded her. "That is rather a large if." He forgot to ask the question which brought him to the Slytherin table and returned to his team.

As the Slytherin team joined the other students streaming to the quidditch pitch Elizabeth wondered if she should have talked with her cousin first. She had no serious interest in anyone on the Gryffindor team, Mr. Potter planned to leave Britain soon after graduation and an infatuation would be pointless. Her motives were simply selfish, she wanted Slytherin to win the cup - nothing more. Robert captained his house team, he must understand her motives; he wanted his house to win the honor also.

After they found a place to sit Elizabeth looked out to the teams preparing for the game. Mr. Potter stared at her with a broad grin on his face. He nodded and waved in her direction. Elizabeth felt her face warm with a blush and made a small nod in return, wondering why she found herself smiling and feeling happy.

The usual small talk, and often smaller bets, filled the time until the start of the game.

"Prophet," Mr. Bulstrode asked Mr. Abbot, "who will win?"

"I don't know. I don't have the visions all the time - and I seldom get them very far in advance."

"You're hoping to place a bet?" Mr. Gutman asked the fourth year.

"I hear the sickles jingling in your pocket too."

"I plan to place a small wager on Hufflepuff… But might reconsider if the Prophet knew something."

"And if you get one of your premonitions," Augustus threatened, "don't tell anyone outside the team."

"I don't know if you have second sight or not," Owl admitted, "but you said that, if you receive one of these revelations, it seldom comes very far in advance… What is the earliest you have ever received one?"

"Two and a half days, but that was very unusual."

"Do you ever see anything important?" Miss Honig demanded.

"Or only inconsequential items like sport scores?"

"Ever see test questions in advance, or know who will ask whom to dance?" Miss Cooper finished.

"Usually just sport scores," the first year admitted. "Although sometimes I can see who will become ill."

"Such."

"A waste."

"Of talent," the Sisters sighed.

Owl stood and waved as a troop of Ravenclaws arrived, but Miss Flitwick still stood searching the crowd for a sign of the short wizard. Finally Augie stood and lifted his friend high in the air, to the great embarrassment of both his friend and the short witch - who nevertheless came to sit with the Slytherin team.

During the game Elizabeth watched the contest at Junior beater with more interest than she expected. Miss Osgood, the Gryffindor witch, lacked the bulk and muscle associated with Seniors, but she demonstrated the skill and cunning necessary for the position and the same fearlessness she had shown playing against Mr. Bulstrode. Clearly Miss Osgood wanted the Senior position when Mr. Potter left. Hufflepuff had the best Junior that year in Miss O'Shaughnessy, but the large woman needed every bit of her strength and experience to fend off the attacks of the smaller woman. The Seniors, Robert and Charles, did not quite equal Turk in defensive play, nor Mr. Diggory in offensive but they balanced each other well and played solid games.

"You are watching Mr. Potter very closely," Miss Cooper observed.

"I'm, ah, trying to assess his skills as a beater."

"Of course, she might have been watching her cousin," Miss Honig pointed out.

"But she readily admitted that Mr. Potter drew her attention." Miss Crouch concluded.

Miss Gray considered asking who would comfort Mr. Andrews if Hufflepuff lost again, but concluded that remaining silent made more sense.

The Twins and Bishop had more experience at chasing than the Hagrids and Mr. Archer, but only Elizabeth ranked above Alfie Longbottom among the current keepers. Mr. Andrews, in his first year of play, had less success stopping the Gryffindor chasers, but he faced fewer scoring drives because Hufflepuff dominated the quaffle. With the strength and weaknesses of their chasers and keepers balancing each other scoring remained close. Since the house championship was determined by total points scored in all three games, however, long games could work to the advantage of both teams.

The game lasted for hours, and Elizabeth found time to watch Gryffindor's seeker. At first she wondered why both Weasel and Owl praised him. The African flew like no one she had ever watched and her first response was simply to dismiss him as a novice. But the longer Miss Gray watched Mr. Jones the more she realized his unorthodox style served to complement his hunting skills.

Elizabeth sighed, both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw would count on strong teams for next year. Whoever replaced her as captain could not be assured a winning season.

The lead went back and forth between the teams several times during the day. As evening drew closer Hufflepuff enjoyed a fifty point lead when Mr. Jones of Gryffindor let out a shout and took his broom in a dive which left spectators certain would end with his death as he crashed into the ground. His feet brushed the top of the grass on the pitch as he pulled out of the dive and, with the speed he'd gained on the dive, caught the snitch.

Gryffindor students and fans chanted "Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!" as the black man flew a victory lap around the field.

Robert and Charles shook hands for the last time on the quidditch field.

Sarah and Poppy practically ran towards the Hufflepuff keeper to be the first to offer sympathy. Miss Honig walked more slowly. The red-haired Mr. Andrews had become such a fixture by studying with the Sisters that she considered him a close friend. Elizabeth joined the group offering consolation to the Hufflepuff team.

"A small party tonight at Gryffindor," Charles mentioned when Elizabeth offered congratulations. "We celebrate not losing every game this year. You're invited."

"I'd be delighted. What time?"

* * *

The day after the game dawned warm and sunny. Three of the seventh year Slytherin wizards sat at the table when Elizabeth went in for breakfast.

"Turk sleeping late?" she yawned.

"Oh, he's been up for _ages,_" Mr. Philpott assured her. "He and that Hufflepuff witch were going to rent a cabriolet for a ride in the countryside. One feels pity for the poor horse."

"They might not be back until Wednesday," Mr. Ollerton commented.

"They aren't so large," Mr. Malfoy contradicted.

"I imagine there are other reasons for the two of them to be slow in returning," Mr. Philpott giggled. "And you were very late getting home from Gryffindor this morning," he scolded Elizabeth. "It must be pleasant, as faculty, to excuse yourself from the curfew which restricts the rest of us."

Miss Gray's only response was to stare at an empty serving platter and ask, "Did the three of you devour all the bacon?"

Elizabeth and Robin spent the afternoon in the greenhouses tending the plants and working on lesson plans for the remainder of the term. He still showed irritation for her lack of support in the game as the day began, but forgave her as they worked together.

Turk and Miss O'Shaughnessy missed supper, but they sought Elizabeth when they returned from Hogsmeade. "Can we speak with you a moment, _privately_," the happy Brigid requested.

"Certainly," Miss Gray agreed, and took them to herbology classroom. As she led them down the corridor the other two held hands and the Hufflepuff witch fidgeted with happiness.

"Miss Gray, you can't tell anyone, but--"

"I'm not certain I--" Elizabeth tried to object.

"Torquil and I are married."

Miss Gray's jaw dropped, "You went to Gretna Green?"

"Not that far," Turk grunted.

"You know what I mean," Elizabeth snapped. "You were wed over some anvil when school rules--"

"No anvil," Mr. Lennox protested.

"You know what she means, Dear," the former Miss O'Shaughnessy and newly minted Mrs. Lennox chided her husband.

"Why couldn't you wait until after term?"

"Our parents do not approve."

"Who have you told?" Elizabeth sighed. "You must be careful to not let the news spread or it will surely reach your parents and faculty… You should not have told me."

"You are not faculty. You are a friend. And we've only told you and my sister," Brigid assured her. "We need at least one confidant in each house for those times when we're together."

"So when Turk is off with you I can assure his other friends in Slytherin, 'Oh, he's in the library studying charms' or some other lie?"

"Please?" the tall man requested.

"Very well… But I still don't see why you couldn't wait. Eloping will not make your parents more accepting."

"No, but a grandchild on the way might."

"You're…"

"No," Mrs. Lennox blushed, "but by the end of term I might be."

* * *

The training sessions for Slytherin's quidditch teams continued to go well. Everyone now survived the run to Hogsmeade, and the Sisters could run part of the way back, albeit at a slower pace. Elizabeth tried to time the runs to allow them a chance to observe the Ravenclaw team practicing, but Rose ordered her team to practice basic drills when the Slytherin team came near.

Since Owl spent so little time searching for the snitch in practice Elizabeth assigned a new task for him. She told him to watch the trees near the pitch for a raven. "Well," she demanded as a session ended, "did you see anything?"

"There was a bird that appeared to observe us… Very peculiar behavior."

_"Not that peculiar,"_ Elizabeth thought. "A raven, as I said?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth felt apprehesive about the final game. Slytherin had three chasers with incredible potential they had not used, and poor habits she suspected Ravenclaw knew. Her rebellious Junior might bolt from hatred of one of her chasers. And her seeker watched every other aspect of the game more closely than he searched for the snitch - assuming he even lived until the final game. Miss Gray happened to observe Owl sneaking back into the building one evening almost at dark with a second year Slytherin witch, Claudia Stolz, both with their hair and clothing in disarray. Since then she had twice taken note of the two of them disappearing after dinner. Elizabeth feared her seeker dying at the hands of a Ravenclaw witch, either a jealous Miss Flitwick or Miss Stolz, the little German's older sister and sixth year dueling champion.

On Saturday Munin brought a message from her father. While Mr. Gray's business ventures had gone well since the disappointment on the previous summer his concern for the school dominated the communications and he asked Elizabeth for detailed descriptions of events at Hogwarts. As she finished her report she asked the raven, "Do you have a preference for any house over others?"

"I don't understand your question."

"I just wondered if you had a greater fondness for Ravenclaw than any other house."

"There is no profit in preferences."

"So, if I offered you more to betray my brother than he paid you--"

"You could not pay me enough to betray a client."

"Then you have a preference for Ravenclaw."

"I said no such thing. Were to I appear unreliable in my services it would discourage trust. You could not pay enough for me to risk my reputation."

"That is very honorable of you."

"No, merely good business."

"Thank you for your candor."

The bird flew off. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she watched it leave. In her opinion Munin had confirmed her suspicions by declining to work as a spy for her. She should assume that Miss Fowler possessed a working knowledge of her chasers' idiosyncrasies. She could, in the long term, use that to encourage the trio to broaden their skills. But in the short term it threatened Slytherin's chances in the final game of the year.

In the afternoon she mentioned her fears to the Sisters. As she hoped it made them promise to work harder. The next morning the three joined her at breakfast.

"We discussed," Miss Crouch began.

"The problem."

"Last night." Miss Cooper finished. "Mr. Andrews offered."

"A suggestion that."

"Might help us."

* * *

Elizabeth could not tell Charles, "That wasn't funny" because of a serious lack of evidence for anything being funny in the early 19th century. Humorous or amusing was about as entertaining as it got. (Seriously, the word funny appears not to have been in use at the time. Elizabeth could have complained, "It's not a joke!" however.)

Cabriolets had two wheels and were drawn by a single horse, think of a small sports car whose size insures you can tell any obnoxious friend who requests a ride when you're going out on a date, "Sorry, no room."

After 1753 English law required those under twenty-one who wished to marry obtain parental consent, and the process of getting married could be complicated (and expensive). For a time only the Church of England could perform legal marriages in England. On the other hand, in Scotland boys could marry at fourteen, and girls at twelve without parental consent. You didn't even need the church's blessing - tell two witnesses you were married and you were. Gretna Green, the first Scottish town over the border on the main post road from England, served as the quickie marriage/elopement center for England. "To go to Gretna Green" meant to elope. Legend identifies blacksmith shops as the place where couples in a rush often found their two witnesses, hence the phrase 'married over an anvil'. Scotland's laws tightened in 1856, but some modern wedding chapels in Scotland continue to have the couple exchange their vows over an anvil rather than an altar.


	21. Dueling Tournament

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Dueling Tournament**

Every student at Hogwarts attended the competition for school dueling champion. More than half of the students competed for the honor, although some third and fourth years preferred to wait until fifth year. Elizabeth felt surprised that Augustus Bulstrode, who had passed on the year and house competitions, entered the contest for school champion.

During the first night of the competition those who dueled did so on the main floor of the Great Hall. On the second night, the next Wednesday, the duels would be fought on the faculty platform. A larger faculty panel served as judges both weeks. In addition to the Dark Arts professor and Professor Thomas, the faculty advisors to the club, Mrs. Pilton and the heads of the four houses sat at the judges' table. Professor Thomas asked Miss Gray to sit at the judges' table and serve as recording secretary for wins and losses.

The first night served to winnow the field of duelers down to the final sixteen who would compete for the title. Official betting did not happen until the second week, although duelers often placed small wagers among themselves for who would last longer in the competition. The more realistic wizards and witches in the competition regarded simply competing in the second week of the competition as a high honor.

Like the year and house championships the contest began as a double elimination tournament. Even with the first two rounds being conducted as swiftly as possible the competition always ran unusually long into the evening.

A hush fell on the crowd whenever Mr. Malfoy rose to duel. Everyone knew his boast and he had already used the more familiar curses and dueling spells in the year and house competitions. Slytherins, and even some other students, cheered wildly as he won using less familiar curses and spells.

Only two third years lasted to the fourth round, Sarah Cooper and Poppaea Crouch of Slytherin. And only one remained for the final round of the first night. The judges were as nervous as the students delighted when Miss Cooper was paired against Mr. Bulstrode. They each had one loss. Whoever lost would be eliminated from this year's competition, whoever won made it to the final sixteen. While Professor Thomas whispered to the other judges that the pairing should be redone the students who had seen the first competitions between the two vividly described the stories to those who had not.

Professor Sauberkehren issued a warning to the pair before the duel began, the only warning he felt necessary to issue all night. "In the competition you are free to use any spells and curses specifically mentioned as accepted in the club rules. You may use spells and curses not specifically listed only if they cause no permanent physical harm or you know the charm to cure the effect of the curse. Do you both understand that?"

They nodded. He wondered if he should define 'permanent physical harm' more precisely.

"Any violation will result in the other being declared the winner, and the perpetrator of the violation put out of Dueling Club. You both understand that also?"

The two nodded to the Dark Arts professor, then gave each other a cursory bow.

Miss Cooper's stunning spell staggered the fourth year, but he didn't go down. Before he could recover fully a conjunctivitis curse made his right eye swell shut. Before she could blind him in the other eye as well Mr. Bulstrode's stunning spell knocked her from the dueling field and the competition.

Through the year the two had ignored dueling etiquette in regard to the final handshake. Neither would have offered a hand to the other nor would the other have accepted. For the final duel of the year she offered her hand and he took it - from force of habit and without thinking.

"Win this damn thing," she hissed at him, quietly enough that no one else could hear. "I only lose to champions."

He nodded his head slightly to acknowledge her words. He correctly interpreted them more as threat than encouragement. But he certainly intended to do his best to win. Only two wizards and two witches made it through the first night without a loss. They would be the favorites in the betting pools. Mr. Malfoy of Slytherin and Mr. Potter of Gryffindor shared the honor with Miss Quirke and Miss Stolz, both of Ravenclaw.

At the end of the first evening the four stood with the other twelve students, who had only lost in one round, at the front of the Grand Hall. The older students from other houses were often less known to younger students and the Dark Arts Professor introduced the sixteen to the students after offering them his congratulations. Joining the four without a loss were three Gryffindor wizards, Archer, McGonagall, and Schmidt; two members of the Ravenclaw quidditch team, Violet Pettigrew and Gaius Diggory; three Hufflepuffs, Robin, Brigid, and Mr. Dippet; and four Slytherins, Augustus Bulstrode, Vivien, Turk, and Victoria Savage.

It had been four years since a fourth year made it to the second night of competition, that honor belonging to Mr. Malfoy who most regarded as the favorite in the current competition. Whether Mr. Bulstrode or Mr. Dippet of Hufflepuff deserved the distinction of least likely to win would be debated for the next week. Those on one side argued that fourth year dueled too slowly for the contest, while those on the other held that only the luck of drawing weak opponents had preserved Mr. Dippet.

As the students filed from the Great Hall to return to their houses Otto Sauberkehren looked over the finalists and smiled. "The best balance we've had among the houses in years. It should insure an interesting competition.

Mrs. Pilton tried to recall how many belonged in each house. "Exactly how did it divide?"

"Four each from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw," Professor Thomas told her, "with three from Hufflepuff and five from Slytherin."

Slytherin's quidditch team did almost too well at practices. Qualifying for the dueling championship had restored some of his swaggering over-confidence to Mr. Bulstrode, but didn't help him stay on his broom any better. Elizabeth felt happy Miss Cooper didn't make it through to the second night of dueling, she would probably have been insufferable in her treatment of Miss Crouch if she had. Even Owl managed to focus better on seeking. The team appeared certain they had improved to a point where they could beat the Ravenclaw team that defeated Hufflpuff two months earlier. Elizabeth worried that Ravenclaw had sharpened their skills in the last two months as well, and knew Miss Fowler had a better sense of the Slytherin chasers than she possessed of Ravenclaw's.

