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Chapter Text

Thursday September 1st, 1994

It was a dark and stormy day as the Hogwarts Express ushered them to a new school year. Horrid as the weather was, inside of the train Melissa was having a lovely time catching up with some friends.

“They used Dungeons & Dragons as part of their defence?!” Corin asked, open-mouthed yet looking gleeful. “Oh, that is genius!”

“And this is a… muggle game?” Rachel asked.

“Mhmm!” Melissa nodded. “It’s a roleplaying game where muggles pretend to be warriors, wizards, or rogues who fight villains and monsters. It’s a lot of fun for the imaginative, though I haven’t really had a chance to play before. What about you, Corin?”

“I have,” Corin nodded. “I showed my dad a copy of the Monster Manual when I was a kid to figure out which ones were real and which weren’t. You’d be surprised how many are, or are close to something that actually exists.”

“Hmm,” Eloise hummed, “no wonder they won the case.”

“It does set a tricky precedent,” Domonkos commented. “If muggles treat things from our world as fantasy, wizards may use those beliefs to skirt the Statute a lot more and risk exposure.”

“I can hear the headlines already,” Eloise joked. “Have your parents been talking about it?”

“A bit, but not really,” Domonkos answered. He then gave a snort. “If anything, my mum’s been complaining about which articles she can write. Apparently she and Rita Skeeter have been fighting over wanting to cover the same story for the last two days.”

Melissa gave a laughing huff. “Good luck to her. Skeeter’s a menace at the best of times.”

“That’s for sure!”

“Speaking of articles,” Rachel said conspiratorially, “did you all read that article about the Twins’ DMLE inventions?”

“I did,” Corin said excitedly. “At this rate they’re going to be famous.”

“And rich,” Melissa added.

Corin huffed with, “That’s a given.”

Melissa gave a teasing smile. “You regret not taking on their offer for splitting profits now?”

“And keeping both of my arms, in the process?” Corin asked dryly. “I’m feeling pretty good about it, actually.”

“Yes, yes, they’re making lots of galleons now,” Rachel waved dismissively, “I’m more interested in the research developments. How and when did they figure out that the lightsabers can cut through shield spells?!”

“I don’t think the Twins knew,” said Corin. “I mean, I know they did tests to cut through physical objects; but this is a new one.”

“They could have gotten the Department of Mysteries to look into it?” Eloise suggested.

“It’s possible, unless the Ministry has another form of research department,” said Domonkos.

Corin gave a shiver. “Can you imagine having volunteers for all of their inventions?”

Melissa raised her hand, “Speaking as someone who was Fred and George’s guinea pig; yeah, it’s not fun. I think my spine nearly broke at one point.”

“...Why?”

“Six words, Corin: Giant, body-trapping Slinky, in motion.”

“...That sounds so much more terrifying than the article made it out to be.”

“Mmhmm! And just think, other Ministries are asking for their patents, too.”

“Oh god, WHY?!”

“I’m not surprised,” said Domonkos. “People from all corners of the wizarding world came to the World Cup. Word travels fast when aurors are seen taking down terrorists with a type of magic no one has ever seen.”

“Like I said,” Melissa repeated, “at this rate, those two are going to be rich.”

When they slipped into the Slytherin table, Garrick gave a brief nod up in acknowledgement. “Meeting in the old duelling hall after the feast.”

Melissa gave him an odd look, “And ‘Hello’ to you, too.”

“What’s going on?” Domonkos asked.

“The sixth years need to have a meeting,” he answered vaguely, “and it needs to be before you go to the common room. So be there!”

“Alright, alright,” Melissa lifted her hands in mock surrender, “no need to get testy.”

Then again, a small portion of the Great Hall seemed to be feeling testy, particularly with the fourth year Slytherins. Not that she was surprised. Nott, Crabbe, Goyle… their dads made up half of the group that got arrested at the Quidditch World Cup. I mean, serves them right, though it does suck that their sons will suffer scorn as a result.

Ugh, the same will probably happen for the rest of us, too. Joy.

A short while later, the trail of first years entered the Great Hall. The poor things were drenched and shivering from the stormy weather.

Domonkos winced, “I don’t envy them.”

Jacinth huffed, “Considering they were left with Hagrid, I’m not surprised. Merlin knows what he’s got planned for us this year. What happened to that kid?” ‘That kid’ being a tiny boy wrapped up in a coat so huge that it dragged along the floor as he walked.

“Beats me,” Melissa muttered.

They all watched as the Sorting Hat began its yearly song. It sang of the qualities desired by the founders; of Gryffindor wanting bravery, Ravenclaw wanting cleverness, Hufflepuff wanting the hard-working, and “Power-hungry” Slytherin wanting the ambitious.

Melissa and Domonkos shared a look of disapproving exasperation. 

Rusalka, too, caught on to the oddness. “Did it really just single out Slytherin as “power-hungry” without even describing the other founders?”

“Yep,” they answered simultaneously.

“And so the cycle continues,” Melissa muttered with annoyance.

“On the plus side,” Adrian commented, “we’re not the only ones who caught onto that.”

They glanced about the room at his hinting. Sure enough, several people at the other tables had furrowed brows, some even muttering to each other and gesturing to the Slytherin table. At about that time, the song ended. Interestingly, the claps in the room were a mix of genuine and half-hearted, and some not even clapping at all.

Things got more interesting during the sorting itself. The first student, (Ackerley, Stewart) went to Ravenclaw, and the usual applause followed. Then Baddock, Malcolm was called to Slytherin, and the applause got louder.

At least, briefly. The applauding Slytherins had stopped in surprise when the other houses cheered for Malcolm. That… doesn’t usually happen. Like, at all. Sure, other houses give a light level of applause, but never anything like this. The Slytherins shook off their surprise, though still unsure what to make of the odd occurrence. Perhaps Baddock is just a well-known person, they guessed? …But then the cheering happened again when Emma Dobbs sorted into Slytherin. The older Slytherins were better this time at hiding their surprise, and tried to go about things as if this was completely normal. The younger ones, on the other hand, looked out to the other tables, giving bright smiles to their friends across the way.

The sight warmed Melissa’s heart. She, too, looked over to Hufflepuff, catching Stephanie’s eye. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and the smile she gave Melissa was beaming. Stephanie's mouth moved silently, the words “We did it” read like a painting of victory. Melissa nodded, her own smile stretched wide. We did it!

The sorting finished, as did the feast, with lively energy from the students. The energy only fell as Dumbledore stood to make the start-of-term announcements. The sounds of the storm served as ambience as he spoke. “So, now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention while I give out a few notices.” Which, of course, began with Mr. Filch’s list of banned items, and the forbidden forest. “It is also my painful duty to inform you that there will be a change to the inter-house quidditch tournament this year. This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year that will be taking up much of the teacher’s time and energy. But I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-”

CRASH! BANG!

At that moment, thunder rumbled and the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. There, illuminated in a flash of lightning, stood the horrible visage of Mad-Eye Moody.

Damn, that’s a hell of an entrance!

The man made his slow way over, the sound of his wooden leg echoed in the silence of the room’s shock. He reached the table, speaking briefly to Dumbledore before joining the table and beginning to eat via a pocket knife. “May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.”

No one applauded him, save Dumbledore and Hagrid, though even that ended quickly.

“As I was saying,” Dumbledore suddenly continued, “we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months. An event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“YOU’RE JOKING?” Fred called out from his seat. His outburst brought the Great Hall to laughter, breaking them out of their stupor from Moody’s dramatic entrance.

“I am not joking, Mister Weasley,” said Dumbledore. “Though, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar-” he stopped the joke at the sound of Professor McGonagall loudly clearing her throat.

What a shame, I wanted to hear it.

“Err, but maybe this is not the time, no. Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established-”

They don’t really have much in common, do they? Melissa thought. Trolls are dumb, regardless. Maybe the leprechaun tries to make a bet with fake gold? Something about drinking whiskey while the hag ‘whisks’ children away? …No, that sounds, lame. …Hmm, maybe I should pay attention to what he’s talking about?

“-and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities...” 

Yeah, but that’s not the plan this year. At least… well, hopefully things will play differently with everything we talked about? 

“...We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger…”

Will they succeed, though? Place your bets, folks!

-Actually, that’s pretty morbid. I don’t want anyone to die. Well, not if I can help it, anyways.

The students whispered excitedly at one point. A mention of galleons had Melissa realize that Dumbledore must have finished explaining the prize. Though she knew that would be followed by hisses of outrage once the age restriction is mentioned.

They did.

Dumbledore tried to assure them of the necessity of the age restriction. Something Melissa completely agreed with. …Then things turned odd.

“In an effort to foster friendly competition with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, we will also host an inter-school quidditch tournament instead of the usual inter-house tournament. An age restriction will also be applied to the Hogwarts quidditch team, fifth year and up, to allow those students wanting to play professionally a chance to be scouted by professional teams.”

…Huh. They actually listened.

Voices of dissent rose from the students. “Originally, the plan was to cancel quidditch this year. I’m sure you can all agree that this is a perfectly reasonable compromise.” That shut them up fast. “What’s more, it allows for six inter-school contests this year, rather than the usual three. The quidditch games will take place in March, April, and May- in between the second and third tasks of the Triwizard Tournament.”

Makes sense. Melissa nodded thoughtfully. Already things are changing, it seems. Good. Now let’s just see what else the Ministry has in store for us…

When Dumbledore dismissed them for the night, the sixth years were corralled and herded towards the abandoned duelling hall. Chatter was loud as they made their way, with people arguing over the unfairness of a seventeenth birthday, an age only a handful of them would reach before Halloween. People started to conspire ways to fool or convince the ‘impartial judge’ to allow them entry. Loud as they were, a few commanding shouts from Beatrice Vance and Garrick Orpington had them quieting down.

“I know you’re all worked up about the tournament,” Vance started, “believe me, I’m miffed about it, too; but we’ve got until Halloween to figure that out. This, on the other hand, needs to be figured out tonight.”

“What does?” Jason Adams asked. “What’s this even about?”

“Our NEWT classes,” she answered.

Rumbling began, but Garrick stepped in to explain. “I know you all have already considered your classes, but there’s a problem with some of the options. Three classes: Alchemy, Advanced Arithmancy, and Ancient Studies, are specialty classes that can only be taken if there’s enough interest shown for our registrations, which our Heads of Houses have set for us to complete the moment we go to our dormitories.”

The Ravenclaw prefect, Patricia Stimpson, piped in, “And some of us really, really, want to take these classes,” she jittered where she stood, “but Professor Flitwick says every class needs at least a quarter of us to sign up for those classes to run. So we need to make sure nine people are going to sign up for them, or else they’ll be cancelled!”

A handful of people muttered in annoyance at that. Most others were unfazed by the news. Juliet raised her hand as she spoke, “Well, how about we take a poll? See how many you all have already for each class?”

A quick poll showed 5 for Advanced Arithmancy, 4 for Alchemy, and 4 for Ancient Studies. Which proved the Prefects’ point.

“I’ll sign up for Ancient Studies and Arithmancy,” Eric Murley said with a shrug. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think there was a chance the classes would run, so I didn’t bother to think about them.”

“Neither did I,” Rachel added. “I’ll sign up for Advanced Arithmancy and Alchemy. I wasn’t that interested in taking Astronomy or Divination anyways.”

Their names got added to the poll, and a few other Ravenclaws followed, bringing them up to 8, 5, and 7. Looking at the numbers, Corin groaned loudly, “I suppose I can take Ancient Studies, too. Eight classes will be impossible, but I don’t want to drop any of the others.”

“Eight classes aren’t impossible,” Leonora Rosethorn huffed. “I will manage mine just fine.”

“You?” Jacinth gave a snort. “Aren’t you being shipped off to be a society wife, Rosethorn? Why even bother taking that many classes?”

“My reasons are my own, Wystan,” she said coolly.

Cyril Meakin from Hufflepuff gave Corin a friendly nod, “I’m taking eight, too. We can do a study group to make sure none of us get overwhelmed.”

Corin looked genuinely relieved by the invitation. “I’d appreciate that. Thanks!”

Cyril then looked over to the rest of the group. “Anyone else want to learn Alchemy? It’s pretty powerful stuff, and Dumbledore will teach us personally. He used to work with the Alchemist that made a Philosopher’s Stone to become immortal. I’m sure we can learn loads from him.”

A stirring of interest came from that reasoning, and soon Jacqueline, Stephanie, Victoria Cromwell, and even Vance signed up to bring the total to the needed nine.

Which left three spots left for the other two classes. Garrick was giving his Slytherins a stern look. Eventually Domonkos caved, agreeing to sign up for both Advanced Arithmancy and Ancient Studies. When Melissa, too, raised her hand for Ancient Studies, Garrick gave a double-take.

“Didn’t you say you failed History of Magic?!”

“Yeah, but it’s not a prerequisite, is it? Binns doesn’t teach it, right?”

“No,” Kenneth answered, “Professor Babbling will have to teach it.”

“See? It’s probably more magic-based than history dates, anyways. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Garrick looked distressingly unsure, but was willing to accept it since no one else showed a willingness to sign up.

“While we’re discussing History,” Alex Sykes narrowed his eyes, “do we have enough people for History of Magic?”

An awkward pause fell on them, followed by a poll that revealed only 7 sign-ups. Once again, Garrick looked to the Slytherins. “How many of you failed History?”

Sheepishly, Melissa and Cassius raised their hands. Which meant Jacinth and Adrian became a source of intense focus from Garrick. “You two, sign up for the class.” As they started to protest, Garrick bulldozed through them, “I don’t care that you don’t like the class. You’re taking less NEWTs than the rest of us. Just sit there, be on the roll, and I’ll give you notes to pass the exam this year. Deal?”

The boys looked to the others for help, but there was enough fear of Garrick’s intensity that none were willing to stand up for the boy. Neither were there teens from other houses willing to offer taking a spot, instead.

“...Alright.”

“Ugh, fine!”

“Finally,” Vance groaned under her breath. “So-! Everyone knows what they’re signing up for?” At their nods, she clapped her hands once. “Okay, in that case, this meeting’s over. Class registration is going to happen once we go to the dormitories. Double-check each other’s forms to make sure the numbers add up right. Goodnight, everyone. See you all tomorrow!”

Later that night, the first staff meeting of the term took place. Discussion mainly focused on the Triwizard Tournament and Alastor’s plans for his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. When the topic eventually turned to the NEWT students, Filius gave the others an amused smile. “Before we arrange the schedule, we need to check the registration numbers. I think we’ll find them to be interesting this year.”

Intrigued, Septima did a quick spell with the stack of sign-ups to add up the total number of students per class. When the results came in, all of the returning teachers gave a blink of surprise.

“I must say, that is most unexpected,” Minerva said softly.

Pomona gave Filius an intrigued look. “Did you know about this?”

“A few of the students made mention that their cohort held a short meeting after the feast,” he answered. “I, for one, am delighted to see how dedicated they are to their education.”

Pomona nodded with a warm smile on her face, “The way that year-group works together is always wonderful to see.”

Severus huffed, “When they're not making inane crafts, at any rate.”

While impressed, Bathsheda gave a strained smile. “Sweet as this is, it does mean we now have three extra classes to teach for the next two years. Are you up to the task, Headmaster?”

Albus looked ponderous for a moment, before the twinkle returned to his eye. “I admit that we have much work to do for the Triwizard Tournament this year. However, I believe Filius is right. We should foster the children's desire to learn, as well as their inter-house cooperation. I will send word to Igor and Maxime of the changes, in case any of their students wish to join these classes while they’re here. Who knows, perhaps these efforts will encourage the younger cohorts to continue this trend.”

The other staff members nodded in agreement, bolstered by the potential of such a future, and spent the rest of the meeting planning the structure of the new year.

Chapter Text

Friday September 2nd, 1994

The next morning the girls readied for their first day of classes. Emerging from the loo, Amy popped over to Rusalka, light on her step, “Hey, Ru, you’ve got family at Durmstrang, right? Are any of them coming for the tournament?”

“If any of them, I suppose my cousin, Brodny, might come. He’s the only one of age.” Rusalka thought for a moment, “Though odds are he’d only come for the quidditch tournament.”

“But you know Russian, right? Can you teach me some before they come?”

Rusalka looked at her flatly, “You want me to teach you an entire language in two months?”

“Well- not an entire language. Just some phrases and stuff. You know, so that they know I’m being friendly.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine without knowing Russian, Amy.”

From her own bedside, Melissa gave a soundless chuckle at the conversation. She went over to her trunk, switching the settings of the expansion charm to get at her leisure set. She pulled out her runic keyboard, moved the one-man-band aside, and bent waist-deep into the trunk to find her books. It took a second, but she found the two she was looking for. Pulling out of the trunk, she turned over to the debating witches and shouted, “Hey, Ames, think fast!”

The books flung in Amy’s direction, and she jumped to catch one above her head and grabbed the second before it could hit her torso. Looking at the covers, she muttered quizzically, “A Beginner’s Guide to Russian? English to Russian dictionary? When did you get these?!”

“A while back,” Melissa waved her hand vaguely. She grabbed the keyboard to stuff back into the trunk, ignoring the accusatory look Rusalka was flashing her.

“Have you seriously known about this tournament the whole time?”

“Time is a matter of perspective-”

“You know what I mean, Melissa! I bet you’ve already written down how this whole tournament is going to play out, haven’t you?!”

“Oh, hell no,” Melissa scoffed. “I’ve seen some flashes of stuff I think is about it; but the random group of exchange students at our table was what gave me a hint about the tournament. Also a really tall French woman dancing with Hagrid. That’s gotta be something, right?”

That visual was enough to throw off the other girls. There were mutterings of agreement, plus Amy giving thanks for the books. Melissa even wrangled Rusalka into correcting her accent prior to Halloween, so that was a plus for an entertaining start of the morning!

“Oh sweet merciful mother of magic!” Jacinth shouted, staring wide-eyed at his timetable. “I have three mornings off! I don’t have anything today until after lunch!”

“Same here,” Cassius grinned. “I don’t even have class on Tuesday!”

The boys high-fived at the news. Watching them, Domonkos huffed under his breath, “No surprise when you fail so many OWLs you can only sign up for a few classes.”

Melissa giggled quietly at his comment. “It’s pretty sweet, though. The only class I have first-thing is Potions on Thursday. It’ll be nice to sleep-in, or have more time to pull an all-nighter, depending on the night.” She peered over to Dom’s timetable. “Tuesday evenings and Wednesday mornings off? Very nice!”

Across from them, they heard Jacqueline ask quietly, “Adrian? Are you alright?”

The rest looked up to see Adrian in a literal jaw-drop as he stared at his timetable. “I…” He started slowly. “I don’t… I only have three days of classes.”

“WHAT?!” Jacinth hopped out of his seat to look over Adrian’s shoulder. On confirming the claim, he rapped at Adrian’s shoulder and demanded, “How did you pull that off? How many classes did you sign up for?!”

“Five.”

“So did I! How did you get away with only three days of class?!”

That’s what they were all wondering! Situated between their seats, Rusalka grabbed Jacinth’s timetable and made a comparison. “He has a full day on Monday, and he didn’t sign up for Divination or Transfiguration.”

Jacinth let out an airy breath, “Merlin, Adrian, you’re a lucky bastard.” With another friendly knock on Adrian’s shoulder, Jacinth went back to his seat.

Continuing her observations, Rusalka commented, “Jace, you’re not taking Defence? You told me you were going to sign up.”

“I was,” Jacinth glowered, stabbing at a sausage, “but I won’t be caught dead there with old Mad-Eye teaching the class. I’ve heard enough stories growing up about what happened to my Aunt Ruby; I don’t need some lunatic giving a detailed, personal account of how she died.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group. They all knew what he was implying. Certainly they had heard stories last night from the other Slytherins, along with an added nervousness from the children whose parents were arrested this summer at the Quidditch World Cup, but it was another thing to realize how close an (antagonist) connection one of their own had to the man. 

Clearly her throat awkwardly, Amy changed the subject, “Speaking of schedules, did the plan work? Did you all get the special classes?”

Garrick nodded, answering, “We have both Advanced Arithmancy and Ancient Studies this morning.”

“And I have Alchemy listed for Wednesday mornings,” Jacqueline added.

Amy whistled at that. “Lessons with the Headmaster. Feel ready for it?”

Jacqueline gave a nervous smile, “I’m sure it will be alright. My parents will be impressed when I send them the news.”

Rusalka gave her a sardonic smile, “I have to be honest, a part of me regrets not signing up for it, too, but I already signed up for seven classes and don’t want to drop any of them.”

“You don’t have to drop them,” Domonkos noted. “You can take eight classes, like Corin, Rosethorn, and Meakin.”

“That sounds exhausting,” Jacinth said offhandedly, still upset by the earlier conversation. “We already signed up for our classes, anyway.”

“But it’s not until Wednesday, right?” Melissa asked. When Jacqueline nodded, she continued, “It’s not like you’ve missed anything. That’s more than enough time to reconsider and sign up.”

“I suppose…”

“It’s still eight classes though,” Jacinth commented. “Come on, Ru, you don’t want to work yourself to death over some special class, do you?”

Rusalka looked torn at the varying points. Seeing her distress, Jacqueline commented, “You should ask Professor Snape. He can give you a realistic perspective on whether or not you should sign up. He’s seen what other NEWT students have gone through first hand, right?”

Rusalka gave a tired sigh. “That’s a good point. …Alright, I’ll ask him tonight.”

The others gave encouraging comments at this decision. Then, on finishing their breakfasts, everyone (sans Adrian) readied themselves for their first classes of the day.

Melissa arrived early to Ancient Studies, along with Kenneth, Corin, and Terry Strickland- the only members of their nonet to not be sitting in Advanced Arithmancy at the moment. As they took their seats, a metaphorical lightbulb went off for Terry.

“Hold on a second. Bennett, didn’t you and Cedric practically win that defence contest last year?”

“Yeah?”

“Then why are you here instead of at DADA? Did you flub the exam or something?”

“No,” Melissa made an effort to sound childish, “but just because I’m good at defence magic doesn’t mean I want to do it for the rest of my life. NEWTs are all about what we want to do when we grow up. I’d rather focus on that.”

“...And you’re taking Ancient Studies because…?”

Kenneth gave a snort, “You clearly don’t know what Orpington can be like if he thinks someone’s in his way.”

“What he said,” Melissa nodded. “Besides, I can read Ancient Greek decently, so I figure this class won’t be so bad.”

The boys were baffled by the casual statement, though Corin took the lead as he asked, “Since when can you read Ancient Greek?!”

Her answer came with a long cringe, “Uhh… that demon from a couple years ago needed to learn Ancient Greek to do the ritual he was planning to get his own body. Turns out anything he read while possessing me stayed in my brain anyways. Which, while weird, has made going to Greek restaurants kind of hilarious. So… silver linings, I guess?”

The three boys stared at her wide-eyed as the answer sank in. The following awkwardness was, thankfully, short-lived as Professor Babbling arrived.

“Ah, you’re here, already. You certainly are eager for this class.”

Nervous chuckles followed that statement, blending into Melissa’s bizarre declarations. The bell rang soon after, releasing Garrick, Domonkos, Patricia Stimpson, Eric Murley, and Kevin Sterndale from their first NEWT elective and bringing them to their second.

“Good morning, class, and welcome to Ancient Studies,” Professor Babbling began. “I have to admit, it’s been a few years since this class has run, so you will have to forgive me for any rustiness on my part.”

Rustiness is part of the deal with ancient studies, Melissa joked to herself.

“In this class we will discuss ancient magical societies and their methods of practicing magic. Some of these societies have already been touched upon in Ancient Runes; however, there is much more to know about these societies that we, as modern Magicals, can learn from. This year we will focus on the major civilizations relevant to our own history: Mesopotamia, Egypt, Nubia, Greece, Rome, Germania, and Briton. Then next year we will expand into the magical civilizations in Persia, Judea, Arabia, India, China, Peru, and Mesoamerica.

“As you can see, we have a lot to cover for the next two years, and we only have one lesson per week to get all we need done. As such, I encourage you to do the readings in these textbooks ahead of class.” She gestured to a stack of dusty, used textbooks for their benefit. “I also have a syllabus for the class so that you can manage your time effectively.”

The books and pages were passed around for the small class. Professor Babbling allowed them time to read through the syllabus, which Melissa took with interest. The professor certainly wasn’t kidding. They effectively had a month per civilization, which wasn’t much when you consider that they have a single period a week in this class. Melissa read over the breakdown, finding her brain twinging on a word mentioned under the Ancient Greece lessons. She stared at it in confusion, until the professor called their attention away from the syllabus and got them started on the magical society of Mesopotamia.

When the bell rang, eight of the students left straight away for lunch. Melissa, on the other hand, went over to the front desk.

“Professor Babbling, about the syllabus for the class, I was wondering about this part.” She pointed at a segment in January, at a word written in Ancient Greek. “I’m a little confused about the meaning of this word. I know it translates to casting spells, but it also sounds like it’s about singing songs. That doesn’t really make sense, does it?”

“Of course it does,” Professor Babbling stated. “It’s no different than cantare and incantare, or in English, to chant or enchant.”

Melissa blinked. “I don’t follow?”

“These words,” the professor said slowly, “are similar because their roots are the same. The Ancient Greeks used songs to cast their magic; so much so that to sing a song or to cast a spell were considered one and the same. The same can be said for the galdr magics of the Germanic cultures.”

Eyes wide, Melissa absorbed that information with shocking delight. Though another thought followed, “So any song they sang could cast a spell? How does that work? Wouldn’t that mean kids would do accidental magic every time they sang?!”

The professor chuckled, “There’s far more to it than that, though you can simply read ahead and find the answer yourself, after you finish reading up on chapters 1 & 2.”

“...Right,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “I’ll go do that. Thanks, professor!”

Melissa caught up with her classmates as they waited for the stairs, practically leaping onto Garrick as she wrapped him into a hug. “Garrick, you are a GODSEND!”

“What?!” The boy stumbled for his footing. “What’s all this about?!”

“This class,” she grinned, “is going to be AMAZING!”

Sunday September 4th, 1994

Harry’s fourth year at Hogwarts has come with a rough start.

He’s been banned from quidditch. BANNED! FROM QUIDDITCH!

-Okay, maybe not banned banned, like for life, but still! No one under fifth year can try out for the Hogwarts Quidditch Team?! That’s just unfair!

At least Draco, Megan, and Oliver were around to mourn over the loss. Hell, even Ron and his little sister were pouting over the trials. They all watched as Cedric and Cho Chang easily claimed the Seeker and reserve spots. (“They wouldn’t have stood a chance against us,” Draco muttered, and Harry didn’t disagree.) Miles Bletchley and Juliet McCormack got the Keeper and Reserve Keeper spots. The beater roles went unquestioningly to Fred and George Weasley, with reserves going to Duncan Inglebee and Peregrine Derrick. Though the Chasers were a mixed bag, with Roger Davies, Adrian Pucey, and Angelina Johnson taking the roles.

“It should have gone to Montague,” Draco insisted. “He’s the Slytherin Captain.”

“They probably prefer to have someone who won’t do a million fouls on the pitch against the other schools,” Megan teased, much to Draco’s annoyance. (Especially since she isn’t wrong.)

Graham Montague did end up on the reserves, though, along with Cassius Warrington and Alicia Spinnet. No more Hufflepuffs, alas, but even Harry and Megan could concede that their team isn’t a very strong one.

“Hopefully next year the scouts will see what the four of us can do,” Harry groaned.

To that, they all wholeheartedly agreed.

The previous evening, Melissa had spread word to those “in the know” about a special meeting happening today. Those special people agreed, congregating in the music room at 1 o’clock sharp. Several already had vinyls at the ready.

“Now I get why you wanted a big group!” Annabel Entwhistle exclaimed. “We’re making VATIC even bigger this year for the other schools, right?”

“Ha! Close, but no.” She closed the door to the music room, spelling the door to ensure it remained soundproof. With a clap of her hands, she brought everyone at attention. “So, like Dumbledore made clear, the Triwizard Tournament is a pretty exclusive event. Three kids, three schools, three tasks, three quidditch games - there’s not much for the rest of us to get involved with.” Several nods followed that pronouncement. “There is, however, one major exception. During our winter break the school’s hosting the Yule Ball, a dance party!”

Excitement broke out among the crowd.

“That one- HOLD IT- that one will also have an age restriction. I think it’s going to be third or fourth years and older,” shouts of protest rang through the room, “UNLESS-! Un-less…” she waited as the shouts died down, “a younger student is someone’s date to the Ball. So, if any younger kids here want to take part in my plan, you’ll have to team up with someone older to pretend to be their date. For those that don’t want to take part in the Yule Ball, there’s another prong to the plan you can join in on earlier.”

“What plan?” Ben McEwen asked. “You haven’t actually said what it is, yet.”

“Ah. Right.” Melissa’s smile grew mischievous, even rubbing her hands in anticipation. “Here’s what I’m thinking…”

Tuesday September 6th, 1994

In the afternoon Melissa entered the class for their first potions lab of the year. She looked around to claim a seat, only to double-take at an unexpected double-sight. “George? Fred? You’re taking Potions, too?”

“Of course,” they said. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“It’s just… We’re also taking Charms and Runes together. I’m surprised we’re taking all the same classes.”

“Not really,” they replied. Fred turned to George, “We didn’t see her in Transfiguration or Herbology, did we?”

“Can’t say we did.”

“Wait,” an oddness flickered in her mind, “how many classes are you taking?”

“Seven,” they answered.

“Seven?” That isn’t right, is it? “That’s more than I’m taking.”

“She can count,” Fred said teasingly, “how about that?”

Melissa snorted, “You berk, that’s not what I meant.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I’ll talk to you boys later.”

She looked around the room to find a seat. Garrick and Leonora Rosethorn were sitting together, Amy was over with Rusalka, and Jacqueline was over with Lucy Yarbough. In her grazing, Corin spotted her and waved her over to his seat. “Hey, Crazy-Eight. How are you surviving so far?”

“So far, so good,” he answered. “I’m taking advantage of the free periods before things actually go crazy. Also reading up on arithmancy while I can.”

“Arithmancy? You don’t take that class.”

“I know,” he said, “but I figure alchemy will use a bunch of arithmancy, so I want to make sure I understand the basics of it before class tomorrow.”

Victoria Cromwell’s voice piped in, “Wait, what?! We have to know arithmancy to do alchemy?!”

“Not totally sure, but that’s what I’m thinking,”

“Well that’s just bloody brilliant!” Cromwell groaned.

From her side, Rusalka called out, “Melissa, you can lend me your textbook, right? I gave you my divination books last year.”

“Sure, no problem!”

Corin called out to both of his future alchemy mates, “Cram session after class?”

The girls nodded in agreement. Then Vance gestured to all three of them, “I can help you out. I think I know which parts will be the most relevant to the class.”

Corin gave an exaggerated kiss in the air, “You’re a beautiful witch, Vance! Thank you!”

“If you are done flirting,” the air froze at Snape’s voice, entering from the back of the classroom. He stalked forward to the front of the class. With a quick turn, he looked down at them all with narrowed eyes. “You are here,” he said slowly, “because you are of the exceptional few to prove any ability with the art of potion making.” He eyed Corin and Melissa’s table with distaste. “Even if some of you lack the sensibility and sophistication needed for the art.”

Corin audibly gulped. Melissa, on the other hand, politely held back an amused smirk. This class is going to be …interesting.

Saturday September 10th, 1994

It was a rare event for Melissa to enter the Music Room on a Saturday morning, but needs must when Chucklebunny plotting is involved. She entered the room, finding several members of the Frog Choir already in attendance for their club meeting. She was spotted by Kenneth, who walked over to her with Jason and Lucy in tow.

“Hey, Mel! What brings you here? Need any help for the auditions tomorrow?”

“Nope. I only need audition help from current members in VATIC.”

The two chuckled at her good natured teasing. At his side, Lucy’s eyes widened, “That’s right! You’re the only one left from our year, right?”

“Mhmm. Like a grouchy old captain too stubborn to retire,” Melissa answered. “I might drop out next year. Who knows. Depends on how this year goes, I suppose.”

“So what’s this about, then?” Kenneth asked.

Melissa looked around him rather than at him, “I was hoping to talk to Professor Flitwick. Is he here?”

Flitwick’s voice came from behind, “I certainly am, now.”

Melissa jumped in surprise, but switched fast into a smile, “Good morning, Professor.”

“Good morning to you, too, Miss Bennett. I can answer any question you have for class if it’s a brief one. We will be starting soon.”

“Well, luckily, I actually have a question about the Frog Choir.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking… Do you have anything planned for when the other schools come? Maybe something to celebrate the Champion Selection or a yuletide song for Christmas?”

A quirk of his lips showed that the professor understood her hint. “Why, yes, for this year’s Halloween Feast I’ve looked into French and Scandinavian songs our guests may enjoy, as well as some yuletide songs for before Christmas Break.”

“Nice!” Melissa smiled. “In that case, I was wondering if we can also do a Hogwarts-specific song for Halloween. I mean other than the official school song.” Melissa grimaced. “It’s not exactly school-unifying for everyone to be singing in a different tune, fun as that usually is.” The other four gave small chuckles of understanding. “It’d be nice to give a united front for the other schools; especially with a song that also makes us sound tough for the competition.”

“It sounds to me like you already have such a song in mind.”

“I do!” She clasped her hands together. “A song of my own creation. Well, mine and Merton Grave’s, that is; and it’s already on the wireless so others can join in as well.” Melissa went to fish out some sheet music from her satchel.

Unbeknownst to her, Jason and Lucy gave each other excited looks. “You think it’s-?”

“It’s got to be!”

“Hey, don’t spoil it, guys!” Melissa playfully chastised, pulling out the pages for Professor Flitwick. “Here we are!”

The choirmaster took the pages from her, reading the title with interest, “The Honey Badger Hymn, hmm?” He gave a thoughtful nod, “It’s certainly a Hogwarts-based song, though singularly for one house.”

“True, but it is styled like a Viking mead song. It would be so cool to have a Viking song in the middle of a feast! Am I right?!”

Jason shared her enthusiasm with a grin, “I’m up for that!”

“It’s a pretty good strategy,” Kenneth added. “It’s something we can all get behind, even if our champion’s from a different house.”

“Even better if they’re from Hufflepuff,” Lucy said with a giggle. “That would be so much fun!”

Flitwick hummed thoughtfully, nodding with each comment. “I can certainly see the value of that. May I take a look at what you have written?” He took the rest of the sheet music, vocals and instrumentation alike. “You even have these broken down by voice types! My, you certainly continue to impress, Miss Bennett. Five points to Slytherin for your diligence!”

“Thank you, Professor!” Melissa grinned. “I can’t wait to hear you all sing it in person.”

Sunday September 11th, 1994

Astoria Greengrass entered the VATIC meeting room, closing the door behind her with a perplexed expression. “Is it my imagination or are there a lot more musicians here than last year?”

“That makes sense,” Annabel nodded thoughtfully, “We’re looking for musicians from two Houses instead of one this year.”

“Ken and Merton also gave notices last year that they won’t be coming back,” Dean supplied. “So that gave people a whole summer to prepare.”

Stephen Cornfoot blinked. “Huh. That was smart of them.”

“It’s brilliant!” Parvati corrected. “It’s why we didn’t bother waiting a month to have the auditions. We can start everything straight away! This year is going to be amazing!”

Melissa gave a small chuckle at her exuberance, “I’m looking forward to it.”

The musicians came in one by one. Unlike last year, most actually had songs prepared for the audition. It hadn’t been planned, but the group was able to get into the flow of speech, questions, and music quick enough to make it feel like it had been planned. By the end of the auditions, Melissa almost felt guilty for the ones that hadn’t brought instruments, as they ended up falling out of favour amongst the current members. Though, as a silver lining, that did make it easier to narrow down the selections.

Among the Hufflepuffs, the person that stood out the most was the second year boy, Ben McEwen. It seems their assignment to explore pop culture over the summer had led Ben to trying out multiple songs and styles on the guitar more than for the actual plan. Can’t say she’d blame him, as he knocked it out of the park!

For the Gryffindors, the voting was a surprise.

“You,” Tracey looked astonished at Harry, “want Jamie Reynolds?”

“Yeah?” Harry said. “With a guitarist and a lyrist, plus Melly on the drums, we can use someone that plays bass. They’ll sound like a real band.”

Tracey gave an incredulous shake of her head. “Okay, sure, but Jamie Reynolds?”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

Luna gave a quick answer. “I think she’s just surprised that you’re fine with a boy named James joining The Valentine Teamsters for Inter-House Cooperation.”

Byron blinked. “The what?”

The older students all gave a snort. Dean laughed into a groan as he said, “I forgot about that.”

“How can you forget?!” Melissa asked in mock surprise. “You’re the co-president!”

“It’s a dumb name!”

“It’s a perfect name!” Melissa grinned. “Even better because the school is none the wiser!”

“Back to the subject,” Tracey said loudly, “you’re really fine with Reynolds, Potter?”

Harry gave an odd face. “I am. It’s not that big of a deal. …What? I’ve grown up!”

“Right. Whatever,” she said dismissively. “What about the rest of you?”

The votes were mixed. That said, with arguments about music structure, the group eventually conceded to Harry’s point. Which ultimately meant Melissa would be back with the drums. Joy.

“Alright, that settles it,” Tracey said.

“I’ll go let the auditioners know,” Dean volunteered. “Then we’ll have our first meeting on the 25th. It was great seeing you guys! See you all at the next meeting!”

On the morning of September 16th, both Harry and Draco received tidings of the natal variety.

Bella had her kid the other day. Sirius wrote. She named it Phoenix, can you believe it? I’m surprised she didn’t name it Augurey, seeing as the tiny thing was so loud it nearly drowned out the thunder outside. Might as well be bad news anyways, with her having a kid loose. That said, Narcissa seems happy to have another baby. Not like she’d have had another of her own, but at least Andy’s offered to help raise the brat, so hopefully things won’t be that bad.

Speaking of babies. Well, I’d rather wait until you’re home for Christmas, but I don’t think this can wait. While we were at St Mungo's we did a small check and it turns out Chiara’s pregnant.

“WHAT?!”