The entire team could now manage the run to Hogsmeade at a good pace and only Mr. Gutman and Mr. Bulstrode required a short rest on the way back. A long game represented Slytherin's best chance for the quidditch title, and Elizabeth felt her team ready.

Most students regarded the last ball of the school year as the most important. More than any other dance of the school year everyone observed who danced with whom unusually often, and the final dance of the final ball was always closely watched as a sign of declared preference.

Miss Kestrel felt under siege for the final ball of the term. It represented the last opportunity for Wizards who had never managed a dance with her. Mr. Malfoy seldom attended the dances, but she wanted him on her dance card twice. She convinced him he should dance with each of the seventh year witches, which also obligated her to dance with the other seventh year Slytherin wizards. She kept the last dance open as she pondered how to insure her final dance at Hogwarts would be with her future husband.

Little Erin O'Shaughnessy felt only slightly less besieged. She owed her advantage over Miss Kestrel to the fact she would return to school in the autumn and could be asked for dances then. She planned to leave the last dance open, telling her friends she didn't want to start any rumors because of her final partner of the school year. The story she told was partially true. She would go without a partner rather than be the subject of romantic speculation. On the other hand, by keeping her last dance free she remained available if Mr. Fletcher or one of a few other wizards she admired asked her to dance at the ball.

In Ravenclaw Miss Fowler refused to choose between Weasel and Mr. Wells. Both begged for the honor of the last dance. While she accepted two dance invitations from each she gave Mr. Goyle the first dance of the evening, and Mr. Cairo the last.

Balancing the witches who were madly sought after were the witches looking for some sign of interest at the final ball to give them hope over the summer. Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch both hoped for some sign of preference from Mr. Andrews, but the red haired Hufflepuff remained committed to a course of cheerful equality and asked them both for two dances. He only asked Miss Honig for a single dance, but asked her for the final dance of the night. Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch knew Miss Honig to be practically engaged and didn't fear her as competition. The disappointment each one felt at not being asked by Mr. Andrews for the last dance was balanced at the relief each felt that he had not asked her rival. Miss Flitwick obviously wanted a sign from Owl and felt she received two, he asked her for the last dance of the year and did not request a dance from Erin O'Shaughnessy.

And Miss Lovegood, having survived the whispers associated with daring to ask Mr. Fletcher for a dance at the previous ball, felt willing to ask again. Robin spent three days dodging the Gryffindor witch before Elizabeth scolded him as they worked on the examination questions, "You must talk with her."

"What do I say?"

"You either accept her, or you break the poor girl's heart."

"But--"

"The choice is yours. She is clearly smitten with your charms. She doesn't know you well and hopes you have a pleasant nature to go with your handsome face… You'll probably crush her spirits whether you dance with her or not."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, if she thinks you are worthy of pursuit she clearly doesn't know you well. She imagines you some sort of knight in shining armor. If you refuse to dance with her, she will be disappointed at your cruelty. If you dance with her she will discover you are not as wonderful as she dreams."

"Are you certain? Lord knows I've never demonstrated how charming I can be to you."

"Doesn't matter. You know what they say about Hufflepuff men."

"Actually I don't, although one does hear stories of Slytherin women. How many dances do you plan with Mr. Potter?"

"Only one or two. Last ball. There are a number of wizards with whom I want to dance."

"First and last for Mr. Potter?"

"Only the last for certain. I'm hoping my cousin asks me for first. I've not always treated him well the last few weeks."

"I'm certain he forgives you."

"But, getting back to the very forward Miss Lovegood. She is pretty."

"She's not the smartest witch in herbology."

"She admires you greatly… But, as you say, she's not the smartest witch at Hogwarts."

"I only spoke of herbology. She is very sweet."

"So you'll stop cowering when her name is mentioned and dance with her?"

"Fine, I will dance with her. Can we return to the lesson plans now?"

The final ball of the school year was always beautiful and sad for those who danced with the partner they desired. The melancholy of whether a preference would continue in the fall remained on the minds of the students who would return in the autumn, while seventh years wondered if they would see their partner again. The melancholy weighed unusually heavy on Miss Gray and Mr. Potter as they danced. Elizabeth studied some of the faces of the other dancers, wondering if her face mirrored the emotions she felt as clearly as the faces of some of other dancers. At least Miss Kestrel looked happy as she danced with Mr. Malfoy. Elizabeth wondered how her friend had managed the feat.

* * *

Elizabeth suggested Charles leave his books in the Herbology room with hers before they went out to walk along the lakeshore. The sat and talked on 'their' log before returning to Hogwarts. She asked about his travel plans. He now hated talking about leaving Britain, but had promised his father to accompany the expedition. He wondered what Elizabeth would be doing when he returned, and feared her parents would have found a more suitable partner for her by that time. Miss Gray hated to hear of his plans, but requested he describe the trip to remind her of the impossibility of a serious preference between the two of them.

They returned for their books. She smiled as he headed in the direction of Gryffindor tower. Back in his room he would discover she had slipped the three galleons into his text book. In her own room she carelessly dropped her texts on her desk and frowned at an unexpected sound. She flipped open the textbook for second year herbology and discovered the same small parchment wrapped envelope she had put among Mr. Potter's papers.

The doors to the Great Hall remained closed at the hour when the competition for school dueling champion was to begin. Outside the Hall students pressed against the doors, waiting for them to open. Inside the Hall the judges met in hurried conference. "Are you certain he was in no condition to serve as judge?" an anxious Professor Sauberkehren asked Professor Wood.

Professor Thomas answered, "Trust us, Otto, he needs to remain in his bed and sleep it off."

Quartus Quirrell, head of Ravenclaw, proposed "I think we should hold the tourney without a Slytherin judge. Who wins, or loses, seldom requires a decision from us."

"But on those occasions when the judges need to determine it is important that we have the full number."

"I still believe it is not necessary," Professor Quirrell insisted. "But if the rest of you do, I suggest Mr. Dalyrumple be asked to serve."

Professor Wood objected, "While I believe Mr. Dalyrumple could serve in the capacity I think appearances demand a Slytherin representative among the judges. I suggest asking Elizabeth Gray to serve."

"Impossible," Professor Quirrell protested, "you can not have a student sitting among the judges.

"Oh, sorry," the vampire apologized. "I missed that in the rule book… Can you tell me what page it's on?"

"Well, it's not… I mean, it simply isn't done."

The Gryffindor head turned to Professor Sauberkehren, "She assists you with dueling activities?" The German nodded. "She knows the etiquette?"

"She does. Miss Gray performs poorly at dueling, but she has perfect knowledge of what should be done."

"Do you think she could serve fairly as a judge?"

Otto thought for a minute, then nodded again, "Ja. She would be acceptable."

"She served as recording secretary last week," Professor Thomas reminded the head of Ravenclaw.

"Which is not the same as serving as judge," he reminded her.

Professor Ogden of Hufflepuff had remained silent during the discussion, but appeared to have warmed to the idea, "And you need to remember, Quartus," he told the head of Ravenclaw, "Miss Gray teaches herbology courses. I say we extend an invitation to her."

"Fine," he muttered, "but I'll be watching her."

"You might try watching the duelists," Professor Wood laughed. "We might need to render a decision on a match."

The door to the hall was opened only wide enough for the Dark Arts professor to bellow they needed Miss Gray in the Great Hall. He opened it wider to admit her, told the students to expect an additional five-minute delay, then closed it again.

As the students found places to sit Professor Thomas suggested Professor Quirrell find a Ravenclaw student to serve as recording secretary.

The first contest of the evening saw Mr. Potter quickly dispatch Hufflepuff's Mr. Dippet.

Vivien had survived to the final night largely through the good fortune of only facing one witch the first night of competition. There were very few wizards at Hogwarts willing to curse the beautiful woman in any fashion at all. Vivien did not duel poorly, there was simply a question as to whether she should have been there the second night. Of course that question would not have been asked by the wizards in the room and Vivien thought that meeting Claudius Malfoy in the final round of the school championship would impress Titus Malfoy. Miss Kestrel hoped she would draw a wizard for the first round of the championship night. She paled as Professor Sauberkehren announced she would meet Miss Quirke of Ravenclaw. "Don't hurt my face," Vivien murmured as they faced each other. A minute later she returned to sit by Mr. Dippet.

Students applauded when Claudius Malfoy found an obscure curse unfamiliar to anyone but Professor Sauberkehren to defeat Gryffindor's Mr. Schmidt. The professor felt oddly torn as the best student he'd had at Hogwarts faced one of the two Germans in the competition. At least he could take comfort in the victory Miss Stolz of Ravenclaw enjoyed over Miss Savage of Slytherin.

Miss O'Shaughnessy, at least as far as most people knew, managed to defeat Mr. McGonagall of Gryffindor to last to the next round. Of course when Turk survived his contest against Mr. Diggory of Ravenclaw, in the longest duel so far of the evening, it meant that he would be facing his wife in the second round. Without knowing the two were married the simple fact the couple would duel each other brought a current of expectation to the next round.

Robin's victory over Mr. Archer of Gryffindor was a cleanly fought duel which looked worthy of championship competition. Those who thought a fourth year had no place in the contest worried about the ease of Mr. Bulstrode's victory over Miss Pettigrew of Ravenclaw and some wished they had purchased shares on the bully.

Galens, wondering what had happened to Sir William, consulted the victors at the end of the first round to insure everyone felt capable of the second round. Small bets among the students were collected based on whether or not certain individuals had survived through the first round or not.

Charles Potter managed to defeat Miss Quirke, but it was much more difficult duel than his first. Beaters tended to do well at dueling since they often possessed the strength to stand despite a curse. He took a couple solid curses before his win. "Well fought," he complimented her as they shook hands.

"Thank you," she nodded before going to sit with those who had been eliminated.

Charles Potter would face the winner of the Malfoy-Stolz competition. Mr. Malfoy employed an obscure vertigo curse in the duel. It might have been less effective against a quidditch player whose experience on a broom provided some protection. Students weren't certain if the curse was especially effective, or Miss Stolz particularly vulnerable, but the witch fell the floor and became ill. There was a brief pause to clean up the dueling field before the competition could continue.

No one knew quite what to expect when Turk faced Brigid. Mr. Lennox had not wanted his wife to duel, but she had insisted it would look peculiar if she did not. Since she might be with child he did not want to risk harming her, but he did want her out of the competition. She did not want to hurt him. The two fired weak curses at each other, wholly inappropriate for a championship competition. After a few minutes some students began to jeer the couple and at the judge's table Professor Thomas muttered, "Can we declare they both lose?"

Turk hit her leg with a striking spell which knocked her down. He rushed to help her to her feet as Professor Sauberkehren declared him the winner. Turk would face the winner of the Bulstrode-Fletcher duel in the next round.

Both beaters were strong, and Robin clearly the faster. The women of Hogwarts wanted the Hufflepuff quidditch captain to win. Many third and fourth year wizards, at least those not in Hufflepuff, found themselves cheering reluctantly for the bully. They didn't approve of the strong-arm tactics he'd used against them during the year, but the idea of a fourth year still winning this late in contest inspired them.

Robin and Augie threw strong curses at each other and scored clean hits. The Slytherin planted his legs apart and hoped he could remain upright after Mr. Fletcher hit him with a curse that left his legs feeling like jelly. The bully sighed with relief as he finally watched Robin go down. He heard himself declared the winner by the Dark Arts professor and then slowly collapsed himself. Robin managed to regain his feet for himself, and came over to offer congratulations as the Galens helped Augustus back on his feet. "Well fought."

"Thanks," the fourth year said with sincerity. "Not certain I can take another round like that."

The Galens requested extra time to work with Augustus, but Professor Sauberkehren told them the third round would begin on schedule. If Mr. Bulstrode still needed more time to recover before his contest with Mr. Lennox he would be given it after the Malfoy-Potter duel.

Mr. Bulstrode no longer felt confident about the contest, there were no easy victories left and he had taken a beating in his last round while Turk remained strong and fresh. He saw requesting extra time to recover as a sign of weakness and damaging to his reputation, but feared he might need to make the request to have any hope of surviving against Mr. Lennox.

The field of sixteen had been reduced to four, and three were from Slytherin. That fact did not concern Mr. Potter, but he found the confidence of Mr. Malfoy disconcerting and wondered what unusual sort of curse he might face. Mr. Malfoy's battles were anticipated with relish, and even those who did not wish Slytherin to win still wished to see what the Slytherin champion would do.

Mr. Potter hoped a disarming spell might knock the wand from the Slytherin's hand and allow him more time to launch a stunning spell or some curse to put Claudius out of the duel. He knew Claudius to be quick, and in his own haste to disarm his opponent Charles failed to hit the Slytherin's wand hand. Before he could recover and fire another spell Mr. Malfoy hit him with a curse no one there had heard before. There was a moment of stunned silence as Mr. Malfoy smiled in victory. Where Charles Potter had stood was a small horse-like creature with blue hair and a purple mane in the Gryffindor's robe.

The judge's whispered among themselves. "What was that?"

"It had to be a transfiguration."

"It was no transfiguration."

"No curse can do that."

"Then you tell me what it was!"

A number of students laughed and applauded as Claudius Malfoy smiled and took a bow.

The blue equine suddenly fell over, in obvious distress of some sort and the Galens came running.

"The counter-charm," Professor Sauberkehren bellowed at Mr. Malfoy, "what is the counter-charm!"

Owl and three other Galens knelt by Charles Potter and wished Sir William were present as they tried to assess the Gryffindor's condition.

"It causes no permanent harm," Claudius insisted, "he'll be fine in twenty-four hours."

"Mr. Whisp, what's wrong?" Professor Thomas shouted to the Galens.

"I don't know… He's having trouble breathing… His broken nose…"

"The counter-charm," Professor Sauberkehren bellowed again, "you must know it!"

"There isn't a counter-charm! It doesn't hinder breathing!"

"Well he's having trouble breathing," Owl shouted. The blue equine arched his neck and fought for breath. "It's like a cribbing horse or something."

Mr. Strout, the surgeon, ran forward, knowing full well he had no idea what to do. Elizabeth, along with Professors Ogden and Sauberkehren left the judges' table to go to the fallen Gryffindor. Miss Gray knelt with the Galens and took Charles' hoof in her hand. The equine calmed slightly, but still arched its neck and struggled to breathe.

"What was the curse?" the head of Hufflepuff asked the Dark Arts professor.

"I don't know! I didn't hear it clearly… I've never seen anything like this. There must be some charm which can help."

"I can't just start applying random charms! I might make things worse."

Feeling helpless, the Dark Arts professor shouted at Mr. Malfoy again for the counter-charm.

"It doesn't harm the victim!" Mr. Malfoy insisted. "There's no problem with the curse!"

Elizabeth suddenly leaned forward and kissed the blue creature on the muzzle.

"What are you doing," Owl demanded.

"There are transfigurations that a kiss breaks."

"This isn't a transfiguration," he told her, "it's--" He turned to another Galen, "Get me the potions!"

The Hufflepuff grabbed the satchel and tossed it to the little Slytherin, who jerked it open and dumped the vials onto the platform then began to frantically search through them.

"Mandrake draught… There's got to be mandrake draught…" He suddenly grabbed a vial and uncorked it. "Open your mouth!" he shouted at the blue creature and poured the liquid down his throat.

Within seconds the muzzle began to shorten and the creature began to look less equine and more human. The hoof in Elizabeth's hand divided into two fingers and grew a thumb.

Owl breathed a sigh of relief. "Mandrake draught… Should fully restore him from the curse."

Everyone watched anxiously for the next few minutes until the changes seemed to end.

"I thought you said he would be fully restored," Elizabeth complained.

"It's supposed to," Owl insisted. "At least he can breathe."

Charles Potter's features had basically been restored. If one accepts that 'basically restored' could include still being covered with blue fur and his normal hair remaining purple. He took his hand from Elizabeth and held it in front of him face. He turned it over and looked at the back of his hand. "Very curious… I heard fully restored. But I distinctly remember having more fingers an hour ago."

Owl raised his hands in an, 'I don't know' gesture. "No one seems to understand what you were hit with. Mandrake draught should counter the effects of a curse."

"You'll be fine in twenty-four hours," Mr. Malfoy insisted.

Elizabeth and the Hufflepuff who had brought the potion satchel to Owl helped Mr. Potter to his feet. He needed help to steady him for a moment. "Don't think my feet are quite normal either," he muttered. "And I can't imagine that was good for my boots."

Charles began to walk toward the benches for those how had been eliminated from the competition, but Professor Thomas stood up at the judges' table. "Mr. Malfoy has been disqualified from the competition. He--"

"I won!" the Slytherin champion shouted.

"He failed to provide the appropriate counter-charm, as stipulated in the rules."

"The curse caused no harm. It's his own damn nose that nearly killed him!"

"You will sit down. Now!" Susan Thomas told him flatly - pointing to the benches and beckoning for Mr. Potter to move to the other side of the platform where Turk and Augie sat.

The time spent on Mr. Potter had given Mr. Bulstrode opportunity to recover. The duel with Robin had left the fourth year battered. Turk, another beater, could take a great deal of punishment and, having enjoyed a relatively easy second round, should have been able to defeat Augie. At least, on a normal day an unscathed Turk would have crushed a battered Augie with ease. Having faced his wife in the prior round Mr. Lennox was too distracted to concentrate on the duel. The slower Mr. Bulstrode managed two solid hits on the Senior before the older Slytherin even tried and Turk went down.

Augustus offered a hand to help his teammate from the floor. Turk smiled and patted the younger man on the shoulder, "Win it for Slytherin," he urged.

The Galens requested a slightly longer break between rounds as they tried to figure out how to bring Mr. Potter back to normal. With Professor Ogden they questioned Mr. Malfoy, but the Slytherin claimed the book where he found the odd curse offered no counter-charm and maintained the curse had not been the cause of the Gryffindor's distress and that he should have been declared the winner.

Professor Ogden returned to the judges' table and requested the final duel be postponed until the next evening. In a quick poll of the judges, however, the majority voted to move ahead with the final duel.

While the judges conferred Charles managed to pull his boots off. A Galen employed a mending spell to repair a seam which had been ruined when the Gryffindor's feet had transformed.

In the audience students quickly placed small personal wagers on the new reality of the final pairing. Miss Gray had purchased multiple shares on all the Slytherins, Mr. Potter, and Miss Stolz to win the competition and would profit if either of the two won. But neither the official betting pool nor even the outcome of the final duel concerned her. The only thought in her head was the safety and restoration of Mr. Potter.

After another longer than usual rest between rounds the two finalists came forward for their duel.

Mr. Bulstrode, battered from his duel with Mr. Fletcher, had regained a little confidence by this victory over Mr. Lennox. He felt capable of beating the Gryffindor champion and hoped for a quick win so he could return to his room and sleep for fourteen hours.

Mr. Potter held his wand in his modified hand with difficulty. He lacked the dexterity to hold his weapon firmly and a simple disarming spell by the Slytherin fourth year might be enough for Mr. Bulstrode's victory. At least Mr. Potter felt vaguely human, even if his appearance still lacked some elements of humanity. While he mentioned the fact to no one, and the visual evidence was concealed by his robe, Charles Potter realized that he shared his trousers with something large and hairy. He assumed that the anomaly represented a tail to match his changed appearance. He wasn't certain which possibility disturbed him more - the idea that he might have a tail, or sharing his trousers with a large, hairy thing which was _not_ a tail.

Professor Sauberkehren smiled as he looked at the pair and addressed the students watching the competition. "This will be a championship you will long remember," he promised them.

The cheers from the students were primarily for Mr. Bulstrode. While Gryffindor remained solidly behind their champion many students, including those who hated Mr. Bulstrode as a person, felt that Mr. Malfoy had been cheated of a win. Because she sat at the judges' table Elizabeth felt it inappropriate to cheer for either - to her relief. Professor Wood felt no such scruples and shouted encouragement to Mr. Potter.

On the cue from the Dark Arts professor the finalists bowed to each other, and at his command they began to duel.

Charles directed his first curse with care. Since Mr. Bulstrode did not possess the speed of Mr. Malfoy the Gryffindor had more time to aim and Charles better luck than with the disarming spell he attempted against the Slytherin champion. Only Elizabeth, and perhaps Weasel (if he were paying as much attention to the duel as he did to seeking Miss Fowler's attention) recognized the curse from the book of obscure curses and spells.

The curse hit Augusutus on the nose, and Mr. Bulstrode felt no pain - only a minor tickling sensation. The tickle quickly grew in intensity and Mr. Bulstrode began to sneeze, violently and uncontrollably.

Augie could not aim. A sneezing fit would double him over and leave him unable to direct a curse where he needed it to go. His first stunning spell took out the first row of students watching the competition - fourth and fifth year Ravenclaws who had pushed their way forward to watch the Raveclaw competitors and Miss Kestrel. The wizards were knocked from the bench as it overturned.

The stunning spell from Mr. Potter bruised Mr. Bulstrode, but the fourth year remained on his feet. Augie's second curse hit the wall. The large Slytherin suddenly doubled over with a sneezing fit as Mr. Potter tried a second stunning spell and Mr. Potter managed to knock Professor Wood off his chair. Elizabeth and Professor Thomas chose to leave their seats for the relative safety of the floor. Masculine pride and her position as Headmaster kept the other professors and Mrs. Pilton from joining them on the floor.

Several Hufflpuff students would require help from the Galens after a curse from Augustus left them weak in the legs. Mr. Potter's similar curse left Mr. Bulstrode shaky, but still standing. Augustus realized that, unable to aim well, his only hope was to fire as many curses as possible as quickly as possible and hope something connected with Mr. Potter. Nothing did, but students toward the back of the Great Hall began to flee for their houses. Mr. Potter required two more stunning spells before Mr. Bulstrode collapsed.

"Well, you promised the students a contest they would long remember," Professor Quirrell reminded the Dark Arts professor before Professor Sauberkehren stood to declare Charles the winner. "You were certainly correct."

There would be a party in Gryffindor that evening to celebrate their champion winning the dueling competition. Under other circumstances Charles might have asked Elizabeth to attend, but he did not feel like himself.

Mr. Malfoy could be heard as students began to leave the Great Hall, still complaining that he had been eliminated unfairly and that Mr. Potter would be fine in twenty-four hours. Elizabeth and all of Gryffindor sincerely hoped that would prove true. Vivien did her best to console Claudius, assuring him that he had been robbed of a well deserved victory. That would certainly be the way she would describe it in the letter she penned to his father.


	22. Game 6: Slytherin vs Ravenclaw

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Game 6: Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw**

To the great relief of Miss Gray and Mr. Fletcher an owl delivered a short note from Professor Saxifrage. The handwriting appeared more illegible than usual, as if the writer were too weak or palsied to hold a pen well. She apologized for the brevity of the letter, but expressed the hope they would understand the circumstances. She warned them they were too young to teach, thanked them for agreeing to take the classes, and assured them they would do an excellent job in the classroom. She closed with a demand for information on the second test with the singing nettles.

"She won't like hearing we've done nothing with them," Robin sighed. "I hope she doesn't suffer a relapse."

"More likely she will rise from her bed to come to the school and criticize us for our failure. We will restore her will to live."

"One of us should tell Mrs. Pilton we received this note."

"You do it. You know I can't abide the woman."

Another letter of importance arrived the same day. A smiling Vivien approached Elizabeth privately and waved the missive in the air. "We're invited to spend a month at Malfoy Hall this summer."

"I don't know that I--"

"You _must_ come. You know I could not go by myself; it would not be proper. Besides, what will you do this summer?"

"I don't know, but I don't see that I should make my plans based on your schemes."

"You won't come with me?" Vivien asked in disbelief.

"I didn't say that. I don't know what I'll do when term is over, but I don't want to make my plans based on…" Miss Gray sighed. "I make no promises. You are correct, I don't know what I'll be doing. But if some wonderful opportunity arises for me--"

"Like Mr. Potter remaining in England."

"_If_ some opportunity arises I wish to be free to pursue it. Couldn't you go with your mother? That would be more appropriate for what you have in mind."

"I hope to conceal my mother's occupation for as long as possible. Besides, the invitation was for the two of us."

"You can't conceal that forever."

"I don't want to conceal it forever, just until he realizes I am perfect for his son. Then it shouldn't matter."

On Thursday evening Miss Gray and Miss Fowler received a prediction for near perfect weather for the quidditch match. Sir William warned the afternoon would be warmer than ideal for a game, but the day appeared clear and sunny as far as he could see.

On Saturday morning Vivien worked to prepare the Sisters for the game, and Mr. Gutman and Prophet prepared plates of food in the dining hall to bring to Slytherin for breakfast. The team ate around the large table in the central alcove.

"Three-hundred and thirty," Miss Gray announced glumly. "That's what we need to win by in order to claim the quidditch cup."

"Against the"

"Team which,"

"Won twice," Poppy sighed.

"We can do it," Elizabeth assured them. "We're in better condition than Ravenclaw. If we can play a long enough game we will win… Owl, you must concentrate on the snitch today we--"

Jeremiah Abbot had suddenly stood up, an excited expression on his face, "We're going to win!"

"By how much?" Mr. Bulstrode demanded.

"I… I don't know. I don't see the score, I just know we are going to win."

The Sisters smiled, "We will take"

"That as a."

"Very good sign," Deborah finished.

"We might also find Prophet's second sight can err," Miss Gray warned them. "Don't take anything for granted. And remember that a win does not necessarily mean the quidditch cup."

Elizabeth nervously addressed her players. It was her last game at Hogwarts, final game as team captain, and last hope to win the house cup for Slytherin. She found herself repeating the things they already knew from dozens of practice sessions and cut her remarks short - to the relief of those who had heard the platitudes at dozens of practice sessions - with, "You are a fine team. It has been my pleasure to play with you. As I've watched all the games this year I've realized Gryffindor and Ravenclaw will both return good teams next year. I'm even more convinced, however, that Slytherin will return a better team. Next year you can bring the house cup back to Slitherin after we win it today."

The team members laughed and applauded as she finished, but she had broached a topic on the minds of several there.

"And who will," Deborah asked.

"Serve as next."

"Quidditch team captain?" Sarah finished.

"There will be a final team meeting next week. Turk and I will name the individual we think should lead the team. You will either accept our nominee or select your own captain."

Vivien finished the preparation on the sisters and the team stood to leave for the pitch. They left the plates on the table for house elves to return to the kitchen.

"Miss Gray," Augustus asked as Owl distributed the brooms, "we're playing against your brother today. Have you any special instructions?"

"No more than when we played against my cousins. Try to not kill anyone."

Elizabeth had timed their arrival closely. They reached the field two minutes before the scheduled start of the game.

Miss Fowler launched a loud protest as soon as she saw the Sisters. Three identical witches came to the field with the Slytherin team, each with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun. Gone was Miss Crouch's long blonde hair, Miss Cooper's shorter brown hair - gone as well, and not a trace of the distinctive curls in Miss Honig's black hair could be seen. "Slytherin is cheating! Performance enhancing charms are strictly forbidden!"

"How would appearance charms enhance performance?" Professor Turpin asked as Miss Gray and the Slytherins reached the center of the field. "Charms which make the game safer are allowed."

"Appearance charms do not promote safety. This is obviously an attempt to mask the identity of her chasers. Miss Gray fears we will notice the idiosyncrasies of her players and uses this low trick to disguise their weaknesses."

"I detest low tricks," Elizabeth stated firmly. "But call out Professor Ogden. No appearance charms have been used on my players." When Professor Turpin called the charms professor to the center of the pitch Miss Kestrel headed out also.

As the charms professor came out Miss Gray had time to look around the field. Robin had forgiven her enough to wear Slytherin colors, as had most of the Hufflepuff team for the support that Slytherin had shown them. Robin pointed to the scarf around his neck in a half-jesting, half-accusatory fashion to indicate she should have worn Hufflepuff colors at the previous game. Dark, of course, wore Ravenclaw's colors since he had always been closer to Weasel. He still returned Elizabeth's wave. Elizabeth looked to an area where most spectators wore Gryffindor scarves and found Charles Potter wearing a Slytherin scarf as well. She looked for Basil, and felt slightly disappointed to see he maintained neutrality by wearing his Gryffindor colors. Miss Gray felt some shock, however, to see her mother and father sitting by Basil. Her father's wild wave and booming, "Win for Slytherin" which echoed across the field made her very embarrassed and distinctly proud at the same time.

Elisabeth turned back as Professor Ogden pronounced his findings, "I can find no charms on these players."

"There must be!" Miss Fowler protested.

"I can find none."

"She did it," Rose accused, pointing to Miss Kestrel.

"I put no charms on these three," Vivien insisted. She held up her hands, her fingernails discolored and black. "Perhaps a bit of muggle magic, if I may apply the term to hair dye and rouge. Is there anything about that in the rules?" she asked Professor Turpin.

"None at all," the professor assured her. "Captains, are your teams ready?"

"But--" Miss Fowler objected.

"I asked, are your teams ready?"

"Slytherin is ready," Miss Gray assured her.

Augustus mounted his broom and turned to Miss Crouch, "Fasten me down." He had, in fact, turned to Miss Honig, but the confusion was easy to understand given the circumstances and she knew the spell also. He gritted his teeth and tried to show no expression as the sensation of being bitten in the buttocks fastened him to his broom.

"Ravenclaw is ready."

Before leaving the field with Professor Ogden, Vivien whispered to Elizabeth, "I don't believe my fingernails will ever be clean again. You had better win."

First whistle sent the players into the air. Professor Turpin released the bludgers and the beaters took control. A few minutes later she lofted the quaffle into the air and blew a second blast on her whistle.

Elizabeth smiled grimly as one of the Sisters… she could not be certain which one, scored. Miss Fowler's anger could only distract her and work to Slytherin's advantage. Another of Slytherin's Harpies scored and Mr. Andrew's voice could be heard shouting encouragement. Miss Fowler managed to keep the quaffle, but Elizabeth blocked the scoring attempt. And the third Harpy, or perhaps one of the two who had scored on the first two drives, scored again.

Mr. Wells flew protection for Miss Fowler on her second attempt to score and the Ravenclaw captain feinted Miss Gray out of position and scored.

Slytherin scored again. Mr. Wells gained the quaffle, but before he could pass the leather ball to Miss Fowler it was stolen from him by… Elizabeth suspected Miss Honig as the thief, and suspected it was Miss Cooper who received the quaffle and scored. The battle among chasers and keepers kept Miss Gray too focused on the quaffle to pay equal attention to the beaters or seekers. Mr. Diggory, the beater with the greatest offensive skills at Hogwarts, faced Mr. Lennox, who had not allowed the bludger he guarded to strike a Slytherin player in six years. Turk saw the protection of his teammates as the highest priority, and some students accused him of failing to be aggressive enough in his play. Gaius Diggory wanted to break Turk's defensive streak as much as the tall Scot desired to protect it and his teammates. Fortunately for Slytherin the defensive skills of Mr. Diggory were not as strong as his offensive skills and in the first half hour of play Turk twice managed to bat his bludger in the direction of Ravenclaw players, although neither attack posed a threat to the players' safety.

Mr. Bulstrode and Mr. Cairo would probably both inherit the mantle of Senior next year. Mr. Bulstrode possessed greater raw strength and ferocity, but Mr. Cairo had more skill and experience. The chasers, seekers, and even keepers learned to pay attention to the location of the pair. Either man, should an opening arise, could send a bludger at an opposing player. Owl and Poppy both had to take sudden evasive maneuvers to keep from being struck and Mr. Wells suffered a bruising blow to his left shoulder.

Mr. Wells flew at Elizabeth holding the quaffle, Miss Fowler slightly behind and lower. Miss Gray ignored JW, watching for the pass which would give the quaffle to Rose. And Mr. Wells scored. Several minutes later Mr. Wells scored again on a similar play. Miss Gray felt disgusted with herself, she regarded Mr. Wells as a poor chaser and it was the first time in years she had allowed a poor chaser to score against her on two consecutive drives at the goals.

After two hours of play Slytherin had a seventy point lead. Miss Fowler responded by playing like a mad woman, risking injury in her efforts to strip the quaffle from the Slytherin chasers. An hour and a half later, despite the fact she faced the best keeper at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw trailed by only thirty points.

A half hour later Slytherin's lead had returned to sixty and Rose showed evidence of being tired. If the seekers had trouble finding the snitch their superior conditioning would allow Slytherin to dominate the game.