Shocking, right? I know I was! Seems we weren’t too careful over the summer. Either that or muggle contraceptive pills don’t work against wizards. Either way, part of me is panicking over this. I mean, me, a dad? I know what you and I have is special, and that will never change; but being a father to a baby? I can’t even imagine that. I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’m going to have lunch with Remus tomorrow. He’s a dad, now, so hopefully he’ll be able to give me advice on this whole thing. I suppose Andy and Cissy can help too. Here’s hoping! Chiara’s also calling up Rosa for help. Seems there are more people with babies these days than I realized. I suppose that’s good. That way we can all panic together. Ha! It’s only too bad that Hope’s older than Phoenix and the future little one. Ugh, I just realized that my kid and Bella’s are going to be in the same year together. That’s a nightmare waiting to happen. Maybe I can get revenge and train Phoenix to be a proper Gryffindor? That would be hilarious!

All the best, pup. I’ll see you at Christmas!

Sirius

Harry lowered the letter, blinking in shock. Sirius is having a baby? The shock and subsequent mental questions followed him into History of Magic, not that Professor Binns would ever notice. It also followed him into Charms, breaking only somewhat as his eyes met with Draco’s. Something must have been obvious in his expression as Draco beckoned him to a neighbouring seat and whispered to him quietly.

“You heard about the baby?”

“Yeah,” a slight stutter in his mind jerked him from thoughts about his and Sirius’s life. “Uhh, congratulations, I guess? How are you handling all this stuff with your aunt?”

“I don’t know…” A grimace moved into an awkward smile, “I suppose… I’ve always wanted a little brother. I know he’s my cousin, but maybe it won’t feel that way once I get to spend time with him. She doesn’t show it, but Mother’s been ecstatic since Aunt Bella asked her to look after the baby. She already had the nursery ready before we left for Hogwarts. It seemed unnecessary at the time; but, considering the baby’s here early, she clearly made the right choice. Heh, she probably would have moved him in right on Wednesday night if the healers hadn’t insisted on checking him over.”

Harry gave a soft hum. They really lucked out with Draco’s mum being able to help out. He certainly couldn’t imagine Arcturus setting up a nursery and looking after a baby!

“Oh!” he huffed under his breath as another thought struck him. “We probably have to move to Grimmauld Place full time.”

“Grimmauld Place? Why?”

“Sirius and Chiara will need a nursery, too,” he answered. “There’s no way they’ll be comfortable having all four of us at the flat once the baby’s born.”

Draco looked at him oddly, then his eyes blew wide, “THEY’RE EXPECTING?”

Harry jumped in his seat, and others nearby looked over at Draco’s sudden shout. Harry ducked reflexively and quietly said, “Wait, you didn’t know?”

“No!” he answered in an equally hushed tone, “Mother only wrote to announce Phoenix’s birth and Aunt Bella returning to Azkaban. When did all this happen?!”

“Same day, actually.”

“Merlin!” Draco shook his head at the news. “As if they aren’t busy enough. Oh, Circe, can you imagine Sirius with a baby?!”

Harry gave a laugh, “I think you’re imagining it with as much shock as Sirius right now. Who knows, maybe they’ll just foist baby-sitting duty on the two of us when we’re back over summer.”

“What, like doing playdates?” Draco rolled his eyes, “I can see it now. Two drooling babies and us sitting there, bored out of our minds.”

“But we can be the first ones to teach them how to fly.”

Draco nodded thoughtfully, “True. Not until they’re older though.”

“Of course.”

Draco tilted back into his seat, looking contently pensive. “Maybe this will be good for us. Being older brother’s, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Harry gave a small smile at the thought. Being an older brother. “Maybe it will be.”

Song Magic, as Melissa learned over the month, was more complicated than simply strumming a spell into action. An instrument of magic is, in many ways, like a wand or an amulet. It has to be made with magical materials, and cannot be used by children until their magic is mature enough to handle it. On top of that, the magic they can do is quite extensive: healing, destruction, changing moods, changing the weather, and more was possible. That said, other cultures guard their ancient secrets, and a book of cumulative world cultures certainly doesn’t provide enough to go on. If she wants to learn more, Melissa will have to look elsewhere…

Friday September 23rd, 1994

“Professor Babbling,” Melissa approached her after class, “I took your advice and read into the chapters on Germania and Ancient Greece.” She gave a cheery smile, “They gave good explanations on the foundation of song magic, but I was wondering if I could read more into them at the library?”

Melissa turned a small sheet of parchment over to Professor Babbling, who read over the three titles with guarded consideration. “These books are in the Restricted Section.”

“I know, but I figure that’s because they’re old and rare, right? I’ll be careful with them, I just want to learn more about how music and magic work together.”

The professor said nothing for a long time. Her expression barely wavered as she considered the request. “I will sign off on these; however, considering your past experiences I will inform your Head of house and the Headmaster that you will be working on subjects in the Restricted Section. Is that understood?”

“Sure?” Melissa gave an odd face. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Good.” The professor signed the parchment and handed it back to her. “Be sure to keep only to these books. Madam Pince keeps a close watch on which books are removed from the library.”

“Of course, not a problem, Professor.” Melissa gave a swift nod and walked out of the room. Not that I need any other books, anyways.

Ljóðaháttr og Galdralag

Or, in English, Poetry and Magic Song

The book was written entirely in Old Norse. That said, Melissa has learned enough from Ancient Runes to parse some meaning from the book. It looked to be a collection of ancient spells, all written in stanzas to be sung, which is AWESOME!

It was also strange… from the book’s forward, it seemed to Melissa that Germanic (including Norse) witches all used music and poetry for their spells. Yet that subject wasn’t covered in Ancient Runes. They always did straight translations instead. …Why is that?

Melissa eventually pulled away from that book to check out the next one.

Ξόρκια της Αρχαίας Ελλάδας

Incantations of Ancient Greece

The book discussed the formation of spells. How the architecture of a song’s rhythm, chord progression, and more, can shape the power and potency of a spell. It also had chapters dedicated to verbal components of a spell, which meant she now had two possible languages to learn singing-based spells from; a fascinating concept even without having a fluent grasp of the languages. Though, clearly, she will need to practise them using those books hidden in the Chamber of Secrets. Perhaps they can provide more possibilities for her?

Να Οἰκοδομέω Ξόρκι

To Build a Spell

Of the three books she had looked into, this was the one she wanted to read the most. To build a spell. To build music! She poured over the book with deep interest. This book is the holy grail of instrument making! As the history book hinted, the instruments need to be magically created, and the possibilities were endless: magical woods, pure metals, crystals, magical creature body parts, runic etchings, specialised potions, and more! Combine that with careful carving and incantations, it was clear that magical instruments were incredibly difficult to make!

Melissa raised her head from the book, thinking hard about the instruments sold in magical music shops. Most were silly or self-playing things; but she has seen others. Strange ideas of kelpie-hide drums, harps made of veela hair, and a harpsichord with copper strings and a body of emerald. Perhaps it wasn’t that they’re strange, they’re simply using an old form of magic.

…Which explains why the ones at Maestro’s Music Shop are SO BLOODY EXPENSIVE!

But she digressed.

Maybe I can make some of my own? That thought made her pause. She’s never considered becoming a luthier or something like that. After all, there’s no riches in being an instrument maker, is there? Then again, magical musical instruments could be worth something, right? …Then again, the production process itself is stupidly expensive. How does someone go about that? Magical woods and animals… she would probably be in competition with Ollivander for those goods. The potions she can maybe swipe ingredients from in the dungeons. Crystals and metals… that might not be a bad idea. It’s only too bad she sold all that stuff with Mal. Not like she has piles of gold or precious gems lying around.

…Then again, she thought slowly, I do have an instrument of pure gold, don’t I?

She smiled greedily at the thought.

…When Christmas comes, it’s time I take that flute out for a jive!

Chapter Text

September 25th, 1994

“Welcome to the first full VATIC meeting of the year!” Dean greeted the group. He went through an opening spiel about the purpose and goals of VATIC, introduced each member of the group for the newbies’ sake, and then opened up the floor for ideas.

Astoria raised one hand, with another holding a sheet of parchment. “Annabel and I have been doing some research,” she gestured to the other girl, “of Valentine’s Day traditions in other countries. Since we will be having students from other schools, we want to include ideas that the foreign students will find familiar.” She glanced down at her notes. “France is very much the centre of original Valentine’s Day traditions. Red roses, romantic dinners, picnics in magical forests, and such. They don’t do celebrations with children, as we’ve done, but it’s a good start. As for Russia and the Scandinavian countries, we’ve discovered that Valentine’s Day is more of a new holiday for them, so they’re still trying out different ideas. That said, we found a couple nice ones. In Denmark they give presses of snowdrop flowers and write silly or romantic poems that are left unsigned, so the receiver has to guess who sent the poem; and in Finland they have a friendship day instead of a Valentine’s day.”

“The poems are a great idea,” Byron commented.

“True, but we already did that,” Melly added.

“We did?” Stephen asked. “When?”

It took half a moment for Melly to realize her error, “Oh, in my second year. We wrote poems to each student on the backs of paper butterflies and had them fly to each person.”

Stephen considered that for a moment, “So only the NEWT students would remember that.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“If we want to make things traditional,” Luna said, “we can give everyone five bay leaves to put on their pillow, or carve spoons from wood as gifts.”

Everyone politely ignored the suggestion.

“Back to the international idea,” Parvati said loudly, “we can do a combination of things. Like the flower presses with snowdrops and red roses.”

“Red roses have a specifically romantic connotation, though,” Astoria said, “and the French do prefer only celebrating as adults.”

“Still better than the Bulgarian idea,” Annabel said teasingly, “they all celebrate with wine.”

“Okay, but why even bother with what the other schools might like?” Byron asked. “If you ask me, we shouldn’t even include them in all this. That would be way too much work, and it’s not like they’re part of our school, right?”

A pause fell over the group. Confused exchanges were shared all around. Harry was the first to speak, “But that’s the point of us, isn’t it? We don’t exclude others from the holiday.”

“Exactly,” Melly nodded. She gave an amused smile and nodded to the fourth years. “Hell, these guys tried to do that a couple years ago, but they all realized how much of a problem that would have been, right guys?”

“They put you in the infirmary,” Dean said pointedly.

“And…” Melly made a silent gesture at the teenagers. Harry figured it said,  Are you forgetting what happened to them with Cipher? “That was taken care of with Serpageddon,” she answered, instead. “Valentine’s Day is Valentine’s Day. VATIC makes no exceptions.”

Byron scoffed, “Even for Death Eater scum?” The remark garnered shocked expressions. “What? Everyone knows that Durmstrang students study the dark arts, and their Headmaster is a Death Eater. The only reason he’s not in prison is because he’s also a coward who outed other members to the Wizengamot.”

“You…” Melly floundered for words, “How have you survived a full year in Slytherin? Do you not know who all is in our House?”

“You mean with those kids whose dads got arrested this summer?” Byron rolled his eyes. “I hardly associate myself with junior Death Eaters, and they’re in Tracey’s year, anyways.”

“Which I’d rather you not talk about here or ever,” Tracey snapped. “Let’s get back on track, starting with a quick vote about our receivers. Do we stick with Hogwarts students and staff, or do we also include the foreigners coming for the tournament?”

Byron and Jamie voted for Hogwarts, Ben and Dean abstained, and the rest voted to include the incoming students and staff; sweeping an easy victory for the latter group.

Now all that was left was to find a compromise between an avalanche of ideas…

Friday October 14th, 1994

During an unseasonably warm afternoon, Melly stole Harry away for a hangout after classes. They flew across the lake, only stopping once they got to a field of late-blooming wildflowers. On seeing her produce a picnic basket full of his favourite treats, Harry couldn’t help but laugh, “What, is it my birthday?”

“Can’t a girl spoil her little brother?” She said teasingly.

“Right, because how often does that happen?” Harry fired back.

“Ah, touché. Well consider this me righting a great wrong, then,” she made a comical face, eliciting another laugh out of him. “Or… we could bring Malfoy here and claim we’re celebrating his cousin’s first month?”

It took a moment before Harry caught on to her meaning. “How do you even know Phoenix is one month old today?”

She gave a very exaggerated deadpan before answering, “Like Malfoy hasn’t shown you that photo collection he got from his mum at lunch?”

With a snort, he answered, “Yeah, fair. Professor Snape had to practically order him to put them away when class started.”

“Well he had no holdbacks during lunch, trust me.” She gave a headshake, despite a look of obvious amusement. “He’s a cute baby, don’t get me wrong, but Malfoy needs to be more careful as a Slytherin about cooing over babies in public.”

“Ah, like you were careful this summer with Luca Salvatore?”

She gave him a side-eye. “...No comment.”

Harry laughed, ribbing Melly over her hypocrisy. The witch, meanwhile, set up the rest of the picnic. As they started on their meals a thought crossed his mind. “I just realized something. Phoenix was born September 14th, Hope was born May 14th, and Uncle Sirius and Aunt Chiara are expecting for mid-April. What are the odds that the baby will also be born on the 14th?”

“Hmm,” she hummed while chewing away. After a swallow she responded, “That’s an interesting idea. It’d be a hell of a coincidence.” After a beat, she added, “Wanna wager on it?”

Harry took the bait. “You’re on. Mid-April is also Easter weekend. If they’re born on the 14th, you have to wear the jester hat when you visit my place to meet them.”

“I’ll take that wager; and if the baby’s not born on the 14th, you have to wear that hat in front of Lord Arcturus.”

Harry’s eyes popped out of his skull, “That’s evil!”

“Do you accept?”

“Hell no! I’m only betting for one day, and that punishment’s way worse than mine!”

Melly snickered, “Alright, fair point.” She clicked her fingers. “How about this, take a magical photo of you holding the baby while wearing the hat, maybe embellish it with more Easter things, and you convince Sirius to put it on display in Grimmauld Place?”

“I’d barely have to convince him if I do that,” Harry pointed out, “but, sure, that works for me.”

“Perfect!” They shook on it, for good measure. “Either way, since we’re now both heading home, we should do something big for our Friendaversary.”

“Works for me. We can plan something closer to the date, especially once I win.”

“‘Once you win’? Sure, Harry.”

They took a break from teasing each other to actually eat their picnic. Conversations moved on to talk about their classes. Harry listened with interest as Melly described what she was learning in her NEWT classes. In Charms they were learning to do non-verbal spells and, according to her classmates, the same was being done for Transfiguration. The concepts she was learning in Arithmancy was far beyond what Harry’s learned so far, but it was cool to hear that she was learning meteorology in class. She waxed poetic about her new history class, of all things; mainly because of out-of-class research she was doing involving music-based magic because of course she was looking into something like that. Divination, meanwhile, was talked about with boredom as it was mainly a review of their previous studies. Then things got interesting again when she talked about Potions class; though he had to do a double-take when it finally clicked that she was taking two double-potions classes!

“That’s so many!”

“Yeah, but think of it this way,” she said, “complicated potions take time to complete, compared to theory classes that we can study outside of class time. So that class needs more time slots to get everything done. It’s also why we have them on Tuesdays and Thursdays, for the ones that need a few days to finish up.”

“I suppose. Snape mentioned that this year we’ll have potions that need two days to complete.”

“Right, I remember that from fourth year.” Melly then giggled, “Like the ageing potion. You cocked that up for my class to set up for Serpageddon.”

“Oh, right. Pierce had mentioned you were working on a two-day potion.” He winced a little, “In that case, I’m half-sorry about that.”

“It’s all good. You were in Honey Badger mode, so I can’t blame you too badly for it.” She stuck her tongue out teasingly. “Now, enough about me, how have your classes been going?”

Harry launched into that prompt easily. He talked about all of his classes, getting nostalgic or helpful commentary from Melly as she shared her own experiences in those classes. Knowing she didn’t take the class, he was able to surprise her with the latest updates about his class’ assignment of looking after Blast-Ended Skrewts.

“...Are you sure these things are real animals? They aren’t just some creepy Frankenstein project Hagrid cooked up?”

“Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if they are,” Harry agreed.

The only thing more horrifying than skrewts, as it turns out, is when he mentioned what happened in DADA yesterday.

“Sorry, you wanna run that by me again?”

“We practiced throwing off the imperius curse,” Harry repeated.

Her eyes went wide, looking down and blinking hard in bewilderment. “Okay, I didn’t mishear you. Wow. Uhh… that’s very illegal, you realize, right?”

Harry nodded. “Hermione said the same thing. Professor Moody says he got Dumbledore’s permission, though, so it was alright.”

Her next words came out in a breath, “The fuuuuuuck?”

“If it makes you feel better, I threw it off, no problem.”

Her head snapped up. “You did?!”

“Mhmm,” Harry smiled proudly. “I felt really relaxed, and my mind kind of fell into my occlumency. When Professor Moody told me to jump on the desk, I was able to tell him ‘No thanks’ and just sat down.”

Her response was a wide-eyed, “Ho-ly shit, kid. You really are something.”

“I mean,” proud as Harry was of his accomplishment, he couldn’t help but blush and aim for humility, “it’s probably just because I know occlumency. I bet if you try it with Professor Moody, you’ll be able to throw it off, too.”

“Fuck that,” she huffed, sounding oddly agitated by the suggested.

Harry opted to tease her for it. “What, do you think you won’t be as good as me to throw it off?”

“No idea, but aside from it being, again, highly illegal, we can both agree that my mind’s been possessed enough for one lifetime.”

Oh. Harry flushed with shame. “Right, sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah.” Melly gave a shudder. “Now I’m doubly glad I didn’t sign up for DADA this year. If I had to go through that again… actually, I should warn the Ravenclaw-Slytherin class before their Monday class. Give them some mental prep or a chance to back out.”

“I can tell the Ravenclaws tomorrow,” Harry offered.

“Sweet. I appreciate that, Harry.”

Feeling a break in conversation, Harry glanced over their devoured picnic. “We have about an hour until the sun sets. What do you want to do until then?”

Ever the prepared one, Melly answered with, “I brought a deck of cards with me, if that’s good with you?”

“Bril! I’ll clean up here while you shuffle.”

A few rounds of card games later, the two stopped playing to watch the sunset. The sky was a mix of orange, gold, magenta, and purple. The sunset-cooled breeze played with their hair and carried autumn leaves in the wind. In opposition to this coolness, the two sat side by side, wrapping each other in one-armed hugs. It was calming, peaceful. His mind soothed, nestled in the gentle senses of evening.

“This is nice.”

“It is,” Melly agreed.

Minutes passed in silence. Only the sounds of birds and breezes filled the void. The lull was only broken when Melly made an odd hum of disapproval.

“What is it?”

“Just had a vision, I think.”

Harry glanced sideways, seeing a concerned expression on her face. “What was it about?”

“Me, being an absolute arse to you.”

Now it was his turn to be concerned, slowly stressing the question, “Why?”

“Can’t say. Though it looks like it will happen soon… That said, no matter what justification I try to give for it at that moment, I apologize in advance for how I’m going to act.”

Harry considered the odd apology for a long moment. “I think I forgive you in advance?”

She gave a snort, “How about you wait until whatever this is passes? Also, I’m going to write you an IOU of Honeydukes sweets as repayment. Does that work?”

“Bribery, how very Slytherin of you,” Harry teased. The two teased each other over that remark before he finally conceded, “Alright, fine, I accept your bribe, so long as I write the quantity after the arsehole moment.”

“Works for me. I’ll deserve it.”

Odd and ominous visions aside, Harry actually found the whole thing funny. Especially as she was willing to hand him a blank check for sweets, of all things, for something that might not even happen. Satisfied with the idea that it’s not actually that big of a deal, Harry decided to dismiss the conversation. Instead, he kept Melly in her spot and the two continued to watch the sunset until they were well and ready to return to the castle.

Sunday October 16th, 1994

During breakfast Harry found his attention diverted between two owls. There was Magdalene, with letters from Sirius and Arcturus; and there was Hootini, bearing a letter from Uncle John. It wasn’t rare for Jeff’s family to write him letters, but it was strange to see a large envelope with two other envelopes inside it. The first was clearly Uncle John’s. The second, however, had handwriting which gave him pause. He read over Uncle John’s first, confirming his suspicions, before opening up the second.

Dear Harry,

I hope this letter gets to you. I’m going to ask Jeff Bennett’s parents if they know how to forward mail to your kind. If not, well, if you’re reading this then I must have figured something out.

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, thank you. I mean, it was you, wasn’t it? Netherne Hospital suddenly has all of mum’s paperwork in order. They say it just turned up like magic. So that’s gotta be you, right? Aunt Marge still won’t let mum stay with us, but with all of this paperwork around we can at least move her to the community home near us. It’ll be nice to not have to travel hours to see her.

I know things weren’t great for you back when we lived in Little Whinging. I don’t know, I guess I’m just surprised. With how mum and dad treated you, and I guess how I treated you, too, I never would have thought you’d do something so nice. It doesn’t really make sense, but I appreciate it. So, yeah, thanks Harry.

If you want to write back, you can send a letter to me at Smeltings. I got in, just like my dad always wanted. I’m in the boxing club, and I’m trying my best at school. It’s tough, but if I want mum to move in with me after I graduate I have to get a good job, right? I’ve been getting help with all that, so hopefully I’ll get better before the exams. Anyways, how have you been?

All the best,

Dudley

The letter finished, leaving Harry with confused feelings. Dudley was right, Harry had done something to help. Right at the end of summer he’d gone to the Ministry’s Muggle Liaison Office to ask about his aunt’s paperwork. It had been a mess, and they only promised to “talk it over with the boss”, but- lo and behold- here was the proof that something had actually been done about it! That said, he never expected anything to come of it. He just wanted to do something to assuage his small bit of guilt and then move on with his life as if nothing had ever happened. Never in a million years did he expect Dudley to write to him- let alone want Harry to write back!

Not knowing how to feel about it, he eventually shared his confusion to his Hufflepuff friends while they were lounging in the courtyard.

“Isn’t this the cousin that used to beat you up?” Kevin asked.

Wayne huffed, “Cousin of the year, that one.”

“Still,” Hannah said softly, “it’s nice that he’s willing to write to you and thank you. Maybe this is a chance for you two to start acting like a real family?”

“I mean, maybe?” Harry looked over at the last paragraph of the letter. “He did ask how I’m doing, but he might have just tacked that on to be polite.”

Kevin gave a small hum of thought, “You said he was always just a dumb bully, right? Maybe… I don’t know, maybe he’s just not used to acting like a decent person? It could be genuine, but he just forgot to ask after you until the end?”

A slew of short chuckles followed that comment. “Yeah,” Harry laughed, “that would make sense coming from Dudley. It’s still weird to see him actually act nice, though.”

“Three years is a long time,” Hannah said.

Harry considered that, “Plus he’s been living with Aunt Marge. In some ways she’s worse than Uncle Vernon, but she’s probably raised him differently than his parents did.”

“Heh,” Wayne laughed, “and them going to Azkaban for child abuse probably made an impression on him and his aunt, too. Wouldn’t want their kid to end up like his parents, right?”

Awkward and nervous expressions changed amongst the others for Harry’s sake. That said, Harry did haltingly concede to his point.

*SMACK!*

Words escaped Harry as he was hit upside the head from behind. “OW! What was that?!”

He turned to shout at whomever hit him, only to find a finger pointing between his eyes. He went briefly crosseyed before focusing on the furious face of Melly bearing down on him. “DON’T you FUCKING DARE enter the tournament!” she raged. Every face in the courtyard turned to the sudden altercation. “I swear on every angel and demon in existence, if you even TRY to enter this tournament I will hex you into a coma, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!”

“What?! I’m not going for the tournament!”

“NO?! Then what the hell did I just see, huh?!” she waved dramatically in the air. “A whole crowd of people cheering you on while your life’s at risk, that’s all just for a laugh, right?!”

Confusion lanced through him. More so as a blur of green streaks ran through the courtyard, making a beeline for Melly. He finally identified them as Soros and Flinton practically tackled her into a wall, and Pucey followed behind asking, “Potter, are you alright?”

“I’m- maybe? What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know!” Pucey said. “Mel spaced out while we were in the library. When she broke out of it she asked me a couple questions about broom sports, then stormed off saying she was going to kill you!”

The courtyard gasped at his explanation. Harry, too, was bewildered and scared over the sudden attack and explanation. Meanwhile, the other Slytherins struggled as Melly was shouting at them. “It was just a figure of speech! God! I’m fine! Let me go!” She ripped her arm away from Soros, raising a clawed hand and taking in a slow, angry breath. The breath released with the hand thrown down. Then she twisted over to Harry and his friends, pointing in an arc at Hannah, Wayne, and Kevin. “You three, keep Harry away from the Champion Selector! I want you on him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t end up in the tournament! Do you understand me?”

“...Yes?” They each answered.

“Good!” She turned back to Harry. “And you, Houdini, you’re not going to try and enter the Triwizard Tournament, right?”

Harry gave a nervous swallow. “I won’t.”

“Excellent,” her expression was of a disturbingly angry smile. It only normalised as the smile dropped and she glared at Flinton. “I’m done. They’ve been warned. You can let me go now.”

Flinton drew her wand with one hand, then let Melly go from the other. Satisfied, Melly stormed off into the building, leaving the entire courtyard reeling in her wake.

“It doesn’t make sense!” Harry stormed through the Chamber of Secrets. “I’ve hardly thought about joining the big fight (tournament!) Why is she convinced that I’m going to be in it?”

“She must have seen it in the future,” Kevin said. “That must be what Pucey meant about her spacing out, yes?”

“It still doesn’t make sense! If I have no desire to join, why would she see me join?”

A grand hiss came from Caireen, “Perhaps you do not ask to join, you merely fight.”

“That’s not possible,” said Harry.

“Why?”

“The one who chooses the fighters will choose by the rules. Only the oldest and strongest will be chosen.”

“Are you not strong, Harry? Did you not defeat my previous master when you were a new hatchling? The one who chooses the fighters may decide you are most worthy to fight.”

Both boys gave an uncomfortable exchange. “She has a point. We don’t know who the one who chooses will be. They can be an admirer.”

Harry groaned at the possibility, “True, but it’s dangerous! Wouldn’t they want to not risk my life going against older hatchlings and winding dangerous paths (tasks)?”

“Perhaps it will not be an admirer,” Caireen considered. “An enemy could want you dead.”

Somehow that was even worse.

“So either an admirer wants to see you fight, or an enemy wants you dead,” Kevin surmised. “Unless you are lying and plan to join the fight?”

“I’m NOT lying!” Harry shouted.

“Alright! Alright! Relax, Harry!”

“Sorry, I just-” He facepalmed, “This is so confusing. Lissa has never struck me before. That she would strike when I haven’t done something wrong or plan to do something wrong- none of it makes sense! It’s even worse to think that I might be forced to fight against my will.”

“But they’re the only things that make sense,” Kevin said apologetically. “Why else would she be certain of you joining the fight so soon before we pick a champion, unless it will happen?”

…So soon before we pick a champion? …Soon.

Something about that word twinged in Harry’s mind. 

‘A vision. … Me, being an absolute arse to you. … it looks like it will happen soon…’ 

That, and… thinking about it, she had made him promise under the name Houdini, hadn’t she? Another thought, a memory, emerged…

‘Are you willing to warn me right before things go wrong?’

‘Of course. As much as I’m able to.’

“Oh. Oh, no.” She hadn’t been trying to hurt him, Melody was trying to WARN him! “I think I know why. Sorry, I have to go. It was good talking to you, Caireen! Kevin, I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?!”

“I have to see Dumbledore! Right now!”

“I can assure you, Mister Potter, our selector for the Triwizard Tournament is perfectly impartial.”

Harry shook his head at the Headmaster. “I’m not so sure about that. Melody’s convinced that I’m going to end up in the tournament. Someone’s going to bribe the judge to make sure I enter.”

Dumbledore gave a short chuckle. He only stopped at seeing Harry’s frustrated expression. “I’m sorry, my boy, it’s just that the one who selects the champions cannot be bribed. They cannot be convinced or bribed or swayed in any way. They are not emotional, nor political, none can persuade our impartial judge, as you will understand when you see them on the 30th.”

“But something must go wrong, right? A seer doesn’t get visions over nothing!”

Dumbledore's amused expression continued. “Has your friend never been wrong? Is she truly so all-knowing that her predictions come true every time, without question?”

“...Well…” No, not always.

“You will find, Mister Potter, that divination is a woolly subject at the best of times. Even prophecy, the most powerful form of divination, can pass unfulfilled. As you said, what happened today was merely a vision, something far less powerful than prophecy. I understand your concerns, but I can assure you that you, nor any other underage student, can be entered in the Triwizard Tournament, willingly or otherwise.”

Harry mulled over the Headmaster’s speech with frustration. Sure, Melody isn’t infallible, but she wouldn’t have done something so dramatic as hitting him without good reason! Voldemort’s making his move, and Harry’s life’s on the line! So what, now? Is he supposed to sit back and let Voldemort get away with this and get him to die in the tournament?! Heh, the Master of Death dying in a student competition, how perfectly ironic!

The Master of Death…

His eyes narrowed at Dumbledore, allowing his heart to attune with the aura of Death, feeling it trail towards the man ahead of him. “Let’s say you’re wrong, and the judge chooses me after all, I’ll be forced into a competition where older, stronger students are facing deadly challenges. Things that will be even harder for someone my age. If that happens, then I want your assurance that I’ll be protected as best as I’m able to be.”

Dumbledore considered that for a moment. “I can certainly speak to the organisers about implementing safeguards, if that were the case. However, the tournament rules also state that we professors cannot help the champions.”

“I don’t need extra help from the rest of the professors,” Harry said dismissively, “I’d only need my wands. The one I have here with me, and the one that’s mine by right of conquest.”

Dumbledore’s eyes flew wide. “You cannot mean- Surely- Harry, dear boy- what you are asking for is dangerous! I cannot allow you to-”

“I’ve let you keep the Elder Wand this whole time, purposefully,” said Harry. He enjoyed the look of shock on Dumbledore’s face. “I have been perfectly fine with you keeping it up until now. In fact, I was willing to wait until I graduate; but, if my life is suddenly at risk by being in the tournament, then I’ll need every advantage at my disposal, and that includes both of my wands.”

Dumbledore was starting to squirm. His hand touched the wand, flinching as a sudden spark of black lightning struck his hand. The wand is Harry’s, and it’s only obeyed Dumbledore begrudgingly because of Harry’s previous nonchalance. Now, though, it was responding to its Master’s will; a fact both Harry and Dumbledore were now painfully aware of.

His hand moved away from the wand. “If you do not enter the tournament,” he said slowly, “are you willing to wait until the end of your seventh year?”

“I am.”

“...Do you have any intention to enter the Triwizard Tournament?”

“No.” Harry said sternly. “None whatsoever.”

Dumbledore’s face was at war with itself. It only ended with another threatening spark at his side, and a weary sigh. “Very well. Should you be forced into the tournament against your will, I will give you the Elder Wand.”

Harry gave a breath of relief. “That’s all I needed to hear, sir.”

“However, know this… the Elder Wand is no mere tool, Mister Potter. It is a dangerous weapon, one that has claimed many lives over the centuries, both from its Masters’ enemies and from its Masters. Tread carefully, young Harry. Do not claim that which you do not understand.”

“I understand perfectly, Professor,” Harry said solemnly. “I will do only what is right and best for me,” as the Master of Death.

Chapter Text

Wednesday October 19th, 1994

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR CEDRIC!

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

Noise makers galore sounded off as Cedric happily blew out the candles. Cheers rang about the party room, and they all dove straight in for slices of cake.

As the teens began to settle in for their dessert, Jason Adams flashed Cedric a grin, “That makes seven of us now who are of age. So how about it, Cedric? Are you signing up for the Triwizard Tournament?”

“Definitely!” Cedric answered. “Are you signing up?”

“Of course!”

“You’re crazy,” Kenneth said with exasperation, “You’re not even taking DADA this year.”

“So?” Jason gave a laughing scoff, “It’s a thousand galleon prize! Who wouldn’t sign up?!”

“Cyril isn’t,” Cedric answered. “Eric Murley isn’t either.”

“Okay, yeah, but does Murley even have a personality?” Severely people gave snorts of laughter, though they quickly tried to hide it from the Ravenclaws in earshot. “And Cyril wants to be a doctor or a healer, right? Can hardly picture a medic in a death-defying battlefield.”

“So who does that leave us?” Juliet asked. “Aside from Cedric and you, I mean.”

“Senga’s going to put her name in,” Lucy supplied.

“Rachel, too,” Jacqueline added. “As well as Cassius.”

“Warrington?” Jason blinked incredulously. “I’m… sure Mister Tri-Course is perfectly equipped to pull it off!” More laughter followed at his comment.

“So that makes five, right?” Lucy asked.

“Six,” Kenneth said, “Angelina’s birthday is next week.”

“Six, then. Who do we think will be chosen?”

“Cedric,” Juliet and Kenneth said simultaneously.

“Hey!” Jason shouted at Kenneth, “you’re supposed to be on my side!”

Kenneth gave an apologetic smile, “Jace, I lo- like your enthusiasm, but be realistic. Our team did awful last year, and this is an international tournament. There’s no way you’ll be picked. Senga and Onyilogwu have a better chance, but my money’s on Cedric or on one of the seventh years.”

At those magic words, Melissa perked up from her seat, “Oh, your money’s on it, is it? Want to join the betting pool? I can get in touch with the bookie.”

The room flashed her disapproving looks, albeit each for different reasons. Sierra, at least, looked amused, “Are people really letting you place bets after that blow up you had a couple days ago?”

“Hey, that possibility just took me off guard!” Melissa argued. “Besides, I spread out my bets over a couple options. I haven’t seen a guaranteed Champion.”

“But you do think it’s Harry,” Jacqueline pointed out.

Melissa sucked in a breath, “I admit that I may have jumped to conclusions.” She winced apologetically, “I only saw Harry flying to a cheering crowd, moving in a way that didn’t seem like a quidditch match. At the time, I was worried that he plans to enter the tournament, but, when I thought about it later, I realized that that doesn’t make any sense, especially if Dumbledore and the Judge are putting in ways to keep underaged people out. Otherwise, I’d place my bets on Roberta or Cromwell getting in.”

Sierra nodded, “That makes sense. He’s probably just going to play some other game.”

“Wait, Roberta or Victoria? Does that mean you wouldn’t bet on me?” Cedric teased.

Melissa smiled back, “Hey, you’ve got skills, Ced; but if money’s on the line, I’m going for the people with the top DADA marks.”

Jason laughed loudly, “Damn, Bennett, you’re vicious!”

“I prefer to call it pragmatic.”

Sierra snorted, “And greedy.”

“That, too.” Jacqueline agreed.

“HEY!”

Thursday October 20th, 1994

On their way to breakfast, the sixth-year Slytherin girls were intercepted by Fred and George Weasley. “Gouda morning, ladies!” They called out.

The girls glanced at each other in mild confusion before looking back at them. “Good morning?”

“It’s a grate morning today, isn’t it?

“...It’s alright,” Amy answered them.

Jacqueline went on the cautious offensive, “Can we help you with something?”

“Help us? No. We’re just swissing you a gouda morning.”

Rusalka blinked. “...Swissing us?”

With a snort, Melissa answered her. “I brie-lieve the boys are just excited about potions class today.” She flashed them a smile, which they returned brilliantly.

Rusalka looked at them with disdain. “Brie-lieve? What on earth is wrong with you three?”

The answer was realized by Jacqueline, who groaned with annoyance. “Are you three making cheese puns because we’re learning about cheese-based potions today?”

“You cheddar believe it!” The twins answered.

The three (serious) girls groaned, and Jacqueline couldn’t help but cry, “You three are unbelievable!”

“What? It’s the best queso scenario for a lesson like today,” said George.

“I get that cheese jokes are nacho thing, Pierce,” said Fred, “but that doesn’t mean we have to stop.”

Melissa and Amy giggled at the jokes. Jacqueline, on the other hand, shook her head and muttered, “Professor Snape will kill you if you keep talking like this in class.”

“We beg to disa-brie.”

“Now, now, boy,” Melissa chided gently, “you mozza try to restrain yourselves today if you want to avoid getting kicked out of class.”

“Restraint? I camembert it!” Fred cried.

“Oh, for the love of Circe!” Rusalka cried. “That’s it, we’re leaving!” She actively pulled Melissa with her as she walked off, with Amy and Jacqueline easily following beside them. “Magic, save us from the insanity!”

“You say as you pull me with you,” Melissa said with a tease. 

“Hmph! You may have your moments, but you’re still one of us. That said, the less influence you get from those boys, the better.”

“Aww, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Rusalka rolled her eyes. “Don’t hold your breath to hear more of it. Come on, girls.”

They sat down and enjoyed their breakfast, talking time to quiz each other for their upcoming lesson, as well as talk about the party last night and the potential champions for the tournament.

A while after the owls came and went, another boy approached their table. It was the second-year Ravenclaw, Tom Baker.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning, Baker.” Melissa spied a letter in his hand, and a guess formed in her mind. “How are you doing?”

“Great! I have good news!” He held his letter out to her. “My little sister was born yesterday!”

“Nice! Congratulations, Baker!” Melissa took the letter and glanced over the contents. “Tyche Rose Baker. So they went with the top option. Nice!”

“Oh, is this the baby you were talking about?” Jacqueline looked over at the letter with interest.

Tom nodded eagerly, “Yep! She’s going to be magical, too. Bennett did a whole reading and everything for her!”

Sure, kid. Shout it to the world. She looked around to see curious gazes aimed her way. Then again, no one has to know that I did it in an illegal setting.

“I’ll be sure to send my congratulations and a gift for the baby,” she promised. She returned the letter to Tom, and he happily skipped back to his seat.

“Excuse me,” Melissa turned to find a second year girl, Lilian (‘call me Jenny’) Hopkins, leaning from her seat towards them, “did you do a name divining for that boy’s family?”

“I did. I’ve also done one for another witch who’s expecting. It’s a lot of fun,” she added with a giggle.

“Amazing!” said Jenny. She then lamented, “I wish my parents did that for me. I was one of six Lilys in my class. It was awful!”

“Don’t forget about us Harrys,” Harry Denbright clipped. “Seemed like everywhere I went growing up there was another Harry around.”

“Or Harriets,” Byron playfully added. 

Other non-legacy kids joined in on the tease.

“Or Harrisons.”

“Or James’.”

“Or Jamesettas.”

“Hey! Leave me out of this, Shah!” Jamesetta cried out, throwing an angry finger in Poornima Shah’s face. “I was named after my great-grandmother. Don’t rope me in with that lot!”