'Wee Willie' Goyle moved into position near the Slytherin goal. As Rose flew at the goal the stooge blind-sided Miss Gray, allowing Ravenclaw to score. Boos and jeers rose from the spectators. Although legal the move had been condemned at Hogwarts for years as poor sportsmanship. Most team captains declared losing more honorable than using a stooge, although some of them would have employed the tactic if they believed it might bring them the cup.

Seething with rage, a Harpy flew poorly and Miss Pettigrew stopped the Slytherin attempt on goal. Miss Fowler made another attempt on the Slytherin goal, but an angry Elizabeth stopped the drive. Miss Gray felt certain it was Miss Cooper who scored the next goal. From the corner of her eye she watched Mr. Goyle position himself near the Slytherin hoops.

A horrific crash freed the goals as Miss Fowler flew at them. Professor Turpin whistled a timeout as Miss Gray and Mr. Goyle fell out of position. Blood covered Miss Gray's face, but she still had some control of her broom as she landed hard. Mr. Goyle had no control and maintained a grip only through reflex action. He crashed into the ground and rolled several times before coming to a stop.

Owl and Weasel landed to face each other. Turk and Mr. Cairo grabbed their bludgers, allowing Mr. Diggory and Mr. Bulstrode to land by their fallen teammates. Sir William and Mr. Strout came out to the field. Guessing Mr. Goyle suffered more serious injuries Sir William went to the Ravenclaw chaser leaving Elizabeth to the surgeon. "Mr. Whisp, continue to look in the eyes of Mr. Gray," Professor Turpin shouted at the Slytherin seeker as he craned his neck to see Elizabeth. The chasers also landed during the examination of the fallen.

Mr. Potter came running from the spectators toward Miss Gray. Mr. Bulstrode moved to block the Gryffindor captain. It is no easy feat to appear threatening with a broom fastened to your backside, but the fourth year managed.

"Out of my way, Troll," Charles ordered.

"Go back, Beaky," Augustus retorted. "Slytherin needs no help."

Mr. Strout, working on Elizabeth, did not look up, "What's going on, Mr. Bulstrode?"

"Charles Potter here," the Gryffindor captain called. "Is she all right?"

"Bloody nose for certain, I'm checking to see if it's broken."

"Mr. Bulstrode?" Elizabeth called.

"Yes?"

"Let him pass. Mr. Potter is my friend."

"Mr. Strout," Sir William called. "How is Miss Gray? Do you require assistance?"

"No serious injury, Sir. The nose is not broken. I'll apply a cobweb poultice to reduce swelling and keep her from having two black eyes though. I'll--"

"No!" Elizabeth objected. "I won't use it during a game."

"You need it," the surgeon insisted.

"After the game," Elizabeth countered. "It makes my eyes water and I need to see clearly to keep."

"So long as you don't end up like me," Charles said, touching a finger to his broken nose.

"The longer you delay the application of the poultice, the longer it will require before it takes effect," the surgeon warned.

Miss Gray remained adamant, and Mr. Strout and Charles helped her to her feet. Sir William continued to work on the fallen Mr. Goyle.

"Mr. Whisp, turn your eyes back on Mr. Gray," Professor Turpin called. "Your keeper is fine. Mr. Potter, why are you on the field?"

"I'm leaving," he shouted. He turned to Elizabeth and whispered, "Be careful."

"What odds are they giving?" she called as he began to leave the field.

"I heard Ravenclaws offering three-to-one."

"Put three galleons on Slytherin, I'll give you the money if we lose - and pay you three galleons for placing the wager if we win."

"Miss Gray, you are quite impossible," he called over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Sir William helped the Ravenclaw chaser to stand. Mr. Goyle took a couple unsteady steps, and went down again.

"We need a longer break for our chaser to recover," Miss Fowler requested.

"Nonsense," Professor Turpin told her, "it won't affect his play. The man is bloody useless on a broom." While stooging remained legal she would not extend any sympathy to a player or team using the tactic.

Miss Fowler inspected Mr. Goyle's broom and found it undamaged. Mr. Wells helped Ravenclaw's third chaser back on his broom.

As Ravenclaw prepared to return to the sky Miss Gray gingerly touched her nose. It hurt like the devil and she wished that cobweb poultices did not make her eyes water and tear so badly. "Mr. Bulstrode?"

"Yes."

"I wish to alter my earlier game plan. Slytherin no longer takes prisoners."

"Miss Gray… I never was."

Mr. Goyle assumed a role akin to rogue human bludger, flying erratically around the pitch with as little purpose or thought as the enchanted metal spheres. Fortunately for Slytherin he posed as much a threat to his own team as to the opposing players. Professor Turpin started to whistle a blatching foul against him, and then realized that she couldn't since it had been Mr. Wells, his own teammate, with whom 'Wee Willie' collided.

Mid-afternoon, and exhaustion slowed the Ravenclaw captain. Mr. Wells worked to increase his own role in the game and give her relief but, tired and frustrated, Miss Fowler seemed to resent his efforts and when his attempts at goal failed she shouted that he should have passed the quaffle to her.

Slytherin's advantage did not prove immediately overwhelming. At the other end of the pitch Miss Pettigrew had become more adept at identifying the individual Slytherin chasers as they flew at her and stopped a higher percentage of their drives than in the opening hours. Despite Miss Pettigrew's improved success, however, the point distance between the slowly teams grew.

Ravenclaw's beaters tried to become a factor in the game. Mr. Diggory re-doubled his efforts to bat a bludger at Slytherin chasers. Turk dropped all efforts at offensive play as he worked to defend his teammates. He would not let one be struck by the bludger he guarded in his last game. Mr. Cairo had slightly better luck against Mr. Bulstrode, and Miss Cooper had the bruises to prove it, but the Ravenclaw Junior, like his captain, was tiring as he faced the physically stronger Slytherin Junior.

In addition to Turk's defensive ability at beater Slytherin stood to mark another accomplishment in the game. Miss Gray stopped a drive by Miss Fowler and Mr. Philpott and a couple other Slytherins shouted, "Nine-hundred and ninety-five!" A few minutes later, after blocking a drive by Mr. Wells, more Slytherins joined in shouting, "Nine-hundred and ninety-six!" By nine-hundred and ninety-eight most of Hufflepuff had joined with all of Slytherin in the shout, and even some Ravenclaw students joined the cheers and applause when Elizabeth managed her one-thousandth save as Slytherin keeper.

Elizabeth did not let the cheers go to her head. Three excruciatingly long games accounted for fully half the saves and she regarded the accidents of fate more important to her accomplishment than her own ability. Miss Gray held the previous Gryffindor keeper to have been her equal or superior, but the Gryffindor seeker had caught the snitch so quickly that the keeper had never reached five hundred saves.

Miss Fowler managed to answer some of the Harpies' goals by scoring herself, but although Miss Pettigrew had grown more adept at stopping the Harpies the Ravenclaw keeper grew tired also. Slytherin's lead stood at a hundred and thirty points, then a hundred and forty, Mr. Wells managed a brilliant steal and Ravenclaw knocked ten points off the lead.

Slytherin led by one-hundred and sixty. Miss Gray stopped another drive by Miss Fowler and Miss Crouch took possession of the quaffle. Poppy passed the leather ball to Sarah as Mr. Wells tried to steal it away, then Sarah passed it back to Poppy for a drive at the goal.

Weasel suddenly went into a dive. Even the beaters risked a glance. The snitch was clearly visible and Owl dove towards it also, but Weasel was closer and the Slytherin seeker had no hope of beating him. Or rather, if it were merely two seekers going for the snitch Owl had no hope. Turk took advantage of Mr. Diggory's distraction and hit the bludger hard and at random then dropped quickly into the flight path of the Ravenclaw keeper. Edward William, slight of build, dared not collide with the large Scot and took evasive action.

Mr. Bulstrode also took advantage of the momentary confusion in the game. He guessed the direction Weasel would take and smashed the metal sphere towards the spot he thought Elizabeth's brother would fly. He stared at the opposing seeker and the metal sphere, hoping against hope…

The two dull thuds of metal against flesh sounded almost simultaneously. The first was the sound of Mr. Bulstrode's bludger hitting Weasel square in the back. The second was the bludger that had been batted away by Mr. Lennox striking Mr. Bulstrode in the back of the skull.

Weasel, knocked forward by the force of the blow, grabbed the broom and lost control. He went into a tumble. With the broom going end over end he headed for a crash. Mr. Bulstrode, rendered unconscious by the blow to his skull, only stayed on his broom because of the safety charm which held him in place. He rolled, and now beneath the broom it went into a dive towards the ground, although not at as steep an angle as the Ravenclaw seeker.

Owl caught the snitch.

Everyone watching the game stood. Normally those supporting the team which had caught the snitch would cheer its capture, but silence reigned as everyone watched in horror as the two players crashed into the ground.

Weasel hit first, and hard. Those sitting closest claimed they heard the sound of breaking bone as the Ravenclaw seeker hit - his leg bent at a grotesque angle. His father and the school surgeon were both running towards him as Weasel groaned in pain.

The blast of Professor Turpin's whistle, ending the game, sounded as Augie hit the ground. His broom came in at a less dangerous angle and speed, but the damage everyone feared was from the bludger hitting his head while in the air.

Sick with worry Turk grabbed one of the bludgers to wrestle it to the ground. Mr. Cairo grabbed the other. Both teams were too worried about their injured players to observe the formalities at the end of the game. The Harpies reached the fallen Mr. Bulstrode before Sir William, and Miss Cooper dispelled the safety charm so the broom could be removed. Miss Crouch cradled the fallen beater's head on her lap, not worrying about the blood which stained her robe.

Weasel never lost consciousness. However, after the initial shock of the broken leg his concern was for, "My broom! Is my broom damaged?"

"Lie still!" the surgeon ordered, "You'll only make your leg worse."

"I need my broom. Someone--"

His father knelt by his side, "Don't worry about the broom. If it's broken I'll buy you another."

Weasel, never close to his father, didn't know what to say. Mr. Gray took his son's hand.

"You're an excellent seeker," his father told him.

Edward William gripped his father's hand tightly. "Thanks."

"But you need to work on your landings," Mr. Strout told him. "Fortunately the leg appears to be the only problem. Prepare for some pain, I must straighten it into the proper position before I apply the knitting charm. It will hurt."

Edward William's hand gripped his father's more tightly as the surgeon worked on the leg, but managed not to cry out.

"Your leg should be able to bear weight in a few minutes," Mr. Strout informed him, "but I want you to spend the night in the infirmary in case I've missed something."

"But I'll miss the party in--" Weasel tried to protest.

"You will spend the night in the infirmary," Mr. Gray repeated. "Better to be safe."

Turk wrestled his bludger to the ground so that it could be stored, then headed to the small group around the fallen Augustus. He stood by Owl, feeling wretched as Sir William checked the pulse on Mr. Bulstrode.

"How is he?" Miss Honig asked.

"His pulse is strong," the head of Slytherin murmured. He placed his hand on the beater's forehead and gently opened one of the fourth year's eyes with his thumb to see if his eyes dilated at the light. "Ummm… Interesting…" Sir William looked up. "Mr. Whisp, please hand me my bag."

"How is he?" Miss Honig repeated.

"Conscious… My guess is that he enjoys resting his head on Miss Crouch's lap."

"What!" Poppy exclaimed and moved slightly.

Her movement brought a grimace of pain and a moan from Mr. Bulstrode.

"He is in pain," Sir William assured them. Miss Crouch ceased moving. "He suffers from a scalp laceration and I'm certain his headache will last for two or three days, but he will be fine."

With the assurance that Mr. Bulstrode suffered no permanent harm Miss Cooper dared voice an opinion, "His head is solid bone… You ought to check the bludger to see if he dented it."

Mr. Bulstrode did not feel like laughing, but the others laughed - more in relief over his safety than for the words of the chaser.

Owl handed over the medical bag and Turk knelt to help Augustus sit up so that Sir William could bandage his head. "You had to ruin it for me," the Scot smiled, "I almost finished without allowing a teammate to be hit."

Mr. Bulstrode was in too much pain to appreciate the relief the others felt. But with Turk's assistance he managed to get onto his feet.

Augustus standing and Mr. Strout able to leave Weasel's side sent a signal to those watching the game that they could move onto the field. It also reminded Miss Fowler of etiquette's demands and she congratulated Miss Gray.

The smile on the Ravenclaw captain brought the game back to Elizabeth.

"Our last drive?"

"Failed."

Slytherin had beaten Ravenclaw by three hundred and ten points. But while a large margin of victory it meant that although Slytherin won the game, they lost the cup. Ravenclaw held the title.

Slytherin supporters crowded around Elizabeth slightly confused, uncertain whether to congratulate her for the win - or console her for having come so close and fallen short. In addition Mr. Strout and Owl were both insisting she finally apply the cobweb poultice to alleviate the bruising of her nose and eyes.

Exhausted from the game, with her face in pain, emotionally drained from worry over her injured player and having just lost the school championship by a narrow margin the only thing which could possibly make Elizabeth feel any worse would be the sight of her mother approaching with Charles Potter in tow. Her mother did not disappoint her.

"Lizzy, your father and I have heard any number of curious rumors about you and Mr. Potter. We will not return until we have the facts in the matter."

* * *

Outside the ruined chapel Mr. Potter finished his narrative, "… price I demanded for playing the role of her love interest."

Mr. and Mrs. Gray looked at each other and shook their heads. "I still don't see why you simply weren't honest with us, Lizzy," her mother said in an accusing tone.

"I didn't want to disappoint either of you. And I appreciate the fact you both wanted me to be happy. But I want my husband to be a man I choose for myself. I want to be as happy as the two of you. You married for love. When the time comes I want the same freedom you had."

"We're not monsters, Lizzy," her father chided. "The choice will certainly be yours. I would not force you to marry against your inclination. I simply introduced you to a nice young man and hoped--"

"And was there something wrong with John Gardiner?" Mrs. Gray demanded of her husband.

"Other than his being a muggle?"

"And what is the problem with that?"

"Mother? Father? This was the reason I decided I would rather make my own choice."

"Sorry," her father apologized. "The decision is yours. You will meet the wizard of your dreams some day and--"

"Your father and I will support your choice of partners regardless of who you wish to wed," her mother interrupted.

"Not some damn muggle," her father muttered.

"_Regardless,_" her mother assured her. She turned to her husband, "We need to leave, it was a long game and we are expected home."

"Very well," Mr. Gray sighed, and silently mouthed, "No muggles," to his daughter. "I wish to speak to Lizzy for a moment," he told his wife and Mr. Potter. "Oh, Mr. Potter congratulations on the dueling championship. I would rather the title had gone to a Slytherin… At least until Basil is old enough to duel. I'll hope for a Gryffindor to win then."

"He will probably do very well," Charles assured him.

Mrs. Gray took Mr. Potter's arm, "Tell me how Basil is doing while they talk," and led him away to give her husband and daughter a moment of privacy.

Mr. Gray lost his smile and he shook his head sadly, "I fear it is coming to a head, Elizabeth. The Governors meet next weekend… I don't know what will happen. Cruikshank has been plotting. I don't know if he is Wilson's tool or has an agenda of his own. I can no longer trust Black and Bookbinder, I don't know how they'll vote… I don't know what to do, and I fear for Hogwarts. Anything you can find which could help me, please, I need support. I can't let Wilson win."

"I'll do my best," Miss Gray promised.

"You always have… Thank you." Her father kissed her on the forehead, then the two strolled over to Mrs. Gray and Mr. Potter. Charles exchanged the arm of the mother for the daughter's arm and he and Elizabeth returned to the school as Miss Gray's parents returned home.

"Will Slytherin hold a party for your win tonight?" Charles asked as they neared a side entrance to the school.

"Certainly."

"I was curious… Does the ban on women asking men to dance extend to other aspects of life. Could a woman ask a man to a party, or would that be forbidden also?"

"Are you suggesting I ask you to the party?"

"Heavens no. That would be too much like inviting myself. I simply seek to understand the etiquette involved more clearly."

"You didn't invite me to the party at Gryffindor after you won the dueling championship."

"I was covered with blue fur."

"But you could speak."

"I was covered with blue fur! I had a tail!"

"What?"

"I had a tail."

"You could still speak."

"Miss Gray, while I've never read a book on etiquette I feel reasonably confident that the normal rules are suspended when one has a tail."

"Perhaps… Can you furnish any witnesses to your claim to having a tail?"

Charles slapped his hand against his forehead, then slowly stroked it down over his face, "Miss Gray, sometimes I think I liked you better when I didn't like you at all."

"I'm sorry, it's just…" She pointed to her face, a thick coat of sticky cobweb poultice smeared around her eyes, "At least you could hide your problem in a robe. I just want to hide myself in a wardrobe."

"Ignoring the poultice for a minute--"

"That is rather difficult."

"I ignored a tail, remember?"

"No you didn't. You used it as your excuse not to invite me to your celebration."

"All right then, ignore both the poultice and my tail. I--"

"What kind of tail was it?"

"How does that matter?"

"Well, I can ignore the tail more effectively if I know precisely what sort of tail I'm ignoring."

"You do this simply to drive me insane, don't you?"

She smiled, "Do you want to know what I could do with that statement?"

"No, I want to ask a question and receive an answer. I want to know if--"

"Mr Potter? Before you ask your question, I need to know if you'd like to come to Slytherin's party tonight?"

"Yes! Now… Where was I?"

"You were about to ask a question and demanded an answer from me."

"Yes, I… Never mind."

Elizabeth laughed, "I shouldn't tease you so, but I'm happy."

"And this is how you treat me when you are happy?"

"You would rather I be sad?"

"No, I… So, what are you happy about? I am sorry you lost the cup."

"We won a good game. My parents were very understanding… I fear this will sound very odd, but I believe being with you makes me happy."

"And that happiness manifests itself by teasing me?"

"So it would seem."

"That seems terribly unfair. I give you pleasure and you give me pain."

"Life is unfair. We won the game, but lost the cup. In the last minute of his last game as beater Turk's bludger struck a Slytherin." Elizabeth turned serious, "Does my teasing bother you very much? I can try to stop."

"I was teasing you. I--" They had entered the school and encountered Mr. Dorkins and Mr. Baddock who came over to congratulate Elizabeth for the victory. "What time tonight?" Charles asked before turning into the corridor towards Gryffindor.

"Seven-thirty."

It would be remembered in Slytherin legend as the Night of the Hedgehog Massacre. Through the years and retellings it would evolve into the night when all the students in Slytherin house had been transformed into hedgehogs, with a huge cat devouring fully half of the students before they could be restored to human form. Students began to disbelieve the account long before that point, and well they should have. But each of the four houses had its own legends, and some, like the Hedgehog Massacre, were indeed distorted growths of real events.

The size of the victory insured a lively party at Slytherin. The long table from the Sisters far right alcove had been dragged into the main room, along with one from the middle alcove and covered with linens and plates of food for the party. Life remained normal around the card tables in the far left alcove, although players sometimes emerged between hands to grab pastries before retreating to the pleasures of whist.

Mr. Bulstrode occupied a seat of honor by the fireplace. The Bloody Baron had been impressed enough with his dueling prowess to allow him the honor of sitting on the _Siege Perilous_. It was an honor seldom granted fourth years and Augustus recognized the distinction. But at the moment he moved his head as little as possible and planned to retire early.

Efforts to remove the hair dye from Miss Crouch and Miss Cooper fared poorly. At the moment Poppy's hair was a bright green with Sarah's a dark purplish color. The two flanked the red-haired Mr. Andrews of Hufflepuff. With Miss Honig the cream of the third years discussed exams as others partied.

Much of the Hufflepuff team was there, and had been given permission by Professor Ogden to remain past curfew. Turk stood in a distant corner with his arm around Brigid. Before retiring to the whist tables Mr. Philpott started a betting pool on how long until the two married. When Peter asked Miss Gray if she wished to wager a sickle on the question she declined.

One Ravenclaw skipped the celebration over winning the cup in her own house to attend the Slytherin party. Miss Flitwick kept a hand possessively on Owl's arm as he chatted with Erin O'Shaughnessy. When Miss Gray looked over at one point of the evening even the second year Claudia Stolz stood with the group, engaged in conversation with Erin O'Shaughnessy and Owl as Miss Flitwick stood as silent and jealous witness.

Not that Miss Gray had time to look around. Despite the poultice still on her face Charles stood very close to her in the middle alcove (which currently seemed larger with one of the tables having been removed). She wondered if he felt slightly jealous of Robin, who stood on her other side or merely stayed close to not lose any conversation in the noisy Common Room.

Vivien joined the retiring quidditch captains. She would rather have been with Claudius Malfoy, but the man she hoped to wed had Mr. Philpott as his partner in the game and did not require Vivien's presence. The blonde witch had less interest in quidditch and participated but little in the conversation. She would not have minded if they turned the conversation from quidditch to a conversation more agreeable to her, such as Robin and Charles telling her how beautiful she looked that evening.

Elizabeth avoided any feeling of guilt by remembering how many times over the years young men had ignored her to talk with Miss Kestrel. And Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Potter weren't ignoring Vivien, she simply had little to add as the others discussed what they believed would happen on the quidditch pitch next year.

"Oh, before I forget," Charles interrupted Robin, and produced a small leather pouch and handed it to Elizabeth, "your winnings. A little bulky, I fear - all in sickles."

"How much is in there?" Vivien asked

"Nine galleons."

"I told you to keep three for yourself for placing the bet," Elizabeth reminded him.

"It was no effort for me. I can't accept so much."

"You should have asked me to place the wager," Vivien complained.

"Now I owe you six," Miss Gray grumbled at Mr. Potter.

"Six galleons? I've never had three galleons of my own at one time in my life," Miss Kestrel exclaimed. "What is this all about? You just said three, now you say six."

"The other three are for a wager last winter," Elizabeth explained to her friend. "And not having them didn't stop you from betting. It happens that Mr. Potter brings me luck and I try to reward him for helping me win."

"Which I can't accept under the circumstances," objected Charles.

_"And I must insist,"_ Elizabeth thought, but merely smiled at Mr. Potter and said nothing. Mr. Potter did not mistake the smile for Elizabeth agreeing with him. He returned the smile, and she knew that he had accepted the challenge.

Miss Gray turned back to her friend, "Viv?"

"Yes?"

"For the work you did on the Sisters today, I erase your debt."

"What? All of it?"

"All of it."

Miss Kestrel laughed with joy and gave Elizabeth a quick embrace and kiss on the cheek. "Thank you!"

Miss Gray turned to Mr. Potter. "Some people know how to accept good fortune."

"I fail to see the parallel between forgiving a debt on the one hand and trying to force unearned money on another person."

"You are focused too much on the details of the story and miss the larger condition of…" Elizabeth turned again to Miss Kestrel, "Viv, I will impose one condition."

"What is it?" the blonde witch asked with some suspicion.

"Promise me you won't bet my money without asking me again."

"I swear… I only bet when I was certain of winning!"

"Can I remind you that you usually lost the wagers?"

"In the later wagers I tried to earn the money to pay you back."

Slightly before ten Miss Flitwick returned to Ravenclaw. She feared leaving Owl with Erin O'Shaughnessy and Claudia Stolz. Fortunately for Miss Flitwick's peace of mind many of the Slytherin wizards had circled the Hufflepuff seeker and cut her off from the short wizard. And the Ravenclaw witch saw the young Claudia Stolz as no threat to her position with the Slytherin seeker.

The colorful group of Sisters and Mr. Andrews were now discussing the questions they expected on the history exam. Mr. Bulstrode having received multiple congratulations on his play from everyone in the room, and eaten his fill of sweets, contemplated returning to his room and the comfort of his bed. In one corner Turk stood with his arms around his wife as the two whispered quietly to each other.

In the large alcove the conversation had left quidditch, but now revolved around efforts to discover Mr. Fletcher's feelings towards Miss Lovegood. Mr. Potter started the line of questions. Robin suspected the Gryffindor captain would report any word he said to the Gryffindor witch and tried to avoid clear answers. His obvious embarrassment on the subject piqued his cousin's interest and she began to tease him about the woman. The topic still left Vivien in the unfamiliar territory of not being the center of male attention and she added but little to the conversation. Miss Gray faced away from the main room and the doorway to Slytherin as she asked her cousin if he would invite Miss Lovegood to the last waltz night at Hufflepuff. She heard some sort of commotion behind her, but paid no attention. Younger wizards often quarreled over unimportant matters. At least it did not originate in the group around the Hufflepuff seeker.

She heard some sort of cry of "There'll be none of that! Hogwarts will not tolerate such behavior!" It was Sir William's voice. Before Elizabeth could turn to see what was happening Charles Potter disappeared. She turned towards where he had been, and Vivien's hands grasped the robes of Miss Gray and Mr. Fletcher and she pulled them both do the floor with her, where they were shielded from view by the remaining table. As she squatted on the floor Elizabeth found a bewildered looking hedgehog in the spot where Mr. Potter had been standing.

Elizabeth grabbed the hedgehog to make certain no one stepped on it, then cowered behind the table with Vivien and Robin. There were several minutes of Sir William screaming for students to behave properly, which seemed like hours to the trio. At first there were shouts from students, but soon the Common Room fell deathly silent.

Elizabeth could stand it no longer, "Sir William, what are you doing?" she shouted

There was a moment of silence, "Miss Gray?"

"Hold Mr. Potter," Elizabeth whispered to Robin and prepared to stand.

"Don't stand up!" Vivien hissed.

Elizabeth rose to confront the head of Slytherin, "What are you doing?"

Sir William's nose was red and his eyes bloodshot. He stared at her as if he could not believe his eyes. "What are you doing here? You told me… I sent you…"

"I've been here for the last three hours."

"But you…"

"It's the party for our victory over Ravenclaw in quidditch."

"Then who… Why did…" He stood confused for another moment then exploded, "Bloody Hell!" turned and stalked from the room on unsteady legs.

"He's gone," Elizabeth announced.

A few, depressingly few, heads peered out from behind articles of furniture. Students who had retired early came to the doors of the men's and women's wings and looked into the Common Room. Confused looking hedgehogs were all about the room, an especially corpulent one sitting on the _Siege Perilous_.

Robin and Vivien stood, "What happened?" Mr. Fletcher asked.

"Sir William does the fastest hedgehog transfiguration at Hogwarts, he uses it to punish misbehavior."

"But why?" her cousin asked. "What happened just now?"

"I'm guessing the boggle told him of something happening here," Vivien answered. "And I suspect the boggle took the form of Lizzy again."

Elizabeth took charge, she called for students to capture the hedgehogs and try to sort out who was who.

"How do you break the--" Robin tried to ask.

"Not now!" Elizabeth barked.

"You sleep it off," Vivien quickly whispered.

"Mr. Black," Elizabeth called to the first year who had fortunately turned in early, "a list of all carnivorous pets, now!"

He immediately reeled off, "Three cats, a fox, two snakes large enough to eat a hedgehog, an ermine, a stoat, and a large toad."

"I think we can forget the toad, I--"

"It's a really large toad."

"How large can a toad be?" Elizabeth snapped in exasperation.

"He feeds it mice."

"Get the toad too." She noticed Claudia Stolz holding two hedgehogs, "Hand those to someone and help gather the carnivores. Oh, who do you have?"

"Mr. Whisp and Erin O'Shaughnessy."

"Give Erin to Mr. Fletcher. Bring the pets out to Miss Kestrel - she'll put a sleep charm on them so they can't devour anyone."

"We need help," Mr. Black protested, "We should eliminate the threat of Satan first."

Miss Gray almost protested it didn't take three students to capture one cat, then reflected on Satan's prowess and sent Mr. Ollerton with them. Fortunately casualties were low in the capture of the over-size cat and although young Phineas Black retired from the combat to nurse his wounds the other two continued to bring animals out for Vivien to charm.

As hedgehogs were identified Vivien charmed them also and they were taken to their rooms and placed in bed. Only Miss Crouch remained human among the top students of third year. She turned the prickly Mr. Andrews over to Mr. Fletcher.

Mr. Fletcher also had responsibility for the O'Shaughnessy sisters and his brother, all of whom had been transfigured. He returned Mr. Potter to Elizabeth.

"What will happen to Sir William?" Vivien wondered as she tried to sort out which hedgehog might be which whist player.

"I don't know," Elizabeth responded, still trying to restore order. "Right now I just want to insure no one gets eaten."

With the pets safely sleeping and the majority of the hedgehogs tucked into their beds several young wizards were gleefully feeding mealworms kept for someone's pet to the large hedgehog that was Mr. Bulstrode.

Another fourth year, Mr. Glasschöpfer, kept encouraging the others - but did nothing himself.

"You know," Miss Crouch remarked dryly to the students feeding mealworms to the large hedgehog, "Mr. Glasschöpfer plans to tell the Troll you did this when he's back to normal."

"What!"

"Notice how careful he is to not do anything himself."

Two wizards grabbed the German and forced him to serve as a participant and not a mere spectator.

After the surviving students finished their tasks Mr. Fletcher returned to Hufflepuff with the appropriate hedgehogs, while Elizabeth delivered Mr. Potter to Gryffindor. It too her a few minutes to explain why their dueling champion and quidditch captain currently took the form of a hedgehog.

Even before the party Miss Gray had anticipated Mr. Potter's recalcitrance and prepared a pouch with six galleons. She handed it to the roommate who accepted the hedgehog. "Oh, he bet on Slytherin today and won. He will ask for this as soon as he recovers - be certain you give it to him, or place it with his things."

Mrs. Pilton was in the Common Room at Slytherin questioning students when Elizabeth returned. "Miss Gray," the headmaster of Hogwarts nodded, "they tell you did an excellent job. I would like a word with you." She turned to those still in the Common Room. "I wish it to be private. You can return to your rooms. The party is most assuredly over."

When the two were alone Mrs. Pilton sighed, "The boggle?"

"That is our best guess."

"Sir William resigned tonight."

"What!"

"I didn't accept it. Not when he was… Not in his present condition."

"Anyone can be deceived by the boggle."

"His problems go far beyond being deceived by the boggle. You know that."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know… He usually feels miserable at the end of the year. In all the time he has been here he reports only five students with any gift… His must be the most discouraging class for any teacher. A student comes in to herbology or potions and they can learn the subject. Sir William feels, on those rare occasions he has a student with the gift, that he can teach her nothing. And every year he has students eager to learn how to peer into the future - but they have no gift and simply imagine what they want to happen and pray it will occur."

"We have a first year with second sight!"

"Who?"

"Jeremiah Abbot."

"What has he done?"

"He sometimes sees who will win a game, and says that sometimes he sees who will become sick."

"That's more than the last witch who showed any sort of gift…" Mrs. Pilton sighed. "I hope it will encourage him… I also very much hope tonight encourages him to stop drinking. I will urge him to spend a week in the infirmary for his health, and offer to administer his exams for him."

"My father says Sir William did much for England."

"Your father--" Mrs. Pilton snapped angrily. She closed her mouth tightly for a second, then resumed speaking in a calmer voice. "I am not here to discuss that. I will compliment you for the job you did this evening. The other students report you did a fine job of taking charge, calming everyone down, and insuring everyone remained safe. Thank you."

In addition to the story of the Hedgehog massacre itself, which was known to every student in the school by the end of breakfast the next morning, was the story of how Miss O'Shaughnessy had awakened in the morning in the bed of Mr. Lennox of Slytherin, while the Slytherin beater had awakened in the room of the seventh year Hufflepuff witches. Mr. Bulstrode awoke with the complaint of a curious taste in his mouth but no one sought to clarify the source for him.


	23. Final Banquet

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**Final Banquet**

Miss Gray loitered over breakfast on Sunday until she heard from a Gryffindor that Mr. Potter was himself. She went to the ruined chapel after breakfast for prayer and meditation before starting her studies. Bishop and some Catholics found her sitting outside as they left their session with the Fat Friar and the Hufflepuff chaser let the others return to Hogwarts as he questioned Elizabeth about the peculiar story Robin told.

"Should I ever be invited to a party at Slytherin, I believe I'll decline the offer," Bishop laughed when Miss Gray confirmed her cousin's account.

Elizabeth ate a small and early lunch with the Weird Sisters.

"I need to review for potions, then Robin and I will be in the herbology classroom for two hours to help any students with questions, and I study with Miss Kestrel tonight. Will you three stop by herbology for a review?"

"Probably not," Miss Honig replied.

"Studying in Hufflepuff."

"With Mr. Andrews," Miss Cooper finished.

"You're going there? He's become a feature there in Slytherin with you."

"Too much noise."

"In our house."

"To study properly."

Charles and Elizabeth were supposed to look over their charms notes with each other on Monday afternoon at the lake, but a sudden storm drove them inside. She asked the house elves for two cups of tea and then she and Mr. Potter sat in a greenhouse and watched rain pelt against the glass panes.

After an hour he had the presence of mind to point out, "If I studied enough with you I might fail all my exams."

"Pardon?"