Laughter rang about at her outrage, and at the poor unfortunate souls with the legacy names.

Jenny then spoke above the rest, “Hey, Bennett, when I grow up and start a family, can I write to you to get a reading?”

“Sure thing, Hopkins!” Melissa grinned, especially as others started to mutter and nod happily at the idea. “I’ll only be an owl post away!”

“Perfect! Thanks, Bennett!”

“You’re welcome!”

The younger years broke away from the teenagers, talking excitedly amongst themselves about divination or other topics. Her dorm-mates, meanwhile, gave her bemused looks.

“I thought you said you’re moving to America after you graduate?” Jacqueline asked. “Won’t that be a problem for starting a Name Divining business?”

“No. It’s not like I’d have to be around at a set time, just when they’re expecting. Besides, planes are cheaper than international portkeys. I’ll be able to handle doing two jobs just fine.”

Jacqueline gave an impressed nod. “Ambitious.”

“Very Slytherin,” Rusalka smirked.

To that, Melissa happily agreed.

Sunday October 30th, 1994

The school had been polished from top to bottom in anticipation of the foreign arrivals. The students, similarly, were accosted into proper dress code and overall presentation. Melissa didn’t mind it, though. New students were coming to the school, and she wanted to make a good first impression.

“Vy izucha- chaye- fucking Christ,” she whispered in frustration. “Vy izu…chayete… Vy izuchayete… volshebnuyu… pesnyu… v svoyey… shkole? … Vy izuchayete volshebnuyu pesnyu v svoyey shkole? … Ya igrayu na balalayke.”

Standing as they were, in a row outside of the entrance doors, Rusalka turned to Melissa with a face cringing with embarrassment. “Please, Mel, for the love of magic, stick to English.”

“I want to make a good impression-”

“They will eat you alive!” She snapped. “You won’t even understand their answers, anyway, so what’s the point?!”

“Stop bickering, both of you!” Snape growled at them. The girls quieted down, but Melissa still repeated the phrases in her head, just in case.

The entire school waited anxiously as the minutes ticked to 6 o’clock. As dusk fell, people began to shiver from the lack of sun. Then, finally, the anxious silence was broken as Dumbledore exclaimed from the back row, “Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

“Where?” Students shouted, looking all around them.

Melissa, on the other hand, knew to look up. “There!”

Others followed her gesturing to the sky above the forest, finally catching the dark shape as it approached.

“It’s a dragon!” A first-year girl shrieked.

“Don’t be stupid,” A boy beside her scoffed. “…It’s a flying house!”

Melissa huffed a laugh through her nose at the boy’s guess. She knew it would be something along those lines, and it certainly seemed that way as a team of golden abraxan flew in pulling a house-sized powder-blue carriage behind them. The abraxan and carriage alike landed onto the earth at a frightening speed, causing many to jump back as they pulled in close. Having not taken CoMC, Melissa openly stared at the dazzling, giant, winged horses; admiring them from their gleaming gold coats, to their wings, to their fiery red eyes.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered under her breath.

In her distraction, she failed to notice a boy in pale blue robes hop out of the carriage and fumble for the golden steps for Madame Maxime’s grand debut. In fact, she didn’t even notice the woman. That is, until she heard Rusalka swear under her breath, “Fucking hell, Bennett, when you said a tall French woman, I thought you meant humanly tall; not… whatever she is!”

“Huh?” Melissa turned her attention down the line of horses to the carriage itself. Her eyes went wide. “Oh- hot damn- she is… actually, that’s about right.”

Rusalka and Amy flashed her looks of frustrated disbelief. They only ended as Dumbledore started to clap, prodding the rest of the school to do the same. They watched as Madame Maxime and Dumbledore exchanged pleasantries, as well as care tips on the abraxan.

“Very well,” the woman bowed slightly to Dumbledore, “will you please inform zis ‘Agrid zat ze ‘orses drink only single-malt whiskey.”

Single-malt whiskey. Going to remember that. She watched as Madame Maxime and her two dozen students filed into the school to warm up. She was pretty sure she spotted Fleur among the few covering their heads with silk scarves, but in the darkness it was hard to tell. Not that it mattered. Sure, she planned on befriending people at both schools; but these golden horses on the other hand held most of her attention. “So… think you two will get a chance to study them for your class?”

“Mmm, hopefully,” Amy nodded at the idea. “It’d be a great opportunity.”

“Well, if you do, let me know. I’d love to find out how to see one up close. Imagine riding one of those?!”

Amy grinned at the thought. “I know what you mean. Sure thing!”

Minutes later, a deep rumbling and gurgling sound came from the darkness. Lee was the first (aside from Melissa) to spot the source of the noise. “The lake! Look at the lake!”

They watched as the black waters bubbled and rippled into waves. Then, emerging from the depths, came a vast, skeletal ship. Its presence was like the Flying Dutchman in all its ghostly glory. The students watched in awe as the ship glided to shore, waiting with baited breath as it anchored and its passengers disembarked.

Whispers floated as the Durmstrang contingent approached. “-say he’s a Death Eater,” said a first year in earshot.

“-got away-”

“-sold them out-”

“-teaches them dark arts-”

The words silenced as the source of the rumours approached, booming a friendly greeting to the Headmaster. “Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?”

“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore answered.

Did he really just say ‘Blooming’?

The men shook hands, then Karkaroff beckoned Viktor to leave their own contingent in order to warm up inside. Kind of pointless. They’re all coming inside now, after all, aren’t they? Melissa shrugged to herself, letting her attention divert from the trio. An act which was not shared as most of the rest of the school realized the identity of the third wizard in their trio.

At her side, Rusalka was one of the rare exceptions. She had her focus further down the line, giving an upward head nod to one of the Durmstrang boys. The action caught Melissa’s attention, and she soon found the recipient of the nod- an older teen with coiffed red hair and a verdi-style beard- returned her nod with an impish grin. Breaking decorum, Rusalka lifted her tie up high, her finger tapping on it for emphasis. The boy looked confused, yet gave a wary nod before following his Headmaster and classmates into the school.

The Hogwarts students then filed in after the Durmstrang students. The houses began to move into their respective seats, many of them watching almost hungrily at the Durmstrang students (who had paused within the Great Hall) hoping to beckon Viktor Krum to join their ranks.

Many hopes were dashed as the redheaded boy clicked his fingers and gestured the group towards the green and silver banners of Slytherin. The others followed suit, and soon the foreign contingent mixed in with their table-

-But not before the redhead made a beeline for Rusalka with open arms. “двоюродная сестра Русалка!”

She welcomed the hug with a hearty squeeze. “двоюродный брат бродный!”

The two rapidly began to converse in Russian, drawing others from Durmstrang into the conversation as they took to their seats.

Approaching the table, Jacinth’s mouth gaped with angry confusion. “Who the bloody hell is that?!”

Jacqueline and the remaining girls looked at him oddly. “Cousin Brodny, evidently.”

“Cousin Brodny?” the voice came with suspicion. Then, finally, something clicked with the boy. “Oh. Right. She mentioned something about that.”

The sixth years took their seats, aiming to be closer to the Durmstrang students, using Rusalka as their way in. Jacinth, especially, took the lead on this as he loudly introduced himself with an extended hand, “Jacinth Wystan. Ru’s boyfriend.”

Brodny’s eyes gleamed darkly. He looked to Rusalka, asking, “This is the one?” On seeing her confirmation, Brodny accepted the handshake. “I’ve heard about you, Jacinth Wystan,” his name was emphasized, though it was unclear if it was as an acknowledgement or a threat. “My cousin says good things. Treat her well,” he gave a casual oh well shrug as he added, “or else I break you.”

Half of the Slytherins in earshot flinched then stiffened at the blatant threat.

…then Half of the Durmstrang teens burst into laughter. “Look at his face!” a boy shouted, gesturing at Jacinth. “So serious!”

“He’s had it too easy, clearly,” another teased.

“No, that’s just the English,” a blonde girl added. “They take everything seriously. No fun.”

“Da! Dat is true!”

More laughter followed, and Jacinth’s face went red. Though he managed to keep his cool as Rusalka pulled him to sit with the group.

Moments later the Headmasters entered the room. Silence fell through the hall as Dumbledore welcomed the new arrivals to Hogwarts and summoned the feast. Melissa dove for the food straight away, using the foreign dishes as a useful icebreaker to engage the Durmstrang teens in conversation.

“You need to try lingon and gurkor with the köttbullar,” insisted Astrid Wikström, a blonde Swedish witch, as Melissa served herself some meatballs (the aforementioned köttbullar).

“Lingon and gurkor?” She followed the girl's gestures to the small serving bowls nearby. “Lingonberries and… gherkins? Cucumbers? Gurkor?”

“Exakt!”

“Perfect! Thanks!” She snagged the sides and moved on to magic talk. “Are you all going to take classes with us? Some of us are learning alchemy this year, and other special classes.”

“Yes, we were told,” Astrid said excitedly. “Some classes we will do on the ship, but when we heard about the special classes at Hogwarts, how can anyone resist?”

At her side, a brown haired boy named Lev Poliakoff gave a laughing scoff. “Professor Karkaroff certainly tries. He vood rather ve not stay in ze castle long.”

“Well that’s dumb,” Melissa said. “Isn’t the whole point of visiting a foreign school to learn foreign cultures and classes?”

“Exactly!” Lev said with loud gestures. “Zat’s vot ve all said. Vell, all until Viktor. Once he asked to take Hogvarts classes, zen he says ‘Of course, of course, dear boy! My precious Quidditch Star, vot a vonderful idea!”

Melissa and several others cracked up at Lev’s dramatic acting. Farther down the table, Viktor glowered at Lev. Despite the humour, Melissa felt pity for the boy. “Don’t mind us, Krum. Some people act really stupid when it comes to celebrities. You should see how some people treat my friend, Harry Potter. It gets really annoying for him, the poor kid.”

“Harry Potter?!” asked another girl who’s name she hasn’t caught yet. “You’re friends with him?”

“Yeah, but it’s like I said, he’s just a regular kid wanting to live his life. Oh, super skilled at quidditch, though. Catches the snitch every game. He was so upset that they put an age limit on quidditch this year. Can you imagine not being allowed to play the game for a whole year?”

A few of the Durmstrang kids cringed at the thought. Even Viktor looked pensive about it. “Dat vood be sad,” he agreed. “Perhaps he can do small games for fun?”

Melissa nodded thoughtfully. “True. Will you do the same if you get selected for the Tournament, or will you also join your school’s quidditch team?”

“Hmm…” a gentle smile grew on his face, “vy not all three?”

“Against younger children?” the other girl said teasingly. “You’ll beat them like it’s nothing!”

“Don’t be so sure about that!” Adrian pounced into the conversation. “No offense to Cedric and Chang, but if Potter or Malfoy were allowed to compete, either one of them would have gotten Seeker this year for sure!”

The quidditch-contingent began to make their own circle of conversation about the games, both figuratively and literally blocking Melissa out as Cassius, Montague, and Malfoy joined the conversation.

Melissa, Astrid, and Lev begged off of it with rolled eyes and shifted elsewhere. “So back to the classes and stuff, there’s something I want to ask. We learn here how to translate ancient runes, but do you guys study Galdralag or, um, volshebnuyu pesnyu?”

“Volsheb-?” Lev gave a snort. “In Russian it’s pronounced volshebnaya pesnya.”

“Oh,” she blinked dumbly. “Volshebnaya pesnya?”

“Zat’s it! Exactly!”

“Alrighty,” she swore to retain that in memory. “So do you guys learn about it?”

“How to do it? Of course.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Astrid said. “It’s magic. Are we not witches?”

“I know, you would think, yet they never talk about it here. I only found out last month because of a new class about ancient cultures, but we haven’t even learned how to do it in class, just that it exists.”

They looked extra confused now. “Then how do you do rituals?”

“We don’t,” she answered. “I mean… I’ve done a couple rituals, in secret, but it’s not common because people think rituals are part of the dark arts.”

“Dark arts?” Astrid asked. Words were exchanged with Lev in another language, then a few others were pulled into the exchange before things were understood; and, by understood, meaning that they started rolling their eyes or groaning with annoyance. “It’s the English, I tell you, you people are too serious! You live away from everyone, learn nothing from anyone, and think anything complicated is bad! Listen,” Melissa found herself pulled into Astrid’s command, along with a few other of her classmates in earshot, “there are very few things that are ‘dark arts’. Evil curses that need feeling evil emotions to do. Same for… how you say… ‘light arts’. Things that need good emotions to do good things. Everything else, most all magic, is just magic! Nothing good or evil about them!”

“I totally agree!” Melissa said. “I have no problem with it. In fact, I want to learn galdralag magic. It’s just not how things are taught here.”

“Then you learn with us!” Astrid insisted. “We learn from your school, and you learn from us!”

“Really?!” Melissa asked with excitement.

“Really?” Lev asked with unease.

“Of course! Your magic is being- uh-” she struggled for words, “övergiven- left behind as witch. You should be allowed to learn magic without these stupid English ideas. We will help you!” On hearing Lev moan, she scoffed at him. “Ignore him, I will help you. Agreed?”

“Absolutely! I’d LOVE to learn it!”

“Good. Now first, very important, do you know how to play music?”

A collective eruption of groans and laughter came from Amy, Jacqueline, Domonkos and Garrick. “Oh boy, here we go!”

“Yes, Melissa,” Domonkos said sarcastically, “do you know how to play music?”

She and her friends snorted with laughter. “Sorry,” she gestured to the confused Durmstrang duo, “it’s just that it’s easier to ask what musical instruments I don't play. That's why I’m so interested in galdralag.”

Both Astrid and Lev looked impressed by that answer. “Good. Then this should be little problem. We can make a plan after tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me!”

Conversation moved on from there, the students all mingling, enjoying their supper and desserts from various nations. Amy, in particular, was excited on noticing four extra seats at the head table filled on either side of Karkaroff, Dumbledore, and Maxime. Two were of wizards Melissa didn’t recognize; but the other two, practically everyone who spoke to those people last time were excited for another opportunity.

That conversation ended as Dumbledore stood to address the students at the end of the feast.

“The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mister Chrysanthos Wilkins, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” he gestured to a man sitting beside Karkaroff on Dumbledore's right, to the sound of light applause, “and Mister Ludo Bagman, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports,” this name came with louder applause as the smiling man waved from Maxime’s side of the table, “whom have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangement for the Tournament. They are joined here by Miss Cordelia Murphy of the Dark Force Defence League and Mister Louis Thoreau of the Federation of European Duellists, who have agreed to return to Hogwarts to join Mister Wilkins, Mister Bagman, myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions’ efforts. They will also be serving as guest lecturers for this year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.”

Okay, THAT I did not expect! Melissa blinked as the applause grew even louder. But also, how awesome is that?!

“The casket, then, if you please, Mister Filch.” Dumbledore continued as Filch brought forth a jewel-encrusted wooden chest. “The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mister Wilkins and Mister Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

“As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champion will be chosen by an impartial selector… the Goblet of Fire.”

Dumbledore tapped the lid three times with his wand- the wand emitting black, void-like sparks as it did so- causing Melissa to shiver with dread. She worked to tamp down on the feeling as Dumbledore removed the wooden goblet, its white-blue flames a neat contrast to the wand’s darkness. Around her, other students Oo’ed and Ah’ed at the sight.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the Goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Hallowe’en, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

So… NO change then? Seriously, folks? NOTHING?! And here she thought actual progress was being made! Ah, fuck! Well hopefully the Puffs will do their job of giving Harry an air-tight alibi when everything goes to shit.

Lord knows she won’t be able to do squat for him come tomorrow.

Dumbledore finished off his instructional speech, ending it with a bid of goodnight to everyone. People began to stir among the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The Slytherins, meanwhile, waited among the Durmstrang students as Professor Karkaroff approached their contingent.

“Back to the ship, then.” He then turned to Krum with a look of paternal concern. “Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?”

A few Durmstrang kids rolled their eyes, though Lev had a gleam to his as he said, “Professor, I vood like some vine.”

“I wasn’t offering it to you, Poliakoff,” Karkaroff said harshly. “I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy-”

“Vert a shot,” he said under his breath. He flashed a grin at the Slytherin group. “See you all tomorrow. Vish me luck!”

“Heh, you mean wish me luck!” Astrid shot back with a teasing smile.

The others laughed, calling out their good luck wishes as the Durmstrang students departed.

“It’s too bad they aren’t staying in our dorms,” Draco lamented. “Imagine having Krum and the others around in the same common room. We could give them a proper welcome!”

“We can show them proper hosting in other ways,” Garrick said.

“True.”

Melissa hummed. “Or a sneaky one. Hey, Malfoy, your house elf knows the way to the kitchens, right?”

“...Yes? Why?”

When the Durmstrang contingent arrived back on the ship, each teen was surprised to find a mix of gift baskets hidden in the student rooms, away from Karkaroff’s prying eyes. Within the baskets was a collection of (leftover) British sweets, bottles of mulled cider and wine, and a note which read:

Welcome to Hogwarts!

Cheers to a year of competition and unity,

From your friends in Slytherin.

Chapter Text

Monday October 31, 1994

On Hallowe’en morning, Melissa purposefully slept-in. She took her time to get ready for the day, knowing that her first class wasn’t until second period.

And to wait for Hallow Houdini to finish breakfast and leave. That too.

As she entered the common room, she was surprised to see two other students still inside. Most had rushed off in excitement to see people put their names in the Goblet of Fire; yet here was Byron, sitting next to a sniffling boy who looked strangely defeated.

“Hey, Byron,” she spoke softly as she approached the pair. The boys quickly straightened, as though afraid of being caught showing emotions, (little Slytherins, honestly!) “Hey, don’t mind me, just… is everything okay?”

The other boy, a tiny little brown-haired child, looked positively miserable, yet also looked angry at being asked the question. Even Byron looked… oddly solemn and annoyed. He, at least, gave some kind of answer, but only after giving a resigned sigh, “Melissa, may I introduce Graham Pritchard, son of Simon Pritchard. Graham, may I introduce Melissa Bennett. I believe you’re familiar with her?”

It took Melissa a moment of thought. Graham Pritchard is one of the firsties, she recalls that fact. Though on trying to remember who Simon Pritchard is, it took a second, until-

“Oh!”

AZKABAN!

Her hand flew to her mouth as the answer hit her like a truck.

“You’re his-”

Azkaban fell on HALLOWE’EN!

“I’m so sorry! I- are you- do you want me to talk to Professor Snape? I can get you something to excuse you from classes today. Or maybe Madam Pomfrey has something-”

“Mel!” Byron cut her off. “Melissa, enough. Thank you, but enough.” He looked over at the little Pritchard, gauging the boy’s own reactions, before looking back at her. “We’ll manage by ourselves,” his gaze then broke from her, glaring daggers at someone behind her, “and no one else.”

Confused, Melissa looked behind her to find Draco Malfoy standing there. His eyes were red, though he straightened his shoulders as if little was amiss. “I only wanted to share my condolences. Pritchard,” he looked to the younger boy with a nod, “I’m sorry for your loss. I… I know exactly what you’re going through-.”

“Heh,” Byron scoffed, “do you?”

“BYRON!” Melissa snapped.

“What?!”

She silently mouthed, “SHUT UP”, then stepped back and gestured for Draco to continue.

He looked visibly distraught, but continued. “I know our fathers were on different sides of the law. Obviously one can say your father was the only innocent person to die that day. That said, both of our fathers were right there when Pettigrew… They were caught in the middle of the explosion. So… if you’d like someone to talk to, someone who understands… …You know where to find me.”

Draco started to walk off, but then another voice spoke, catching everyone off guard.

“Actually-” it was Graham Pritchard, “we can talk now, if that’s alright?” He looked over at Byron, “If you don’t mind?”

“I-?” Byron genuinely looked offended by this request.

Catching on, Melissa quickly said, “That’s a great idea! Let’s grab some breakfast, Byron. We’ll see you two later.”

Melissa practically dragged Byron away from the seats, allowing Draco to take over and share his grief with Graham Pritchard. When the VATIC pair exited the common room, Melissa whirled on him in an instant.

“YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!”

“What are you so mad about?!”

“What am I-? Byron, it’s their dads’ one-year death anniversary! How can you POSSIBLY think that what you just did in there is okay?!”

He looked at her like she’s an idiot. “Did you forget that Malfoy’s dad was a Death Eater?”

“And did you forget that Malfoy was the one to testify against him and help put him in Azkaban?”

“Of course not. He did the right thing. That’s why I don’t get what you’re so angry about.”

If eyes could jaw-drop, that was her expression at that moment. “Oh- my- god… Byron,” she put her hands on his shoulders, trying desperately to reason with the boy, “first of all, you are allowed to both love your father and acknowledge when he’s being a piece of shit, but still love him anyways. Second, and this is important, because he testified, Malfoy feels a lot of guilt over his father’s death. If you had not warned your dad about my prophecy, and he went to work and got bit by that werewolf instead, or was killed from the poison, would you not feel incredible guilt and feel like his death was all your fault?”

His lips tightened and twisted as he thought it over. “That’s true, but that’s still different than-”

“OH MY GOD, CHILD!” Melissa’s face looked dramatically skyward. Head shaking and arms raised, she conceded defeat. “Okay- that’s it- we need to go.”

She started to drag him off. He stumbled after her for a few steps before realizing, “The stairs are the other way.”

“We’re not going to breakfast yet,” she clipped, heading straight for the crystal caves.

“Where are we going then? And why?”

“Because you, as a member of VATIC, desperately need a lesson on empathy!”

“For people like Lucius Malfoy? Hmph! And how do you think you’re going to accomplish that?”

“For people like Draco, actually. As for how,” she pulled out her wand to open the secret tunnel, and her wand hummed with glee, “by opening your mind up to new perspectives.”

Harry awoke to a semi-familiar feeling of molasses in his heart. The sensation of Hallows, as is expected as the Master of Death, …and if today should end the way he feared, then that feeling will only intensify thanks to his deal with Dumbledore. …He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Nevertheless, he decided to go about his day as if nothing were amiss. He sat up and moved the bed curtains aside, only for them to instantly and magically wrap around his body.

“AHH!” His feet stumbled, leaving his legs sprawled on the floor as his body hovered and constricted within the tight curtain. “What the? Ack! Help!”

The room stirred as the other boys awoke to the sounds of distress. Cries of confusion rang out, until suddenly Wayne called out, “Blast, I slept in! Sorry, Harry! Finite incantatem.”

The curtain relaxed at once, and Harry slid to the floor.

“Huh? What happened?!” Ernie asked sleepily.

“I’d like to know the same thing!” Harry said, shooting Wayne a dark look.

Wayne flushed, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, it’s just- since Bennett threatened us to watch out for you when the ‘impartial judge’ comes to Hogwarts, and seeing as it’s just a cup, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to jinx your bed to make sure you wouldn’t- you know-?”

“Sneak out and put my name in the Goblet of Fire?” Harry asked flatly.

“W-well-” Kevin joined in with a stammer, “M-maybe not sneak out.”

“Maybe imperio’ed into dropping his name into it in the middle of the night?” Oliver asked with half a tease.

“Hey, it could happen!” Kevin shouted.

“Nothing wrong with covering our bases,” Wayne added.

Oliver snorted, “Against the only person in our class that’s able to fight off an imperio?”

“He’s right,” Harry huffed, as he finally stepped out of the tangled curtain. “Which means you do think I’m going to force my way into the Tournament!”

Both Kevin and Wayne looked nervously at each other, and looked back at Harry flush with guilt. “N-no, of course we don’t-”

“Whatever,” Harry huffed angrily. “I don’t care what you think. Believe whatever you want, I know I’m telling the truth.” He snatched his robes and cloak and stormed off to the loo, slamming the door behind him. He went through his routine, thoughts roiling in outrage against his friends’ lack of trust. How dare they, after everything they talked about! Did it mean nothing to them?!

He threw a cloak over his robes, moving to storm out of the loo, only to pause as his mind stilled into a silent calm. The change in sensation confused him. In that pause, he looked over at his reflection, and blinked in surprise at seeing his face floating above nothingness.

Oh. I grabbed the wrong cloak.

He looked down at the nothingness below him, at the invisibility cloak wrapped and hooded around him, and pondered his odd state.

He was so angry a moment ago. Yet now he felt… safe. Protected. Like none of those concerns matter. Why should they? He knows his own self, and no one would dare force him into entering the tournament while he’s safely hidden under the cloak. Everything’s fine.

Is it though? His mind countered. If he stays invisible, people will think he used the cloak to walk past the age line. Which… Come to think of it, could that work?

Best not to test it. He removed the cloak. Instantly, a part of him felt naked and exposed without it. He put an arm into the silky material, feeling a touch more calm in having it close. Also, he noted, the molasses sensation intensified. Silently, he moved the cloak and stuffed it into a large robe pocket, letting one hand graze the soft material as he exited the loo.

“I’m going to the common room,” he said, not caring to look at the other boys. “You know, to wait for an escort, since I can’t be trusted.”

That escort ended up being Hannah. He was only half surprised to see her waiting around (for him) …because his other half was disappointed.

Clutching onto the cloak, he offered a friendly smile and offered to walk with her to the great hall for breakfast. They walked towards the hall, but found the way obscured as people stood watching Lee and the Weasley Twins as they proclaimed a solution to the age line. Fred and George hopped over the line and moved towards the Goblet of Fire. Instead of dropping their names, however, the two were blasted away! When they sat back up, the boys were sporting long, white beards to rival Dumbledore’s.

People laughed at the result. Fred, meanwhile, shouted in frustration. “UGH! How is it that we can make enough inventions to make the Ministry’s head spin, but we can’t cross a bloody age line with an ageing potion?!”

“It’s bloody nonsense if you ask me!” George agreed.

As they complained, Harry felt a tug on his sleeve. “We should keep moving, Harry,” Hannah said gently. “You’re not supposed to go near the Goblet, remember?”

He gripped the cloak tighter, and forced a reassuring smile onto his face. “I’m not going to enter the tournament, Hannah. I’m just here to watch.”

His words, unfortunately, got the Chucklebunnies’ attention.

“Say, Harry,” Lee approached him casually, “if you were going to enter the tournament, how would you pull it off?”

The twins joined in, comically stroking their beards in curiosity, “Yes, Dear Boy, do tell!”

All eyes turned to Harry, and he instantly felt on the spot. Curse Melody’s stupid visions! He rubbed the material of the invisibility cloak, letting the feeling of safety and calm wash over him. With it, came an interesting thought. Maybe giving them a theory would help? …Or would that make things worse if it works? …No, I’m sure they won’t get it to work. Or, if they do, it doesn’t mean I will get chosen. “If I were…” He regarded Dumbledore’s setup, trying to think of what someone could do to pull it off. “There’s no way I could cross the age line if I tried… Unless…”

They leaned in on their toes. “Unless?”

“Do you even need to cross the line to put your name in? What if you use a levitation charm to put it in?”

That remark got whispers stirring. Moments later, a female voice called out, “WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!” and a slip of parchment went flying. The raised wand directing the parchment was held by Victoria Cromwell, whose eyes were lit with gleeful determination as the parchment got close.

*BOOM!*

A zap of light connected to the parchment and lightning-struck Cromwell. She fell backward, only to push off the ground sporting her own small beard. The hall fell to hysterical laughter!

“Not that, then!” Fred said with a chuckle.

“How do you think it knows she’s underage?” Lee wondered.

“From the Trace, of course,” this time it was Hermione who spoke. “The Trace is tracked by a person’s wand. It’s why any wand work outside of school is reported to the Ministry, but accidental magic and wandless magic is not.”

“...Wandless magic doesn’t count?!” George looked to Fred, both grinning wickedly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Do it!”

George gave it a go. Using his metallic arm, he made a second parchment flutter to the Goblet of Fire, edging closer than Cromwell’s had done.

*BOOM!*

Another zap of light came out, and now George’s beard was so long it reached the floor and looked frazzled with electricity.

“Ooohooohoohooooo!” His body shuddered with electric tingles. “Not that, either!”

“Maybe it’s because your arm’s attached to you?” Harry suggested playfully.

Fred gave him a cunning look. “Care to test that, then? How about you try it?”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “No way! I’m not tempting fate like that! How about you, Hermione? You know how to do wandless magic, right?”

Several people from all schools looked at Hermione in surprise. Hermione, though, huffed indignantly. “Absolutely not! It would be against the rules! Not to mention competing would be exceptionally hard for those of us underage. Honestly, I don’t understand why you two are even trying.”

“Uhhhh, eternal glory and galleons, obviously.”

“Right, Harry?”

How many times do I have to tell people?! “I’m the Boy Who Lived, I already have fame. I’ve also inherited more galleons than I’ll use in a lifetime. Even without those, I’ve already had enough dangers in my life that I wish never happened. Why would I want to risk my life over some crazy tournament, after everything else I’ve been through?”

“That’s right!” Hannah said, surprisingly loudly. “So you all leave him alone! Come on, Harry, let’s go.”

He closed his eyes briefly, in lieu of rolling them. Taking a breath, he reopened his eyes and was about to follow Hannah, only for his ears to catch as a new voice whispered, “Harry!”

He turned his attention to see the Beauxbatons students walking single-file behind their Headmistress towards the Goblet of Fire, each one passing across the age line and dropping their names neatly into the cup with a flare of flames. Among the line was a witch he recognized instantly. “Hey, Ornella!”

The group flinched as he waved loudly. Madame Maxime, of course, had heard and turned around. She regarded him briefly, then turned to Ornella with a stern look. Ornella tried to shrink herself, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the Headmistress from interrogating her in French. He heard his name said among her answers, which caught the other Beauxbatons students’ attention. Soon a few students raised their hands and asked the Headmistress questions, but only once she acknowledged them. It was a small back and forth, one which Harry didn’t understand. When it ended, the group broke their single file and moved into the Great Hall.

Ornella, however, remained behind and gave him a proper, “Hello, Harry! It’s good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too!” Harry said. His eyes flicked to the Headmistress. “What was all that about?”

“Ah,” Ornella blushed lightly, “Madame Maxime wished us to go back to our… ah, our carriage after giving our names. I and others asked that we stay in the school for breakfast. She agreed.”

Their conversation seemed longer than that, but Harry didn’t question it. Beside him, he saw Hannah fidget in place, and he straightened his back for a moment of decorum.

“Hannah, allow me to introduce Ornella Salvatore, a friend I met in Italy. Ornella, this is Hannah Abbott, a friend of mine in Hufflepuff.”

The girls greeted each other politely. Then Hannah turned curious. “If you’re from Italy, why do you go to Beauxbatons? Isn’t that far?”

“It is,” she admitted, “but my mother is French so we have a… come dirlo, a family way in?” Harry nodded in understanding as she continued. “It is a very good school, so my father agreed that I study there.”

“That’s cool.”

They continued talking as Harry followed her over to the Ravenclaw table. Hannah, though confused, joined him at that table. Feeling mischievous, Harry also waved over Stephen and Luna, having them join their group as he sat beside Ornella. He left a space on his other side for Luna, while Stephen took Ornella’s other side and quickly moved to catch up with her about art and life. Introductions were made all around, and Harry blinked in surprise as Luna introduced herself in French. She really is always full of surprises…

“Avez-vous tous inscrit vos noms pour le Tournoi?” Luna asked. Harry was able to parse enough words to understand that she’s asking them about putting their names in for the tournament.

They all answered in the affirmative.

“Oui, mais j'espère que ce ne sera pas choisi,” one boy, Jean-Luc, said. “Je joue gardien de but pour mon équipe de Quidditch.”

Quidditch! Now that’s a word he can understand! “I play seeker on my team!”

Jean-Luc blinked. “Seeker?”

A few others answered him, “Le attrapeur.”

“Ah! D’accord! Comme Madeline et Fleur! You play with us?”

“No,” Harry’s shoulders slumped in defeat, wracking his brain for how to answer in French. “Je nais pas…” the number escaped him, so he rephrased it. “Je suis quatorze.”

A few people snorted in laughter. He shrank a moment, catching that they were laughing at him. Ornella said something scolding to the others, while Luna gently corrected his phrasing.

It didn’t make sense to Harry. “I have fourteen years?

“They treat their age like a possession rather than a state of being.”

He wasn’t sure if that actually explained anything at all.

Though at least one girl, Madeline, recovered from her laughter to respond kindly. “You can still play against us. Just not in a real game. It would be fun to see who is zee best attrapeur. Zee best seeker.”

“Oh. You’re Beauxbatons’ seeker?”

“Yes, but Fleur will ‘ave to take over for me if I am chosen for ze Tournament.” She directed him to a beautiful girl with platinum blonde hair who was sitting farther away from the group. Said girl acknowledged them with little more than a huff. Madeline, on the other hand, offered an encouraging smile. “Still, it would be interesting to play against you.”

Harry smiled at the offer. “I would like that.”

Breakfast continued on with a playful air. The only big change ups were when Luna left the main group to talk with Fleur (who seemed quite shocked and confused that the third-year was wanting to speak with her at all), and when the Twins walked in (their beards now shorn) and began talking to their group in their own heavily accented French. The French students seemed mixed between wanting to talk with the Boy-Who-Lived and the boy with the metal arm, so conversation flowed almost unending on their side of the table. When the bell rang, Harry waved goodbye to the group, happy to have made more acquaintances and potential friends.

Chapter Text

“Come now, students,” Flitwick called loudly, “there ought to be no talking for this exercise. You must perform the bubble-head charm nonverbally!”

The class grumbled under their breaths, then moved on to oblige the frustrating request. A spell on yourself where the wand work is all curves is hard enough. It took ages for them to get it with the spoken spell. Doing it wordlessly, now? That’s a herculean challenge!

Still, we have to learn it. Melissa focused her mind on the words, on the intent, on the flow of her hand, and then-

Still nothing.

A breath released out of her nose. There had to be some way, but doing it on herself made the movements so jerky!

So how about…?

She silently waved for Dom and Eloise’s attention. When she caught them, she mimed her intent, and their eyes flashed at the shortcut. They rearranged their seats and took turns aiming at each other. It was still a struggle, but eventually Eloise gasped as Melissa’s spell took hold.

“Oh! Well done, Miss Hyslop! Ten points to Ravenclaw!”

Melissa paused awkwardly at his response.

“Actually, Professor,” Eloise’s voice echoed oddly from within the bubble, “we were practicing on each other, not ourselves.”

“Ah,” He turned over to Dom and Melissa, regarding them for a moment. “No matter. Ten points to Slytherin, joining with Ravenclaw, for clever strategy. However, I must insist that you learn to cast this spell on yourselves. It’s crucial to have this spell mastered on yourself wordlessly!”

A voice in the back scoffed, “Why?” The class turned toward Cassius. “If we can say the spell, what does it matter if we can do it without words or not?”

“Because, Mister Warrington,” Flitwick said sternly, “the entire point of the spell is to allow you to breathe clean air in a situation where you cannot. If you cannot breathe in a space, do you think you can easily speak a spell in that sort of situation?” A quiet flurry of head shakes from the class answered him. “Precisely. It is also for this reason that you will be learning to cast the extinguishing charm wordlessly. Imagine if you were to be trapped in a fire, surrounded by smoke. As I said, such spells are crucial to learn wordlessly.”

Huh. Melissa’s mind travelled in curious thought. Extinguishing fires and breathing in spaces where you cannot. …is he teaching us ways to survive the Tournament on purpose?

The thought was shelved as she tried her hand at casting the spell on herself. If things go wrong, this spell will be a useful skill to have.

Eventually the bell rang, and Melissa packed up her notes and headed out for lunch. Her way was interrupted, however, by Lee, George, and Fred.

“Say, Mel,” started George, “we’re wondering if you can do us a favour?”

Meanwhile, out on the Hogwarts Grounds…

Since his Hufflepuff friends were set on babysitting him today, Harry decided they can do that from a distance, opting to work with Draco on Hagrid’s bizarre pet project, Blast-Ended Skrewts. The freakish creatures had grown exponentially over the last two months. They were now three feet long and deadlier than ever. Fortunately, they were acting more deadly to their own kind than wizardkind, seeing as they spent the weekend killing each other until Hagrid shoved them into individual boxes. That left twenty skrewts remaining for their class of twenty-three. That worked for Harry. Better to team up than deal with a skrewt one-on-one.

Especially with today of all days.

“How are you feeling?”

Draco didn’t answer at first, his mouth fixed to a frown. Giving a disdainful look at the skrewt, he threw a bit of dead grass snake for it to eat. “...I’ve had better days.”

Harry looked around, making sure no one else was listening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He answered with a small huff, “I’ve talked plenty this morning.”

“Oh?”

Draco flinched as if not realizing his words. “Ah, I mean…” He looked a touch guilty before answering. “There’s this boy, Pritchard, his father was the guard on duty that got caught in the blast. I helped him get a permission slip to skip classes today; and… we talked about things.”

His heart went out to Draco and the boy he mentioned. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Can’t you?” He gave a huff. “I mean, aside from your bastard uncle, both your parents died today, too-”

That remark made Harry blink. That’s right. It’s always Halloween, isn’t it?

In his distraction, he nearly missed as Draco added, “-not to mention none of us ever got a chance to say goodbye. I mean, I know it’s a bit different since you were a baby; but… it’s a nice thought, if we knew early enough to have been given the chance.”

An odd thought crossed Harry’s mind. “...Would you like to?”

Draco, having misunderstood the question, squirmed a bit. “I’m not sure. The last thing my father ever said to me was calling me a traitor and a stain on the Malfoy name. If I had known ahead of time, and tried to visit him in some way, he likely would have said something worse. Curse me. Say it’s my fault. I’m- I’m not even sure I would have apologized.” He flushed with shame. “That makes me a bad son, doesn’t it?”

“I think,” Harry paused, scrounging up thoughts from his therapy sessions, “that that makes you a good person with complicated emotions.” The answer had Draco giving an odd look, so Harry amended. “I mean, you love him and you did the right thing; and still a year later you know that both things are true.”

“...I suppose that makes sense.”

They worked quietly for a moment, with Harry screwing his courage …or perhaps his foolishness. “Hypothetically, if I knew of a way to summon the ghost of a deceased parent on Halloween night, do you think you or that kid would be willing to try it out?”

Draco stared. His mouth opened, then closed. It opened again. The question was visible in his eyes, “Hypothetically to what degree?”