"Have we studied for the exam at all?"

"We must have done… No. I suppose not. I wonder how the Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch manage when Mr. Andrews studies with them."

"I suspect they are all terribly dull and actually study when they are supposed to be studying."

"What a quaint idea."

"Yes, and I fear I will be up late studying charms now. What are your plans for the evening?"

"Last quidditch team meeting. Next year's captain."

"We had ours two weeks ago. Alfie Longbottom."

The storm cleared as quickly as it blew in and before the team meeting Elizabeth proposed a final run to Hogsmeade and back. The Sisters protested the mud and time lost for studies, but Elizabeth pointed out they needed a break from hours spent at their books. Owl suggested a compromise of a run around the school.

After returning to Slytherin the team ejected young Mr. Black from the far alcove and took it over for their meeting. Miss Gray sat at the end with her back to the Common Room. The Sisters sat on her left, crowded slightly toward her to avoid Mr. Bulstrode as much as possible. He sat on the far end of the table. Turk sat on Elizabeth's right, then Mr. Gutman and Mr. Abbot. Finally the Owl sat virtually at the far right corner of the table, by his friend Augustus.

Mr. Lennox nodded and smiled at Elizabeth, and she began by thanking them for their hard work and predicting success in the coming year.

The Sisters fidgeted slightly, wishing she would nominate the next captain and each hoping to be named.

Elizabeth had discussed her opinion with Turk, who agreed with her view on the one option for keeping the team together. "And I nominate Owl for your next captain. There is no one at Hogwarts with a better grasp of the game."

Although everyone there wished to have heard his/her name mentioned Owl seemed the logical choice and it came as no surprise. Applause followed her announcement.

The short wizard stood and bowed to Miss Gray. "I thank you for presenting my name, but I will not be playing for the team next year."

"What?" many voices asked.

"Seeking is a great honor, but examine the facts. Honesty compels me to admit that I've performed poorly at the position."

"You've gotten better!" Miss Gray assured him.

"You caught."

"The snitch."

"Last game," the Sisters reminded him.

"We need a Seeker," Mr. Gutman pointed out.

"I've been working with a second year, Claudia Stolz," Owl told them. "She watched Mr. Jones and wanted to try seeking. After several weeks of drills I'm convinced she will make a better Seeker than I've been."

Miss Gray would not let the little wizard dash her hopes, "Although unusual there have been non-playing captains. I still believe you are the best candidate for the position."

Still standing, Mr. Whisp bowed again. "I'm honored. And I will offer to help the next captain in any way I am able. I've received another honor, which I fear may limit my time…" The little wizard jumped on the table and raised his arms in triumph, "I've been elected Aesclepian for the Galens!" he shouted.

His teammates applauded as he bowed to Miss Gray and both sides of the table. Mr. Bulstrode rose and let Mr. Whisp jump down at the end of the table. The huge fourth year uncharacteristically threw his arms around his small friend and said, "Congratulations," as Owl completely disappeared from view behind Augie's robe.

Suddenly Mr. Bulstrode looked up, a startled expression on his face. He extended his arms and turned toward the others at the table, Owl was gone.

There were a few seconds of stunned silence before bedlam erupted with everyone talking at once.

"He disapparated--"

"You can't apparate in--"

"Flameless floo powder?"

"No such thing!"

"Invisibility cloak?"

"No room to put it on!"

"He didn't own one!"

"Are there any invisibility charms?"

"No!"

"How about invisibility potion?"

"Doesn't exist either."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I--"

"Port key?"

"I still say he disapparated!"

"You can't aparate in the school! Was he an animagnus of some sort?"

"The troll ate him," Miss Cooper suggested dryly.

The team members offered the same suggestions again, and dismissed them again. Finally Mr. Bulstrode could stand with the shocked expression on his face no longer and doubled over with laughter.

"He's lost his mind," Miss Honig muttered.

"He didn't have one," Miss Cooper retorted.

The sound of more laughter sounded, from beneath the end of the table. "Or perhaps I dropped to the floor as he put his arms around me, crawled between his legs and hid under the end of the table," Owl explained as he emerged from hiding.

Elizabeth and Turk did not join the laughter with the rest of the team. They looked at each other, feeling slightly ill. They had discussed all the players in terms of serving as captain. The Sisters were too competitive among themselves to tolerate one being given the honor. Mr. Abbot and Mr. Gutman were too young and inexperienced. And Augustus would certainly destroy the team.

Elizabeth had no idea how to proceed, but Owl spoke after returning to his chair. "If I might make a suggestion, I would like to nominate my friend, Mr. Augustus Bulstrode, for the position of team captain."

_"He's lost his mind,"_ Elizabeth thought, wondering what to do. Before she could find words to say without insulting Mr. Whisp's ancestors for the previous five generations the short Whisp elbowed his huge friend and hissed, "Say something."

Mr. Bulstrode turned to Miss Crouch, the only one of the Sisters he normally addressed, and spoke, "I will only allow my name to be considered if I believe Slytherin can have a winning season. And our best hope of winning is a promise that you and your friends, the best damn team of chasers at Hogwarts, will all agree to play for the house next year."

The Sisters put their heads together and whispered quickly among themselves. The three looked skeptical as they turned to him, and Poppy spoke, "The _only_ way you will serve as captain is if we _all_ play next year?"

He nodded, "That is what I said."

The Sisters engaged in more hurried whispers before Miss Cooper spoke to Miss Gray, "We don't like the troll."

"But he wants to win," Miss Honig continued.

"And so do we," Miss Crouch finished.

"We can."

"Accept him."

"As captain."

Elizabeth didn't trust Mr. Bulstrode to keep his promise, but reflected he wanted Slytherin to win and the Sisters were good. She sighed and turned to Mr. Gutman and Mr. Abbot, "Have you any nominee?"

Mr. Abbot shook his head 'no' to the question and Mr. Gutman gave an optimistic, "I think Mr. Bulstrode will do a fine job."

"Mr. Bulstrode, I opened this meeting as team captain. I am team captain no longer; the honor is yours. Do you have any words for your team before you officially close your first meeting?"

"I wish to thank my team members for the honor of selecting me. I promise to do my best to bring the Quidditch Cup to Slytherin. I ask you all to continue exercise over the summer, and I pledge to do a better job of staying on my broom." His pledge elicited some laughter, and he announced, "The meeting is adjourned."

Not quite certain how they felt about the choice, Miss Gray and Mr. Lennox offered their congratulations.

Examinations began the following day. Professor Flamel told Elizabeth not to bother when she arrived at Potions. "The work you've done teaching? I would not feel right having you take the examination. I know you would do very well. Oh, and the other faculty discussed this as well. I dare say you and your cousin will find grading all your exams a more onerous task than taking examinations yourself."

"Thank you. I believe I will still sit for Transfigurations, however."

"I believe Professor Rookwood would actually prefer you not."

"But I always do well!"

"And that is why he prefer you not. Should you take the first, he fears he might be charged with favoritism."

"So what should I do with myself while others write their examinations?"

"Work your cousin to decide how you'll grade the exams. I suspect you'll find it more difficult than you imagine."

Professor Flamel's prediction proved true when Robin and Elizabeth sat down with the tests from the second years.

"I can't read this handwriting!" Mr. Fletcher complained.

Elizabeth examined the offending parchment. "It appears deliberately illegible."

"How can I score that? This might be a brilliant piece of work."

"It's not."

"How do you--"

"If students know the answer they will write as clearly as they are able. Poor writing indicates the student hopes you'll believe the correct answer is buried under illegible scrawl."

After comparing their respective evaluations of a few test papers they realized they would each need to grade all the exams, then average the scores they assigned for each student.

Almost a half hour later Elizabeth stared at two parchments in front of her. "I have a question about who should receive the higher mark."

"What is it?" Robin grunted, trying hard to decipher what might have been written in Babylonic cuneiform

"Two papers. One student clearly knows the material, but grammar, spelling, punctuation - or rather the lack thereof - and organization are what one might expect from a moderately trained black and tan. The other paper contains almost lyric flights of brilliant prose, but the student doesn't know the material very well."

Thursday evening and Hufflepuff held their last evening of waltzes. All students who wished to attend were invited, which made it slightly difficult for Professor Ogden, who had been pretending with difficulty all year that he didn't know what was happening in his house. Hufflepuff students who actually wished to study vacated their house for the quiet of the library.

Although slightly jealous that he had been named Hufflepuff quidditch captain, Miss Cooper and Miss Crouch forgave Mr. Andrews enough to dance with him. Rose Fowler proved a welcome addition to the party, arriving with three Ravenclaw wizards. While both Mr. Wells and Elizabeth's brother waltzed well Weasel had another way to impress his team captain, playing some four-hand waltzes with his sister.

Elizabeth danced what both feared would be her last waltz with Mr. Potter. "You lead very well," she complimented him. "I enjoy following."

He said nothing, but held her a little closer.

"When do you leave?"

"I leave school a few days after the banquet. Then I attend to details in London for two weeks. Perhaps I can see you?"

"My family has left the city…"

"What are your plans?"

She sighed, "I wish I knew. Vivien wants me to spend a month with her at the Malfoy home."

Charles raised an eyebrow.

"His father invited us."

"And Miss Kestrel has hopes of a longer stay?"

Elizabeth giggled, "You put that in a very delicate manner. My parents offered me a grand tour. I don't know… I might have asked Vivien to accompany me, but she hopes to be unavailable. For the last seven years I looked forward to graduating from Hogwarts. But now that it is actually here I don't know what to do with myself."

As the Hufflepuff party broke up Charles took out his wand, _"Accio Sketches."_ In a few seconds a paper wrapped parcel arrived in his hands. He handed the book to Elizabeth, "A newly published muggle work, my father found it amusing."

"And, of course, your galleons are inside."

He grinned broadly, "Not at all. I actually hoped you would make such an accusation. The book is _Sketches by Boz_. A collection of essays by some fellow who reports on the law courts."

"Then I accept. Thank you."

"No, thank you."

"Thank me? For accepting a gift?"

"You'll see."

Elizabeth felt some annoyance to find six galleons inside the front cover, along with a note from Charles Potter.

"I anticipate you will hesitate to accept the book in the belief you will find these coins. If you accept without question you should not be surprised. If you ask if the galleons are inside I will have to admit that fact, but suspect your curiosity about the book will compel you to accept the gift. But my dearest hope is that you shall ask in some manner that I may shamelessly misinterpret so that I may answer no. These belong to you, not me."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed in thought. She felt quite certain the house elves would insert the galleons into any sort of food if she made the request, but she wasn't certain how to insure it would end up on his plate and not that of some other student. But she felt certain she'd find the means to achieve her goal.

Miss Gray and Mr. Fletcher were both asked to attend part of a faculty meeting where the awards at the final banquet and the House Cup were discussed. Another note from Professor Saxifrage was read, thanking them. As students they were asked to leave before final details were discussed by the regular faculty. But before their departure Mrs. Pilton informed them. "Because of your unique situation you will be allowed to sit with faculty, should you wish, or with your houses, if you prefer."

Elizabeth spoke first, "I'd rather sit with Slytherin."

"And I with Hufflepuff," Robert seconded.

"I suspected that would be the case, but I wanted you to know you had a choice."

By the weekend some students slept late from exhaustion, while others prowled the halls unable to sleep because of worry over their examinations. Some began to pack to return home. Miss Crouch borrowed a fourth year text for transfigurations and with Miss Cooper and Miss Honig began preparing for the upcoming school year. Talk of an informal quidditch game failed to generate an actual match. And in his customary alcove Mr. Malfoy continued his customary games of whist.

Elizabeth thought she saw two Governors, but at a distance and on their way somewhere - probably the little-used meeting room at the back of the Great Hall. She did not see her father, but assumed he would inform her of what happened at the Governors' meeting when she returned home. She was too distracted with concern about the meeting to accept Mr. Potter's invitation to walk into Hogsmeade, but accepted an invitation to play cards with him in Gryffindor that evening.

Two extra tables were on the faculty dais for the Governors when the students filed into the Great Hall for the final banquet. Mr. Gray and Mr. Wilson sat together at the furthest end. Neither man looked happy. Elizabeth assumed their expressions stemmed merely from their proximity to each other, the two had quarreled over _everything_ since joining the group. But Elizabeth could not understand why the two sat side-by-side. Mrs. Pilton and most of the others at the faculty table, appeared in cheerful spirits.

Recognition for academic excellence took much of the time.

Beginning with the first years the faculty, in turn, named the top student in his or her field of study. Students rose when mentioned to the applause of those in their houses and their friends. At the end of the individual course recognitions Mrs. Pilton named the top student for the year. Phineas Nigellus Black took the honor for highest marks among the first years. His air of smug superiority had endeared him to few, even in Slytherin, during the year and any applause outside his own house could be termed polite at best. The top students were allowed to say a few words, and custom dictated the faculty be thanked in the remarks. He managed to ignore the faculty and insult his fellow students while congratulating only himself. Elizabeth wondered if giving him a beater's club and putting him in the air against Miss Osgood of Gryffindor might teach him a valuable lesson in humility.

Mr. Jones of Gryffindor received honors as the top student of the second year class. While some students refused to recognize the black man with their applause he was applauded by friends in all the houses, and the noise of Gryffindor students stamping their feet and chanting "Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!" filled the hall.

Recognition for the third year students went very much as it had in previous years. The highest marks in each individual course of study except history went to the Weird Sisters of Slytherin. Mr. Andrews repeated in history, and repeated as top student in the class. After thanking the faculty he turned to the Slytherin table and apologized. "I feel quite unworthy of this honor, given that the three most brilliant students in my year gathered more firsts. I thank them sincerely for allowing me to study with them and learn from them. They are more deserving of this recognition." Everyone applauded for the redhaired Hufflepuff, with the Sisters cheering as loudly as anyone at his own house.

Owl took several firsts in the fourth year classes, and Slytherin hoped he would be named top student, but a Ravenclaw witch edged him out. Another Ravenclaw witch took the honor for fifth years, with a Slytherin wizard achieving the award for sixth.

During the naming of individual firsts for the seventh years Elizabeth stood to announce the herbology results. Before she could speak, however, Mrs. Pilton arose and beckoned for Miss Gray to sit down. "Because Miss Gray and Mr. Fletcher assumed the teaching of the class after the injury of Professor Saxifrage they were unable to consider themselves for the recognition as first in the class. I wrote to Professor Saxifrage and sought her advice on the subject. Her reply suggested I name them both as sharing the honor - since they are the two best students she has had in years."

Elizabeth found her eyes tearing as students throughout the Great Hall stood and gave an ovation to Robert and her. Top student for the seventh years went to a Gryffindor witch who almost no one knew personally because she lived her life outside of classes in the library.

After the academic recognition Mrs. Pilton arose to make her remarks. "After a productive meeting of the Governors I am pleased to report progress in a number of areas.  
"Pure selfishness demands I first mention that I was formally offered the position of Headmaster, and I gratefully accepted the honor. I am delighted with the fact I will no longer be introduced as, 'The interim head'.  
"As great as my joy to receive this post, however, is the joy I feel informing you who return in the fall that you should see no unfamiliar faces among the faculty. That alone might give me enough time to put my office in order. There is a caveat attached to the good news, however. Professor Flamel only came to Hogwarts with the understanding he would serve a single year in potions. He has agreed to stay on an additional year so a careful search can be held for a new professor. I ask all of you returning in the fall to compliment him throughout the year and ask him to take the position on a permanent basis."

Laughter and applause greeted her remarks, and Professor Flamel smiled and shook his head 'no' as some students called for him to stay.

"Thank you," Mrs. Pilton told the students as the applause died. "I must report some changes on the Board of Governors--"

"Can we waltz next year?" someone shouted.

The Head ignored the question, "Two men who have served for years are leaving the Board and replacements must be found. While they leave the Governors, however, they will continue to work for the improvement of the school.  
"Mr. Gray, who has wide-ranging contacts in the muggle community, has accepted the job of planning a rail line into Hogsmeade. I don't understand all the necessary details, but it will require someone with his vision and talents to make it a reality. Some of you sitting here tonight will arrive and depart from Hogsmeade by steam locomotive in a few years time."

More applause followed the announcement, with Mr. Gray looking extremely uncomfortable. Elizabeth felt confused and wondered what had happened. Mrs. Pilton must have muddled the announcement. The idea of a track and steam engine had been Mr. Wilson's; her father had always spoken against it.