“...Not very hypothetically at all,” he said slowly. “One might even say the opposite.”

Draco gave a long pause. “...They say necromancy rituals are dangerous.”

“...What if I told you I pulled it off last Halloween?”

His jaw dropped. Draco’s face was stricken with shock! “What price does it cost?”

“It’s only temporary,” Harry cautioned, then lied, “I can only do it once per person, and you can’t look at the ritual. I need you blindfolded before they’re summoned, and for you and him to swear to never tell a soul about this. Is that worth it?”

Draco nodded hastily. “I don’t have class during third period.”

“Neither do I,” Harry said. In truth, he had the whole afternoon off. That said, his Hufflepuff babysitters will make this tricky. Unless… he has a way that’ll satisfy both parties and his own caution. “I’ll meet you inside of the girls’ second floor loo. You and your friend will have to be blindfolded and led to where we’re actually going.”

“Agreed.”

“So let me get this straight,” Melissa said slowly, “you want me to enter the tournament? No.”

“Come on, Melissa, pleeeease!” Lee begged. “We have to know if wandless magic works!”

“My arm doesn’t cuz it’s connected to me,” George added. “You’re the only one left.”

“Unless you want us to ask Harry?” Fred threatened. “He knows wandless magic, right?”

If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t. But can she take that risk?

“Ugh! Fine!” A chorus of ‘yes’s’ rejoiced. “But I’m only using a blank sheet! No names at all!”

“Works for us!”

Melissa huffed and walked with them to the Goblet of Fire. A scrap piece of paper in one hand, she swished with the other and guided the paper past the age line. It fluttered over, gently falling into the goblet, and the goblet released a red flame of acceptance. The crowd oo’ed at the result.

“Brilliant!” The twins crowed.

Among the crowd, she heard another voice comment, “Now we know how Potter will get in.”

Oh! Son of a-!

“How much do you boys bet that I can put another one in in a different way?” She said casually.

“Another way?” The trio whispered to each other conspiratorially.

George looked up, “What are the stakes?”

“Seven sickles from each of you.”

“But seven to each of us if you fail.” Fred said.

“And you have to keep your beard for the week,” Lee added.

“Deal.” She shook their hands, then took out another blank sheet of parchment. This better fucking work.

Parchment in hand, and eyes closed briefly for a muttering of hopeful nonsense, she walked across the age line … and dropped it easily into the cup.

The crowd jaw-dropped in shock!

“Sorry, boys,” Melissa giggled as she walked out, “it seems the wandless thing doesn’t matter at all. I can cross the age line no matter what.”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT!” a voice rang out from the crowd. Everyone turned to reveal Parkinson gesturing wildly. “There’s no way you can just walk in! You put some kind of demon curse on it, didn’t you?!”

Standing behind her, Runcorn paled and tugged on the other girl’s robes. “Pansy, don’t-”

“Surely you mean some kind of blessing?” Melissa teased. “Though angel blessings and demon curses aren’t something I’m in the loop on. I just had a feeling it wouldn’t affect me, and gave it a shot.” She giggled again. “Well, see you all later. Except you three. You owe me some sickles!”

The boys, though annoyed, did pay up. She thanked them graciously and walked into the Great Hall for lunch.

“I don’t get it.”

Melissa turned to find George had walked in after her. “You can put your name in, but you left the parchment blank. What gives? Don’t you want to enter?”

“Me? Ha! Not a chance!”

“But why? Your team kicked arse last year,”

“And we know you could get picked, even if you’re not taking DADA this year, ” Fred added.

“Exactly,” Melissa purred, “the Goblet would know I’m the best pick, and I’d definitely be chosen. But I don’t want any distractions with my work.”

“But it’s 1,000 galleons!” Lee said. “You could be rich!”

“Oh, Lee, I’m already on my way to riches,” she flounced, giving the trio a wink. “You think their trip to Africa was enough to stop me? I can get rich without getting into dangerous stunts.”

“But-”

She gave them a flick of a wave. “Later, boys! I’ll be busy not getting in the way of a proper champion!”

She skipped over to the Slytherin table, finding Astrid and Lev at once, and grabbed a seat across from them. “Sorry I’m late. Shall we get to planning?”

“Do we have to go down there?” Hannah whimpered. “That monster, she’s dangerous!”

“No she isn’t!” Harry snapped. “I visit her all the time and she’s never hurt me. The only time she’s hurt anyone on purpose is when she helped rescue those Slytherins from the demon two years ago.”

“What?!” Graham squeaked, head whipping blindly from under the invisibility cloak. “We’re going to see Slytherin’s Monster?! The one Gilderoy Lockhart went after?!”

“Shh!” Harry hushed, looking around to make sure Myrtle wasn’t hiding around one of the stalls. “You’ll be fine, just don’t bring attention to us!”

At his side, Draco frowned and muttered, “Since when have you known where the Chamber of Secrets is?”

Ah. Right. He never took him there because of his promise to Sirius. “Caireen, the Great Serpent, cannot speak like humans, and Gold-Deer (Lockhart) cannot use the Tongue of Speakers. I spoke for both. White-Bumblebee (Dumbledore) made me swear to keep it a secret. Favoured-Leader (Hannah), Worthy-Finch (Justin), and Handsome-River (Kevin) learned but swore to keep secret.”

It was a good enough lie, and Draco hissed a reluctant acceptance to his reasoning. “May I speak to Caireen?”

Harry gave a reluctant nod, not that Draco could see it. “Yes, but you cannot look at her, or else you’ll be petrified or killed.”

Draco swallowed nervously, but nodded. He was curious how that would go. Draco had insisted on just naming himself Dragon rather than use his full name, (especially after he tried to introduce himself to Melly as Bad-Dragon and she fell to the floor laughing in hysterics for unknown reasons), and he wondered how Caireen would react to a human named Dragon?

Harry and Hannah guided the blindfolded boys down the pipe and through the ancient hallway. Once inside, Harry called out loudly to warn Caireen of their arrival, and then they guided the boys into the entrance of the duelling arena.

“Hannah, is it alright if you stay outside with Draco for a bit? Better to give everyone privacy.”

“Alright,” she nodded.

“Let’s go talk to Slytherin’s Monster while we wait!”

“Can we not?”

“Come on, Abbott-!”

Harry closed the door behind the arguing pair. He instructed Graham to wait, “while I do the ritual”, when in actuality he spelled the door to silence and locked it. He drew random things on the floor that looked similar to rituals he’d seen in Slytherin’s Grimoire. Then, after giving himself a moment, he removed his necklace and put it in Graham’s hand. “Spin this amulet three times while saying your father’s name. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The boy gave a shaky breath. “Alright. …Simon Pritchard, Simon Pritchard, Simon Pritchard.”

That repetition wasn’t needed, but Harry didn’t bother to correct the boy as the Stone was turned. He felt the magic activate, and removed Graham’s blindfold in time for his father to shimmer into existence.

“D- Dad?”

“Graham?” He looked around in confusion. “How did you-?”

“DAD!” He leaped to hug him, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Graham was able to embrace him. “I miss you so much!”

“I miss you, too, son.” Simon said. “How have you been holding up? How’s your mum?”

Harry looked away, giving the pair the illusion of privacy as they spoke to each other. It was mostly well, but it was hard on Graham as he brought up the explosion and his anger at Pettigrew. Apparently he’d taken to killing any rat he saw for several months after the event.

“Wait, Pettigrew? That snivelling little rat? He’s the one that caused it?” At Graham’s nod, Simon muttered. “Huh. …All this time, I thought it was Malfoy that did me in.”

“Malfoy?” Graham- and Harry- asked simultaneously.

“Yeah. He was weirdly chipper about it being Halloween. Last thing I saw was his stupid grin before everything went dark. Figured that he pulled something that night.”

Chipper? Lucius Malfoy? That was an odd image to consider.

“No, he died, too,” Graham said. “Everyone died except for the witches and Pettigrew.”

“Oh yeah,” Simon mulled. “Poor Monty. She suffered pretty bad before she let go. Can’t say I blame her. Who’d want to live the rest of their life as a werewolf?”

Harry opted to ignore the question. Instead he let his mind wander while they talked. If Lucius died in a good mood, maybe things won’t be so bad between him and Draco?

Eventually things grew hard on Simon, and Harry enforced a final goodbye between the father and son before sending Simon on his way. Harry allowed Graham a moment to compose himself, before ultimately re-blindfolding the boy and sending him out. He then fetched Draco, who was in mid-conversation with Caireen (to Hannah’s chagrin), and brought him inside.

“Are you ready for this?” Harry asked carefully.

Draco shifted nervously, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Harry nodded, then proceeded to do a similar song and dance to keep up the illusion of a ritual. When he felt enough time passed, he handed the stone to Draco with the same instructions.

“I want to talk to Lucius Malfoy the second,” Draco said as he turned, “I want to see my father.”

Harry removed the blindfold, to his immediate regret.

“YOU!” Lucius hissed. “You insolent, traitorous wretch of a brat! You dare pull me from the grave after what you’ve done!”

“I-” Draco’s tongue stilled.

“Oh, but of course you would,” Lucius continued with venom, “You’re your mother’s son. No different from Black and the rest of his accursed family! If I had known his intentions I never would have listened to him!”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco uttered.

“Lies!” His eyes widened with madness, “Claim what you want, but I know the truth. He put you up to it! You wanted the Malfoy riches for yourself, didn’t you? Yes. Yes, I see it now!” He stormed over to Draco, an arm raised, ready to strike; and Draco stood too frozen to move. “But I won’t let you have it! You stole my life, my title, but now I take it back!”

“NO!” Harry leapt forward. His body shielding Draco’s as he raised an arm to force Lucius away.

Lucius froze where he stood, yet his body jerked as if in struggle, as if he were trying to move. With narrowed, calculating eyes, Harry pulled the necklace from Draco. He closed his hand into a slow fist - and Lucius’ body crunched and screamed as if in pain.

“You will NOT hurt him!” said Harry, his fist twisted, tightened his grip over the stone, and over Lucius. “You will not touch him. You will not ever harm my friends again!”

“N-n-n-n-n-no,” Lucius whimpered, staring up at Harry with true fear, “...p-p-please!”

“Draco,” Harry looked over his shoulder, his eyes dark and cold, “any final words to him?”

 The boy was shaking.

“DRACO!”

He jumped at the call. He took three nervous steps around Harry to look down at his father. The man’s face was twisted by fear and rage, and Draco swallowed. “I wish… I wish things went differently. I wish you never helped the Dark Lord. I wish you never lied. I wish…” he flicked his eyes over to Harry, then returned with sorrow as he said, “...that you were still alive. You dying in Azkaban is my only regret. I’m sorry-”

Lucius tried to rush at Draco, the boy frozen in terror at the tableau of a vengeful spirit in action.

Harry had no such reservations.

With a flick of power, Harry used the stone to push Lucius away, away from Draco, and away from the plane of the living.

His scream echoed through the arena as the spirit was vanquished from existence. Harry regarded the moment, the magic of the hallows both vicious and resolute in his heart. He could almost feel Lucius through the Stone, falling, falling, vanishing into the aether of nonexistence.

With a satisfied huff, he turned to his friend. “Draco, are you okay?”

Draco was hyperventilating, “I-” he breathed hard. “I- I don’t know.”

Harry stepped over and pulled Draco into a hug. At once, Draco burst into tears. Harry held on tighter, letting himself be a shoulder to cry on as he rubbed his friend’s back. “It’s okay. Just let it out. That’s right. You’re safe now.”

“She’s waking up!” Cedric shouted. To his relief, Melissa’s convulsions slowed in his arms.

“Oh, thank God!” Corin cried. “Mel, are you alright? Can you hear us? What happened?!”

Shuddering, Melissa pushed out of Cedric’s arms, curling into herself on the cold, classroom floor. “I…” tears pin pricked her eyes as she shut them tight, “I really don’t want to know.”

Chapter Text

The Great Hall was decorated to the max for tonight’s feast! Giant jack o’lanterns flickered with flames of ominous faces; hundreds of bats decorated the sky-charmed ceiling; the feast, though late due to the choir’s performances, came with a spread of foreign and festive treats; and all in attendance chatted happily with excited and joyful spirits.

Except, that is, for a section of the Slytherin NEWT students.

“I told you, I’m fine!” Melissa snapped at Jacqueline.

“You are not fine!” Jacqueline argued. “Cedric said you had a seizure and were crying in pain!”

“Well Cedric needs to learn to mind his own bloody business!”

“Melissa,” Domonkos said with a pleading voice, “we just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” Melissa gestured to the table. “If I wasn’t fine I’d be in the hospital wing, would I be?”

Adrian, the sole Slytherin witness, gave a snort, “That’s only because you told Madam Pomfrey that it was just a strong vision and promised to come back for a check up tomorrow morning.”

Melissa gave him a death glare. You fucking tattletale!

“You had another vision?” Amy asked. “Was it about the tournament?”

Melissa looked down at her plate with an angry look, “I’m not talking about it.”

“A vision?” That voice was Lev’s. “Vot is zat?”

Rusalka answered him in Russian, and the answer was shared in various languages across the table.

“Zat’s incredible, Melissa!” Lev said. Melissa flicked her eyes up to acknowledge him. “Not many can do vot you do. It is a gift!”

A ‘gift’, eh? Melissa huffed, “Heh. Maybe in the German sense.”

“Vot?” The boy looked confused.

She gave him a sharp, sardonic grin, “Es ist ein Gift.”

Lev, Astrid, Domonkos, and Garrick all flinched into frowns.

Astrid gave her a sympathetic look, “You see many bad things, yes?”

Melissa gave a tiny nod. The other four, thankfully, made efforts to drag the rest of her friends away from scolding her about not staying in the hospital wing. That reprieve gave her time to consider the Deathly elephant in the room.

Harry Potter, Master of Death, had done something today. Something powerful, something dangerous. She could feel it in her bones and in her time-tethered soul. She may not be a true seer or an angel-blessed saint, but what she felt a short few hours ago might as well have been an apparition of horrific proportions. It really was like standing before an Eldritch horror. Overwhelmed by its power, dwarfed by its size, in awe of Knowing- only to grow mad from losing the ability to Understand, and- at the end of it all- terrifying in the sole remaining knowledge that it has the power to snuff out your puny soul from existence.

Whatever the fuck it was, Melissa never wants to experience it again.

Yet there sits Harry, talking with fellow Hufflepuffs as if nothing was amiss.

Just what the hell did he do?!

Minutes of fearful contemplation later, goblets of mead appeared on the table. It was the silent signal the groups were waiting for.

Melissa inhaled and released a deep breath, Let it go, Mel. You have shit to do.

*POUND!*

*POUND!*

*POUND!*

*POUND!*

She slammed her fist on the table. Then again, and again. Across the four student tables, others were doing the same. All talk stopped, aside from exclamations of confusion. And then, on Flitwick’s swish, the chosen leads began to sing.

“Who do you call in to JOIN the fight,

As enemies draw closer in?

The answer, my friends, is the HONey badger,

With them you’ll always win!

Their fur may give you paaauuse,

But mess with their friends, and you’ll meeeeeeet… their claws!”

A drumming came from the tables, and the rest of the muggleborns and Frog Choir joined the tune.

“WHEN YOU MESS WITH A HONEY BADGER,

AND THREATEN THOSE THAT THEY HOLD DEAR,

THEY’LL FACE YOUR POISON, JAWS, AND TALONS,

AND TEACH YOU THE MEANING OF FEAR!

THEY’LL SHAKE OFF YOUR CRASHING BLOWS

DEVOUR YOUR MEAT, AND CRUSH… YOUR BONES!

“WITH DEADLY CLAWS AND THEIR SKIN OF STEEL,

NO BEAST CAN MATCH WITH THEIR MIGHT!

WHEN MOTIVATED NONE CAN STOP THEM,

FROM DOING WHAT IS RIGHT!

THEY’LL EMERGE FROM THEIR BURROW,

AND DESTROYING THEIR FOE’S WILL BE… THOROUGH!”

The sitting singers raised the mead goblets into the air.

“RAISE A CUP TO THE HONEY BADGER!”

It was with a grin that Melissa noticed that other students were doing the same.

“RAISE A CUP TO THE HONEY BADGER!

“WHO DO YOU CALL IN TO JOIN THE FIGHT,

AS ENEMIES DRAW CLOSER IN?

THE ANSWER, MY FRIENDS, IS THE HONEY BADGER,

WITH THEM YOU’LL ALWAYS WIN!”

The singers rose in unison and turned towards the draping banner of the Hogwarts Crest above the head table.

“RAISE YOUR MEAD UP IN TRIBUTE!

HONEY BADGERS,

WE GIVE OUR SALUTE!

“THEY’RE WHO YOU CALL TO JOIN IN THE FIGHT,

AS ENEMIES DRAW CLOSER IN!

WHEN YOU’RE A FRIEND OF THE HONEY BADGER,

YOU KNOW THAT YOU’LL ALWAYS WIN!

YES, YOU KNOW THAT YOU’LL ALWAYS WIN!

*POUND!*

*POUND!*

*POUND!*

“SALUTE!”

The song ended. With its end came the beginning of thunderous applause! Whistles, claps, and cheers rang out through the hall. The singers basked in it, or drank their tribute in honour of Hogwarts. Even Dumbledore laughed joyously, raising his own goblet to the school. Soon others at the head and student tables joined in, many shouting “SALUTE” or “TO THE HONEY BADGERS” in the process.

Melissa gave a strained smile, ignoring the pain, and allowing herself to bask in the energy of the room. She gave nods to the leaders of this prank, Professor Flitwick, Jason, Lucy, Ben, and a handful of young teens, and took in a deep drink. 

“SALUTE!”

“TO THE HONEY BADGERS!” Harry cried out, clinking glasses with Oliver and Megan in toast.

The group laughed at the spectacle of it all, and many gave Lily and Sally pats on the back. “I can’t believe you kept that from us!” Hannah exclaimed. “How long were you all planning that prank?”

“Since the start of term, practically,” Sally answered. “Professor Flitwick said it would be a great way to show school spirit.”

“And show up the other schools!” Sophie Roper called out from the Gryffindor table. The comment was followed by loud whoops from the other Gryffindors.

Megan grinned among her fellow Puffs, “Now I really hope someone in Hufflepuff gets chosen!”

“Hear! Hear!” cried Oliver.

“Me, too,” Harry nodded. On seeing some frowns, he shot Hannah, Kevin, and Wayne a glare, “Someone of age.”

They all had the decency to wince in shame.

“Right.”

“Obviously.”

“Sorry, Harry.”

Sure, now that 24 hours have passed with at least one of them keeping an eye on him or planting hexes on his stuff they’re all suddenly apologetic. Still, he didn’t feel in a forgiving mood just yet.

Some time later, the gold plates cleared, signalling the end of the feast. Chatter in the room rose with excitement, only to hush to silence as Dumbledore stood to address them. “Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision.” The other headmasters looked tense, while the other four judges looked on with excitement. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

With a grand sweeping wave of his wand, Dumbledore extinguished all of the candles in the room, save for those inside of the jack o’lanterns, plunging the hall into a semi-darkness. The darkness made the Goblet of Fire shine even brighter with its blue-white flames, and all eyes were cast upon it watching… waiting… until the flames turned red and sparked with a decision made. Dumbledore snatched the charred piece of parchment from the air, and moved so that he could read the entry from the now-white flames.

“The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum.”

The hall burst into applause at that pronouncement. Many at Hogwarts were delighted and unsurprised by the selected champion, having known the famous Bulgarian’s exploits as a world-class seeker. Though none were so excited as his own Headmaster, as Karkaroff shouted loudly over the crowd, “Bravo, Viktor! Knew you had it in you!”

Krum, in Harry’s opinion, didn’t seem shocked either. The way he walked towards the head table, slouched yet serious, Harry felt that the boy seemed… resigned, or maybe disliking the attention? Perhaps Harry could find a kindred spirit in this fellow celebrity?

He pondered on that for a moment, only to break from those thoughts as the Goblet went red once again. He leaned in close as Dumbledore read the next name. “The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!”

Harry frowned, but gave a polite applause. He looked over to the Beauxbatons contingent, giving a sympathetic look to Ornella as she faced rejection from the tournament. She was sad, he could tell. Still, she was handling it much better than some of the others. Two girls were outright sobbing into their arms, being consoled by Jean-Luc and some of the quidditch players who didn’t want to compete.

Then again, Harry thought, Madeline said Fleur Delacour is their reserve seeker, right? Her and Krum… maybe seekers are the best pick for this tournament? …Oh, god, is that why I could get chosen over someone of age?! Panic lanced through him at the thought. Still, he had to assure himself that No, he won’t be forced into this tournament. Dumbledore put in the age line, and not a single underage person has managed to pull it off.

…Except for Melly, for some reason. But she didn’t actually enter, apparently. That, and she’d never put his name in. …Right? Not after making such a big deal about keeping him away from the Goblet?

Another name fired out of the Goblet, and Harry prayed that his fears wouldn’t come to pass.

“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore said, “is Cedric Diggory!”

“YES!”

The Hufflepuffs burst into thunderous applause. Cheers rang out for Cedric in a seemingly unending wave.

“GO CEDRIC!”

“KNEW IT WOULD BE YOU!”

“HONEY BADGERS, FOREVER!”

“MAKE US PROUD!”

More cheers followed the older teen as he walked down the hall, waving and smiling to everyone as he passed.

“Thank god, she was wrong!” Harry cried jubilantly. He turned to some of the others, “You have no idea how terrified I was thinking someone would put my name in!”

“I was!” Wayne said, then laughed. “Sorry, again, about all of that. Guess we were wrong, then?”

Okay, Harry was willing to give one small smile. “Obviously. So now that makes three seekers as Champions. I can bet what sort of tasks they’re going to do.”

“Oh!”

“Wait, what?”

He explained his theory to the others as the cheers continued on. They had to stop, of course, once Dumbledore managed to quiet everyone down.

“Excellent! Well, now we have our three champions,” Dumbledore said with a wide smile. “I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-” his voice cut off, distracted by the Goblet of Fire …as it sparked red once again.

Oh- oh god!

“Oh no!” Hannah gasped.

Another piece of parchment shot out of the Goblet! Dumbledore reached forth and snagged the wayward piece. He looked down at the parchment, and several looked to Harry as the boy’s body filled with dread.

He didn’t have to hear what Dumbledore was about to say- the man’s alarmed look said it all- yet still he cleared his throat and said the two words Harry didn’t wish to hear, “Harry Potter.”

This can’t be happening!

And yet it is.

With closed eyes, Harry gave a small groan. He could already hear the accusatory whispers around him. Feeling resolute, he opened his eyes and looked over at Hannah, Wayne, and Kevin. “Just so we’re clear, you can all confirm that at least one of you has been with me for the past twenty-four hours, right?”

They nodded nervously. “Yeah?”

“Good. Tell them that!”

He forced himself out of the seat as the Headmaster called his name again. That said, he wasn’t ready to leave. Instead, he pointed a finger at Melody, who looked about as upset as he was, and said loudly, “JUST FOR THE RECORD, MELODY, I HATE IT WHEN YOU’RE RIGHT.”

“BELIEVE ME, HOUDINI,” she called back, “SO AM I.”

Harry marched forward, doing his best to ignore everyone’s staring and frowns as he walked down the hall. He gave a small glare at Dumbledore as he passed him, unable to hold back his voice as, “I warned you,” snarled out of him. Still, he did not falter, he marched on, reached the antechamber, and shut the door behind him.

“Well, Bennett, when you’re right, you’re right!” Jacinth laughed over the Wireless playing music in the common room. “Two Honey Badgers for champions! Who’d have thought?!”

“I expected one,” Domonkos teased.

“Same here,” a seventh year girl said.

Cassius gave the three a glare, as did a few seventh years who were unappreciative of the absent votes of confidence for their house. “You can’t be serious, Jace!”

“Come on, Cass,” Jacinth laughed into his glass. “Between that song prank and her visions, you can’t say it wasn’t expected.”

Melissa was moping into her own glass, “I was hoping it’d just be Cedric. This is bullshit!”

“You’re damn right!” A seventh year shouted. “I don’t care if he’s the Boy-Who-Lived, or friends with the Heir, Potter weaselling his way into the tournament shouldn’t be allowed!”

“He didn’t, but you’re right,” Melissa muttered.

Domonkos gave her a suspicious look, “Are you sure he didn’t enter?”

“Positive,” she clipped.

“Definitely not,” Draco added, entering the conversation. “Harry told me he has no interest in entering.” Draco smiled, “If anything, I think he’d sooner pull something on Diggory or Chang so that he can get onto the quidditch team.”

“Say, there’s a good idea!” Graham Montague shouted. “With Diggory and Potter as champions, we’re stuck with Chang. We should hex her and convince Hooch to get Malfoy on the team!”

Shouts of encouragement rang out, and a large part of the room converged toward Montague to plot ways of getting Chang out of the quidditch equation.

With that distraction, no one noticed as another seventh year moved to stand innocuously beside Melissa. “Here,” the boy muttered, sliding a small coin purse into her hand. “Splitting your bets to give the illusion of an uncertain future. Bold move, Bennett.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Melissa answered with (false) resigned innocence. “I can’t imagine anyone seeing something like this coming.”

“Sure, Bennett. Whatever you say.”

The bookie walked off, and Melissa tucked the purse out of sight. The tiniest of smiles graced her face in the process. (Hey, just because she didn’t like the outcome, doesn’t mean she should lose money out of it!)

Melissa got up and walked over to grab another butterbeer-

-Then fell to the floor in a state of convulsions.

“What in Merlin’s name-?!”

“IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!”

“MELISSA?!”

“SOMEONE GET PROFESSOR SNAPE!”

“Melissa!” Jacqueline raced over, lifting her head off the ground and shouting orders Melissa could no longer hear as sensations overwhelmed her.

Void.

Death.

Terrifying.

Embracing.

An Eldritch force.

An Old Friend.

Everything went black.

It felt like an eternity before she could hear voices again.

“Bennett! Bennett, can you hear my voice?”

Her body shook from the cold. Her face was wet. Her throat felt raw. An emptiness raked her back, its vast claws gripping her spine whole, pulling her, beckoning her to fall further.

But she doesn’t want to fall. She wants to flee!

She wants to LIVE!

A gasp of life filled her lungs! Her body shuddered violently with fear and small relief. Her vision cleared, and she found herself under a ring of fearful students, and Severus Snape kneeling over her with genuine concern.

“Bennett, are you alright?” …She was unable to answer. Her brain could barely comprehend her own state. “Can you tell me what happened?”

What happened?

Happened?

Her mind flickered to the cold, to the void. It wasn’t gone. No. She could still feel it. No longer gripping her in a vice but still… somewhere. Its presence was like a beacon, shimmering not down but up as though… as though it were here, somewhere in the castle. Inside of Hogwarts!

Just like that, there was Understanding through the madness.

“Harry claimed the wand.”

“What?”

Her voice was a hoarse whisper, one only Snape could hear; but she had to say it, say SOMETHING before horror’s madness took its toll!

“I can feel it through the bond-” her breath gasped greedily for life and air. “He has full control- as Master of Death…” she begged for understanding, yet the man seemed confused. She needs him to UNDERSTAND! “Harry has the Elder Wand!”

After depositing the girl into Poppy’s trusting care, Severus marched over to Albus’ office and banged on it loudly.

“There’s no need to be so abrasive, Severus. Come inside.”

Oh, he went in alright! He stormed right over to Albus, uncaring of the old man’s own despondent face as he shouted at him, “Tell me you did not give the DEATH STICK to a FOURTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD!”

Albus had the audacity to look shocked by this statement, “How do you know about that? Mister Potter left here not twenty minutes ago.”

Blast! The bumbling old fool!

“Because while you were surrendering the most dangerous wand known to man to a child,” he reiterated, “our death-touched seer had a fit in the middle of the common room!”

Albus paled. “How many heard her?”

Severus scoffed, “Only myself, I hope. Though I’m certain she would have shouted it to the Heavens if she had the capacity.”

“And she gave you a prophecy?”

He paused before answering, “Not a prophecy, per se, though it certainly followed a structured form.” It was the form of a Japanese Tanka, yet it rhymed like her known prophecy, and it came out in a rasp so like Sybill’s had all those years ago. So, yes, Severus felt certain that it counted as far as the seer’s visions go. He took a breath and recited what the girl told him.

“Harry claimed the wand,

I can feel it through the bond,

He has full control,

As Master of Death,

Harry has the Elder Wand.”

It was a long moment before Albus spoke.

“He has full control… as Master of Death.” Albus lowered slowly into his seat. “...To have full control, that would suggest that the boy has possession of the Resurrection Stone.”

“Does he?!” Severus asked earnestly. Surely that’s impossible, isn’t it?! Between the Wand and the Stone, Severus wasn’t sure which concept terrified him more. …That, or Master of Death. Yes. That’s the most terrifying aspect of this whole situation.

“I have no idea,” Albus answered. “Surely a magic so potent would be noticed.” He looked over to phoenix’s empty perch. “Then again, Fawkes did leave rather abruptly just before Potter arrived at my office.”

A phoenix who embraces a reincarnated muggle as a friend, and flees from a fourteen year old child with the powers of death itself. Now isn’t that a twisted turn of events?

“Have you noticed anything strange about the boy?” Albus asked.

“No, I have not.” A thought then occurred to him, “Pierce did inform me that this was Bennett’s second seizure today. Pucey confirmed that the second was far worse than the first.”

Albus’ eyebrows knitted to a frown. “When was this?”

“Third period. Is it relevant?”

Albus pulled out a folder of parchments and looked it over. “The fourth year Hufflepuffs had the afternoon off. He had free reign to do as he wished during that time.”

To sneak himself into the tournament, or to use the stone? Perhaps even both?

Oh, Potter, what have you done!

“Mister Potter has assured me that he has witnesses who can confirm his whereabouts for the entirety of the day. That said, I wouldn’t mind doing a small amount of investigating to confirm those alibis.”

“And what good does that do us?” Severus asked. “If the boy has all three, who knows what destruction could be wrought!”

“Perhaps, but hopefully they will be at the right target.”

Severus blinked in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve seen the same signs as I have, even more than I have, in fact,” he gestured at Severus’ arm, where the slowly darkening Dark Mark resided. “If Voldemort is returning, as I have long feared, the boy must be prepared for what’s to come. The Master of Death… death, which Voldemort flees from. Perhaps that is exactly the power Harry needs to conquer this foe?”

He wasn’t sure whether or not to be worried about Albus’ desire to throw the boy into the Dark Lord’s line of fire. “Or the ammunition to bring about more death than any of us can imagine.”

“Do you believe Harry desires using these abilities for the sake of destruction?”

“...No, but one can never be certain of the future, especially with the boy being forced to compete in the tournament.”

“That is true.” He gave a wistful smile, “Though I am confident that Sight towards the future is truly on our side.”

Chapter Text

The moment Harry left Dumbledore’s office and donned his cloak, the magic was instantaneous! He could feel it coursing through him, this power, this greatness! It came like the relief of a scratch to an itch that he never knew he had; or healing from a pain long habituated. Perhaps it would seem strange to others, but for once in his life Harry felt… complete.

Strange. An hour ago he had been furious. Furious at Dumbledore for his arrogance, at Bagman for his cheerfulness, even at Karkaroff for thinking he cheated and Fleur for calling him a ‘little boy’. Yet now, he felt incredible! Invincible! Like nothing could ever hurt him again!

He walked through the hallways smiling. His invisible presence passed by others as they talked about him, about the dangers of the tournament, and the other champions. He didn’t care about the dangers, though. He’ll try to help Cedric, of course, since he’s the real champion; but Harry doesn’t have to worry about himself. He’s the Master of Death! Nothing can bring him down!

Tuesday, November 1st, 1994

Melissa awoke to warmth. A calm to combat the shivers. She glanced to her left to find herself laying in a hospital bed, with the first rays of dawn breaking through the windows. Then she looked forward, to see a dear friend nestled on her belly.

“Good morning, Fawkes. You look,” she frowned, “surprisingly awful.”

“I’m afraid he’s been quite unwell since last night.”

Melissa jerked her head, surprised to find Albus Dumbledore standing to the right of her bed. She moved to push herself upward.

“Now, now, please don’t push yourself. Rest easy, my dear. You gave everyone quite a scare yesterday.”

Her arms relaxed and slid back against the bed. She moved one of them again, but just to pet Fawkes’ de-plumed skin. She tried to think about why Dumbledore was here, of all places; but then her thoughts recalled the night before and dread filled her with answers.

Fawkes gave her a weakened croon in an effort of solidarity. The sounds made her want to cry. You feel it too, huh, buddy?

In her silence, Dumbledore watched her carefully. “Miss Bennett, do you know how Harry’s name was chosen by the Goblet of Fire?”

Melissa shook her head, keeping her eyes on Fawkes.

“But you did know he would be selected, yes?”

“I - I worried he would. I saw-” She looked at him earnestly, “they’re not making him fight a dragon, are they?”

The man winced, confirming her ‘fears of the vision’. “I cannot give away what’s to be expected for the tasks. However the tournament does not bar assistance from fellow students.”

She gave a curt nod, then returned her attention to Fawkes. The poor thing. “It’s barely been two years. Do phoenixes always finish their lives this quickly?”

“No,” he answered. “In fact, he was perfectly healthy until a fortnight ago, and yesterday he experienced a drastic bout of molting. …I suspect you know why.”

Of course I do, and of course he knows about it already!

“...Why did you give him the Elder Wand? You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Alas, that was an error in judgement on my part. Mister Potter demanded I ensure he does not enter the tournament, wagering ownership of the wand as compensation should I fail in my duty. After last night, I had no choice. The wand worked against me once he stated his case, and it did not stop until the deal was done.”

So he only got it because I warned him?! Fuck my life!

“What’s done is done, I guess.”

“If I may ask, how did young Mister Potter come to possess the Resurrection Stone? That item has been lost to time.”

“Heh,” she gave a huff. “You’re asking me? You’re the one that found it!”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Um, that thing with the ring,” she explained sleepily. “You find a ring- with a curse- and a stone- in the snitch. That’s a thing, right?”

For a long moment both looked at each other in confusion. At last, Dumbledore’s eyebrows raised, and he leaned forward. “Are you referring, perhaps, to the ring owned by Marvolo Gaunt? The one hidden in his home in Little Hangleton?”

Melissa was genuinely confused now. “You found it in Little Hangleton? That’s where he hid it?!”

“It’s where Tom hid his horcrux, yes. However, the ring was destroyed. Marcello had-” realization dawned on him, “he had taken its stone!”

“And given it to Harry when he visited him in Italy, I suppose?”

Dumbledore’s shock was palpable. The man genuinely had no idea until now about the ring’s gem at the time of retrieval. An opportunity lost, for certain. “Do you have reason to believe Mister Potter will pose a danger with this newfound power?”

“I’m… not really sure. Honestly this is very unknown territory we’re dealing with here. That said, Harry isn’t the type of person to harm the innocent. I think what’s happening to me and Fawkes is accidental …residual. You know?”

“I hope you are right, and that these effects are temporary.” He looked at both the girl and phoenix with soft concern. “If you need anything, please let me know. Good day, Miss Bennett.” He got up and left the room, leaving the other two to contemplate this situation.

“So,” she clicked her tongue, “how bad is the pain?”

Croon

“Oof! It’s that bad, huh?” The bird crooned back. “Damn. I’m sorry, Fawkes.” She contemplated their situation a bit. “Don’t suppose you have any ideas of how to make this easier, eh?”

Crow-croon?

“Yeah, I suppose that could help. It’d have to be pretty powerful though, right? How do you even make one to combat the energy of Death itself?”

Trill, cr-croon, twoo-

“You cannot be serious!” she said flatly. On hearing his affirmative, she clipped, “That sounds insane.”

He squawked indignantly, forcing her to back off and actually consider the proposal.

“And you’re absolutely sure this won’t hurt?” She gave a slow sign as he gave his assurance. “If you say so. …You’re a good friend, Fawkes. Never let anyone doubt that.”

Trill!

With a sound that almost sounded like a smile, Fawkes hopped closer to nuzzle the girl’s cheek. Then, with small preparation, and smaller gifts of feathers and tears, Fawkes leapt onto a nearby metal food tray, and promptly burst into flame.

The Hufflepuffs had been up late partying, celebrating the win of their TWO Champions. Cedric and Harry had both been prompted for speeches, and Harry took no time to stand above the rest, declaring both his innocence and his full support for Cedric. It got many cheers, and even some support for Harry himself. Cedric then proclaimed that he and other older students would be sure to help Harry survive the tournament. Harry felt he wouldn't need that help, but still accepted the offer out of respect to the Champion. All in all, it was a fun night, and led to Hufflepuffs standing together stronger than ever!

In the morning there were interesting reactions from the rest of the school, especially as Cedric asked Harry to join him at the table. People applauded their entrance into the Great Hall, though Harry could tell from the whispers that several still doubted him. Just to be cheeky, he gave those people a smile and wave, enjoying their bewildered or embarrassed looks in the process.

He finished breakfast with a handshake to Cedric, then headed off to his first class of the day: History of Magic. A perfect choice, as that class is as good a chance as any to sleep more after yesterday’s celebrations.

That’s what he thought, at least, until Professor Binns approached him at the start of class.

“Excuse me, young Sir,” he floated closer to Harry, his eyes wide behind his ghostly lenses.

“Yes?”

“I-” The ghost seemed to stutter on having Harry’s full attention. “Oh! Oh my, ah, I do apologize, but who are you?”

“I’m Harry. Harry Potter. Fourth-Year Hufflepuff.”

“I, yes, of course, Mister Potter; but- dare I ask, what are you?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. Others, both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, looked bewildered at the odd question. Though for Harry, it was less of a what or why in his mind, and more of an ‘Oh shit!’

“He’s the Fourth Triwizard Champion!” Megan shouted happily, slinging an arm over Harry’s shoulder in good cheer, “And he’s going to kick everyone’s arse, aren’t you, Harry?”

“You bet!” He said with a strained grin. “Professor, perhaps after class I can ask you some questions about Triwizard Tournaments in the past?”

“I- yes, yes of course!” Professor Binns exclaimed, a shock in itself as that was probably the loudest anyone’s ever heard the ghost speak. “Whatever you wish, Sir. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Harry walked over to the furthest seat available, next to his fellow VATIC member.

“What was that about?” Stephen Cornfoot whispered.

“Not fully sure,” Harry answered. “I’ll ask him after class.”

True to his word, that’s exactly what he did.

“Professor,” Harry approached after the last student left, “what is it about me that has you on edge?”

On edge he was, indeed, as the ghost seemed to fidget in his presence. “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Explain anyways.”

The man shivered upright. “You have a commanding presence, young Sir. As if anything you say, I’d be willing to do, or unwilling, perhaps.”

“Unwilling?” The thought made Harry nervous. “Like what?”

Professor Binns pulled his lips into a thin line before answering. “I don’t wish to move beyond, Sir. I enjoy teaching, and we’re only in the middle of the first term. It would be cruel to rob the students of their professor in the middle of the school year!”

Harry raised his hands in front of him, “Wait- wait, hold on a second! Are you saying that, since I’m the Master of Death, I can force ghosts into the afterlife?!”

“It… certainly feels that way,” said Professor Binns. “Forgive me, I’m not entirely sure, myself, but I feel as though it is the likely course. The Master of Death, you say?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “I claimed the wand last night, like in the legend.”

“Legend?” The Professor frowned. “I have no interest in legends, Sir.”

“Well, this legend is actually a fact. Pretty obviously, considering how you’re reacting to me.”

If ghosts could pale, Professor Binns certainly would have at this moment. “Yes. Quite right.”

A moment of pause fell, and Harry considered this odd turn of events. A commanding presence, he said. “Tell no one alive about this. You can warn the other castle ghosts about the change, but I don’t want anyone else to find out about it.”

“Yes, Sir, as you wish,” Professor Binns nodded vigorously.

The ghost’s reaction brought up a second, obvious issue to the forefront. “Also, there’s no need to call me Sir, Professor. Just ‘Mister Potter’ or ‘Harry’ is fine. Tell the other ghosts that, too.”

“Very well, Sir- I mean, very well, Mister Potter. I’ll tell the other ghosts straight away!” The Professor flew straight into the blackboard towards the rest of the castle, off to spread the word.

You know, this could be good for me. Though he’ll need time to consider what all being the Master of Death entails. Who knows, maybe it will help with the tournament? It was with that thought that he walked out of the classroom-

-Straight into Pucey, Pierce, Flinton, and Ignatov.

“Oh. Hello.”

“Hello, Potter.”

He looked around briefly in confusion. “If you’re looking for Binns, he just left.”

“We know,” Flinton said.

Nervous, Harry gulped. “Are you all heading to class?”

“No, we have our second period off.”

“Well, I don’t,” Ignatov said, “I have Divination. Melissa does, too. Except she can’t go today, on account of being in the hospital wing and all.”

“What?! What happened?!”

“According to her,” Pierce said evenly, “you happened.”

What?! “What are you talking about?”

“‘Harry has the Elder Wand’,” said Pierce, and Harry was struck with shock! “That’s what she said, anyways, when she got halfway out of a seizure last night. I had no idea what that meant, so a few of us got to talking and decided to ask you about it.”

“I know the story about the Elder Wand,” Pucey said, “but obviously that’s just a story, right?”

“Except, wouldn’t you know it,” Flinton stepped in, “we came here to find you, only to hear you and Binns talking about how you ‘claimed the wand last night’, and what it’s like to be the ‘Master of Death’.”

Ignatov raised a finger to the others, “Nott said something about that last year. The demons had warned him that the Master of Death is close to her. They must’ve known this would happen!”

“Wait, wait, hold on!” Harry shouted. “I have no idea what you guys are talking about-!”

“And it makes sense!” Ignatov continued over him. “I always thought it was about Azrael, the Angel of Death, since he’s the one that took Mel’s soul to her parents; but what if they were talking about you?!”

“What?!” Harry has always been (mostly) certain all that stuff Lockhart wrote about Melly was a bunch of nonsense to sell his books.

“Holy Hecate!” Pucey shouted. “That’s how you got into the tournament, isn’t it?! You used the Elder Wand on the Goblet in the afternoon! THAT’S why she had that seizure during Runes!”

“No I didn’t! I never put my name in- wait, did you say in the afternoon? I thought you said last night?”

“She did have a seizure last night,” Pierce said.

“And halfway into third period,” Pucey added, “but not as bad as the one from last night.”

Third period-?

During his time off-

When he used the Resurrection Stone-

And forced Lucius Malfoy back into the afterlife!

“Oh god,” he voice came in a hush. “I have to go and apologize-”

Ignatov and Flinton stood in his way. “You are going to do nothing of the sort!”

“You stay away from her, Potter,” Flinton said threateningly. “I don’t care what she says about you, there is no way you’re getting within ten feet of her.”

“Or fifty,” Ignatov scoffed. “The witch has suffered enough thanks to you. Kidnapped by Quirrell-”

“Being her boggart-” Pucey added.

“Making deals with demons thanks to your parseltongue grimoire-” Ignatov continued.

“Not to mention all of the bullying she went through in third year just from being friends with you,” Pierce said fiercely. “We’ve done what we can to protect her, and we still do; but we can’t protect her forever when one of her supposed best friends puts her in a state every time he does some freaky death magic!”

Every word was like a sword through the heart. He… He knows that the Hallows creep her out, but she’s worn the cloak before, right? But the stone, and the wand, and everything else they were saying to him. …Is he really responsible for so much pain in Melly’s life?

“But- I have to do something-”

“All you have to do,” Flinton said, “is nothing. No hellos, no visits, no doing anything that will hurt her.”

“Just focus on being Champion Number Four,” Pucey suggested. “That ought to take up all of your time, anyways. Just stick with the Badgers and let us Snakes take care of our own.”

The witches nodded in agreement.

Harry, on the other hand, struggled. “Alright,” he lied, “I’ll keep my distance.”

“Good.”

“You’d better.”

Having left his Hallows safe in his trunk, Harry snuck down to see Melly after Astronomy class. He was confident that no one would be around, as it was after curfew, and crept into the hospital wing with a steady heart.

He found Melly asleep in her bed; and, in that moment, he understood Ignatov’s words.

She had been delivered by Azrael, the angel of death; because, once upon a time, Melody had died.

Chapter Text

Rewind, Monday August 16th, 1993

After her release, the following two days were mostly spent sleeping, gorging on chocolate, and spending time with her parents. These next few days are meant to be dedicated to visits from both sides of the family, who will no doubt coo over her poor state after spending months in a “coma” a.k.a Azkaban.

Before they can do that, however, Melissa has to answer a summons from the Minister of Magic himself.

“Don’t worry,” Ted Tonks said calmly as he guided her through the Atrium, “whatever he wants to speak to you about, I’ll be right here with you.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly. Honestly, she was just so exhausted. An actual coma sounds like a great idea right about now. Instead, she had to once again go through reception giving her flack for not having a wand, harsh finger-pointing and whispers from political staff, and harsher looks from aurors as she and her law-wizard made their way up to Level One.

“Minister Fudge is just at another meeting,” the secretary advised. “He’ll be returning shortly.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” they each said politely, taking a seat in the hallway to bide their time. Melissa sat listlessly, staring out at the endless row of mahogany doors in the large hallway. Her shoes brushed against the carpet below her, so thick and a nice shade of purple, and she had to hold back a compulsion to lay on the thick carpet in lieu of an actual bed.

Her thoughts were interrupted as one of the doors slammed open. A middle-aged woman wearing a pink, business-like dress stormed out of an office clenching a sheet of parchment in her hand.

“Imelda! I need to see Cornelius immediately!”

“Is there a problem, Dolores?”

“Yes, there’s a problem! What’s this I’m hearing about pushback on our werewolf legislation?!”

“You’ll have to speak with Cornelius when he returns from-”

Melissa didn’t care about what they were talking about. What she cared about was the speaker herself.

Dolores. Dolores Umbridge.

Oh, she smiled darkly, I can use this. Yes… Now how to do it…?

A plan formed quickly, and she schooled her expression as needed. Not one of calm, but of shock and horror! She stared at the pink-wrapped toad. She stared and stared, letting her eyes fall glassy with imagination. Then finally, finally, the woman caught her.

Umbridge glowered, “It’s rude to stare, you know.”

Melissa didn’t move a millimetre.

“Melissa?” With a voice of concern, Ted gently shook her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She broke out of her ‘trance’, sputtering. “Uh- Wh- What? Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you alright?” He asked again.

“Uh-” she winced with fear. “Yeah, sorry, I just thought I saw-” at that moment she ‘re-noticed’ Umbridge, and let her face fall in surprise, then concern. “It’s-” She looked away with an expression of guilt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, Mister Tonks.”

“That’s alright, Melissa. Just take it easy, alright?”

She nodded mutely, looking down at her lap instead of making eye contact with the adults. She did manage to hear a scoff as Umbridge muttered about how, “Children have no respect,” but otherwise the room went momentarily quiet.

The awkward silence only abated as the Minister stepped out of the elevator. The secretary took charge as Umbridge began to do a fake cough for attention, “Minister Fudge, Miss Bennett and Mister Tonks are here for their appointment.”

“Yes, thank you, Imelda. Hello, hello, to you both! I do apologize for the wait. I was just in a delightful meeting with Bagman and Wilkins about some exciting ideas for next year-”

“Cornelius,” Umbridge said sweetly, her wide smile as fake as her tone, “I need just a quick word from you about this alarming notice I’ve gotten about our werewolf legislation-”

“I’m afraid it will have to wait, Dolores,” he looked over at Melissa with a …almost with a hunger in his eyes. “Once this meeting is done you’ll have my full attention.”

The woman’s face twitched before simpering, “I understand. Thank you, Cornelius.”

“My pleasure. Now, come along, you two, come along.” Fudge gestured for the pair to follow him into his office.

Melissa, however, walked slowly after them. Partially out of weakness, partially so that she could be in Umbridge’s hearing. With large, sorrowful eyes, she whispered to Umbridge in a voice hushed with concern, “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright,” the woman said in a frosty tone. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She looked slightly relieved, but still held some concern, “It’s- well, I saw you-”

“Melissa,” Ted called out, “don’t keep the Minister waiting!”

“R-right! Sorry!” She gave a last glance at Umbridge, muttering an ashamed, “Sorry,” as she walked into the Minister’s office.

Behind her, Umbridge muttered, “What on earth is wrong with that girl?”

“You know who that is, don’t you?” Imelda said in a gossiping tone, the rest of her words were muffled from her hearing as Ted closed the door.

On the inside, Melissa relished in the words. Bait, set!

“Don’t be shy now, have a seat,” Minister Fudge offered chairs to the two of them, which each took with thanks. He looked over to Ted, “And, you are…?”

“Ted Tonks, Miss Bennett’s law wizard,” he answered. “As Miss Bennett is a minor, and a muggleborn, she requested that a familiar adult wizard be present for this meeting. Particularly as the reason for her summons was not outright stated.”

The Minister looked mildly surprised, though he recovered quickly. “Ah, yes, of course. Well, not to worry, there are no legal matters to discuss today.” He chuckled as if he told some sort of joke. He leaned forward with hands clasped, looking gleefully conspiratorial. “Now, you’ve proven yourself to be quite adept as a seer. As such, I am hoping you can do a reading for me about the rest of my tenure as Minister.”

Seriously? Well that’s going to be tricky. Does she even remember anything about how his term ends? Is he the one that gets killed in book seven? No, wait, didn’t shit go down at the end of book five when Dumbledore and Voldemort had that big showdown?

“Of course,” he continued, not waiting to hear an answer from her as he got up and walked to a shelf full of trinkets, “I’ve prepared several divination tools you can use. Are you better with cards or with the crystal ball?”

“Ah,” shit, there’s no way I can lie about that, “I’ve never tried them. I don’t take divination class.”

“What? Preposterous!” The man sputtered, letting the crystal ball fall back onto its cushion. “An egregious scheduling error, no doubt! Then again, the Board of Governors have said that the staff and scheduling will be a problem next year. I ought to speak to Albus, we need to resolve this error immediately-”

“If you’d like,” because lord knows she doesn’t need Dumbledore having another go at mucking up her schedule, “I can try another way. Usually it happens at random, but sometimes if I hold a person’s hand and focus, I can get some flashes.”

“Ah! Marvellous!” Fudge practically skipped back to his desk.

As he did, Melissa’s mind raced over what to say. She’s pretty sure that he loses an election or resigns because of the Voldemort thing, but she can’t possibly get away with saying the truth. A simple lie would also be boring. So… maybe she can turn this into an advantage of some sort?

“Here, my dear,” he offered his hand to her. “Be sure to focus on my career, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” She clasped his hand between both of her own, well aware of Ted’s cautious eyes on them. Something useful. He denies Voldemort’s return, even with attacks and witnesses. There’s something about whomever is disguised as Moody. He’ll blame Cedric’s death as an accident. Fucking prick- oh, there’s an idea!

It took another long minute of a plan formulating, Fudge’s hand clammy against her own, before she opened her eyes with a worried frown.

“Well?” He asked. “What do you see?”

“Uh… I’m not sure if there’s a gentle way to ask this, but are you planning to resign before the next election?”

“What?” His hand yanked away. “Of course not!”

“Perhaps you should explain what you saw,” Ted said calmly. His eyes looked amused at the exchange.

“Well, it’s just, I saw you in a press conference saying just that,” she explained. “You didn’t look that much older than you do now, so I thought…”

“But why?” Fudge moaned loudly. “What could possibly happen to make me ever want to resign?”

“Some sort of international incident, from the sounds of it,” she answered. She then offered her hands, “May I?”

With a nervous sigh, Fudge consented to a deeper reading. She closed her eyes and focused her mind, trying to remember voices, holding them in a way to fake what she once did true.

Then her head twitched in action. “Now, now, everyone calm down!” she spoke aloud with Fudge’s cadence, “No one can say for sure exactly how the boy died.”

“Of course not, Monsieur Fudge! Zat is because no one could see anyzing!”

“Now, now, Madame, what Cornelius is trying to say-”

“Non, Dumbly-dorr! I will not stand for zis!”

“She’s right, Dumbledore,” She threw on a new accent for this one. “Pretend all you like, but this was no accident. The boy was murdered! Do you think our Ministries will stand for this?!”

Melissa let go of his hand, throwing her back against the chair in wide-eyed shock. “Ho-ly fuck!” She blinked at Fudge with those wide eyes. “Okay, that was unexpected.”

“What happens?!” Ted asked, “Who died?”

“I’m not sure. A boy- a champion- but at Hogwarts?”

Fudge paled. “Oh dear!”

“You know what she’s talking about,” Ted stated in an accusatory tone.

Fudge shifted nervously, “Ah, well, you see-” he swallowed nervously, “it’s all hush-hush at the moment, but I’ve been arranging for a restart of the Triwizard Tournament.”

“The what?”

Oh. Right. Ted’s muggleborn, too.

“The issue isn’t this tournament,” Melissa said slowly, as if to herself, “the issue is that no one can see what’s happening. A maze, or… underwater… a task that’s obscured from witnesses. Because of that, the fur-clad man and the tall lady suspect foul play.”

Fudge released a deep breath, “Ludo mentioned an idea involving Black Lake. Of course! I’ll speak to him immediately! And I’ll have Chrysanthos work on better relations with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to keep in their Headmasters’ good graces. There will be no deaths on my watch!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ted said testily.

“Ah,” Fudge looked back at Melissa, as if he had forgotten about her, “thank you, my dear. Be sure to keep in touch!”

“As you wish, sir.” Noooo, thank you! But while we’re on the subject… “Um, if I can offer some advice, I think the exchange students would be able to bond with us better by sharing classes with us, or having quidditch games together. Maybe they’d even stand up against their headmasters should things go bad.”

The idea brought a gleam to Fudge’s eye. “Brilliant idea! I’ll pass the thought along to Ludo. Come now, no time to lose!” 

They were marshalled out the door, Fudge eager to race down the hall to talk to whomever he needs to talk to, waving off Umbridge’s second speaking attempt in the process.

Seer Talk One, complete. Seer Talk Two…

Umbridge twisted in step to stare down at Melissa. “Miss Bennett, is it? If I could have a word?”

It was hardly a request, her tone entirely stating it as an order. Melissa gave her a shy nod and walked right over to her, following her into her office, giving no care that Ted was trying to enter the room, too. Umbridge shooed him off, and Melissa had to give reassurances to calm the man down. He eventually relented, and soon Melissa was alone in a room with Dolores Umbridge.

Delightful.

“Now,” the woman sat primly at her desk, “you are going to tell me exactly what you saw when you looked at me.”

“I- I’m sorry, it was an accident-”

“I don’t care about that!” She snapped. “What- did you- see?”

Melissa’s whole countenance was one of shame. “Something terrible. Something you should never have to go through.”

“Enough vague words! Out with it, girl!”

“Right, sorry, it’s just…” she took a deep breath, successfully pulling off glistening tears as she opened her eyes. “I saw you outside, near a wood or a forest. A group of wizards accost you. You tell them that you’re there on Ministry business, but they don’t care. They laugh at you, disarm you, and-” she gave a painful gasp- “they rip your clothes off, and- and-” her eyes shut, “it’s awful!” She looked back up at Dolores, who looked wary and distrustful. “No woman deserves to go through that!”

Umbridge stared at her, hard. “Who are they?”

“I don’t recognize their faces,” Melissa answered. “A redhead, two blonds, three had dark hair. Most were tall and-” her face flushed scarlet, “and, um, big.”

“Tall and big?” Umbridge said slowly with annoyance.

Melissa nodded, still flush, pointing downward as she said. “Yeah, um, big.” She snapped her head up. “Sorry! That was indecent! Forget that I said that part! I’ve never seen one before and there's were- oh, Merlin, forget I said all of that!” She hid her face shamefully.

It seemed to make an impression, however, as Umbridge sounded less suspicious. “You say this is Ministry business, when it happens?”

“I- I don’t know if the Ministry business is about those men, or just about why you’re somewhere outside near a forest-”

A loud knock on the door interrupted, and Ted opened the door without a ‘by your leave’. “Excuse me, Madam Undersecretary, but I need to return Miss Bennett home immediately.”

“Ah, yes. Us girls were just finishing our talk,” Umbridge said with a smile.

“Right,” Melissa let out a shaky breath. Still, it’s as good an opening as any, so she stood up and gave the bitch a worried, yet hopeful look. “Please stay safe, Ma’am. Goodbye!”

She bolted out of the door, allowing Ted to take over and keep Umbridge at bay. When they got into the elevator, Melissa released another shaky breath.

“What was that about?” He asked.

“Hopefully, I just prevented a future disaster,” she answered. An answer he was willing to accept.

Because, lord know, if that bitch ever lays a hand (or blood quill) on Harry …she’ll have to find a way to kill the bitch and hide the body to avoid another, eternal, stint in Azkaban.

Chapter Text

Wednesday Nov 2nd, 1994

It was a good thing for Melissa that she had first period off, as it took just about all of that time to convince Madam Pomfrey to let her attend Ancient Runes. She arrived there fairly early, and was surprised to see Cedric waiting outside of the classroom. On seeing her, he wilted in relief.

“You made it! I was worried you wouldn’t be. I tried to visit you at the Infirmary yesterday, but Madam Pomfrey said you were still asleep.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Did she figure out what was wrong?”

“I think my Sight’s been on the fritz,” Melissa said with a shrug. “Might get some lingering effects, but I don’t think I’ll have any more as bad as the other night.”

Cedric gave a worried nod, “I hope you’re right.”

The door to the classroom was still closed, so they continued to wait outside. In that time, Cedric kept giving her furtive, guilty looks. Clearly something was on his mind. “Sorry, but nothing I saw on Halloween was related to the Tournament.” Cedric jerked up in surprise at being caught, then curled inward with guilt. “It’s alright. I can tell you wanted to ask.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It would be unsportsmanlike to ask you for any help with it.”

“Why? We did the same for the contest, didn’t we?”

He looked taken aback by the question. “...True, but that was Garrick’s call to make. Not mine.”

Melissa made a hum of agreement. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t have any idea what the three Tasks will be.”

Another short silence followed. “...If that’s true…” more warring guilt made him hesitate, “what did you see the other week that made you so sure Harry would also be in the tournament?”

“Oh.” Yeah, that claim complicates things, doesn’t it? “I saw Harry flying near a cheering crowd, but he wasn’t wearing his quidditch uniform, and I’m pretty sure he was dodging a blast of dragon fire.”

“Dragon fire?!”

“Yeah. I was hoping it was some kind of broom-flying challenge, but Adrian says that that’s not a thing in Britain, so the only things I could think of were it being a contest abroad next summer, or, well… this.” She gave him another shrug. “Sorry, I know it’s not much-”

“It’s more than enough,” Cedric said earnestly. “You shouldn’t try to push yourself, especially after the other night.”

Melissa smiled. “Thanks, Ced.”

A pleasant silence fell as Professor Babbling opened the door and let them inside. While they got their supplies ready, Cedric spoke again. “Have you told Harry about any of this?”

“Ah- no, I haven’t.” Her lips pursed, and she muttered under her breath, “Damn, I was planning to talk with Snape at lunch about doing a remedial for yesterday’s class-”

“You should still do it. I’ll tell Harry after class. We’re sitting together at lunch anyways.”

“You are? Sweet! Thanks, Ced, you’re a life-saver!”

Cedric gave a small laugh, “No problem, Mel.”

“HEY CEDRIC, GUESS WHAT?” Corin shouted out. Both looked at Corin as he waved at Cedric, and he stopped at seeing Melissa, “Hey Mel! Glad to see you’re feeling better!”

“Thanks, Corin,” she said with a smile.

“So what happened?” Cedric asked Corin.

“Oh! Right! Turns out you’re missing out big time on Alchemy because both Krum and Delacour are taking the class with us!”

“Is that so?”

“It’s brilliant!” This time it was Rachel who spoke. “Krum’s a lot smarter than he looks. He answered a really tough question Dumbledore gave the class, and Delacour was asking all of these questions about elements that I could barely keep up with, but Dumbledore knew exactly what she was talking about.”

“Sounds like you’re in for quite a challenge,” Corin teased Cedric. “I hope you’re ready.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage just fine,” Cedric said with a surprising level of confidence. “Don’t forget, I was chosen for a reason.”

Melissa and the others gave nods of agreement, as well as promises to help their champion as best as they can.

Quiet murmurs, turning pages, scratches of quills, small clinks of inkwells, beyond that, the library was near-silent, per usual. Melissa worked as well as she could in that silence. The problem was, with the room being quiet, it somehow made Jacqueline’s nervous observations feel LOUD.

“Since you want to ask, no, I don’t know what the tournament tasks are.”

“I wasn’t thinking of that at all,” Jacqueline said in an equally hushed tone.

Melissa flicked her eyes up from her book. “Then what’s with all the weird looks?”

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all.”

Melissa took a moment to understand. “Thanks. I mean it. I’m sure it was just a one-day thing.”

Jacqueline had the slightest look of disbelief. “I suppose Halloween has become a day for strange things to happen.”

“Heh. You’ve said it. Azkaban, that thing with Creevey, the troll, Halloween’s a bit of a centerpoint for the weird.”

Melissa looked back down at her book, missing Jacqueline’s furrowed, calculating look. “I think we should try to finish this assignment today. I can also show you my notes for potions so you’re prepared for your remedial tomorrow.”

“I guess,” Melissa gave a huff of annoyance. “We’ll be late for dinner, though.”

“We have plenty of time for dinner. Besides, you have your music date afterwards. You might as well do that on a full stomach rather than risk going hungry from overusing ‘dark magic’.”

The two snorted at that, immediately muffling themselves, lest Madam Pince reprimands them. “Ooo, yes, the scary dark magic of music!” Honestly, after talking with the Durmstrang kids, a fair few people have had to rethink their ideas about that school’s reputation. “But you have a point. I guess I can wait a bit.”

“Good,” Jacqueline smiled to herself, victorious.

For the sake of discretion (you know, for dabbling in “dark magic”) Melissa met with Astrid at the Durmstrang ship. Being aboard an old-timey ghostly ship was awesome! Melissa drank in the decor as Astrid led her aboard and deeper into the ship. Some people gave the pair odd looks, while others nodded in approval. One of the girls exchanged a quick word with Astrid, and she translated the message with a smile.

“The Headmaster is busy in his quarters. We should be safe from being caught.”

Melissa gave a grin and a nod at that, wanting to avoid her English voice from carrying.

They snuck off to the students’ quarters, and spelled the door with a trigger should Karkaroff come nearby. When they settled, Melissa went straight for her satchel and pulled out a muggle binder. “This is everything I’ve learned about galdralag so far. I have them separated by Germanic and Greek methods, plus a couple subcategories.”

Astrid took the binder with confusion, and then with interest as she noted the divider names and the notes within. “This is an odd way to make notes.”

“I know,” she refrained from mentioning that the book is muggle, “but when you have different ideas at different times, it’s a handy way to add new notes to each subject when you go back to them.”

“Hmm. I see what you mean.” A few minutes passed as Astrid looked over her notes. Melissa, meanwhile, pulled out her keyboard and balalaika and made sure they were tuned. After a while, Astrid nodded in satisfaction, “These are good notes. You’re already working on… compositions?” She said the last word slowly, reading out the word from the top of a page.

“Yeah, I found a book that gives a good foundation on how to start, so I’ve been playing around with some of the ideas, in case I ever get the chance to try them.”

“Get the chance? You have not tried yet?” She gestured to the instruments at Melissa’s side.

“I have,” Melissa gave a disappointed sigh, “but I can’t get them to work. Which is dumb because I know this keyboard, at least, is magically made.”

Astrid hummed thoughtfully at the predicament. “Let me take a look at it. Hej, Linnea, kan du hitta Lev?” The second part was called out to a blonde witch nearby, who nodded and went over to knock on one of the doorways down the hall. Astrid, meanwhile, took a look at the magical keyboard. After some inspection, Astrid pouted at the instrument. “This is… not normal. I- I don’t have words in English to explain, but these runes are connected to arithmancy written to… make sound? This instrument makes no sound without magic?”

“...Oh!” Realization dawned on Melissa. “It’s meant to look like a muggle keyboard, which uses electricity to mimic piano sounds, and other instrument sounds. The inventor must have stuck to that principle when they made it!”

Astrid looked positively aghast. “Why would anyone think that that is a good idea?!”

“The band who got it for me has the same thing. They perform for both magical and muggle concerts, so they must have needed it as a disguise to keep things consistent?”

“Magical and muggle?! Who would think to do that?!”

At that moment Lev walked in, “Are ve talking about ze Veerd Sisters?”

Both witches looked at him strangely, though Melissa’s had more amusement. “You know the Weird Sisters?”

“Da, of course! I heard zem play vile on holiday in Bremen. Very Rock and Roll! I almost sang along ven you all sang ze Badger song.”

Something about Lev calling her boys ‘Very Rock and Roll’ made her laugh, more so at the thought of her songs reaching across the continent. “Yeah, they’re great, aren’t they?”

“Lev,” Astrid interrupted, “can you look at this balalaika, to see what’s wrong with it?”

“Okay,” he picked it up casually and gave it a once-over. “Zis is ancient! Whose is it?”

“Mine,” Melissa answered.

“Yours?” He looked at her strangely. “How, and vy?”

“I found it lying around at school, and because I wanted it.”

He gave a small laugh, then strummed the instrument. “Hmm, old, but not bad. Vot is wrong vit it?” Astrid answered the question in Russian, producing a frown on Lev as he played around with some of the chords.

Suddenly the room got colder. A chill but gentle wind blew through the room despite the closed portholes. “Hmm,” Lev shrugged casually, “it vorks to me.”

“Hold on,” Melissa looked about in confusion, “was that you just now with the wind?”

“Yes. Ze start of a simple veszer spell.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on! Can you do it again?”

Lev strummed the instrument again, bringing about another cold breeze. Melissa paid attention to the wind, and the notes played, with a laser focus.

“Give me that,” she said, almost greedily, as she reached for the balalaika. Lev obliged with amusement. Melissa took it and immediately repeated the notes he just played. …The room stayed perfectly still, regardless. “What gives? I did the same thing, didn’t I?!”

“For music you did,” he answered with an impressed tone.

“Maybe your magic was not focused onto wind?” Astrid suggested.

“My magic?” They looked at her in confusion, and then realization hit her like lightning. “It’s like a wand! I read about that! How could I be so stupid?!” She looked up earnestly at them. “Do you have to think of any words when you play? Like with a spell?”

“Not exactly. You must zink of making vind- of changing ze veszer- ven you do.”

“Huh. Okay…” and put my magic into it, like a wand. Honestly, why didn’t I try that before? She focused on her magic, and thoughts of wind and weather, as she strummed the balalaika again. Feeling nothing, she repeated the progression again, and a gentle wind caressed her arms. “I think I did it!”

“You did,” Astrid said with a smile. “Good job.”

“Thanks!” She looked down at the instrument in her hand. “All this time I had something that plays magical music, and I had no idea!” Honestly, it was mildly embarrassing. “I wonder what else I can do with it?”

“Let me check,” Lev offered. “Some are made to do specific magics. Ze makers leave notes.”

“Oh, okay, sure.” She handed the instrument back to Lev, and he inspected it once more. He checked out the body and peghead, commenting idly that it might have been made for a farming community, as there were signs that it specialised more in weather and elemental magic, as well as summoning animals and fish. They were odd concepts to Melissa; but she supposed that, for a rural community, those magics would make sense. Lev then looked over the bridge, and his eyes went wide. “Kakogo cherta?!” A phrase which Melissa’s heard from Rusalka enough to know it’s basically an equivalent of WTF. “Zis sign is from Áillun Vaara!”

“Chto?!” Someone shouted.

Melissa was confused by the sudden hubbub. “From what?”

“A famous Saami witch,” Astrid said. “The Vaara family makes great instruments.”

“But Áillun Vaara died over ten years ago!” Lev said. “And zis balalaika is very old. Zat you have one of hers from her- her high time, it is incredible! Can I buy zis from you?!”

The thought of money made her consider it. The thought of it being valuable, and Lev being just a student, made her quickly decline. “I’ll have to think about that. If this is the only instrument I have that works, I’d like to work with it while you’re all here.”

Lev looked genuinely torn by the non-answer. “Can I ask again before we leave?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” I might even know it’s full value to charge by then, she thought greedily. “Though, now that I know that this works, let’s see how many of these instrumental songs I can pull off!”

Chapter Text

Thursday November 3rd, 1994

It felt odd taking double potions twice in one day, yet Melissa made sure not to complain upon entering the classroom for her second round that evening. After all, she did ask for this.

In a surprise showing, she gave the professor a slight bow. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Professor.”

“Your attempts at humility are noted,” he said drily. “You may begin working on making the Dreamless Sleep Potion.”

“Yes, Sir.” She got to work immediately: crushing wormwood into a paste, stripping lavender into a workable size, and so on. She put all of her focus into making the potion; knowing that, as the sole student in the room, she was under Snape’s full attention. True to form, the professor gave the occasional disparaging comment, though it was surprisingly less than she expected. Melissa finished the potion at a decent time, producing a potion of galaxy purple. She brought it up to Snape for grading. He gave it a visual and olfactory inspection while Melissa fidgeted in place.

“Hmph. Not bad, Miss Bennett. Not enough for intense traumas, but well enough to help those with mild insomnia or problematic dreaming. Exceeds Expectations.”

With that pronouncement, Melissa blinked in happy surprise. “Thank you, Professor. …Don’t suppose I could take some of it, since it’s not a super strong dose?”

Snape gave an unimpressed look. “Do you suffer from troubling dreams, Miss Bennett?”

Melissa took a breath, yet found herself unwilling to answer. Instead, she just gave him a look. A staring contest moved between them. It seemed to communicate enough as, with a difficult look, Snape responded, “For this batch, I would recommend a maximum of five doses over the course of a fortnight, and no longer, to prevent any risk of addiction.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

A pause fell between them as Melissa moved to grab a few doses worth. While she did, Snape considered his words.

“Have you spoken with Mister Potter since Monday?”

Melissa paused in her work, but only briefly. “No, I haven’t.”

“I see.” He then continued in an almost casual manner, “I can hardly imagine a fourth year having any success in this tournament. More likely than not, he’ll have to use any and every magic at his disposal just to survive.”

She gave a hum of agreement, then flashed him a cheeky smile, “It’s okay to just admit that you’re worried about him. You’re in welcome company here.”

Weirdly, Snape looked surprised at those words. Then there was a softer expression, one she couldn’t recognize, having never seen it on Snape. It moved on quickly from that expression into one of exasperation. “Be that as it may, as your Head of House it is worth asking- knowing he may resort to any and all magic available to him, are you prepared to watch the boy risk death?”

Huh?

…Oh. “Ah.” I totally misread what this conversation’s about. “No, I suppose not. Though, if it helps, I’m planning on talking to him after our VATIC meeting on Sunday. You know, give him some tips on what kind of magic is safe to try out.”

His expression was unmoved. Silence fell, and Melissa fidgeted in place. Maybe she still isn’t understanding what this conversation is about?

“Considering your… delicate constitution,” Snape said, “I advise that you record any lingering symptoms you experience over the next few weeks. I would hate to have to attend to a student because they fell into hysterics while in the middle of spectating one of the Triwizard tasks.”

Melissa bit down a flash of annoyance, but she can’t deny the truth of his words, even if she disagreed on the terms of “hysterics” and “delicate constitution”.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about a possible solution to that.” She paused briefly, then asked, “Have you ever heard of a parting stone?”

“A what?”

“A parting stone. Sorry, I don’t know if that’s a thing yet here or just something I heard about before in the muggle world,” she removed a few select items from her satchel as she continued, “It’s this concept of turning a loved one’s ashes into stones. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but I remember reading that they use some kind of binding agent on the ashes and then bake it- or something- into a few stones.”

“That is most certainly not ‘a thing’ in the wizarding world, nor have I heard of this process in the muggle world.”

“Ah. Spoilers, then.”

Out of her sight, Snape shivered for unknown reasons. “What exactly is the point of this conversation, Miss Bennett?”

Melissa clicked her tongue nervously, “Well… Fawkes thinks that I might be able to protect myself from certain energies with some kind of amulet focused on ‘life energy’.” She placed a large flask and two phials on his desk, “and he donated some of his tears, feathers, and ashes as potential bases when he flamed back into a chick.”

Eyes wide, Snape stared at the materials, then looked back up at her. “Are you certain this will work?”

“No, but I trust Fawkes, and he thinks that it’s possible. What do you think?”

Snape thought for a long time before answering slowly, “I think …there may be some merit to this. However, this is out of my expertise. A protective amulet, like you’re proposing, will require careful calculations, charmswork, and possibly more, as you are dealing with protection from a very specific and powerful form of magic that none can truly fight against.” He gave her a musing look. “Generally speaking, Independent Study Projects are only allowed for seventh year students. However, considering the circumstances, I can sign off on an official ISP for you. It will give you easier approval into books listed in the Restricted Section, and the other professors will be more willing to teach you spells relevant to your research. Though I do caution discretion when speaking to the other professors.”

Throughout this offer, Melissa’s eyes had gone wide. She had long been planning on using her ISP to make an automaton orchestra tied to charmed parchment and dictaquills for speedy compositions …but, yeah, this is obviously a better idea (for her health, if nothing else). “Makes sense. I- I can also ask the Headmaster if he has any nuggets of wisdom for what the Flamels needed to make the Philosopher’s Stone. There’s bound to be some ingredients or processes that are useful to making this kind of amulet.”

Snape flashes her a suspicious look. “That is dangerous territory, Miss Bennett.”

“So is being friends with the M.O.D.” She rolled her eyes, “Look, I have no interest in living forever. I’m already living my own weird version of that, and it’s more than enough for me.”

He considered her words; admitting, reluctantly, to the truth of it. He pulled a sheet of parchment out of his desk and handed it to her. “This is an example copy of an ISP proposal. I expect a full proposal for your project by the end of next week. We are doing this by the book, but with discretion from all who do not already know about your situation. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal …uh- Sir,” she added hastily.

“Good. Then you are dismissed.”

Friday November 4th, 1994

Upon arriving at Ancient Studies, the class had to do a double-take as their numbers seemed to have quadrupled overnight. “Lev? You’re taking this class, too?”

“Of course. I did say ve are taking ze special classes, right?”

“True. I heard some people have joined Divination, Muggle Studies, and Creatures class. Guess I didn’t think a lot of people would be taking this class, too.” It was true, of the fifty-ish international students, it appeared that half of them had joined the class. Melissa noted with interest that Fleur Delacour is here, currently speaking with Patricia and Kenneth. Unfortunately, it seemed like the rest of her Hogwarts cohorts were ogling the Veela girl rather than preparing for class. In light of that, she walked right over to Corin and Domonkos, and promptly slapped both of them upside the head.

“Ow!”

“What was that for?!”

“For not getting your shit together. You better have not been like this in your last class.”

“I-” Domonkos was at a loss of words. Though the sudden flush of shame said enough.

“Consider yourself lucky that Eloise didn’t dump you then and there.”

“What about me?” Corin asked, “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

“You still have to get your shit together. I don’t care how strong her allure is, it’s rude to stare. Speaking of which-” she gave another whack, this time to Garrick, “you’re embarrassing yourselves. At least Kenneth has some class.”

Garrick and Domonkos looked visibly offended at the comparison, though even they could look back at the other group and admit …yeah, he isn’t drooling over the French blonde like they are.

Unfortunately, their observations of Kenneth accidentally led to them staring at Fleur once again. 

More smacks followed.

At least some of the international students found the whole thing hilarious.

“It vos ze same in Advanced Arissmancy and Alchemy,” Lev informed her with a snicker. “Nearly every boy vos staring at Delacour. Even ze Beauxbatons vizards.”

“I know they can’t help it, but it’s still annoying,” Melissa said with a huff. She gave Lev a curious look. “You weren’t staring at her, though. Right?”

Lev gave an ashamed blush. “No,” he lied. “She is a beautiful vitch, but vy should I stare? I am not a vild volf.”

She gave him an amused smile. “Suuure, Lev.”

“Question,” Rusalka’s voice interrupted the gathering. She, Jacinth, and some of the other kids from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were looking over at them on their own walk towards the international quarters for lunch. “What do you mean by ‘the boys can’t help it’?”