"Like Mr. Gray, Mr. Wilson has long been concerned about how the rapid changes we see in the muggle world will affect the wizarding community. It appears that the two spheres are growing apart more quickly than at any point since the witchcraft trials.  
"In the belief that we must understand the larger world in which we live and not become too insular Mr. Wilson will define a new course of study at Hogwarts. In a few years we hope to begin classes in muggle society, to assure that we can move between the two worlds in comfort, without drawing attention to ourselves."

This explanation brought less applause, but did nothing to help Elizabeth's confusion. Her father had advocated the creation of a new class. Mrs. Pilton had to have mixed up the details. _"She never could get organized, in her office or in her mind."_

Miss Gray missed anything else Mrs. Pilton said in regard to Governors, classes, or administration as she tried to understand what could have happened. Her attention was brought back to the speaker when Mrs. Pilton announced the winner of the dueling championship and called Mr. Potter forward to receive the award. No one knew if the silver wands with the dragon heart-sinew core from Ollivander's could be considered practical for anything other than slaying werewolves, but engraved with the name and year of the winner they were highly sought after.

Charles received a smattering of jeers along with the applause as he held the wand up. Gryffindor students rose and applauded while most at Slytherin refused to acknowledge the award, holding that Mr. Malfoy should have received the honor.

"I wish this award could have been untainted by controversy," Mr. Potter remarked. "But I am exceedingly glad I won't have to face Mr. Bulstrode again." He nodded at the huge Slytherin, "I predict you'll have at least one of these before you leave." Augustus smiled and nodded at the comment. Charles looked around the room, "For those of you who might duel against him… I advise you to aim for his nose."

Laughter followed Mr. Potter back to his seat at Gryffindor.

Penelope Pilton then presented the Quidditch Cup. "I sometimes wish to scold the many students who feel that the Quidditch Cup represents a greater honor to a house than academic awards. But on those occasions I remember my own student days at Hogwarts and reflect that things have not changed very much. It was a good year for quidditch. Mr. Fletcher of Hufflepuff allowed us to witness an unusual display of sportsmanship. I ask that all of you who play during your time here take Mr. Fletcher as a model." She pointed to an embarrassed Robin who nodded to the applause. "Mr. Jones, of Gryffindor, has shown that we should never be complacent, simply accepting things as they are, but be willing to try new things." She paused and looked at Wolf. The African grinned broadly and waved at the students. "Miss Gray of Slytherin displayed skills as a keeper you will not see again during your time at Hogwarts. While I am intensely proud of all the teams this year, the cup can only be awarded to one house, and this year that house is Ravenclaw."

Rose Fowler strode to the head table. She seemed slightly subdued as she accepted the cup and held it aloft to wild cheers from the Ravenclaw table and scattered cries of boo from other tables. "It is with mixed feelings that I accept the Cup for Ravenclaw," she began, and the students fell silent. "I belong to those who object to our method of determine the winner of the Quidditch Cup. By only considering the total points scored in all games played it becomes theoretically possible for a team to lose three very long games, yet win the Cup from a team who has won three games. While that absurdity has not yet occurred it might could. There are years when a team with a single win defeats a team with two.  
"My own feelings are that, should two houses each have two wins and one loss, the Cup should not be awarded on total points scored, but on which of the two teams beat the other when they played."

There were cries of, "Hear! Hear!" from students who agreed with the approach, and wild applause from the Slytherin table - where several students shouted out their willingness to accept the Cup.

"However," Rose continued, "it is not mine to change the rules so I accept the Cup with a small measure of reluctance. However, rest assured, next year Ravenclaw will beat you all so convincingly that there can be no possible controversy associated with our right to keep it for another year."

There were other remarks from Mrs. Pilton and various faculty members. Even Mr. Cruikshank spoke for the Governors. Miss Gray heard none of it, wondering what had happened to her father and how he could have been forced out - for she knew he would not leave voluntarily. She grew increasingly angry and frustrated as she endured the speeches. She wanted to know what had happened. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts it didn't even register on her consciousness when Mrs. Pilton waved her wand and the banners which had been furled on all sides of the Great Hall unrolled to show their silver emblazoned serpents, Slytherin had been named House of the year.

The applause from those around her drew Elizabeth back to the present as Sir William stood to accept the House Cup and thank the Slytherin students for the year they had finished.

Miss Kestrel patted Miss Gray on the shoulder as Sir William spoke. "Mrs. Pilton has never listened to you talk about her," she whispered to Elizabeth.

"What?"

"All the nice things she said about you just now. I've never heard a good word from you about her."

Having missed whatever the Head had told the students Elizabeth wasn't certain how to respond, but she suspected that any compliments had been ironic rather than sincere.

Students were dismissed to return to their houses soon after the announcement of Slytherin being named top house for the year. Many stopped at the Slytherin table to offer congratulations.

Confused and uncertain about what had occurred, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to talk with her father. At the end of the meal she headed for the faculty dais at the end of the Great Hall. Her cousin managed to intercept her before she reached George Gray. "We need to go to Mrs. Pilton's office."

"I need to see my father."

"She told me it was important."

"It's important I speak to my father."

"Lizzy! We need to--"

"I need to see my father," she snapped. Then she drew a deep breath and tried with little success to calm herself, "I will go as soon as I speak with my father. I need to know what has happened."

"I don't understand what you--"

"I said I'd go as soon as I am able. But I must speak with my father first."

Mr. Gray noted his daughter's approach and stepped down on the floor of the Great Hall to speak with her. In the general commotion of students saying goodbyes and leaving for their houses it was easy to be ignored as they stood to one side of the Hall, but somewhat difficult to be heard over the noise.

"What happened?" were the first words out of Elizabeth's mouth.

Her father sighed, "There appears to be both good news and bad news. The good news is that the Governors finally recognized what a disruptive influence Wilson was on the board and forced him out. The bad news is that, rather than recognizing the important work I've done in blocking his plans over the years, they seemed to imagine I was part of the problem also and I've been forced to leave."

"That is so unfair!"

"Perhaps, but I must live with it."

"Did I misunderstand what was said about laying rails into Hogsmeade? Or did Mrs. Pilton give the incorrect information?"

"If you heard her say I have been asked to complete the project you heard correctly. Perhaps it was further punishment for Wilson - having his idea given to me to finish. Perhaps they thought I'd complete it better."

"So… You're in a position to sabotage the plan?"

"I could… But since they've given him my project he would simply ruin mine in retaliation. At least I can insure a high level of security when the rails are laid."

"You'll really see it through?"

"I fear I must. I am loyal to the school and Governors even if I disagree with the decision… I've asked Wilson and his wife to spend a couple weeks with us this summer, give us a chance to bring the other up to date on each other's projects. I never disliked Wilson as a person, just always thought he was too insistent on pushing his own agenda on the Governors." Mr. Gray sighed, "Perhaps it is all for the best. At least with him off the board the Governors can get their work accomplished. I should appreciate the rest - fighting his plans took a great deal of my strength."

"So… You're happy to be off the Governors?"

"No," he smiled. "But if one can't change what has happened one must make the best of it."

"I am sorry."

"No regrets. I fought the good fight. Your mother wants to know when we will see you and your brothers."

"We should leave tomorrow. Make certain the fireplace is open in the parlor and the servants aren't present."

"Hmm… Need some explanation if the servants notice anything. I'd best send Geoffrey out on numerous small errands tomorrow and everyone will assume he picked you up at some point. Oh, what is this about you spending a month at Malfoy Hall?"

"As I said, Viv and I were invited."

He gave his daughter a knowing wink, "So, someone is interested in young Malfoy?"

Elizabeth blushed, "Vivien. I am not."

"Ah. Well, it is still a good connection. Doing business with the family would be a great coup for me. A great coup and greater profit. Don't be shy in talking about all I import."

"How can you talk of profit at a time like this? You've just been forced from the Governors. You've worked hard for years for the school. It is shameful for you to be mistreated in this manner."

"I try and remain philosophic. I've done what I could and have no regrets. Reverend Collins had a sermon last winter. One of the letter writing chaps said something about forgetting what was behind and pressing on ahead."

Elizabeth's reply was cut off by the approach of her cousin, who came hurrying toward them across the now almost deserted Great Hall.

"Lizzy! Mrs. Pilton wishes to see us, now!"

"I told you, I wish to speak with my father."

"It is quite all right, Dear," her father told her, and kissed Elizabeth on the forehead. "I shall see you at home tomorrow."

* * *

Major General Stanley could have written a washing bill in Babylonic cuneiform. See Pirates of Penzance.

Black and tan - Neither the British paramilitary forces attempting to put down Irish rebellion in 1920-21, nor the drink - a blend of pale ale and stout, but rather the terrier. See Patience.

Sketches by Boz, a collection of early essays by a young reporter saw publication in 1836. The author, Charles Dickens, went on to considerable fame in the Victorian era.


	24. The Griffindor, the Witch & the Wardrobe

Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Hogwarts. There are some other places, names, and ghosts taken from the Harry Potter series, but if you are looking for the primary characters from those stories you will need to look elsewhere.

**The Griffindor, the Witch, and the Boggart in the Wardrobe**

Her mind still in a whirl Elizabeth found herself again sitting in the Head's office. Uncertainty over her own future, her father's departure from the Governors, and Charles Potter all fought for attention and she had trouble listening as Mrs. Pilton began, "I told something of a half-truth to the students tonight. Professor Saxifrage will not return this fall. She is recovering nicely, but her period of recuperation reminded her of an old dream. She will take a year's Sabbatical to study herbs in the Basque region of Spain. The Governors granted me the freedom to select any witch or wizard I chose to fill in for her. Upon reflection I determined not to ask outside the school. I want students to be prepared for her return the following year. The two of you did a fine job, so I will ask one of you is willing to serve as junior faculty for a single year."

Elizabeth found her heart beating faster. She loved herbology and the appointment could give her purpose. She licked dry lips nervously and glanced at Robin. He seemed calmer than she would have thought possible. Perhaps the idea did not thrill him as much as it thrilled her. _"Please, ask me. Please, ask me."_ Perhaps if she wished it hard enough it would influence the headmistress.

"As I said, you both did admirable jobs in the classroom, and I am extremely grateful. This has been a very difficult decision for me, I believe you both capable and that whichever one of you I ask, should he or she accept, will do well. However, I will only ask one of you…" She paused briefly and Elizabeth held her breath. "Mr. Fletcher, would you consent to teach herbology in the coming school year?"

Robin took a couple seconds to answer. Elizabeth hoped he might say no. But he responded, "I would be honored."

Elizabeth spun into a depression. The headmistress may have said more to her and Robert, but she heard none of it. She and the headmistress had never liked each other, that must have been the reason for her choice. When Robert stood he noticed Elizabeth's blank look and nudged her to gain her attention. She rose and stumbled after him as they left the Headmaster's office.

Once in the hallway he turned to her, "Lizzy, please, you've got to help me!"

"Help you?"

"I could never read Professor Saxifrage's notes. You were the one who put the third term lesson plans into some sort of order -- but I won't be able to decipher what she wrote for the first two terms."

She almost turned him down. Part of her wanted him to fail. Perhaps she would be asked to teach. Or perhaps just so that he would experience the kind of pain she felt at that moment. But he was her closest friend in the world. The person who was always there for her, to lift her spirits when she was down and rejoice with her on her successes. The choice had been that of the headmistress and she shouldn't spite her cousin.

"I suppose," she sighed. "Do you want to come for a visit this summer? I don't have any plans. You can stay for a couple weeks and we can go over her notes together."

"Is there any way you could stay here for a little while longer? I'd like to work on the notes where we have the greenhouses and I can be certain everything is in order."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She did not want to stay here in the nearly empty school helping Robin prepare for the job for which she had been rejected.

He sensed her hesitation, "Please, Lizzy, I need you."

She sighed, "Yes." _"I will write Professor Saxifrage and ask if she needs a traveling companion for her trip to Spain."_

The exodus from Hogwarts began the day after the banquet. Unlike first night, when all the students needed to present themselves on the same day, the journeys home were scattered out. Vivien left for London immediately, anxious to procure garments suitable for a month at Malfoy Hall and capable of impressing the elder Malfoy. Charlotte left also to fulfill various duties prior to her marriage. Kitty remained, at present, in the room with Elizabeth.

While the majority of students left the first day the remaining students still sat with their houses for supper than evening.

Charles was surprised to find Miss Gray at the meal and went over to see her and Kitty after eating. "You're still here?"

Elizabeth made a great show of holding up her hands and examining the backs. Then she turned them over and stared at his palms. "Yes, you are quite right. I am still here."

"You know what I mean. Didn't you say you were going home? Basil left today and I don't see the Weasel."

"I'll be staying at school for… I'm not certain. But might I ask why you haven't left?"

"You would begrudge me one final meal with my comrades? The men and women with whom I have studied and laughed. You are so cruel you would drive me out?"

"Of course not… I am simply curious."

"I've spent the day in the library. I've been looking for any information the school might have on the wizarding communities we will visit. There is virtually nothing - my father's work will fill a great need."

"So… If you found nothing do you leave tomorrow?"

He shrugged, "Perhaps… You didn't explain why you are still here."

"Robin has been asked to teach herbology next year and he needs me to help him translate Professor Saxifrage's notes into a form he can comprehend."

"So how long will you be here?"

"I can't say. It might be a week or two. I'm afraid this will sound silly, but I'm very sorry you're leaving tomorrow. I know your father's work is important, but I'll miss you." Elizabeth fell silent.

Charles managed to get a smile from her. "So, you've finally accepted that I'm three-quarters of a decent chap?"

"You might even be seven-eighths of a decent chap. Write me, please."

"Only if you promise to write me… I… I'm going to miss you too."

There was an awkward silence between them until Kitty spoke up, "We could ask your cousin to play whist," Miss Kelly suggested to Elizabeth. "I'll let you keep Charles for a partner."

When the two seemed to hesitate she amended her suggestion to, "Or you can ask your cousin if he will play backgammon with me and I'll let the two of you find other ways to entertain each other."

Charles cleared his throat, "I, uh… Perhaps a walk along the lake?"

They sat on the log and stared out at the reflection of the stars and moon on the water. They each had much to say, but neither knew how to start. He needed to leave for Asia and had no idea when he might be back to Britain. She had no idea what she would do. The grand tour no longer sounded nearly so grand and she didn't know how the professor would respond to the letter she had written. They would each have given all their worldly goods to know what was on the other's mind.

Elizabeth spent the next day with Robin in the greenhouses and classroom. Lobelia Saxifrage's spidery handwriting was a chore even for Elizabeth. By the end of the day she had a splitting headache and they had not finished going through the plans for the first year classes.

More students had left during the day. The remaining students shared a single long table for dinner. And across from Elizabeth sat, Charles Potter. "Why are you still here?" she demanded. "I mean, I'm not unhappy about the fact, merely very surprised. Didn't you say you were leaving today?"

"There must be information of value in the library, I merely missed it yesterday. So I spent another day doing research."

"Did you have any better success?"

He ignored the question. "Perhaps some whist this evening?"

Elizabeth kept the stakes low, a knut a point, because she knew neither her cousin nor Kitty could afford to play for more. Elizabeth need not have worried. She and Charles Potter were spectacularly mediocre in their play that evening, thinking about things other than the game and by the end of the evening They owed one sickle and seven knuts to their opponents.

After breakfast the next day Kitty began to pack her trunk while Elizabeth worked with Robin. Elizabeth felt a pang of irrational jealousy that afternoon during a break from herbology when she could find neither Kitty nor Charles and feared they might be together and wondered if Miss Kelly were the reason Charles prolonged his stay at the school. Miss Gray calmed herself and decided to begin her own packing. Woolens and things she knew she would not need again at school could be put away. A hill troll with a massive club menaced her as she tried to decide if an old robe was worth taking home or should be discarded. The hill troll threatened her with a larger club on her next trip to the wardrobe, and on her third trip the club bore an ugly spike. Elizabeth paused before her next trip to the wardrobe. Whoever received the room next year would certainly have the boggart destroyed. How much could a boggart comprehend? Obviously they had some sort of capacity to read the minds of others - to search for fears.

"I will not be returning to Hogwarts this fall," she spoke aloud. "If you move to my trunk you will be safe. I will take you with me."

The hill troll was gone when she opened the wardrobe again, but the creature sometimes grew discouraged when it could not frighten her.

Elizabeth and Kitty prepared for dinner that evening, but Elizabeth left the room first. She turned and called to her friend. "I need a handkerchief. Would you see if I've packed them in my trunk?"