Two of the Beauxbatons girls gave each other knowing looks, but neither answered. Then again, the question wasn’t for them. It was for Melissa. “She’s one quarter Veela.”

“Veela?!” Jacinth exclaimed.

Melissa gave a nod. “I’m not sure if she can go full ‘bird’, but she has a natural allure that draws men to her, whether she likes them or not. Which really sucks. I can’t imagine having a bunch of guys drool over me on a daily basis just because of something I was born with.”

“Eetz so annoying!” One of the Beauxbatons exclaimed. “Ze boys always look at ‘er, even our boyfriends. She does notting yet zey zink she eez everyzing!”

Melissa gave them a hard look. “Again,” she said harshly, “it must really suck for a teenaged veela to have men she’s not interested in chasing her on a daily basis because of biology.”

“Biology?” said Lev.

“Because of something she was born with, beyond her control. Personally,” she continued, “regular women have a hard enough time with men who don’t take no for an answer. To have that extend to the majority of the male population, especially when you’re just a teenager, must make her life very unsafe. I bet part of why she’s the champion is because she’s had to fight off men on a regular basis, and got stronger in the process.” She flashed them all a hard look. “Something to think about.”

She walked off, breaking away from the Beauxbatons girls, with the others following suit. Some were thinking over her words, while others moved on to other conversations. That said, none spoke to Melissa until they got safely onto the ship. Astrid did so while giving her a thoughtful look, “I like what you said, about needing to fight off forceful wizards.” She looked mildly uncomfortable. “I have been grateful to only have three classes with Delacour, and glad that Alchemy class is mostly witches and with wizards who are more polite. Though I never considered what it must be like for her. …I will work to be kinder to her.”

“That’s appreciated,” Melissa said. She plopped down on one of the chairs, releasing a large breath. “So, you said you’re going to teach me how to summon fish?”

Sunday November 6th, 1994

Melissa awaited the start of the meeting with baited breath. This is it. A time for me and Harry …in the same room. That’s normal. That’s fine. Perfect, even.

She busied herself over some notes from their last meeting. After much debate, the group had settled on a unique approach to handle their international year. To foster friendships, and not offend their foreign counterparts, they decided to celebrate Ystävänpäivä (Finland’s ‘Friend’s Day’) instead of Valentine’s day. The idea is sound. The execution, on the other hand, is confusing. According to Annabel and Astoria, people celebrate the holiday by going out with friends for coffee, dinner, skating, bowling, or even a sauna. While that’s awesome for a winter holiday, none of that really fits with how VATIC usually goes about things. Not to mention it doesn't seem to change much between muggle and wizarding communities. So how are they to go about putting a magical spin on this in a school setting…?

“Attention, everyone!” Tracey called out to the group. Everyone stilled as Tracey gestured to Hufflepuffs at her side. “Annabel and Ben have an important announcement!”

The others looked on in interest, but also with concern upon seeing their nervous faces. “I have a note here,” Annabel said, lifting the paper halfheartedly and giving it a short read through. “Harry would like to thank everyone, and really appreciates everything that we do, but- with him getting forced into the Triwizard Tournament- says that he has to step down from VATIC to focus on preparing for the tasks.”

“What?!” Exclaims of surprise rang around the room.

“Ugh! Harry, what were you thinking?!” Dean shouted. “Now we have to do a whole new round of applications!”

“Hey, go easy on him,” Byron said. “He’s being forced into a huge tournament against his will. He can’t help focusing on staying alive rather than being in a club.”

A few gave Byron odd looks, but Ben and the others nodded. “Exactly. Besides, it won’t be so bad. Harry made a big announcement about it just now in the common room so that anyone interested will be coming up here today.”

The group gave each other pensive or nervous looks. Finally, Dean gave a loud sigh, “Fine. Guess we'll set the room up for the interviews. Nobody give away what our plans are, though!”

“Except that we’re including the international students,” Luna said. “Their insight will be very useful.”

“Huh, that’s a good point,” Parvati said with a blink.

“Yeah,” Tracey nodded, “let’s prep some more questions like that, now, just to be safe.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said with a nod. “Let’s get to work!”

“I just don’t get it,” Melissa muttered almost to herself, as she laid in bed. “He’s in, like, three clubs, including quidditch. He’s always been able to juggle all that stuff, have friends, and keep his grades up. Now one tournament shows up, and he drops everything? It’s only three tasks! How much time does he really need for it?”

“I’m sure he’s just thinking about what’s best for the situation,” Jacqueline said gently.

“Yeah, he’s being responsible,” Amy added. “He’s going up against three of-age wizards, way out of his league, in a tournament that’s supposed to be hard for them. He needs to worry about the tasks way more than Cedric and the others do.”

“I suppose,” Melissa whined. “It’s just, it’s more than just the tournament,” She flopped over to face the room, “I know this sounds paranoid, but it almost feels like he’s avoiding me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen him in the Great Hall once since the whole Goblet mess happened. I don’t see him in the corridors either. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”

A pause of contemplation fell over the room. “To be fair,” Jacqueline said, “I haven’t seen him around either.”

“Do any of your classes overlap?” Rusalka asked. “Like, does he have Charms in the same afternoon or morning as you?”

“No,” Melissa answered. 

“So this year have you ever seen him in the corridors?”

“...Hardly,” Melissa admitted.

“You said that Cedric’s taken him under his wing,” Amy added. “They’re probably training together in their spare time.”

“And hiding from all of the stares and whispers that are bound to happen if he stays long in the Great Hall,” Rusalka said.

“I guess that’s true.”

“See,” Amy said, “you’re worrying over nothing. The Puffs are taking good care of him. You just focus on your own projects and he’ll come around when he’s free.”

Melissa thought it over, eventually giving in to a loud sigh, “You’re right. I’m overthinking things. Thanks, girls.”

“Of course.”

“Anytime.”

Melissa blew out her candlelight and wished the other girls goodnight. In that act, she fully missed the concerned and relieved looks exchanged between them.

Chapter Text

Rewind - Thursday, November 3rd, 1994

The last few days have been an absolute whiplash for Harry. First there was having his dorm-mates following him around because they didn’t trust him, relief on not being the Hogwarts champion- followed immediately by becoming a surprise fourth champion, and getting accused left, right, and centre from all parties involved. Then there was a euphoria of uniting the Deathly Hallows and fully becoming the Master of Death, only for that to crash upon realizing how those powers impact the ghosts and the… living dead.

Yeah that’s something he’s still wrapping his mind around.

The next day Cedric managed to learn more about the vision of Harry in the tournament. “Flying on a broom while dodging a blast of dragon fire,” he was told. A descriptor like that, coupled with Mister Bagman saying that their first task is about courage and daring …left the boys pretty positive that they were royally fucked.

“Guess that explains why the Goblet went for seekers,” Harry muttered dejectedly as he waited for Transfiguration to start.

Those waiting with him- Justin, Hermione, and Neville- all exchanged worried looks. “Well, at least that means you’re all fast on a broom,” Neville commiserated.

Harry shook his head, “We were told we can only bring our wands, so they’re probably providing the brooms for us. There’s no way they’ll give us brooms faster than my Nimbus 2001.” Plus, though he plans on bringing the Elder Wand to the challenge, it still leaves him facing a dragon.

“Maybe you can use the summoning charm?” Hermione said after a moment of thought. “Have it come to you during the task. That’s what one of the teams did for the Defence Contest, right?”

“Oh!” Justin exclaimed. “And get a shield from one of the suits of armour and tie it to the broom so that it all comes together!”

“Huh,” Harry blinked, “that’s an idea.” He can even tie the other Hallows to the broom. He already knows the summoning charm thanks to his summer learning from Mister Salvatore. …This just might work!

Friday, November 4th, 1994

The next morning Harry greeted Magdalene with slight trepidation. She had a fair bit of mail for him today (and, yes, he was starting to regret changing his owl wards) and Harry figured he’ll be spending much of History of Magic going through the various fan mail. Since he wanted to avoid the mail for now, he perused through the Daily Prophet instead.

He was no longer on the front page, small mercies for that. There was a mention of him on page four, in an article about the Wizengamot making a statement about the Goblet of Fire. Turns out the Goblet of Fire was hit by a really powerful confundus charm, confusing it into believing there are four schools in the tournament instead of three. How an object can get confused is beyond Harry. Judging by the article, it seems like many people feel the same way. …One would think that would verify the fact that Harry is too young to pull off that kind of magic, but the journalist didn’t seem to make any claim about it one way or the other.

He continued reading the paper, his eyes moving to page five and falling on an article titled American Collector wins Hogwarts Relics Case. 

Oh, right, I saw something about that this summer.  

It was a bigger story back then, with the British Ministry trying to force MACUSA to confiscate a few items that an American owned. That didn’t go over well for the Ministry, from what he recalled. Looks like the issue was left to be internally American, with the MACUSA finding that the collector had every right to purchase an item that neither Hogwarts or its Founders’ descendants could prove was stolen, or was even reported lost in the first place. The article threw a fair bit of xenophobic comments towards MACUSA and the collector; but overall, Harry could hardly side with the writer. After all, the collector bought those items from someone who had them for generations. That hardly counts as stolen, right?

Or maybe that’s just his British way of thinking.

He finished off the paper, moving on to sorting letters. Most, as expected, were from people he didn’t know. There was, however, a letter from Sirius, so he opted to read them while breakfast continued. Sirius’ letter showed sympathy and panic for the dragon theory of the First Task, and approved of Harry’s plans. He was worried, however, about putting too much stock in summoning a broom. They might put shields around the Task that prevent magic from getting in or out, so you should make an extra plan, just in case.  

It was a fair concern, but an unnecessary one, in Harry’s opinion. After all, he’s the Master of Death! He has full confidence that his Hallows are strong enough to defy any old magic!

“Potter,” Professor Snape said curtly, “remain after class.”

Kevin flashed Harry with an alarmed look. They both instinctively looked at their cauldrons, but found that Harry’s looked just as good, if not better, than Kevin’s. Neither could tell what he had done to merit this odd summons. Alas, Harry had no choice but to stay behind as the others left the final class of the week.

“You wanted to speak with me, Sir?”

“As I said,” he said coldly. A pause fell between them, leaving Harry in a very awkward and confused state. It seemed an age before the potions professor spoke. “It has come to my attention that you recently came into possession of a wand formerly owned by the Headmaster.”

Harry snapped at attention to those words. “...I have.”

“It has also come to my attention that you have possession of an heirloom once held by the Gaunt family. Is this true?”

A small touch of panic entered his heart. “May I ask where this rumour came from?”

Snape’s expression flattened. Hands clasped, the man leaned in closer. “It is also a long established fact that these heirlooms are inextricably linked to one of my Snakes, in a way that brings about great discomfort and pain when used in their presence. Do you deny it?”

His mind froze, finding himself unable to think beyond one simple truth, “You know what she is?”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “I do.”

In his shock, Snape’s words started to catch up with Harry. Long established, “How long have you known?”

“Since searching for a cure after the Weasleys’ potion ‘prank’ led her into a coma, and had it confirmed after the Cipher incident.” He regarded Harry for a moment. “I’m surprised she did not tell you that we are aware of her situation.”

His mind screamed at the frustration of it all. Surprised about that? Out of everything, that’s the big deal? Maybe Snape doesn’t realize that it’s a ‘long established fact’ that Melly is a born liar who never shares her real self to ANYONE!

He took a deep breath to quiet the pent up frustrations. “I’m sure she has her reasons.”

Melly has her reasons? Sure. Will Harry ever be sure that anything coming out of her mouth is truthful ever again? Doubtful! Maybe now that he has dominion over the dead he can just make her tell him- 

-and THAT’S why you’ve agreed to not be around her these days!

“I’m sure she does,” Snape said in a mocking tone. “Be that as it may, it is clear now that your …newly elevated state may be a potential problem for this student’s health and wellbeing.”

Despite his re-growing anger, a large part of it quelled under a sudden shame. “I’m aware.”

Snape gave him a questioning look. “I was under the impression that you two would not speak of this until your meeting on Sunday.”

Those words were like a lightning strike to Harry. Two thoughts warred with him over all that Snape was implying. Mainly that, not only does Snape know about Melly’s… living situation, it’s apparently a normal thing for them to talk to each other about?! An envious rage burned in him, and he tried to speak evasively around it. “I figured it out when I found out about the seizures.”

“Hmph, I suppose that would be an obvious correlation for those in the know.”

No it wasn’t, Harry thought dejectedly. Though it did bring up another, irritating question, Does that mean her dorm-mates know about it too?!

“Well then, seeing as we are on the same page with this unpleasant situation, I would like to offer you an opportunity.”

“Sir?”

“There is a… project, underway, to create a protective measure against these seizures. As the source of the ailment, I believe it prudent to insist that some tests be conducted on your person to determine what magics will and will not be useful, as well as find ways for you to conduct these tests without causing any reactions to the patient in the process.”

He genuinely needed time to think that over. “So you’re… You think there’s still a risk, even when it’s not Halloween?”

“Obviously.”

“And you want to scan me to find a way to help her, with something that she’s born as?”

An odd look crossed Snape’s face. Slowly, he answered, “Essentially, yes. I would also recommend that any magic done with these heirlooms be done under scheduled supervision.”

“Seriously?” Harry asked. “But I have to learn how to use them before the first task!”

“Out of the question!” Snape snapped. “Until I can determine that their usage is safe, you must avoid all use of them.” As Harry tried to interrupt, Snape cut in sharply, “Unless you want to put your friend through another seizure?”

Harry’s mouth snapped shut. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. Using the Hallows feels good. For Snape to ban him from using them, at the cost of his friend’s health, his first friend’s health, one who fools him with lie after lie after lie about everything she is… “Can we make it fast, then? The task is in three weeks!”

Snape looked incredulous. “Harry, that is hardly enough time to safely test them.”

“But I’m going to fight a dragon!”

His nostrils flared. “Then I suggest you find another way to deal with it!”

“REDUCTO!”

*BOOM! *

“BOMBARDA!”

*BOOM! *

“BONE CONSTRICTOR!”

*CRACK! *

“BURNING VENOM!”

*SIZZLE! *

A hissing voice called out from the other side of Slytherin’s duelling arena, “Your scent is that of wild prey, Harry. This is not helping you with your worries.”

“What else am I supposed to do?!” Harry said with frustration, unleashing another destructive curse on his conjured ‘opponent’. “I have the most powerful magic fang in the world, but if I use it, I get in trouble; and they’ll know I’m using it because Lissa can sense it!”

Caireen hissed in understanding. “Your friend won’t be here forever. She will leave, and you will be free to use it.”

“That’s too far away,” he complained. “I have to face dragons on this moon cycle. I need this power to fight them!”

“Dragons?” A soft, musing hiss came out of Caireen, “My Master spoke of dragons, many, many years ago. He spoke highly of them, but found it difficult to learn their ways.”

Harry paused in his casting. “What do you mean by ‘to learn their ways’?”

“They are different from serpents, and more prideful and complex in their speaking. He said it takes patience to understand them.”

“Wait, you mean a Speaker can speak to dragons?” He certainly didn’t understand any dragons when he visited the Isle of Skye and Snowdonia!

“With much work, yes. A true serpent can speak easier with a dragon, though they are often afraid of them.”

“Huh.” He filed that information away for the moment. “How are they against Speaker magic? Is it stronger than wizard magic, or weaker?”

Caireen considered that for a moment. “I think it is stronger, but I am not fully sure. I believe My Master has some books on dragons in the library.”

“Wicked! Okay, if I find out, I will let you know.”

Sunday November 6th, 1994

“Hello, Harry Potter,” Luna said as she skipped to the base of Ravenclaw tower. “I’m surprised to see you. Your note said that you’re too busy with the tournament to see your friends.”

A small flash of guilt went through him. No matter how casually Luna said it, and how accurate it was to Harry’s announcement, it still made him sound like a prat to say it at all. “I know, and I sort of am. Actually… I’m hoping to have your help with the First Task.”

“Really?” She said airily. “Will there be interesting creatures in the task?”

“There is, but I only know about one for sure,” he said. “That’s why I was wondering if Scales-Like-A-Magpie would be willing to join me for the task?”

Luna thought about it briefly. “I’ll have to ask him. Would you like to come inside?”

“Sure.” Harry followed Luna up to Ravenclaw Tower, wherein she answered its riddle and stepped inside. Luna then went up to her dorms, leaving Harry to wait in the common room.

“Harry?” Stephen said, looking at him curiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Triwizard Tournament stuff,” he answered casually. “Sorry about leaving VATIC last-minute. Did anyone come to join?”

“Yeah, we got a second year signed up, Cody -something- I can’t quite remember his name,” Stephen scratched the back of his head, “but he seems like a good kid. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said genuinely. 

The boys talked for a bit, along with a few of Stephen’s friends, as he waited in the common room. When Luna returned, they scurried off to a more secluded corner so that he could explain his plans with Scales-Like-A-Magpie. He seemed up for it, up until Harry and Luna properly explained what a dragon is.

“Giant serpents with claws and wings and fire?!” He winded nervously around Luna’s shoulders. “I don’t know if I can speak to one. It will eat me!”

“You’ll be safe with Harry,” Luna assured.

“A Speaker is strong, but a giant serpent with fire is stronger!”

“Please, Scales-Like-A-Magpie?” Harry asked. “I know no other snakes who can help.”

“You smell of another great serpent,” He said pointedly. Luna gave him a curious look, which Harry ignored.

“She can’t go outside. Other wizards will kill her.”

The small snake undulated nervously, moving in constant motion, until another thought occurred to him. “I know braver, stranger snakes who we can ask.”

“Oh my goodness!” Luna squealed in delight as George and Fred Weasley produced their horned serpents. “Greetings, beautiful ones! I have never met horned serpents before!”

The horned serpents preened under the witch’s affections. Harry, meanwhile, delighted in both her excitement and in the Twins’ pouting. Fred gave George a disdainful look. “Should have known our sons would grow up and cause trouble.”

“By making friends?” Harry asked.

“Exposing themselves to the world,” George answered. “Ah, but what can you do? Our mother did say that we’ll be punished by having children just like us.”

“Though fatherhood has its own blessings.”

“Too true. Couldn’t be happier.”

The constant back and forth was as amusing as it was confusing. “Red-Brothers, Horned serpents, I would like your help with a fight.”

“A fight?”

“A fight?”

“A fight?”

“A fight?”

The four voices were nearly in sync. It was somewhat bewildering to hear the twin-speak echo twofold. 

“My first fight involves facing a dragon. Are you brave enough to speak with it? Convince it not to fight?”

The horned serpents mulled it over. The wizards, meanwhile, went slack-jawed, followed immediately by secret conversation. Harry went back and forth with the snakes, eventually getting them to agree to join him, so long as he promised to not let the dragons eat them.

By about that point, Fred and George stopped whispering. “Our brother, Sharlie, sent a message that he’s coming home, and that he’s going to Hogsmeade this moon cycle. He must be bringing dragons to the fight!”

Oh, right. Ron mentioned that one of his brothers works with dragons! “That’s it! Can you help me find information about the task?”

“Help with information?” The boys looked at each with glee. “Oh, Harrikins, we can offer you much more than that!”

Chapter Text

Friday November 11th, 1994

“Antidotes!” Professor Snape announced at the start of class. “You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…”

Judging by the way Snape’s eyes lingered on his, Harry wondered if the Potions Master was planning on using him as the test subject? Maybe he thought Harry made a safer guinea pig? I mean, can the Master of Death even die? Maybe this is secretly part of Snape’s experiment-?

A knock at the door broke Harry out of his deathly musings. He turned to find Annabel Entwhistle entering the space. She gave Harry and Tracey short nods as she made her way to Snape’s desk.

“Yes?” Snape asked curtly.

“Hello, Professor. Mister Bagman asked me to bring Harry up for a meeting with the other champions.”

Snape stared at her hard before giving a dismissive huff. “Very well. Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote.”

“Ah, sorry Sir,” Annabel interrupted, “he has to take his things with him. All the champions have to do-”

“Very well!” Snape snapped. “Potter, take your bag; but I expect you back here tomorrow at 10am for a remedial class.”

A remedial class? On a Saturday?! Harry thought in disbelief. Ugh! It probably is just an excuse to experiment on me!

Resigned, Harry took his bag and followed Annabel out the door. “Don’t suppose Bagman mentioned what this is about? I thought we weren’t getting any more clues about the First Task.”

“No, it doesn’t look like that,” Annabel answered. “I saw a photographer there. I think they’re doing photos for the Daily Prophet.”

“Great,” he groaned.

The rest of the walk was filled with idle chatter until Annabel showed him the door to the meeting room. With a short bid of, “Good luck,” she left him for elsewhere. Resigned, Harry knocked on the door and went inside.

It was an abandoned classroom, with most of the desks and chairs pushed to the sides, save for a few intended for the meeting. The remaining row of desks was lined with a velvet runner, and Ludo Bagman was sitting at one of the chairs along that row, chatting (to Harry’s surprise) with Annabella Soros. As for the rest of the room, he found Viktor Krum was standing in one corner in a visibly bad mood; Cedric and Fleur Delacour having a conversation at the other end; and in the middle was a paunchy man holding a large, black (and slightly smoking) camera, who was leering at Fleur from the corner of his eye.

“Ah, here he is!” Bagman said suddenly. “Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come … nothing to worry about, it’s just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment-”

“Wand weighing?” Harry asked in slight alarm.

“We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they’re your most important tools in the tasks ahead,” he explained- in no way reassuring Harry (though he gave slight relief that he has the Elder Wand hidden in his satchel instead of up his sleeve where he puts his holly wand.) “The expert’s upstairs now with Dumbledore. After that there’s going to be a little photo shoot. This is Annabella Soros, she’s doing a piece on the Tournament for the Daily Prophet.”

“We’re acquainted,” Mrs. Soros said with a smile that didn’t quite match her tone. “Though I must say, you being selected for the tournament is quite the surprise.”

“It is, unfortunately,” Harry said.

Her smile briefly faltered. “Dom wrote to me about what happened. It’s atrocious how many times you and the other children have been put in dangerous situations these last few years.” She clicked her tongue and adjusted the beetle-decorated brooch on her lapel. “No matter, we’ll all be doing interviews today, and I’ll make sure your side of the story is told in the Prophet.”

“You’ll do that?”

“Of course!” Her tone suggested offense that he would think differently. Which- okay, maybe he’s still holding a bit of a grudge, but still-

Another thought caught up with him. “...You’ll all? Meaning…?”

“Ah, the other newspapers,” she answered. “There are representatives from both Le Cri de la Gargouille and the Mudraya Sova coming today.”

Great. More interviews. “I see.”

Mrs. Soros excused herself to go talk with the photographer. Harry, meanwhile, walked over to Viktor’s miserable corner. “You and me, both,” Harry said with gloom as he hopped to sit on a nearby desk.

Viktor was left confused. “Both of vot?”

“Both not looking forward to interviews and people taking pictures of us,” he answered simply. “I mean, for me, I don’t want to be in this tournament at all; but I figure you just want to focus on the challenge of it all. Not have people gawk at you over a school contest, right?”

There was a small and sudden light in Viktor’s eyes to prove that Harry was on the mark. Especially so as Viktor gave a small nod. “Yes. It is alvays like this. Vy play game ven you can answer boring questions?”

A snort fell out of Harry before he could hide it. He quickly stifled it behind a grin, “Can’t say I’ve had that, but it has happened while I’m just out shopping or minding my own business.” His smile went bland. “Though I suppose this is better than my potions class. My professor was planning to test poison antidotes on me today.”

Viktor looked reasonably alarmed by this. “Is dis normal?”

“It is with Professor Snape,” Cedric said suddenly. Harry hadn’t even noticed his and Fleur’s approach. “Lucky for me, I’m just missing Muggle Studies right now.” He gave a slight wince “…I suppose Transfiguration, too, depending on how long this goes-”

“We were speaking earlier,” Fleur interrupted, yet gesturing to Cedric, “of doing a seekers' challenge tomorrow for ze four of us. Would you like to play?”

“A seeker’s challenge?” Harry had no idea what that is, but- “Sounds fun. What do you think?”

He asked that question to Viktor. The young professional had an intrigued and devious gleam to his eye. “I know of seeker challenges to train. …Yes, I vood like to join your challenge.”

“Great!” Cedric said happily. “The Flying Club meets up at two o’clock. We can do it then.”

The other three nodded in agreement, each flashing smiles of competitive energy.

The door opened once again. This time Dumbledore was the one to step through the threshold, followed by another familiar face, Mister Ollivander. A Wand Expert, indeed! After that pair came Headmasters Maxime and Karkaroff, Mister Wilkins, and two witches Harry didn’t recognize. That said, the bright quills poking out of their robe pockets suggested that these are the other reporters Mrs. Soros mentioned.

“Ah, splendid,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, “you’re all here. If the four of you could please take a seat here, the Wand Weighing ceremony is about to begin.”

The four champions took their seats along the wall while the seven judges took their seats at the velvet-covered table. Dumbledore spoke as he took his own, “May I introduce Mister Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the Tournament.”

Mister Ollivander gave a slight bow of the head from where he stood in the centre of the room. “Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you forward first, please?”

Fleur moved gracefully towards the wandmaker, and presented her wand.

“Hmmm…” Ollivander twirled the wand like a baton, causing it to emit pink and gold sparks. He then held it close to his eyes for careful examination. Speaking quietly, he muttered, “Yes. Nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…”

“A ‘air from ze ‘ead of a Veela,” Fleur confirmed. “One of my grandmuzzer’s.”

The answer surprised him. He already knew from Ornella that Fleur is part-Veela, but to use a part of her own family for a wand… that’s a thing? And it works?

Mister Ollivander, at least, was able to recover from the shock. “Yes. Yes, I've never used Veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands …however, to each his own, and if this suits you…”

Well that’s rude, Harry thought. Ollivander isn’t insulting just some ingredient, he’s insulting Fleur’s heritage and her very family in the process!

The wandmaker produced a bouquet of flowers from the tip of Fleur’s wand. “Very well, very well, it’s in fine working order.” He scooped up the flowers and handed them, and the wand, back to Fleur. “Mister Diggory, you next.”

Harry watched as the two switched places, catching Fleur smiling at Cedric on her way back. Maybe he misread the situation, and Fleur wasn’t insulted at all?

“Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn’t it?” Ollivander asked enthusiastically.

Nevermind, Harry thought, Fleur just didn’t catch the insult.

“Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn … must have been seven-teen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail.” That also surprised Harry. Wasn’t the phoenix feather from his own wand given? Dragon heartstring, fair enough, but Harry was surprised that the man would take unicorn hair by force. “Twelve and a quarter inches … ash … pleasantly springy. It’s in fine condition … you treat it regularly?”

“Polished it last night,” Cedric answered with a grin.

Harry glanced down at his holly wand, at the way it was marred with fingerprints. He felt a shaming urge to clean it, but fought it off. It’s better this way, he tried to insist to himself, no one would suspect a boy who leaves his wand like this would have two wands.

Ollivander tested the wand by producing silver smoke rings, and happily pronounced it in good working order.

Next was Viktor’s turn, and his mood had evidently shifted back to the discomfort of being spectated at. He thrust his wand to Ollivander, scowling at the man the entire time. Perhaps he, like Harry, caught on to the man’s rude words?

“Hmm, this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I’m much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I … however…” He lifted the wand and examined it with a laser focus. “Yes … hornbeam and dragon heartstring?” At this question, Viktor gave a nod. “Rather thicker than one usually sees .. quite rigid … ten and a quarter inches … Avis!”

The spell shot out like gunfire, and suddenly a flock of birds flew out from the end of the wand, and out of an open window.

“Good,” said Ollivander and he handed back Viktor’s wand. “Which leaves … Mister Potter, with another of my creations, of course.”

That he said those words so suddenly, before Harry could even leave his seat, made his mind pause briefly (though his body continued to move forward.) He reached the centre and gave Ollivander his holly wand.

“Aaaah, yes,” his eyes gleamed. “Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember.”

Harry’s own mind flicked back to that day. ‘A particular phoenix wand’. A ‘curious’ one, one who shared a phoenix with Voldemort’s own wand. Harry braced himself just in case such knowledge would be brought to light. He watched as Ollivander examined it carefully, far longer than he had any of the others (quite like his own wand-matching had been). Finally, Ollivander made the wand spurt out a fountain of wine, before handing it back to Harry and deeming it to be in perfect condition.

“Thank you, Mister Ollivander,” said Dumbledore. “That concludes the end of the Wand Weighing ceremony. Now, as I understand it, our lovely reporters here have a few short questions for you all, and there will be a few photos taken.” The way he said ‘short’ was slightly pointed. It seems the Headmaster was as annoyed with the Press being here as he and Viktor were.

“Yes, let’s get started!” Bagman said with excitement. The reporters and photographer had moved off to the side during the ceremony, but each had a glint of excitement as their presence was summoned.

“One question from each reporter at a time would be best,” Mister Wilkins suggested, smiling amicably at the three witches. “Madame Milin, if you would like to start?”

The auburn-haired witch in question gave the wizard a respectable nod. “Yes, ‘ello, everyone. Now, each of you were chosen out of many to compete in ze Tournament. Why do you zink you were chosen, over ozzurs? What skills do you ‘ave zat will make you a strong competitor?”

The other reporters nodded eagerly at the question, quills at the ready. The four students looked at each other quickly, gauging who should answer first. Fleur, it seemed, chose to take the lead.

“I am a strong student, clever, and excellent at fighting when needed. And, because of my family’s skills, I ‘ave strength which my classmates do not possess.”

“I vork hard,” Viktor answered simply. “I am focused to reach my goals.”

“Hmm,” Cedric gave a small smile. “I’m very good at Defence Against the Dark Arts. We had a school-wide competition last year, and my team was one of the best. Though also,” he waved over at the other competitors, giving Harry a slightly apologetic look, for some reason, “all four of us play Seeker in quidditch. I don’t think that that’s a coincidence. I think it shows that our reflexes, determination, and quick-thinking put us above the rest, for this competition, at least.”

That’s what I told him! Harry almost shouted that out. Only one thing held back his tongue, and that was the answer he was already planning to give. “I don’t know why I was chosen, to be honest. Someone put my name in the Goblet of Fire without my consent, and that person used powerful magic to trick the Goblet into forcing me into the tournament as a fourth champion.”

Mrs. Soros’ eyes blazed at that, and her smile was sharp. “Yes, thank you for confirming your side of this situation, Mister Potter. Taking that into consideration, how do each of you feel about the safety measures claimed to have been put into this tournament, compared to its rather violent and deadly history?”

Cedric opened his mouth, then closed it. He and Harry both didn’t have great opinions of the safety measures, clearly.

“It is hard to say,” Viktor answered with a casual shrug. “Ve have been told nothing of de first task, only dat it is to show our courage.”

“Nothing?!”

It was a semi-rhetorical question. Certainly not one considered out of turn, judging by no one’s move to interfere with the extra question.

“We’re trying to prepare as best as we can,” Harry said. “That said, the Tournament is meant to be challenging for a NEWT student, so for someone underage, it will be very dangerous. Personally, my confidence in the tournament’s safety has been low since I was entered against my will, despite my Headmaster’s assurances.”

Fleur and Cedric eventually gave their own answers. Cedric’s answer came out stilted, however, and the other champion gave him odd looks when he was finished with his turn.

Miss Annenkov of the Mudraya Sova then asked them how they are preparing for the tasks, and each champion gave somewhat cagey answers that could be summarized with lots of studying and practicing with friends. Then it was Madame Milin’s turn again.

“I ‘ave a question for ze judges,” she looked pointedly at the judges’ table. “‘istorically, zis Tournament is judged by ze ‘eadmasters alone; and, Monsieur Thoreau, you are a well known as a professional duelist. Why did zis change ‘appen, and ‘ow did you and Mademoiselle Murphy come to join them?”

“Ah,” Mister Wilkins said loudly, “that’s a funny story, actually. We were planning on only having the five of us as the judges,” he gestured to the Headmasters and Mister Bagman, “but then Miss Murphy and Mister Thoreau each wrote me, telling me about their time being judges for another contest at Hogwarts, and I thought- that would be brilliant!”

“Absolutely,” Ludo nodded eagerly.

“He means the defence challenge at Hogwarts last year,” Cordelia Murphy explained. “I actually was surprised to find out there was going to be a Triwizard Tournament, but I was happy to join the judging panel when Chrys asked me.”

Louis Thoreau added to the answer. “My friend, their former defence professor, Luisa Torrero-Ramirez, insisted that I see what potential these children have, and if they have what it takes to join the duelling circuit. I was impressed with what I saw, and two of the graduates are now apprenticing as duelists under my recommendation. Naturally, when I heard about a Triwizard Tournament, I wrote to Mister Wilkins to oversee the Tournament and be a guest lecturer for some of Hogwarts’ defence classes so that I may find more potential apprentices.”

Looks of surprise or intrigued murmurs followed that answer.

“International cooperation is a highlight of the Triwizard Tournament,” Annabella Soros said with a nod. She directed her focus back on the champions. “Since coming to Hogwarts, have any of you made efforts to get to know each other and your international classmates?”

“Definitely!” Harry said with a grin. “I hang out with a friend from Beauxbatons, and I’ve made friends with the Beauxbatons quidditch team.”

“And the four of us are going flying this weekend,” Cedric added.

The foreign Headmasters did not look happy to hear that bit of news.

“Hogvarts has been very velcoming,” Viktor said with surprising politeness. “I study Alchemy and Arithmancy vit odders from bot schools, ven I can.”

Which was a polite way of saying ‘when fangirls aren’t following me into the library’ - based on what Hermione has told him. (She also said that it’s led to her using the Room of Requirement to study more often than not, these days.)

“I do speak with some others,” Fleur said vaguely, “but I mostly keep to myself.”

Annaekov asked the final question of the day, “If you vin de Trivizard Tournament, vot vill you do vith de one thousand galleon prize?”

…Harry never actually considered that. He listened with half an ear as each champion gave their answers: “Help my family,” said Viktor; “Save for the future and buy a new broom,” said Cedric, “Invest and travel,” said Fleur. For Harry, though, he never planned on joining, so he never considered the question before-

“Mister Potter?” Miss Annenkov prompted.

“What? Oh! Sorry-” Everyone was looking at him. Fidgeting, he decided to stall with the truth, “I haven’t considered it before, since I never planned on joining the tournament; but since you’re asking… Hmm… I suppose I’d save it for now and use the money later to rebuild my family properties that were destroyed in the war.”

Soros and Dumbledore’s heads snapped up at that answer. Dumbledore’s expression was mixed and hard to read, yet Soros looked like he just handed her his galleons on a gold platter.

“That concludes the end of the interview,” Dumbledore said, calmly authoritative.

“Yes,” Bagman agreed, “and now photos!”

The photoshoot took ages. The photographer seemed set on having Fleur stand in the middle, while simultaneously struggling to fit Madame Maxime into the frame as all. In the end they settled on having the Headmistress seated in the middle, with the others standing around her. Then individual shots were taken, with some direction from all three reporters for their nation’s representatives. By the time they finally finished, dinner was already well underway.

Harry was eager to head straight over for food, when he was intercepted by the Headmaster. “Ah, Harry, if you could spare a moment?”

Harry slowed in his step, giving the headmaster a nod. “Has there been any progress in finding out who put my name in the Goblet?”

He shook his head sadly. “Alas, I’m afraid I have no answers for that. There is, however, one thing I need to discuss with you- Ah, Garrick, would you like me to escort you to the floo?”

Harry followed Dumbledore’s gaze in confusion. More so as it landed on Mister Ollivander. “I would be delighted,” the wandmaker said happily.

“Come now,” Dumbledore guided both wizards up the hallway, away from where everyone else was going. They turned the corner before Dumbledore spoke again. “It’s rather fortuitous that you could make it, Garrick.”

“Indeed,” Mister Ollivander nodded. “Especially as you’ve been having your own wand troubles of late.”

Wand troubles? Harry thought.

“Yes. After 50 odd years of lack of use, it appears my old wand is no longer a good match for myself.”

“After so many years of being ignored, I’m not surprised that your wand is irritated with you,” said Mister Ollivander. They made their way past the gargoyle, up the stairs, and into Dumbledore’s office. Upon the door closing, Ollivander turned to Harry with an eager gleam. “Now, shall we begin the unofficial wand weighing?”

Harry’s hackles rose at once. “What are you talking about?”

“Your second wand, Mister Potter,” he said. “You do have it on you, I hope?”

“It’s alright, Harry,” Dumbledore raised a placating hand against Harry’s defensive stance. “He only wishes to examine it, as part of the research project we are working on.”

It took a moment for those words to register in his mind, and frustration rose. Did everyone but him get told about this?! “You’ve had it for 50 years. All that time you’ve never asked Mister Ollivander to look into it?”

Dumbledore had the good sense to look abashed by the question. “I confess, only few people ever knew the significance of the wand I won from Grindelwald. I feared what would happen should others come to seek its power.”

“While I’m easy pickings,” Harry said with a pointedly irritated tone.

“I assure you, Mister Potter, we only wish to examine the wand for research purposes. No others beyond our circle will ever know about the wand without your consent.”

Harry did not believe him in the slightest. He already has, what, seven people who know without his consent? He doesn’t like those odds one bit. Unfortunately, he did agree to help with the project. And, who knows, he might learn something useful about the Elder Wand.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he answered reluctantly. He reached into his bag and retrieved the wand from its casing. He handed it to Ollivander, stating clearly, “Just inspecting it,” as he did so.

“Of course,” Ollivander said eagerly, taking the wand in one hand and giving it a twirl. It emitted black sparks, and he gave a shudder. “Fascinating! It truly fights against any who isn’t its Master! …Fifteen inches, a surprisingly large size for any wand, but I suppose… Elder wood, naturally… Thestral hair! An apt core, though thestral hair is quite a tricky core. Few wizards can work with it… Hmm… curious… its flexibility is hard to determine… as though it is both flexible and unyielding.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“Its…” he continued to examine the wand, “Its flexibility matches what Albus has told me, and its own history on changing allegiances to any wizard that has defeated a former master, …and yet… there is something here, I can sense it. As though some part of it holds fast to its original owner. Most curious…”

Both Harry and Dumbledore looked alarmed by this analysis. “When you say ‘its original owner’ do you mean the oldest Peverell Brother, or…”

“I cannot determine a wand’s chain of ownership, Mister Potter. What I can tell you is that whoever first owned this wand could theoretically reclaim it, were he still alive.”

Which every instinct inside of Harry believed that answer led to Death itself. An image of Death holding the wand appeared in his mind, reunited, like an old friend. The thought didn’t help him in the slightest. Not after already having proof of Death having access to the world of the living.

“Oh my!” The voice broke Harry out of his musings. It seems the wand reacted harshly against Ollivander’s attempts at testing a spell. “Truly, a difficult wand to master.” He handed it back quickly to Harry. “You have quite a journey ahead of you with this wand, Mister Potter.”

Harry nodded solemnly, feeling only slightly reassured in having the wand back in his hands. A journey, for sure; but no matter the trepidation in his heart, he knew that, as Master of Death, he was better prepared to face that journey than any of the Elder Wand’s predecessors.

Chapter Text

Saturday November 12th, 1994

Astrid’s look was incredulous, “You want to learn Járnsmiðs Eldurinn?”

“Ya-huh,” Melissa gave a heavy nod. “Lev says it’s what blacksmith’s use to infuse their forge with magic, so I want to learn it.”

Astrid stared at her for a long time. “...You are very strange.”

Melissa gave her a cheeky smile, “So I’ve been told.”

With a face of wide-eyed incredulity, a long breath left her nostrils. “Alright, I guess we learn Járnsmiðs Eldurinn today. You have the sheet music for it?”

Said music was promptly displayed in Melissa’s readied hand. Astrid still looked at her in disbelief, but she was willing to play along and help Melissa build a small fire to get started.

The Blacksmith’s Fire might seem like a strange spellsong for a Londoner to learn, but for Melissa it made perfect sense! From the initial research she did to complete her ISP proposal, she found references to using magic in many stages of amulet creation, among other things. With metallomagy, for instance, many cultures use chants to bolster a forge’s flames. It was a sound idea in Melissa’s mind. Afterall, a phoenix song in itself is its own form of magic, so why wouldn’t she use magic in all stages of her phoenix-based creation?

…Maybe even in the end results?

That particular idea needs more research and experimentation; but it just might work! …Until then, she has to start with learning the basics to bake a parting stone.

“Incendio!” The wood caught in a flash. Its kindling burned up quickly, and the surrounding log cabin wasn’t long to follow. Once the flames looked established, the girls readied their music. “Alright,” she gave the balalaika a quick strum, “let’s play!”

“Ha! Slow down, Melissa. Let us see if you can even say the words properly.”

“Ugh, alright, fine!” This is what I get after accidentally killing some fish, she supposed. Still, it’s not her fault that ð and Þ sound practically the same!

Astrid flashed a laughing smile, but held back actual laughter as she went through the Icelandic chant one line at a time.

“Ég kem til að aðstoða,”

“Ég kem til að aþa-astoða.” On seeing a disapproving look, Melissa whined “Oh, come on, it’s practically a tongue-twister to do that many th’s!”

“Try it again, but slowly.”

“Ugh, fine. Ég kem til að… að-sto-ða.” With a reassuring nod her way, she said it again. “Ég kem til að aðstoða,”

I come to aid

“Eldsmiður.”

“Eldsmiður,” the Fire-Beater. A kenning term for a blacksmith.

“Það þarf eld í þessa smiðju.”

“Þaþ… Það þarf eld í þessa smiðju.”

This forge needs a fire.

“Komdu með styrk sólarinnar.”

“Komdu með styrk sólarinnar,”

Bring the strength of the sun,

“að hita þessa smiðju,”

“að hita þessa smiðju,”

to heat this forge,

“svo að hann megi vopna oss vopnum,”

“svo að hann megi… vopna oss vopnum,”

so that he can arm us with weapons,

“svo hann geti gert galdra.”

“svo hann geti gert galdra.”

So that he can make magic.

Astrid gave her a nod. “Okay, now all together.” They ran through the lyrics a few times until Astrid gave a satisfactory nod. “Good work. Now, we will sing it.”

They moved to focus on the campfire itself. Then, with plucked notes, they sung in unison.

“Ég kem til að aðstoða

Eldsmiður.

Það þarf eld í þessa smiðju.

Komdu með styrk sólarinnar,

að hita þessa smiðju,

svo að hann megi vopna oss vopnum,

svo hann geti gert galdra.”

The fire grew brighter. Emboldened, they repeated the chant. Each time they did so it got hotter and hotter. It got so hot that it suddenly burst high in a loud WHOOSH! They jumped in surprise at the sudden change; and looked on incredulously as the wood burned to a crisp- causing the fire to run out of fuel and die shortly after.

“Umm…” Astrid bit her lip, “this probably works best in a proper smiðja.”

“Yeah… that makes sense.” Melissa gave a nervous chuckle. “I’m half-tempted to see if the groundskeeper has a forge. That’d be useful. Though if he just offers his chimney, we’d probably burn his house down.”

Astrid gave a small snort. “Hopefully we do not do that, but we can ask him. He’s that tall man?”

“Mhmm. Don’t be intimidated by him, though. He’s basically a giant, loud, teddy bear.”

“A what?”

“A toy bear. He’s harmless. Come on, let’s go ask him.”

The girls walked over to Hagrid's hut, slightly shivering as the clouds turned to rain. Perhaps November isn’t the smartest time to be trying to do fire magic outside? All the more reason Melissa was hopeful for an actual forge to practise with.

“Do you think I could pull it off in English?”

“As in, translating Járnsmiðs Eldurinn?”

“Not an exact one, obviously; but if a chant follows the right metre, alliteration pattern, and I throw in a good kenning, does the language used make a difference?”

“Hmm,” Astrid thought it over. “Wizards have made new galdralag songs over the years, and not all are Norse. I suppose it is possible.”

“Wicked!” Melissa grinned as calculative thoughts swirled in her mind, “I’m going to work on that, then. See what can match the music I’ve already written.”

They soon arrived at Hagrid’s hut. She rapped her knuckles against the door, prompting loud barks from Hagrid’s hound. Fortunately it didn’t make it past the big man himself as he opened up the door. “Well ‘ello there, Melissa. Young Miss,” he nodded to Astrid, as both answered with their own greetings. “Come on in, ‘fore ye catch cold.”

The girls gratefully stepped inside, especially so as the groundskeeper already had a fire going. Melissa suppressed a laugh as Astrid looked about the hut in surprise at the size of all of the furniture inside. Melissa covered her by walking close to Hagrid to thank him for his hospitality.

“It’s no trouble. Now, wha’ brings ye girls here?”

“We were wondering if you have a forge somewhere on the grounds?” Melissa asked. “Like, a blacksmith forge to make stuff out of metal.”

“A forge, eh? Hmm… Nope. Can’t say I do. It’d be mighty interesting to learn ‘ow, though.” The man looked thoughtful. “Certainly got the strength for it. Doubt the ‘eadmaster can afford to put one in, though. Bit expensive, innit?”

“Probably,” Melissa agreed. “Never hurts to ask-” her body lurched forward all of a sudden. She managed to catch herself against an armchair, but she looked green with an urge to throw up.

“Blimey! Ye alright, lass?”

“I’m-” words strangled in her throat as she fought the overwhelming sensation of Hallow magic coming from the school. The sensation refused to abate. That said, she worked to push through it. “Ugh, goddammit.” Fucking christ. Why is it hurting now all of a sudden?!

“Are you alright?” Astrid asked.

“Fine,” she winced. “Fine, fine, I’m fine. Just… eughh. Must’ve eaten something off at breakfast.” The others gave her looks of concern, and Hagrid offered her a bucket, just in case. “Thanks.”

“Can I getcha anythin’ else? Tea?”

“Maybe,” her eyes swam a bit, causing her to blink rapidly. Turning her head away from the fire, she spotted a table with liquor on it. “Don’t suppose you got some single-malt whiskey?”

“HA! Whiskey’ll be the las’ thin’ you need,” said Hagrid. Then he winked as he added, “Unless it’s ‘air of the dog tha’ bit ya?”

She grinned with a wince. “Pfft! No, but if you’re offering for the future, I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Hehe, you tell yerself tha, lass.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed two liquor bottles with one hand and put them up on a high shelf.

She smiled knowingly, then her vision swam again. Her head fell to her hands in pain. What the hell is that kid even doing?!

“Should we go back to the castle?” Astrid suggested.

“Ughh, god no! I- I don’t think I can walk that far,” she claimed.

“Let’s see if the Beauxbatons carriage has any medicine, then.”

Hagrid perked up. “Say, now there’s an idea! I’ll escort you righ’ over! Just- eh- one minute-”

While Hagrid went off to grab something, Astrid coaxed Melissa off of the armchair and guided her to the door, stumbling around Fang in the process. By the time they made it down the grass, Hagrid was behind them, holding his pink umbrella and smelling… surprisingly awful. It made her want to throw up for real. “Now ye jus’ ‘ang tight, Melissa. We’ll be a’ the carriage in a jiffy!”

“Ah- sure, Hagrid.” Would it be rude to hold my breath while we walk?

She managed to survive the walk without throwing up. That said, she looked green enough that the Beauxbatons students gave pity upon seeing her to let them step inside. Hagrid looked around, whistling loudly. “Now this is fine livin’!”

It probably was, not that Melissa could see much. The carriage was warm, though, with an expanded interior, and the blue carpet felt plush under her feet, which was very nice and soothing. She could also make out some gold trimming along the furniture, which seemed patterned in a way that was reminiscent of a palace. Likely very French Palace styling, full of flowers and fleur de lis, she bet. She was escorted to a nearby chaise, briefly catching the design of pink roses to confirm her suspicions, before another wave of Hallow magic hit her. She let her body collapse onto the chaise completely.

“What eez wrong with ‘er?” Someone asked softly.

“She thinks she ate bad food at breakfast.”

A boy scoffed, “That’s because it is English food.” Laughter followed that comment.

“I’d laugh, but I can’t,” she moaned with closed eyes. “Can I sleep here for a bit?”

She heard some mutters and shuffling for a bit. There might have been an answer, but she couldn’t be sure. A short moment later, there was a voice closer to her head. “‘Ere. Drink this.”

She cracked an eye open, seeing a boy hold a bottle of liquid the colour of anti-nausea potion. She took it gingerly and gulped it down. She gave a small sigh as the effects began to take hold. “Haaa. Thanks, Mathieu.”

The boy, Mathieu, blinked in surprise. “You’re welcome, Mademoiselle.”

Heh. Guess her French classmates haven’t bothered learning any of their names yet. “Melissa.”

“Melissa,” he parroted.

She moved to sit up, only to flinch back as another (now less oppressive) wave hit her. Keeping her eyes closed, she forced on a smile. “So, while this kicks in, what are you all up to?”

It took nearly two hours before Harry let up using the Hallows. He must have stopped for lunch; a fact which Melissa was eternally grateful for as she found herself seated among the Beauxbaton wizards for a light lunch at the carriage. Conversations had flowed steadily over the morning. They talked about classes, both here and at home; Christmas plans; summer hobbies; anything and everything- so long as they didn’t talk about the Triwizard Tournament or her being ill. It was a blessed relief.

“‘ave you eaten crêpes before?” Mathieu asked.

“Real ones made by fellow Frenchmen, of course,” Marguerite added in a snooty tone.

“Yeah, but not since-” Melissa’s voice stopped as reality caught up with her. “Oh. Not yet. I’m going to Brest sometime in the future. I have some then.”

A combination of confusion and muttered comments flitted across the table.

Marguerite, at least, gave an approving nod. “Bretagne eez ze best place to ‘ave zem.”

“Too true,” Melissa nodded. “For crêpes and galettes. Oo! My mouth is watering just thinking about how good those cookies will taste! Do you have any?”

Snorts of laughter followed the rambled begging. That said, Melissa was rewarded with a promise to have some made next time she visits the carriage. If she wasn’t recovering from two hours of pain, she’d have danced for joy!

“Bennett?” Melissa turned to the sound of her name. Standing at the doorway was one of her Ravenclaw classmates, Leonora Rosethorn, with one of the Beauxbaton boys at her arm. “What are you doing here?”

“Having a nice lunch with my new friends,” she said casually. “Care to join us?”

Leonora looked to the Beauxbaton boy, first, gauging his feelings on the invitation. Before either could answer, Jean-Luc commented, “I think your friend and Armand ‘ave an appetite for different things.”

A few people snickered at the comment. Armand did not, but he certainly gave an amused smirk. Leonora, on the other hand, went bright red and angry. “That’s indecent! I would never!”

“Never?” Jean-Luc teased. “Malheur à vous, Armand, your fiancée plans to give you a cold bed.”

Fiancée?! Melissa looked at Leonora in confusion as the snickering and arguments of premarital chastity went back and forth. I know Rosethorn and I don’t hang out, but when did that happen?!

“Uhhh, congratulations?”

A few people looked at Melissa oddly at that, including Armand and Leonora. That is, until Leonora rolled her eyes, “We’ve been engaged since I turned eleven, Bennett.”

“Really?!”

“Of course,” Leonora huffed. “Our families have known each other for years, they have been planning our engagement since I was five.”

Armand gave a deep chuckle. “I think our mothers planned an engagement of their children before they were married themselves,” he said with barely a hint of an accent.

This time even Melissa snickered with that comment. “And you two are okay with that?”

Leonora squeezed Armand’s hand, and they gave each other a communicating look before she answered, “Engagements like ours aren’t common, but what we have works for us.”

If they say so. Melissa gave a simple nod. “Hmm, okay then.”

The young couple settled themselves on the table, and gave an opportunity for Armand to change the subject. “There’s word from the Hogwarts team that Delacour and the other champions are doing a quidditch challenge at 14 o’clock.”

“All of zem?”

“For seekers?”

On hearing Armand answer in the affirmative, one of the boys whistled. “Against Krum? Delacour doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Still, eet will be fun to watch.”

“C’est vrai”

“We should go, too,” Astrid suggested to Melissa.

Melissa nodded, considering the idea. It’s been a while since she’s seen Harry. She half-hoped to see him yesterday when she dropped off her ISP proposal to Snape after his last class. Unfortunately (or perhaps not), it turns out Harry had been called away for some Champions’ meeting. Maybe this time she’ll have better luck checking in on him? “Sure. Sounds fun!”

Word must have spread across Hogwarts that morning. By the time two o’clock rolled around, the quidditch pitch was filled with spectators. Some were wearing clothes of school pride, while a handful of others were wearing paraphernalia for the Bulgarian national team. Melissa found the sight incredibly amusing, wondering how many of those items were mailed over by parents over this last fortnight.

“So what is a seeker-based game, anyways?” She asked.

Astrid shrugged in answer, while another witch from Beauxbaton answered, “Eet will be like practise, I zink. A race to collect many small balls in ze air.”

“Hmm, not all that fun,” Melissa muttered. Still, she convinced herself it was worth staying here.

“ZAIR ZEY ARE!” Someone shouted, and all in hearing distance turned towards the quidditch entrance.

There were Harry and Cedric along with Krum and Delacour. …As well as a dozen other people in quidditch gear. She recognized enough of them to get the gist of what was about to go down. “They have to dodge the beaters,” she commented. “Oh, this will be fun!”

The crowd cheered at their arrival, an act which seemed to confuse the Champions from the way they stopped walking and talking. The twins then shoulder-bumped the Hogwarts Champions, which got them moving again. The beaters were all holding quidditch chests with one hand while carrying brooms in the other. They moved about to various parts of the pitch, then released the bludgers and snitches once in position. The seekers, who had congregated in the centre of the pitch, readied themselves up on their brooms.

*SHRIIIIIIII!*

They were off in a flash! The seekers flew in all directions, in all elevations, and all focus was set on the mission, even as people cheered and called to witness various manoeuvres.

Then the beaters got to work. The slam of bat-on-ball echoed across the pitch as the beaters rained metal on the champions. It was interesting, Melissa noted, to see that the beaters were focused on proximity of the champions, and not on their school affiliations. Which is good, of course, otherwise Krum and Delacour would be fucked.

“CEDRIC’S SPOTTED A SNITCH!”

People zeroed in on that shout. Cedric was beelining on an upward slope towards one of the towers. Delacour must have heard the shout, as she soon turned and sped towards him.

“GO! GO! GO!”

It was a race of champions- and of bludgers. The beaters had also caught on, and angled their bats towards the two of them. Cedric had to dodge two bludgers seconds apart. Delacour dodged a third, spiralling upwards and into a twist back on track in a way that made the crowd go ‘oo’. A fourth bludger missed Cedric by the edge of his nose. With that, both seekers missed their chance as the snitch vanished out of sight.

Melissa released a breath. “Hot damn, that was close!”

“POTTER’S AFTER ANOTHER ONE!”

Her head whipped to find the next chase. Harry was zooming down, another rain of bludgers after him.

One bludger-

Two bludger-

Three bludger-

Krum!

Krum came in at an angle and snagged the snitch within metres of Harry!

And the crowd went wild! All of them shouting, “KRUM! KRUM! KRUM! KRUM!”

He held the snitch aloft, his expression looking resolute more than anything else. Then he had to duck as another snitch nearly hit his head.

“They’re going after him still?!” Astrid asked, sounding incredulous.

“I guess so.”

They watched as Krum dodged bludgers on his way off the pitch. Though it wasn’t long before Delacour and Harry went racing for another one.

Both competitors were as unlucky as before, as Delacour’s broom and one of Harry’s legs each got clipped by bludgers. Delacour went spinning out of control, but Harry was able to persist. The snitch dipped downward. Serendipitously, as Harry moved down to follow it, another bludger zipped from behind, right over where his head had just been. Harry moved on without notice, speeding quickly until he snagged the second snitch of the day. Calls of “POT-TER! POT-TER! POT-TER!” followed him off the pitch.

With two seekers gone, a disadvantage was realized as the beaters continued their efforts on half the number of champions. Each champion was hit by at least two more bludgers before Delacour caught the third, though she was hit again from behind before completing her escape.

With only Cedric left, it was all out war against him. He dodged and spun, focusing on survival over snitch-catching. The crowd was eating it up as he led one bludger into hitting a beater off his broom; then again as he somehow got two bludgers to slam into each other, creating a loud DONG as they ricocheted and caught another beater unawares. It took ages before he was able to get the last snitch, but by that point he had out-manouevred six beaters off their brooms; and the crowd was loving every second of it!

When Cedric made it back to the pitch’s entrance, the crowd went loud, calling every Champion’s name in wild cheers. It did the trick, as the beaters cajoled the four champions into returning to the pitch. The four flew about, waving to the crowd as they passed. The four re-grouped at the centre. They were out of earshot, but Melissa could see a friendly energy about them as they grinned while speaking to each other. Cedric nudged Krum playfully, an act that seemed oddly acceptable for the usually moody teen as Krum gave him a challenging smile and shook Cedric’s hand. Harry and Delacour were helixing their brooms around each other, calling out some sort of teasing as they passed by.

It was an endearing sight, watching the four of them fly away as they exchanged teasing barbs. Though Melissa never got the chance to speak to Harry that day, and concerns warred in her mind, it was that image she held onto as the days went by.

Chapter Text

Monday November 14th, 1994

“The Boy-Who-Lived Fights for His Life! -by Rita Skeeter … To read about the Triwizard Champions, see Page 4.” Domonkos flipped down the upper half of the paper, a look of disgust in his eyes. “How is it that my mother gets the job of Hogwarts Correspondent, yet this nail-clacking slag can write the front-page news about what goes on at Hogwarts?”

“...Because she’s a nail-clacking slag?” Jacinth answered unhelpfully.

“It’s ridiculous! She wasn’t even here on Friday! If anything, Potter’s story is exactly the sort of campaign my mother would support.”

“Maybe she only had time to do one article?” Jacqueline suggested as she went over her own paper. “She wrote a two page spread about the champions and the tournament. That’s a lot of work.”

“Which is worth the front page. And she could have done both articles in her sleep! Again, Skeeter wasn’t there. It’s her story to write, not this bitch’s.” He turned over to Melissa. “You agree with me, right?”

“What?” Melissa shook away her thoughts. “Sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you just called someone a ‘bitch’ and a ‘nail-clacking slag’ in one go.”

Snorts of laughter followed that comment. Even Garrick turned his head away to try to stave off some laughter.

“She’s got a point,” Amy laughed, “I’ve never heard you swear like that before.”

“And,” Domonkos gestured towards the paper, “it’s worth it.”

The laughter continued, with no objections to follow.

“Hmm, that’s interesting,” Garrick said as he looked over the front page. “Though sweet Harry hesitated to imagine himself winning the tournament, the young orphan said that he would use the grand prize to rebuild his family homes that were destroyed in the war.” Garrick glanced over at Melissa, “I had no idea that was something Potter was looking into.”

“Yeah, he’s been working on that for, like, a year now. Abbott, Malfoy, and some other rich kids have been helping him design an improved manor, plus the cottage in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Potter Cottage?” Garrick said, with a note of shock. “I’ve seen the damage wrought to it. Can it even be repaired after being destroyed by such dark magic?”

“Heh,” Amy scoffed under her breath, “I doubt that kind of thing can stop Potter.”

“Exactly!” Melissa said cheerily. “It’s his family home. I’m sure he’ll find a way to get it all fixed up. Hell, even if he doesn’t win, I’m sure he can hire a construction company to get it done.”

Snide or unmoved looks were exchanged between half of the cohort, …beyond Melissa’s notice, of course.

Rusalka waved off the exchange. With a click of her tongue, she moved on to other things, “Melissa, is it true you’re helping the Durmstrang kids throw a party?”

“Yeah,” Melissa grinned widely, “it’s Lev’s birthday on Friday. Karkaroff’s a stick in the mud and will never let them throw a party on the ship, so I’ve commandeered a party room in the castle and convinced the house elves to make snacks for everyone.”

“Oh, fun!” Adrian said with a sudden smile. “Can we come?”

“Of course! I figure we might as well make it an open invitation for all us NEWT kids, plus the exchange students.”

“That’s a lot of people,” Jacqueline noted. “Are you sure you can find a space big enough if most people decide to come?”

Her answer came with a wiggle of eyebrows. “Trust me, I already have the perfect place in mind.”

Friday November 18th, 1994

At breakfast Melissa glided over to the Durmstrang contingent with a smile, “Hey, Birthday Boy!” She gave Lev a hug, which surprised the boy for a moment before he returned it with a free arm. A couple of the other students snickered at the somewhat awkward and friendly exchange, which Melissa opted to ignore. “How’s your morning going? Are you excited for tonight?”

“Of course,” Lev said with a grin, “and I’m doing vell. Even better vit such a ‘good morning’.”

“Well, hey, it’s not everyday you have a birthday.” Melissa giggled. “I’ve been prepping for it all week to make sure it’s awesome!”

Lev blinked in surprise. “All veek?”

“Yep! I had to make sure things would work just right.”

There came a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, really? And vy is zat?”

“It’s a surprise,” she answered with a wink, “but I know you’ll love it!”

He chuckled, “Hehe, I’m sure I vill.”

“Mhmm!” She gave him a playful nudge and chirped, “I’ll see you later”, before standing up and flouncing over to her dorm-mates.

Rusalka, who bordered between the two groups, eyed her with a look of confusion. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, just teasing Lev about his birthday surprise. Not that he knows what it is, of course.”

“Right,” she said slowly. Of course, as her dorm-mates already knew about the plan, Rusalka moved on by turning over to one of the Durmstrang boys nearby and starting a new conversation in Russian.

To her side, Jacinth looked visibly annoyed, more so as the two started to snicker. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she said casually, before making another comment in Russian, making the Durmstrang boy grin and nod in the process.

Jacinth glowered at the two of them, stabbing at his breakfast, yet said nothing as the meal wore on.

Divination class dragged as Melissa stared at the amalgamation of twigs on her table. Her voice moved like music in a whispering wind, “This is really~ not~ my thing~.”

“Could be worse,” Sierra said in a hushed tone.

“It will be worse. After this we’re doing divination with mice and rats.”

“Eww! Is that what myomancy means?”

“Mhmm!”

Sierra cringed, quietly complaining, “That’s so weird!”

Melissa gave a solid nod; and then, once more, looked over the arrangement of twigs, struggling over sets of conflicting xylomancy notes from the textbook to figure out what it all means. A moment later she was distracted by a note passed to their table with her name on it. Once ensuring the coast was clear, Melissa opened it and read the note.

Is Adrian seeing anyone?

She looked around the room, catching Juliet looking at her expectantly. Confused, she scribbled under the note.

I thought you were dating Cedric?

The note returned through the chain of students.

We broke up in October.

Well that was a surprise; but she supposed that left things open to follow canon.

As far as I know, he’s not dating anyone.

The note moved through the chain, only stopping as Professor Trelawney walked over to their side of the classroom. “Miss Delacour, if you could kindly read the note in your hand, please?”

The chain cringed, embarrassed at having been caught. Juliet, especially, flushed with horror at the request. Even Delacour gave a nervous frown, especially as she opened the note, causing all of the girls to glare daggers at her in response.

Delacour read over the letter, silently to herself. Her eyes widened with interest. Then, in a surprise motion, she let the letter burst to flame in her hand. “Oh! Sorry, Professor. Eet must ‘ave been enshanted.”

“That’s alright, my dear. As long as you did what I asked.” She looked around the class, “Please refrain from passing notes, everyone. I would hate to have to assign detention to any of you.”

Part of the class went back to their work. Others, however, looked at Delacour with a newfound respect in their eyes. Delacour, in turn, looked over at Juliet with a kind smile, and an ‘Okay’ gesture in lieu of Melissa’s answer. Juliet looked over at Melissa, who confirmed the message with a nodding smile. Juliet beamed at the response and gave Delacour a warm smile in return.

Melissa and Jacqueline skipped dinner entirely to ensure that the party would be ready for seven o’clock. She passed through the hallway three times with intent, revealing the door to the Room of Requirement. With the party space manifested, they got right to work adjusting the decorations and directing the house elves towards food and drink preparations.

“This place is amazing!” Jacqueline commented as they worked. “We should have used this last year for our post-O.W.L.s party.”

“We should have,” Melissa agreed, “but I’d rather the Twins not find out how to get into this room. It’s where I practise my music.”

“What?! You mean this is the Chamber of Secrets?!?!”

“What?! NO! It’s the Room of Requirement! It just gives you whatever space you need at the moment. It’s also where I go swimming when I have the chance.”

Jacqueline dropped her wand arm, looking at her incredulously. “You have a private place to go swimming, and you didn’t tell any of us?”

“This from the prefect with the private bathroom,” Melissa teased. “Also, in my defence, I had Snape walk in on me the first time I tried it- while I was changing,” she said, to Jacqueline’s horror. “Can you blame me for not wanting to spread word around?”

“Oh, Mother of Magic! That must have been awful!”

“And embarrassing as all hell. Better off leaving this place as a semi-secret party room. Maybe even use it for my birthday this year.”

“I suppose…” Jacqueline shuddered, that imagery with Snape still in her mind. “At least this time you can enjoy it instead of giving your birthday up for everyone else to celebrate.”

“I guess, but it wasn’t so bad. I ended up celebrating it later with my muggle friends. We even got champagne since it was my champagne birthday.”

“Champagne… birthday?”

“Ah- it’s when your age matches the day of the month,” she explained. “I turned 16 and my birthday’s the 16th of June, so this was my champagne year.”

“Oh. That’s a sweet notion. It’s a shame I was too young for my own birthday.” A pause fell, before Jacqueline spoke again. “Will you be serving champagne tonight? I believe I heard someone mention that Poliakoff is eighteen now.”

“He is?” Melissa considered that for a moment. “Huh. Right. He’s in his seventh year. I guess that makes sense. …Hmm, right. Excuse me, Bonzy?” A house elf appeared at her side. “Can you bring champagne to the party? It’s part of a foreign custom for the birthday boy, and I want to be sure we celebrate it correctly.”

The house elf eyed her suspiciously. “Bonzy be bringing champagne, but only for the wizard with the birthday!”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Bonzy.”

Bonzy poofed out of the room, and Melissa flashed Jacqueline a smile, “Mission accomplished!”

“Ah, Mathilde, Mathieu, bonjour et bienvenue! Linnea, Vaino, dobro pozhalovat'! Ru, Amy, Brodny, welcome to the party!”

Brodny gave her an amused smile. “Do you know everyone at this school?”

“What can I say, I’m just amazing!” Melissa teased.

Amy chimed in, “She’s also part of the Valentine club, so she basically has to know everyone.”

Melissa snickered, more or less acknowledging the truth of Amy’s statement.

“Valentine club?”

“I’ll explain in a bit. First, wanna get some drinks?” Amy pulled at Brodny’s arm, directing him and Rusalka to follow her to the drinks table.

Melissa’s attention went back to the door as another pair walked in, arm in arm, much to her surprise. “Patricia… et Julien. Bienvenue. I didn’t expect to see you here, Stimpson.”

Patricia Stimpson blushed, looking down nervously. “I, uh, I wasn’t planning to, but…”

“But I told this beautiful lady that she needs time to have fun,” the Beauxbaton chaser answered with a teasing smile.

The Hogwarts girl squeaked, blushing deeper and struggling over the compliment. Melissa could only smile and move to spare the nervous bookworm, “Well I’m glad you were able to make it. Come on in. Make yourselves at home.”

Her eyes followed them as the pair entered the space, an endearing smile brightening her face. 

“You look pleased with yourself.”

She turned, allowing her smile to grow sly towards Garrick. “Hey, it’s nice seeing everyone get along with the exchange students. There’s quite a few mixed couples I’ve seen so far.”

“I’m not surprised,” Garrick said idly. His eyes roamed about the room, not saying anything else.

“Don’t suppose you have your eyes set on any of our lovely new classmates, hmm?”

Garrick gave a small laugh, then shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I don’t suppose you have any recommendations?”

“Hmm,” Melissa mulled over the thought. “I don’t know everyone super well yet…” She shrugged, “Why not talk to Astrid Wikström?”

He seemed suspicious of this request. “Your new friend?”

“Yeah. She’s intelligent, patient, hard-working, and has a healthy balance of when to be serious and when to have fun. You can use a dose of that.” Her description didn’t seem enough to sway him, so she gave him a playful nudge, “Come on, Little Lord, live a little! Have some fun!”

He flashed her a look, then rolled his eyes, before a small smile went to his lips. “Fine, but just to see if we get along.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, dude.”

He gave her a confused look at being called ‘dude’, but eventually walked away -hopefully to find Astrid, or at least some nice witch to hang out with.

Another voice welcomed her at the door. “Hey Mel!”

“Hey Ced- oh, and- Fleur?” Her brain record-scratched as she noticed Cedric arm-in-arm with Fleur Delacour, of all people. Cedric seemed as cheerful as ever, yet Fleur herself looked like the cat who got the canary. “...Hi.” Melissa shook her head. “Sorry, just surprised, is all. Welcome to the party.”

“Thanks!”

“Merci,” Delacour gave a slight nod of the head before tossing her hair back and walking with Cedric further into the room. Voices grew notably quieter as people spotted the Champions walk in as a couple. If it were possible, Delacour seemed to look even more regal as more eyes fell on them.

Other voices muttered at the doorway, theirs being a small argument about attendance by the sound of it. Melissa wasn’t fully paying attention, as her eyes were still on the Champions. Then one voice grew loud at her side. “Hey Melissa,” she turned to acknowledge the witch, mildly surprised to see Tracey Davies, “there’s no rule about no fourth years at this party, right?”

“Uh, nope?” Her eyes flicked up, spotting Greengrass, Malfoy, Zabini, and a few Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors practically holding Harry and Hermione in place under protest. It was an amusing sight, one that mingled with her current emotions and the surprise of seeing Harry for once in who knows how long.

“Hey, Houdini, here’s a Magdalene Moment for you,” she gestured towards Cedric and Fleur, “if those two are together, there’s a pretty good chance that Chang’s single right now.”

“Chang?” Malfoy looked confused, as did the others. …Except for Harry, who immediately looked beet-red. A fact which Malfoy and Zabini caught on to. “As in Cho Chang?”

Zabini looked positively gleeful. “Do you have a crush on her?”

“Shut up!” Harry said through his teeth, glaring daggers at Zabini. 

Zabini, in turn, started laughing. “Oh, this is great! Is Chang here, yet?”

“Yep! I saw her go that way,” Melissa pointed. “Be sure to be a good wingman, alright?”

“Will do! Come on, Mister Champion, let’s get you a date!”

“Wait- guys- no-!” Harry was immediately dragged into the room by half of his friends, his protests fully ignored the whole way in.

After a large number of NEWT students arrived, Melissa stepped away from greeting guests to actually enjoying the party herself. She talked with friends, joined the musicians in a couple of songs, and caught up on a much missed dinner. A little after 8 o’clock, she decided it was time for the surprise entertainment. She approached the far wall, where the room had installed a stone stage flanked by two tall braziers. She gave the band a signal, letting them know to take a break after their current song. When finished, they stepped off of the stage so Melissa could take over. She readied her balalaika, then cast a sonorus on herself.

“ATTENTION PARTIERS!” The crowd hushed with only mild chatter moving between them. “FIRST OFF, LET’S HAVE A CHEER FOR THE BIRTHDAY BOY, EH? GIVE IT UP FOR LEV POLIAKOFF!”

Applause and shouts of “happy birthday” rang through the room. It took a moment to actually spot Lev through the crowd, but once she did, she gave him a wave and stepped near the edge.

“NOW, LEV, IF YOU CAN STAND RIGHT UNDER THAT CHANDELIER. YEP, THAT ONE. I HAVE A SURPRISE GIFT FOR YOU. A PIECE OF ENTERTAINMENT FOR YOU AND EVERYONE TO ENJOY.” 

And a chance to show off, went unsaid.

She dispelled the sonorus, yet her words that followed were still loud as she strummed the instrument and began to sing a slow tune.

“This music-mover needs to twirl,

While joined by twins,

For festive flair.

I cast on these elementals,

To be my sisterly ensemble,

Come join my company,

To step in my set,

As a true-footed troupe,

I deign you to dance!

The flames WHOOSED high! At once, Melissa could feel a connection between herself and the brazier flames, a connection which let her know that the spell had taken hold. After a pause, the balalaika continued to play a slow tune. She swayed in place for a moment, then raised her knee high before taking a dramatic step down the stairs.

And voices gasped as legs of fire emerged from the braziers.

Another step. A step, again. Twin women of flame emerged from the braziers, walking on empty air in line with Melissa’s steps. On reaching the floor, the pace quickened, but only slightly. With it, Melissa slid and swayed across the dance floor, At every sixteenth beat, her arms raised to a loud clap, the twins moving in unison. The pace quickened again, this time with the band rejoining on the sidelines. With more room for musical rest, so to speak, Melissa was free to act wilder in the dance. Arms and legs and hips and shoulders all moving to give the flames a more sultry and ethereal appearance. Everytime she moved far to either side, the crowd wowed as the fire-women got closer to them. It was a balancing act to ensure that the flames never got too close, but it was fun getting the flames to dance around groups of people. 

The music got fast closer to the finale. She skipped down the room, down to the chandelier Lev stood under. She could see the delight on his face as they got closer, and a fun idea struck her. She moved far to her right, allowing one of the flame-women to dance around him. Then she herself skipped towards him, doing a similar dance around him, smirking at him all the while and even flashing a wink before skipping away so that the second twin could do the same. When the triplet of circles finished, she moved back towards the centre of the room, just in time for the song to reach its dramatic end. 

Like the woosh of the braziers, the crowd erupted into wild applause! Melissa drank in it, she and her fiery twins bowed to each side of the audience, milking it for longer applause. Then, credit where credit is due, did a final motion towards the band for their own accolades, before giving a final strum on the balalaika to dispel the twins to smoke.

At that moment, a body rushed at her from behind, grabbing her and spinning her in the air. 

“ZAT VOS INCREDIBLE!” Lev shouted in her ear. Her slight panic abated as she caught onto his voice and excitement, eliciting a laugh from her instead. The spinning slowed, allowing her feet to stumble onto the ground while they still moved in a circle. “I have never seen- zat you can do zat- and so quickly!” 

They stopped spinning. It gave her a moment to turn her head up to see his expression. What she saw made her grin. “I take it you like your gift?”

“Like it?! Zat vos amazing! You are amazing!” Then his expression seemed to sneer. “Your skills are vasted at Hogvarts. You should come to Durmstrang. You vood be ze best of everyvon!”

Hot damn, Melissa wasn’t sure whether to be smug or embarrassed by his level of praise. She was kind of struck dumb by it, her smile growing both tighter and deep with emotion.

“Heh, as if that would ever happen.” Both Lev and Melissa turned their heads to see one of her more bigoted classmates, Alex Sykes, looking at them with disdain. Other people in earshot stopped talking to openly stare at his audacity. “What? I’m just calling things as it is. Durmstrang doesn’t accept muggleborns in their school. It’d be pointless to even try.”

“...Muggleborns?” Lev asked. He looked down at Melissa. He didn’t seem to be asking her, specifically, he just seemed confused by the word in general.

“My parents don’t have magic,” she explained, “so they’re called muggles. Since I have magic, but they don’t, I’m a muggleborn witch.”

An odd silence fell between them. He seemed puzzled over the information, though she wasn’t sure if it was the same as how he is when learning other English terms. Then, he muttered, “Oh,” and the arms around her squeezed tighter as he gave her a smile, “Zen zat is Durmstrang’s loss, too.”

His answer made her smile brilliantly, “Heck yeah, it is!”

With that, the awkward silence of the crowd ended. People moved on to new conversations, or congratulated Melissa (and Lev) on the night. The band restarted the music, and Lev took that opportunity to ask her to dance. Melissa obliged, handing her instrument over quickly to Jacqueline before joining Lev on the dancefloor.

“You really are a genius,” Lev said. “I just noticed, you sang in English. I didn’t know zat vos possible.”

“Neither did I,” Melissa admitted, “It’s why I spent so much time working on it to make sure the words and music fit just right. Now that I know it works, I think I’m going to try to write more spells from now on.”

“If zey are anything like vot you made tonight, zey vill be spectacular!” He spun her around, making her laugh with joy. As the music ended and started anew, Lev seemed pensive. “I vos vondering,” he said slowly, “zair is a trip tomorrow, vair ve can see an English village, yes?”

“Yeah. It’s called Hogsmeade Village. We get to go there a few times a year.”