A loud shriek told Miss Gray that the boggart had moved its place of residence.

"I leave early tomorrow," Miss Kelly told the others as they ate. She turned to Charles, "Lord knows when I'll see you again. But if Lizzy wants to lose a little more money I'll be happy to play whist again."

"My brain hurts from too much thinking to play whist," Robin complained.

"There's always speculation or loo. We could even ask a couple more students to play."

Kitty left before breakfast in the morning. To Robin's embarrassment an owl arrived for him from Miss Lovegood, who found two pages insufficient to express her rapture over the fact he would be teaching herbology in the fall. At least Robin assumed the entire letter continued in the same vein as the partial page he read. He turned to Mr. Potter, "Did you send her the news that I would be teaching?"

"I didn't," Charles assured him. "But I wasn't the only Gryffindor who remained here long enough to learn about your plans."

Robin turned to his cousin, "Lizzy?" he asked in an accusing tone.

"Sadly, I must confess to being innocent also. I would certainly have sent her an owl if I'd thought of it. I shall have to visit Hogwarts a few times next year to see how her pursuit of you progresses. There's not been a good faculty-student scandal since…" She turned to Charles, "Was your mother in pursuit of your father when he taught here? Or was your father interested in her when she was a student?"

Charles blushed and said nothing.

"Like Professor Wood was interested in you?" Robin reminded Elizabeth.

"What was that?" Charles asked.

"I always thought Professor Wood had an interest in Lizzy. Of course he was very circumspect about it. But there were a number of clues - such as how often he asked her to dance. Perhaps he was waiting until you graduated to say something," he suggested to his cousin.

"I've graduated."

"The amount of time you've spent with Charles frightened him away."

"Or perhaps his interest existed only in your own imagination, and you told it to me simply to distract me," Elizabeth protested.

"What do you think, Charles?"

Mr. Potter merely looked confused.

"I will certainly take Professor Wood as my model," Robin promised.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "If you claim the vampire had an interest in me, and he serves as your model, does that indicate you have an interest in Miss Lovegood?"

"Circumspect! I said he was very circumspect. That was all I meant."

"Yes, but you claim that he was interested, and have him as a model of being circumspect towards someone he felt attraction towards. That certainly sounds like you feel an attraction towards Miss Lovegood."

"I meant that he didn't show any partiality! That's all I meant."

"If he didn't show any partiality then he could hardly have shown an interest in me. You are terribly inconsistent." She turned to Mr. Potter for support. "Do you find him inconsistent in his assertions?" Uncertain what he was finding Charles nodded his head in agreement. Elizabeth turned back to her cousin. "See? Now if you are interested in a young woman you should be honest and confess your feelings towards her. Do not leave her to guess. Miss Lovegood is certainly open in her feelings towards you."

"Almost painfully so," Mr. Fletcher muttered.

"And you should be equally frank with her." She turned to Charles. "Could a young woman depend on you being frank in your feelings?"

If Elizabeth hoped for a profession of his feelings after her pointed hint she had reason to be disappointed. He stammered something incoherent and excused himself from the table.

"If you need a break from your research you should stop by the greenhouse," Elizabeth suggested as Mr. Potter stood to leave. "The stable delivered a load of fertilizer and Robin would appreciate help with it."

Charles came to help Robin with the fertilizer in the afternoon, and lingered so long Elizabeth finally inquired if he didn't have work to do in the library.

Elizabeth and Charles spent the evening together at the lake, largely in moody silence. She wanted him to express his feelings, but facing the long trip he preferred to say nothing. The next evening they attempted to play cribbage with similar results. They only wanted to be with each other, yet being together while the other remained silent and miserable only increased the misery they each felt. After Elizabeth helped Robin with his notes the next day she and Charles walked into Hogsmeade for dinner at the Three Broomsticks. Several times during dinner she thought he would talk about his feelings. But each time she smiled hopefully at him he grew embarrassed and changed the topic of conversation.

Robin seemed happy and in no mood to work when Elizabeth found him in the greenhouse the next morning. With her own mood being foul she complained, "We need to get started."

"We've been working hard for days. We deserve a break…" Robin looked thoughtful. "Lizzy, I really appreciate all you've done. I'm going to miss you."

"What are you talking about? We've more than a week of work before I can possibly leave."

"Well, whenever you leave, I want you to know how much your help has meant."

While she pondered his words and seeming reluctance to start work that morning a house elf arrived asking Elizabeth to go to Mrs. Pilton's office immediately.

To Miss Gray's surprise and delight Professor Saxifrage sat on a chair. The older woman stood and embraced Elizabeth and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Everyone tells me that you and Robin did a very credible job in the spring. I'm proud of you. Wish there was time to chat - but the young whelp never could read my writing and I've got to make certain his plans are in order before I leave for Spain."

"Have you decided about a traveling companion?"

The professor laughed, "I'm certain you'll let me know if you're still interested."

"I am," Elizabeth began, "I want to go with--" but the herbology professor had left as though not hearing a word Miss Gray spoke.

"Please, sit down," Mrs. Pilton invited Elizabeth. Miss Gray moved two books off a chair and onto a larger pile on the floor. The headmaster's office had always been piled with clutter, and it only seemed worse today. Mrs. Pilton noticed the disapproving look. "There never seemed a point to arrange things when my appointments were only from one year to the next. Now that I am truly headmistress I have begun to organize, but given the degree of chaos I fear it will take all summer - and it will look worse before it looks better.

Mrs. Pilton began to pace nervously about the room as Elizabeth waited for her to begin. "Miss Gray, you have graduated now and we need to be honest with each other. We don't like it each other, and I doubt that will change. I always resented the way you served as your father's spy here at Hogwarts. Had I--"

"I didn't spy!"

Elizabeth wilted under Mrs. Pilton's glare. "Miss Gray, I insist that we be honest with each other. Your role as spy was as clear as the work of that damn bird."

"My father wanted what was best for the school!"

"So did Wilson. And neither knew how to listen. Don't make their mistake."

Elizabeth fell silent, and the headmistress continued. "Despite my resentment I tried to be fair with you. Whether I succeeded or not I cannot judge. Choosing between you and Mr. Fletcher for the teaching position was not easy. Either of you would have done well. But I had another concern, one I thought better suited to your interests. I brought my proposal before the Wizard's Guild, but they were slow in accepting my suggestion. This morning, however, I received an owl with confirmation."

Elizabeth stared blankly at the headmistress. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Mrs. Pilton laughed. "Your cousin kept our secret? I can't believe it. I felt certain he would speak to you."

Miss Gray's mouth fell open, "Robert knew something? And he didn't tell me?" The headmistress nodded. Elizabeth resolved to find Robin as soon as her meeting with the headmistress ended and try and choke the life out of him.

"There was nothing definite," the Head reminded Elizabeth. "He suggested keeping you here to help him, but he said nothing lest the Guild not approve."

"He should have said something."

"No, he should not have. I am simply surprised that he managed to remain silent."

"Robin will always try and do what is right. But you said this is news for me?"

"You are certainly aware of the Potter expedition."

"Of course."

"Whether the Durmstrang witches who accompany the Potter group can be trusted is a matter of concern. Professor Potter has made some interesting discoveries on his earlier trips and I persuaded the Guild that, with the death of Mrs. Potter, there was a need for a herbologist - and a spy. I recommended the Guild fund your presence with the expedition in both capacities."

"I won't spy on the Potters!" Elizabeth shouted.

"We are not asking you to do so. The Guild simply wants to make certain that all the information Professor Potter discovers arrives back in Britain. It is only the Durmstrang witches who we do not trust."

Elizabeth fell into a moody silence. "I'm not certain if Charles Potter wants me along on the journey."

It was now Penelope Pilton's turn to stare in a blank and uncomprehending manner. "I was under the impression that you and Charles Potter were engaged to marry."

Elizabeth managed a bitter laugh, "Stupid rumor. We're friends… I think. The last few days he has been too moody for decent conversation."

"But he loves you so much."

Elizabeth could not believe her words. "What are you talking about?"

"There were the long conversations you had every Tuesday after the class you taught."

"He had a class near the herbology room at that time. It was purely by chance that we met for conversation."

"Miss Gray, I said we should be honest with each other. Do you believe me naïve or are you that unaware?"

"I'm attempting to be honest with you, I've simply had little practice. Unaware of what?"

"Mr. Potter's prior class was Potions."

"But… But that's on the other side of the school!"

"I am well aware of that fact. I received three complaints of students knocked off their feet as he ran across the school to see you. Eventually students learned to clear the halls and give him room."

"Why did no one tell me?"

"We assumed you knew. He really told you he had a class near Herbology?"

"Yes."

"And you believed him?"

"Of course! I--"

"Miss Gray, what classes could a seventh year have taken near the Herbology room?"

Elizabeth thought for a minute, wondering why she had never thought to ask him the question. She had simply been so pleased to see him it had never entered her mind to ask him for more details. "It doesn't mean he loves me. We enjoyed each other's company."

"And that is your explanation for all the time you spent together at the balls? His interest in your well-being when you were hurt in the quidditch game? The kiss you gave him during the dueling competition?"

"He had been turned into a horse! The transfiguration spells to turn someone into a frog or toad are broken by a kiss. I thought it might help him."

"Do you have an explanation for why he remains at Hogwarts, after telling several faculty members about the importance of going to London and completing the final preparations for his trip?"

"He… No, I don't."

"The explanation is that he loves you."

"Then why has he said nothing?"

"Miss Gray, I do not pretend I can read minds. Perhaps he has been reluctant to say anything when he prepares to leave the country. Perhaps you told him something which has discouraged him… What are your feelings towards the young man?"

"I…"

"Miss Gray, I put considerable effort into making this proposal to the Wizard's Guild. I will look foolish if you reject the offer, but am prepared to live with that. The question is your feelings towards young Potter. Are you willing to go with him?"

"I… I… Yes, if he wants me."

"Then, unless I am very much mistaken, you need to be off as quickly as possible."

"But if he doesn't love me?"

"I have already confessed I can not read minds. But every indication I can see suggests he loves you deeply and currently experiences the acutest sort of misery at the prospect of leaving you."

Joy and disbelief swirled through Elizabeth's minds in equal parts. "How am I to discover--"

"You will probably fare better talking with young Potter himself than me."

Elizabeth left Mrs. Pilton's office with her head spinning. She wanted answers to her questions and wanted them a week ago. Uncertain where to locate the source for answers she headed to the kitchen. "I need to see Charles Potter of Gryffindor immediately. Can any of you help me?"

Half a dozen of the house elves stopped scouring kettles and polishing copper pots to assist her. "Certainly, Miss Gray," one answered.

"Thank you, Flinn. I shall wait outside the Great Hall."

She paced and fretted for what seemed like an eternity, but the clock insisted lasted hardly a quarter hour before she heard footsteps swiftly approaching. He skidded to a halt in front of her, "What's wrong?"

"Mr. Potter, I've heard a story I have trouble believing. I've always heard Gryffindor took pride in the courage of her sons and daughters."

"Why did you ask--"

"Is that true or not?"

"It is certainly true."

"Yet I have just been told of an act of abject cowardice on the part of a recent graduate. A fear I can not comprehend."

He flushed with anger, "Who made the accusation? Who was accused?"

"My source was Mrs. Pilton. And Mr. Potter," she pointed at him, _"Ecce homo."_

"What?"

"She claims you have someone you love, but you've never spoken a word of your feelings towards her."

He looked confused.

"Do you deny the accusation or admit to the charges?" she demanded.

"I don't understand… What…"

"I think it is clear enough. True or false?"

"True," he admitted.

"And what possessed you to keep your mouth shut on such a matter? Is cowardice the best excuse you can offer for your behavior?"

"I'm not a coward!"

"Oh, so you claim another motive for your silence. What kept you from speaking?"

"She has no interest in me. It seemed easier to say nothing."

"And the reason you believe she has no interest?"

"How does she hate me, let me count the ways… I am the last person she would ever marry, which I have from her own lips. Not tall enough either. She was clear on that also. My own behavior towards her was less than exemplary, and finally I am leaving for the continent and may not be back for years."

"You must tell her your feelings before you go."

"No."

"I don't recall offering you an option on this. It would not be fair to her to leave without telling her."

"But she isn't interested."

"And the unfortunate possibility raises its head that you are an idiot on top of being a coward. Tell me, have you loved this person since arriving at school and pined silently for her these last six years?"

"No, I couldn't abide her for most of the time."

"If your opinion has changed towards her, could not her opinion change towards you?"

"I…"

"Tell me!"

"I love you."

Elizabeth smiled, "Was that so very hard to say?"

"In point of fact, it was. And I don't see that it changes anything. I'm going away and your parents have lists of men to whom they will introduce you. Why did you need me to say that? How do you feel about me?"

"I had to know your feelings because the Wizard's Guild just offered me a position. They want me to accompany your father's expedition and assist with the herbology work. I had to know your feelings towards me before I accepted."

Joy and amazement shone on his face, and he suddenly put an arm around her. "You will forgive me, but I have a tremendous fear you are not Elizabeth Gray at all, but the boggle trying to torture me."

"And how do you propose to verify if--"

His lips ended her question. They were both smiling at the end of the test. "Satisfied?" she asked.

"Still slightly suspicious… I believe we should run the test again."

They ran the second test a little longer.

"You haven't told me your feelings," He said at the end of the test. "But I give you high marks in nonverbal communication."

The enormity of the trip finally sank in to Elizabeth. "We must leave for London. I will require warm clothing for the trip."

"We can stop at a blacksmith in Scotland before we reach London."

"I believe that is the least romantic proposal ever. We will be wed in my parish church."

"Am I allowed any lead in this marriage?"

"I will dutifully follow whenever you lead correctly. I am following you to the ends of the earth aren't I? But I can't believe you would wish me to follow when you are wrong."

"Fine," he sighed. "You are correct. My father and your family will wish to be there."

She raised an eyebrow, "You are being far too reasonable. I grow suspicious you might be the boggle. We should run the test again."

"My trunk is mostly packed," she told him at the end of the test. "I can leave in twenty minutes. Do you need to pack?"

"No, I'm… What about your cousin?"

"He's not coming with us."

"You know what I mean."

"Professor Saxifrage is here and will help put his notes in order. But we must leave for London. First, there's the wedding--"

"I offered the blacksmith."

"I must prepare for the wedding." She repeated. "And place the most peculiar order for wedding clothes Kestrel's will ever receive. My parents will have to be… There are the wedding articles--"

"I am marrying you because I love you, not for your dowry."

"It is wonderful that we love each other passionately, but one of us needs to be practical."

"Practical? Did you think at all about the trip we'll be making?"

"And whose fault is that? If you'd spoken earlier I might have had a chance to think before saying yes…"

"Should I become accustomed to everything being my fault?"

"Of course. Now… Where were we?"

"We are leaving for London as soon as we fetch our trunks, but first we test for the boggle again."

Elizabeth smiled, "I am happy to follow when you lead so well."

They were only partially through the test when a loud attention-getting cough sounded. "Hogwarts students should not behave in such a manner," Professor Sauberkehren warned them sternly.

The two reluctantly stepped away from each other. Elizabeth blushed as Charles took her hand. "We are no longer students," Charles reminded him. "We've graduated."

"And school is not in session," Elizabeth added. "Besides, we were testing to make certain the other was not the boggle."

"What?" the Dark Arts professor sputtered.

"Testing for the boggle," Charles assured him. "And I am quite certain this is Miss Gray."

"And he is Charles Potter," Elizabeth added. "Please apologize to everyone for our hasty departure, but we leave for London immediately."

"I'll get my trunk," Charles told her, "I'll be back in twenty minutes."

"So will I," she assured him.

The two ran for their rooms, leaving a stunned Professor Sauberkehren wondering if their boggle test could possibly be used in the fall.

--The End--

Whist required four players and thinking. Speculation and loo could have more players. Speculation required counters we'd call poker chips. But with poker an uncommon word in 1836 I'd have used the contemporary term for the counters - fish.

_Ecce homo_ - Behold the man

Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese appeared in 1850, so similarities of phrase by Charles Potter are pure coincidence rather than parody.

I'm not certain if that was Professor Sauberkehren at the end or the boggle in his form.

**Author's Final Note**: I outlined this story years ago and had ideas, without outlines, for several others - such as Hogwarts 1940. For List of Romantics I sketched what would happen to Viven, whose designs on becoming Mrs. Malfoy don't work out exactly as planned. I would like to thank Imablack for serving as canon checker. Any departures are my own choice.


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Harry Potter