“Yes. Hogsmeade,” he nodded. “Vant to visit together? You can give me a tour of ze village?”

“Sure! That’d be awesome!” Melissa agreed. “Meet me at the entrance. That’s where the carriages will be to take us there.”

A plan formulated, the two continued to dance for the rest of the song. Melissa then begged off to grab a drink. She grabbed a ladle-full of fizzy soda, then scanned the nearby group of teens. She eventually spotted Jacqueline and Jacinth standing together against the wall. Both looked unhappy, which didn’t bode well to Melissa, so she made her way over to them.

Both Slytherins, she found, were staring unhappily in two different directions. Jacinth’s direction was pretty obvious. He was glaring daggers over to where some Durmstrang students were chatting, and Rusalka was at the centre of it all talking with a couple of the boys.

“If you’re that annoyed, you can just ask her to dance,” Melissa commented over the music.

“I don’t dance!” Jacinth said petulantly.

“Well, that’s your loss; but if you want to spend time with Ru you have to actually spend time with her and not skulk around like a ghoul.”

“What did you say?!” Jacinth whirled on her.

Her own expression was flat. “You can spend time with your girlfriend and her friends without being a child about it,” she said blankly. “Go on, talk to her. This is a party. Have fun with it.”

His own expression flattened, but it must have worked as Jacinth pushed off the wall and staked over to the Russian contingent. And now for my next wallflower…

Melissa leaned against the wall, following Jacqueline’s gaze out to the dance floor. Sure enough, her eyes were focused on a Beauxbatons boy… dancing with Lucy. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yes?” Jacqueline fussed for a moment, handing Melissa back her balalaika as a distraction. 

“Come on, Jacqueline. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” she looked forlornly at the dance floor. “I was hoping to dance with some friends, but…” She cut herself off, looking guilty. “Is it wrong to be jealous when your friends are busy with boys?”

Does she still not…? “Your feelings are okay, so long as you don’t be mean about it later. Though… I wonder…” She considered her words carefully, “Are you jealous of Lucy, or are you jealous of that boy?”

Her expression was a bit hard to read. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean… Do you wish you were in her shoes, or wish you were in his shoes?”

At that moment, the boy leaned close, whispering something in Lucy’s ear. Jacqueline began to blush. “I-” She bit her lip, looking away from the scene. She looked alarmed and laughed nervously as she stuttered, “I don't know what- wanting to be in his shoes? What- that doesn’t make sense.”

Melissa gave a sad smile, “Are you sure it doesn’t?”

It was clear, as Jacqueline’s eyes filled with panic, that this was the first time anyone’s ever had this kind of conversation with her. A shot of pity lanced through her. “Let’s go for a walk. You can think about it for a bit. I won’t say anything.”

Jacqueline nodded wordlessly, following her out into the hall. Their steps echoed, the emptiness of the hall apparent as the Room ensured the party was soundproof. After a turn, Jacqueline spoke. “Is… is that alright? Being jealous of a wizard?”

“In many ways, including matters of the heart.”

A few more steps followed. “I don’t understand,” she said haltingly, “If it’s alright- why have I never heard of anyone being this way?”

Oh- shit- I have to tell her, don’t I? She really didn’t want to be the one to tell her. Alas, she’s already put the thought into Jacqueline’s head, she might as well explain it fully. “That’s because it’s not legal. Witches and wizards only, never two witches or two wizards.” The admission put a new panic in Jacqueline’s eyes. “There are those who do, but in secret. Live a life as a spinster, with a roommate who also never marries, and how many people are really going to check the number of beds in the flat?”

“But… if it’s against the law,” Jacqueline asked desperately, “then why…?”

“Because love, Jacqueline,” she smiled gently, “because love. Love is all you need,” those last words, sung as the Beatles, were the last words said for a long time.

Rusalka scowled as she marched into their dorm room, “I turn my back for one second, and you go off snogging my cousin!”

Amy, on the other hand, grinned triumphantly. “Hey, he’s fit; and I didn’t hear him complaining.”

“No loyalty amongst witches! Honestly!”

“Come on, Ru. Not every girl is trapped with a bloke already.” Amy then gave Melissa a sly look. “What about yourself? You seemed to be having fun tonight.”

“Hmm? Well, obviously. As if I’m not going to have fun at my own part,” Melissa said with a grin.

“Sure, sure…” A few seconds passed before Amy spoke again. “You used to have a thing for Myron Wagtail, right?”

Melissa immediately went bright red. She turned to Jacqueline, aghast. “I told you that in confidence!”

The other three snickered. “Sorry!” Jacqueline said through her laughter. “It was a long time ago. I didn’t think you still liked him.”

“I mean, I’d never date him. He’s practically a decade older than me. It’s just… umm…”

Amy answered instead, “He’s a pretty boy with long, brown hair, delicate features, and plays music.” She paused for a beat, enough to catch Melissa with her head down and blushing furiously. “I wonder if there are any boys our age who are like that?”

“Maybe not our age,” Rusalka commented, “a bit older would be better. Say, eighteen years old.”

“That would be good,” Jacqueline agreed. “Someone handsome, friendly, and playful. That would be perfect for her. Now, who would match that description?”

“Nope!” Melissa called out. “We’re not talking about my love life right now! I said what I said about not dating anyone at Hogwarts, and I’m sticking with it!” She then fled to the loo to stave off the growing embarrassment and end the conversation once and for all.

“Do you think she figured it out?” Amy asked.

“I doubt it,” Rusalka answered. “She can be a bit oblivious sometimes.”

“I don’t know…” Jacqueline frowned, “Are you sure this is a good idea? She did divine that she’ll never date anyone.”

“No, she said she doesn’t date anyone from Hogwarts, or Britain in general,” said Amy. “That doesn’t mean she’s never going to date. She just hasn’t realized her Sight has a loophole.”

“Plus, if this works, it’ll distract her away from Potter,” Rusalka added. “And you agree that she needs to stay away from him to be safe, right?”

Jacqueline wringed her dress. “That’s true. …But what if this doesn’t work?”

“We’re Slytherins,” Amy said with a smirk, “we can come up with plans for any problem.”

*BAM!*

They stopped talking as Melissa slammed the door open and ran back into the room in a state of panic. “Guys! I think I accidentally agreed to go on a date?!”

Chapter Text

Saturday November 19th, 1994

The panic of the night before returned in a flash come morning. Melissa found herself pacing and jittery in her dorm room, unable to even dress without freaking out further.

“Question,” Amy asked with full amusement, “if you’re so sure you don't like him, then what was that whole sexy fire-lady dance about?”

Her face pinched as the obvious argument hit her like a train. “I wanted to show off what I can do with that balalaika. Lev wants to buy it and I figured a big show would help to up the price.”

Stuttered laughter went about the room. “And what about all the flirting?” Rusalka asked.

“What flirting?!”

Rusalka’s chin dropped with a look of amusement and disbelief, “The flirting you two have been doing for a while now.”

“I have? No I haven’t! …Have I?”

The laughter returned, and Amy gave her a grin. “Sounds to me like you’ve been flirting subconsciously. You really do like him, but part of you just hasn’t noticed yet.”

Melissa’s mind was screaming. How can she have been- If she’s been flirting subconsciously, enough for other people to think she’s been flirting, then that means- “Fucking teenage hormones!” she muttered under her breath. Louder, she addressed them, “What do I do?! I don’t even know for sure if this is a date?”

“Plan for the worst, hope for the best?” Jacqueline suggested.

“The worst being that this is a date,” Rusalka unhelpfully teased. “Wear something cute and, if it’s not a date, you just play it off like you like to dress nice for outings.”

Melissa whined, “But if it is a date, he might try… dating things.” Jesus Christ, did she really just refer to intimacy as ‘dating things’?

Amy rolled her eyes. “No one’s asking you to shag a wizard on the first date.” The comment made Melissa squeak, to her continued embarrassment. “If anything, being all shy and nervous is to your benefit. He’ll think it’s adorable.”

Melissa went red as her face fell into her hand. “Kill me now!”

Though her face was obscured, she could hear the ‘helpfully suggestive’ tone in Jacqueline’s voice, “I think a makeover and dressing up would kill her.”

“Perfect. We’ll grant her wish, then.”

Oh god, what am I getting myself into?!

Oh god, what am I getting myself into?!

Harry is going on a date! An actual date! With Cho Chang! An actual date with Cho Chang!

He’d be elated if he weren’t panicking. “This is all your fault!” He shouted as he rummaged through the dresser.

“My fault?” Wayne asked with amusement. “Zabini’s the one who told Chang you wanted to dance with her.”

“But you’re the one who mentioned going on a date in Hogsmeade today!”

“Technically I only said that I’m taking Mandy out on a date.”

“Yeah, but you said it right in front of Cho; and the way she looked at me, I just-” He went red.

“Realized what a great idea it would be to ask the bird you fancy on a date?” Oliver said with a snicker. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Harry groaned loudly, unable to argue with the logic and still flustered with panic over what to wear. “It’s not. It’s just- ugh! I have no idea what to do on a date! It’s not like either of us are going to Hogsmeade for the first time.”

“True,” Wayne said, “but odds are Chang knows some places you haven’t been to before.”

“Yeahhh,” Oliver gave an evil grin, “she’s older. Bet there’s lots she can show you.” He gave Harry a wink to emphasize the point.

Harry really didn’t like that wink. “Shut it, Oliver!”

Justin, having just walked out of the loo, looked at the ensuing argument with confusion. “Is there a problem with Chang being older than you?”

“Is it a problem that Poliakoff’s older than you?” Jacqueline asked as she added mascara to Melissa’s lashes.

A slow breath went through Melissa’s nostrils. “To be perfectly honest… that’s actually a point in his favour.”

“Mhmm,” Jacqueline gave a got-cha smile, “as long as he’s not as old as Myron Wagtail.”

“Frankly I’d be more disturbed if someone as old as Myron were interested in me, rather than me interested in them,” she corrected. “No level of school-girl crush is worth fraternising with paedophiles.”

Immediately the other girls had to back off before laughter risked ruining her makeup.

“MOTHER OF MAGIC, HAVE MERCY, MEL!” Amy shouted between snorts. “Never- in my life- have I thought of something like that!”

“Well, consider yourself forewarned, Ames. If any grown-ass adult shows interest in you, no matter if they claim you’re ‘mature for your age’ or whatever, a pedo’s still a pedo.”

Amy snorted again. “Yeah, but give it a couple of months until you’re seventeen, and then…” she winked, “you’ll be of age to start dating adults.”

Melissa looked at her flatly. “Any adult, in their mid-twenties or older, who actively seeks out a seventeen year old to date, is either so awful in bed that they want to date someone too young to know better that they suck at it, or is only dating a barely-legal teen because they know they legally can’t get anyone younger.”

Awkward and shocked silence followed that statement. …For a good three seconds. Then the laughter returned.

“I’ll keep that in mind!” Amy said with a laughing grin. “Thanks for the tip!”

“You’re surprisingly adamant about this subject, aren’t you?” Rusalka commented.

Obviously. It’s why this whole endeavour is so goddamn confusing!

“I just think teens should do what they can to stay safe.”

“-or I just think we should do something safe,” Harry said as he rolled his eyes, “A picnic in the Forbidden Forest is the opposite of a good date.”

“But if something comes out and you fight it, it’ll be daring and dashing!” Oliver insisted. “You’re a Triwizard Champion, you’ve gotta do something to impress her!”

“He’s already Harry Potter,” Justin pointed out.

“Plus I’m probably facing a dragon next weekend,” Harry added. “That’s risky enough to impress anyone.”

“That said, a picnic might still be a good idea,” Justin said, “but somewhere nice, like on a hill with a view of the village, or under a tree in case it rains.”

“Hmm… I suppose that’s a good point.”

Wayne looked thoughtful at the idea. “It’s a bit cold for a picnic though, isn’t it?”

“...Also a good point.”

The boys laughed as Harry’s nervousness returned. “Just relax, Harry. A first date is all about getting to know each other and having fun, so have fun with it!”

“If you say so.”

“And if it’s not a date, then you’re just two mates playing tour guide.”

“If you say so.”

Melissa looked herself over in the mirror. After insisting on muggle clothes (in a futile attempt to make a negative statement), her friends had paired light jeans with a jumper that was a gentle shade of brownish-orange. Her butterscotch hair was redone to gentle waves, and her face was done in neutral makeup. One could consider the whole look casual and understated, if not fitting for an autumn vibe; yet Melissa couldn’t help but look over herself in the mirror and think, I look ~adorable~!

Which, goddamnit, means that Lev will think so, too!

Amy looked at her expectantly. “So…?”

“You girls did a great job …and I hate you for it.”

She was answered with snickers and three eager witches pulling her out of the dorms and out towards the entrance hall.

The entrance hall was packed compared to other years. Teens were weaving around each other, trying to find that one familiar face in a sea of chaos. At one point Melissa managed to spot Harry nervously smiling at Cho Chang, yet it was short lived as Amy stepped into her line of sight. “Let’s wait outside. Brodny and Lev will be coming from the ship, anyways.”

“Oh. Fair point.” She looked out again as Amy stepped towards the doors, yet Harry and Cho had once again been swallowed by the crowd. She followed after Amy, secretly relieved for the fresh air. “Ru’s going to kill you for dating her cousin, you know.”

“Ha! If she was going to kill me, she’d have done it last night.” As if to prove her point, she stretched her arms in a thoroughly relaxed state. “Besides, what’s she have to worry about? That I’ll somehow hurt her buff beater of a cousin?”

“Ppft! Buff beater?”

“Hey, have you seen his arms? Ugh!” She groaned happily. “And feeling them all wrapped around you is, mmmph, so nice!”

Melissa wasn’t sure whether to laugh or blush, so she did both. “Gotta say, I have not paid attention to his arms, but you have fun with that.”

“Oh, I will!”

The girls laughed and continued to tease and chat as they waited. Luckily it wasn’t too long of a wait before a group of Durmstrang students arrived. Melissa managed to catch Lev’s eyes, noting the way they lit up upon seeing her. A thrill warred against trepidation, and won by a slim margin as he approached. Her eyes subconsciously roved over him. His hair was brushed back for once, trailing past his shoulders; and he was wearing a nice yet casual set of blue robes that she found brought out his eyes.

Dude, are you checking him out or checking if he’s dressed for a date?!

She immediately shook from both thoughts in time for his approach, “Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Lev had a big smile on his face and moved to say something else.

Instead she spoke quickly with a panic, “The carriages are over this way! Ready to go?”

He didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. In fact, he simply said, “Of course,” and then linked elbows with her, “lead the vay!”

Fuuuuuuck! She was red in the face and far too conscious of the physical contact as they walked over to the carriages.

Lev then broke the quiet walk with a question. “Фестралы?”

“What?”

She turned to him, finding Lev seemed suddenly subdued. “Ze- ah, vot pulls ze carriages.” It wasn’t a question. He was remarking on the creatures pulling the carriages. What he said had sounded like ‘festraly’, which was obvious enough to understand.

“Yeah. The thestrals,” Melissa nodded. “They can be pretty friendly, actually. There’s nothing to worry about.”

He met her eyes with shock. “You see zem?”

“Oh,” right, that’s a thing with thestrals. “Yeah, I can. You?”

“Yes.” His nod was a mild sadness that was more like an acceptance than anything else. “My praded, my grandfazer’s fazer. It vas long ago. He had a good life.”

That was certainly understandable, …and Melissa found herself oddly envious of such a gentle explanation. “That’s good. Not many do.”

She dropped the subject, opting instead to ask Lev of what sorts of things he’d like to see in the village and offered some ideas as well. The ride over ended up being a pleasant one, with the casual and mundane conversation lulling her back into the ease of their friendship. Once the carriage stopped at Hogsmeade station, Lev hopped out and offered his hand to her. Something about the gesture, of putting her hand in his and being guided out, reignited her nervousness.

She pulled away from his hand almost the second she stood on the ground. “So, here we have Hogsmeade station, where all of us arrive to and from school. We all take a train from London called the Hogwarts Express-”

She babbled fast and nervously, trying to cram in lots of information as they walked through the station, and continued almost non-stop as they got into the village proper. After a long babble about the Shrieking Shack and the Three Broomsticks, she finally paused to take a long breath. 

In that breath, Lev spoke up, “Are you okay?”

“Ah,” she momentarily forgot to breathe. Taking another breath, she answered, “Yes?”

“Are you sure? You are being… not you.”

Unlike the previous minutes, Melissa was at a loss for words. Her mouth opened and closed. Thoughts warred with speech, and arms tried to move with words that didn’t didn’t come.

The whole mime offered little to Lev but confusion and mild amusement. “If there is problem, we can go somevair else.”

“No- it’s not that. It’s just-” she looked skyward, and her hands fidgeted together nervously, “Ah, fuck it, I should just ask.” She looked back at him, “Are we on a date?!”

“A date?” It was another look of unknown translation on his face. Then recognition hit, “Oh, yes-” then his expression shifted to another confusion, then to amusement. “Vait, do you… do you vant us to be on a date?”

Her answer came in a panic, “Idontknow!”

WHAT?! What do you mean ‘you don’t know?’

I DON’T KNOW!!

UGH!

AHHHHH!

MOTHERFUCKING TEENAGE HORMONES!

Her internal war aside, Lev seemed to find her answer and sudden blushing very entertaining. “Have you gone on a date before?”

Her head shook in lieu of speech. Her internal thoughts still freaking out over her answer.

“Ah,” Lev stepped closer. Melissa squeaked and took a half step back. He paused, then raised his hands up. “How about zis. We see village, have fun, vot happens- happens or not. Zat good?”

“Uh… Right! See what happens,” she grabbed onto the idea like a life preserver, “That’s fine!”

“Good,” he gave her an encouraging gesture. “We can talk about village again. Just remember breezing ven you talk.”

Nervous laughter bubbling out of her. “Right. Breathing. Of course.” Ahhh, why am I being so ridiculous?!

“You did not know?”

“Of course I didn’t know! Like I said, volshebnaya pesnya isn’t taught at Hogwarts.” She looked forlornly at the small collection of magical instruments at Dominic Maestro’s Music Shop. “Ah, if only I knew while I still had money!”

“You vood have spent all of it here?” He said teasingly.

“I would have spent all of it here,” she agreed with a pained sigh. She waved her hand dejectedly at the veela-hair harp, “Well, maybe not on a harp that puts you in a lovey-dovey state. What about this, though? I do know how to play the harpsichord.”

“Hmm,” Lev looked around the emerald harpsichord thoughtfully. There was a sign forbidding people from fiddling with the magical instruments (she did so enjoy the music pun), but that didn’t prevent Lev from giving it an outward examination. He gestured to the body and strings of the instrument, “Using, ah- izumrudy i mednyye provoda togezzer is for… making body better. Healing!” He shouted that last word, glad to have remembered the word in English. “Music from zis vill heal ze body ven not vell.”

“Wicked!” Melissa said with an airy breath. Then her eyes went wide, “Hold on, what it heals depends on the song, right?”

“Of course. You must know vot to focus on for best feeling better.” He must have seen something in her eyes as he then asked, “Vot are you zinking about?”

“It’s just… There is genuine research out there looking into the power of music and healing. It’s- uh- muggle research, sorry, shoulda clarified. Anyways- there is a bunch of research looking into how music literally heals you, like the Kenny Rogers Effect helping stroke victims, or all that stuff about listening to Mozart. I mean, it doesn’t actually make you smarter, that’s mostly a myth, but some of his songs do help fight against seizures. I remember hearing something,” before I died, “that it has something to do with changing up the structure of the song. Now imagine playing those songs, or a song with that change-up style, on a magical harpsichord that’s made for healing magic! Like, that would be revolutionary! I can’t even- Can you imagine?!”

The wizard teen didn’t answer for a moment, holding back a laugh behind a polite smile. Slowly, he answered, “I did not understand much of zat, but… to mix magic vit not-magic music study, it could be interesting. You can use it for your project.”

Her eyes went round. “True!” Ideas flitted through her mind. “I’d have to reach out to muggle scientists to get their research,” except, fuck, a lot of this doesn’t exist yet, does it? “It’ll be a pain to decipher, but if I can incorporate that, find what music helps with healing and shielding the brain- maybe the soul, even- and mix that with the right materials, man, that is ambitious!”

“It is, but you can do it,” Lev said encouragingly, “You are a musical genius.”

“Aww,” she bumped into his side playfully, “and you’re the sweetest!”

Lev leaned into it, “Yes, I am vonderful!”

Melissa laughed, “Of course, of course. And since you’re so wonderful, you can tell me about all of these other instruments…?”

The pair eventually made it to the Three Broomsticks for lunch. It was a little later than rush hour, so they were able to find a table near the window. Soon into settling in, Rosmerta approached their table. “Well hello there Melissa,” she eyed Lev with a gleam, “and Melissa’s friend.”

Melissa’s eyes dropped to the table. Ugh, and here I thought I was done with blushing today.

“What can I get you two darlin’s today?”

“A warm butterbeer and fish n’ chips for me,” Melissa answered quickly.

Lev’s answer took a little longer. Melissa had to help him with the menu, but eventually opted for a steak and kidney pie. Rosmerta flashed Melissa a wink as she left, causing the girl to go red.

“Did I miss somezing?”

“Adults are just ridiculous,” Melissa muttered, fighting against her blush.

“And ve young people are not?” he teased.

“Oh, we’re ridiculous, too; but at least we have our age as an excuse for not being mature.” The thought expanded in her mind, causing her to puff out her nose and mutter, “Just a teenaged brain working in a teenaged body.”

“Hmm?”

Melissa shook her head nonchalantly. “It’s just something I told a professor, once. Sometimes I forget that our brains act weird because of how old we are.”

“It does? How? Oh- zis is zat biology you said before, right?”

“Right. But it’s-” she is not going to talk about puberty, for fuck’s sake! “Since we’re getting older, different parts of our brain are… working more, or for the first time. So things we may not have thought about while we’re kids have started to turn on because we’re becoming adults.”

Lev gave a slow blink. “Zat’s just becoming older. Not anysing new about people.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-” Melissa floundered in thought.

“I zink you are worrying too much, again,” Lev said pointedly. Something brightened in his expression. “Ah! Are you having new sots, like an adult vitch?”

“Wha- nuh- no!”

“No?” He grinned mischievously. “Yet you get red so very easy!”

She gave a swift kick under the table. “Oy, shut it!”

He kicked back in response, “Make me!”

The response prompted an all-out leg war between the two of them. It probably looked aggressive to the casual onlooker, yet snickers and laughter kept bubbling out of them over the sheer absurdity of it all.

“OW!” She yelped after getting a particularly sharp hit to the ankle. She retaliated in kind, “Jerk! You’re not supposed to hit your date!”

“Ha! You hit me first!” He, in opposition, didn’t retaliate. “I sot you English women say you vant treated ze same as a man?”

She held up a pointed finger to refute him, only for the words to catch up to her. “...Fuck, I can’t even argue that.”

At that moment, Rosmerta came over and dropped off their drinks. Melissa used the arrival as a chance to end the conversation through a long sip of her drink. Lev, on the other hand, took a shorter drinker and was the first to speak again.

“So… from vot you said, ve are on a date?”

It took a lot of willpower to not choke on her drink. She let her thoughts focus before giving a hard swallow and a breath. “I suppose we are.”

“And are you having fun?”

A desire to grimace was defeated by a smile. Technically speaking, “I am,” …yet was it because she’s on a date, or because Lev is her friend?

The reasoning didn’t seem to matter. Her simple answer was enough to make Lev happy and propose a toast to a fun first date. She clinked her glass with his, finding that- regardless of which reason is the most true, she was happy to go along with enjoying their day together.

The two glasses clinked to a ‘fun first date’; and Rusalka turned from her vantage point to raise her own glass towards Jacqueline, Lucy, Astrid, and a few other Durmstrang witches. “And that, ladies, is how it’s done!”

Chapter Text

Sunday November 20th, 1994

The next morning, while the others were still asleep, Jacqueline beckoned Melissa to follow her into the loo.

“I- um- I talked to Lucy yesterday.”

Oh?! Hot damn! “How did that go?”

She bit her lip, looking embarrassed. “Apparently, she once asked me the same sort of questions I asked her yesterday, and I had completely disregarded them.”

“You did? When? Wait- she asked you? But that means-”

“Exactly!” She said in a hushed tone. Jacqueline rubbed her temple. “Which means I rejected her months ago and have made an absolute fool of myself!”

“Okay, but, the feeling’s mutual, right?”

“Yes, but, like you said, it’s illegal.”

“True…” she paused for a breath. “So where does that leave you two?”

“I- we- have decided to take things slow. We already spend so much time together, few would be suspicious of us, especially as no one has yet had a problem with how much time we spend together.” She blushed suddenly. “Though perhaps we should stop giving each other flowers.”

“What?! But it’s so cute!” Melissa argued. “Besides, wouldn’t stopping count as suspicious?”

Jacqueline looked unimpressed, “Wouldn’t continuing count as suspicious?”

“...Stick with spices and fruits over flowers?” Melissa suggested with a shrug. “You’re technically just giving her baking supplies, right?”

Jacqueline let out a long breath. “...I suppose.” A short pause fell between them. “I know this isn’t- if anyone ever found out- or, Circe forbid, if my family found out-” She let out a huff. “What I’m trying to say is- thank you- for telling me, for why I’ve been so… confused. I don’t know what will happen, but… I’m glad you’re my friend.”

Melissa gave her a gentle smile, “Of course, and you’re welcome.” She embraced Jacqueline with gentle reassurance, “It’s what friends do. We help each other, and protect each other. I’ve got your back.”

“Protect each other,” Jacqueline murmured, “Yes. That’s exactly what we do.”

Harry arrived at Professor Sprout’s office promptly at 9 o’clock. “Good morning, Professor.”

“Good morning, dear,” she smiled sweetly at him. “Did you have a nice breakfast?”

Harry gave a nod. He’d eaten light, knowing today would be harrowing, not to mention risky on a full stomach. “Thank you for signing me off for today.”

“It’s no trouble, dear. In fact, the Headmaster was happy to hear you’re taking your preparation seriously.” She suddenly scowled. “Not that you should have needed it in the first place, of course. It’s dreadful that they’re forcing you to compete.”

“I know,” Harry gave a playful shrug, “but at least our House gets all of the glory with having two champions.”

Professor Sprout laughed, “Now, Harry, we can’t be playing favourites too strongly.” The wink she gave him suggested that she only said that in faux humility. “Alright, dear, be off with you. And remember; the password back to my floo is ‘Mel Meles’.”

Harry stared at his Head of House, blinking slowly. “That password has something to do with honey or bees, doesn’t it?”

Her playful smile remained. “Two points for your knowledge of Latin, Mister Potter.” then she leaned in for a stage whisper. “Though meles is also Latin for badger.”

Realization dawned on Harry, and he gave a cheeky smile back. “That’s a great password.”

“Perfect for this year,” she agreed. “Now, off you go, dear!”

“Harry!” Sirius enveloped Harry in a hug as soon as he stepped through the floo. “Thank goodness you’re here! We should take the year off, keep travelling instead of sticking with this mess.”

“Too late for that,” Harry lamented. “Bagman and Wilkins say my magic’s on the line if I don’t compete.”

“Bah! Useless, the lot of them!” Sirius turned away from the Grimmauld floo and shouted towards the hallway. “Chiara! Harry’s here!”

“I’m coming down!”

Harry and Sirius caught up with each other briefly. Once Chiara arrived, however, Harry’s attention switched to the large bump on her abdomen. “Oh, wow! Chiara you look…”

“Enormous,” Chiara said with a groan, “I know.”

He wouldn’t say she was ‘huge’, not in the slightest. That said, the baby bump she was sporting was surprisingly prominent. “I thought that you’re only four months pregnant. When we met your sister, she was about that far ahead, too, right?”

“Yes, but she wasn’t pregnant with twins.”

His eyes went wide. “TWINS?!”

“Surprise!” Sirius chuckled nervously. “Trust me, we were surprised too.”

“But, how?! Is that normal?”

“In my family, no,” Chiara said.

“Same with mine,” Said Sirius. “Aside from a few magical families, twins are pretty rare. Well, outside of fertility potions.”

“Which we didn’t use, obviously,” Chiara said. She looked about the room. “At least this home is good for a family. …Aside from the elf.”

“Is Kreacher being a problem?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said gruffly, “He keeps trying to get out of doing anything for Chiara, and I’ve heard him muttering about the babies in a way that… let’s just say it would make my mother proud.”

Harry winced. “Ugh.”

“Exactly.”

“Just have him live with your cousin,” Chiara said in a tone that suggested she’s said this before, “he loves Narcissa.”

“I asked, but with how he’s treating you, she’s worried Kreacher will do something to Phoenix.”

Harry considered the small argument. “Why not ask Grandfather Arcturus to take him in?”

“Heh! Please. If he hears about that, he’ll probably think having Kreacher here is a great idea.”

“You never know unless you ask. He cares about family,” he reminded Sirius, “I’m sure he’ll want the babies to feel safe. He could even have one of his elves come live with us, instead. Koby’s a good elf.”

Sirius’ face looked like he bit into something sour.

“He has a point, Siri,” Chiara said. “We won’t know unless you ask. As for me, I’ll take any chance to get rid of the monster.”

Silence reigned a few more seconds, then Sirius let out a petulant huff. “Fine! I’ll ask. Happy?”

“That’s all I ask.” She stepped forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Chiara then looked over to Harry, “You two are going to practice for your contest, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, we should get started on that.”

After an early breakfast, Melissa arrived at the potions lab where Professor Snape had her scheduled to continue her work on her ISP. She came prepared for the meeting. First, she presented to him her symptoms report. It didn’t have a lot of entries, with circumstances only happening for the last three weeks, but she tried to be as detailed as possible with the time, effects, duration, and even the distance with as much accuracy as she could manage.

Next, she brought up the subject of muggle music healing (along with an admission of most of it being future research) and the use of magically charged metal and gemstones. “Lev, one of the boys from Durmstrang, his mum and grandparents work in the instrument-crafting business; and the Weasley twins know a fair bit of metallomagy, so I’ve gotten some resources from them to get started on that avenue.”

“So long as you’re not depending on fellow students as sole granters of knowledge. Small mercies there.” He took her sheet of notes and pulled out his own sheet of parchment. “I’ve conducted research of my own into potential plantlife to be used in your experiments. I suggest you go over them carefully.”

Melissa took the parchment, eyes sweeping over a chart of plants and their components. Many were scratched out in red, while a select few had descriptions of their ‘reactions’. The notion eluded her. “What are these reactions based on?”

“Death magic,” he said simply. “That is what you are hoping to shield against, after all.”

Weird, but okay. She muttered a less offensive sentiment, then opted to look over the list. The list was alphabetical, and it took getting to the D’s before anything of note was written. Dirigible Plums, Dittany and Ginger all had the same note, reading ‘mild tolerance, mix with silver or other substance?’ 

Lady’s Mantle had an interesting set of notes. ‘Recommended by NF. Leaf and stem produce mild reactions. Promising results from dew harvest. Test harvest potency with various moon phases - Full and Waning most likely.’

NF… Nicholas Flamel?! Is he still alive? Or is that from Dumbledore’s notes? Either way this is a good avenue to go off of.

Moly - ‘Moderate tolerance...’ Makes sense, seeing as it’s used for healing potions. I bet Wiggenweld bark will be on this list too. …Pennyroyal and Rue are on this list, but not Sage? Aren’t all three of them useful in anti-curse and healing potions? Ah, well, you can’t win them all. Oh, look at that, Wiggenweld bark! ‘Strong tolerance to DH…’ I’m sorry, is DH what I think it is?!

“It is worth mentioning,” Snape said suddenly, his eyes on the notes she gave him, “that despite their reputations sunstone and moonstone will be of no use to you.”

“Good to know.” She paused, her previous thoughts returning. “I take it you had Harry try out his wand on those ones already?”

“I did.”

Geez, how is this man both sneaky and willing to admit hidden information that quickly? Then another thought occurred to her. So… Harry knows about the project? That's kind of sweet of him. Annoying, but I suppose if I’d run into him at all this month he would’ve told me. “And you two did these tests when?”

Snape had the audacity to glance at her symptom report before answering. “Last Saturday from ten until noon.”

Her expression flattened. “You know, a little warning would have been appreciated.”

Snape gave an oily smile. “And risk a placebo reaction? I think not.”

Dick! “So you’re fine with having me suffer for hours every weekend without any warning?!”

“Are you suffering at this moment, Miss Bennett?”

“Obviously not; but when he’s using them-”

“Then there’s nothing to concern yourself over,” Snape said in a dismissive tone. He then, oddly, checked his watch and made a note on another sheet of parchment.

Harry dodged another of Sirius’ spells. In a flash, he fired an offensive spell back at his godfather, feeling the thrill of the Elder Wand course through him.

“You can’t keep hiding forever, Pup!” Sirius shouted.

He’s trying to make me talk. Don’t fall for it. He’d already made that mistake before. The Invisibility Cloak can hide him from Death itself. It doesn’t, however, prevent others from following his voice.

Two spells went in succession from Sirius’ wand. The first Harry dodged easily. The second didn’t need dodging in the right sense, as the ground beneath him was suddenly covered in a sheet of ice.

“AHH!” Harry crashed to the ground, the puff of ice particles exposing his location at once.

“Got you now! Rictusempra!”

The spell collided with Harry’s hidden form. At least, he thought it had… yet Harry wasn’t laughing. He didn’t think hard on Sirius’ missed aim. Instead he cast Fumos to obscure his location and make his escape. They fought for three more minutes, until Harry managed to catch Sirius with a body-bind that won the round. When released, they both agreed to a short break. 

As they did, Sirius stared hard at Harry. “So, are we going to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“The fact that I hit you with at least four spells, and you didn’t react to any of them.”

“What? No you didn’t.”

“He did,” Chiara added with a nod. “There were very clear splashes of hitting something in the air. I just thought Sirius was going easy on you so that you weren’t hurt.”

“I mean, that’s true,” Sirius said, “but just because they aren’t strong spells doesn’t mean they do nothing. Yet you didn’t react at all. Not to a tickling charm, or a stunning spell, nothing.”

“What?” Harry said with shock. “How is that possible?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. So it’s not some fancy shield spell or charm protecting you?”

“No?” Harry paused a bit. “Are you absolutely sure you hit me?”

“Well, I can test that,” Sirius flashed a cheeky smile. “Impedimenta!”

The spell hit Harry square in the chest, and he could barely retaliate as the spell took hold, impending his movement. Seconds later the spell wore off, and he huffed angrily. “You could have warned me!”

“I thought I did,” Sirius chuckled, “that said, it’s nice to know that it actually worked this time. I know I got you with that one when you were talking.”

That… that does check out, actually. He was half-convinced he’d be hit by that spell during the fight, yet when he felt no effect, he just assumed Sirius missed. “But then how?”

“Maybe your invisibility cloak helped?” Chiara suggested.

“Nah, can’t be that,” Sirius waved dismissively. “I’ve gotten James while he was in the cloak loads of times.”

But things have changed, Harry thought, haven’t they. “Let’s try it anyway.” He put the cloak back on, hood included, and spoke clearly. “Hit me with a tickling charm.”

“If you say so,” Sirius said slowly. “Rictusempra!” The spell hit, but nothing happened. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“...We’re all seeing this, right?”

“Yes,” Chiara nodded slowly. “Did you do something to make your cloak stronger?”

Harry removed his hood, his expression pensive. “I think I have. I just didn’t realize until now…” He then exposed the Elder Wand for what it is, and Sirius listened rapt as Harry explained what happened between him and Dumbledore, and even what happened earlier on Halloween with Lucius Malfoy. By the end of it, Sirius remained wide-eyed, and had fingers to his temple.

“You have all three.”

“Yeah.”

“And you know what this means. What… what you’re capable of with all of this.”

“Not everything, clearly, considering the Invisibility Cloak. I’ll have to test them more to figure things out.”

Sirius shuddered. Chiara looked concerned as well, though not remotely disturbed, having not grown up with the stories or magic in general. “Well, on the bright side, you now have a shield against spells. Maybe it can work against your fire task, too?”

Both wizards looked at her in shock. “That… is a very excellent point.”

“If he’s facing dragons, though, the fire will be pretty brutal. Do you think it can stand up to it?”

“No ideas, but it wouldn’t hurt to test it against fire spells. Let’s see how much I can handle it.”

“An interesting theory, Miss Bennett,” Snape mused. “Though seeing as gold is what electronics use for circuitry, as you say, that may be a better option than silver.”

“True, but with the purifying qualities of silver, I’d feel more comfortable testing both of them, as well as reactions to stones in powder form, like you said.”

“Yes. Though what did you mean earlier about difficulties with some stones in powdered form?”

“Some of these- emerald, ruby, tourmaline, the quartzes, and unakite- are higher on the hardiness scale than moonstone. I’m not entirely sure if manually crushing them into a powder is even possible. I might have a similar problem with tigers eye and tiger iron. Unfortunately all of their benefits look really promising, so I have to try.”

“...Tiger iron?”

“It seems to be a hybrid of a few other stones on my list,” she explained. “Though, funny fact, it also goes by mugglestone.”

Snape let out a scoff. “You’d best hope it doesn’t have any negating effects on magic.”

“Mmm, no, it has magical properties and has been used for protective amulets.”

Snape nodded and continued down the list, comparing one section with the rest. “Most of these should be fine to make in powdered form, judging by the rating given to moonstone. That said, you need to also gather enough of these stones in raw and polished forms to conduct thorough tests.”

“That won’t be a problem. I have connections to someone that will help.”

Snape gave her a questioning look. “You do, do you?”

“Wystan’s family. I’m sure I can get some from him.” Well, from Jacinth’s squib uncle, Mal. Not that Snape needs to know that. She can probably ask Jacinth anyways, to cover her tracks. If he says no, she’ll just say relatives got some for her from the muggle world. It wouldn’t be a lie, afterall. Though, of course, he’ll likely ask for something big to trade for the major gemstones. It’s a pain, but that’s the cost of business and staying alive, she supposed.

“Well, Pup,” Sirius grinned, “I don’t know about dragon fire, but it looks to me like you’ll manage fine against most people going up against you.”

“I really hope so,” Harry nodded, stroking the cloak subconsciously as he put it back in his bag.

The three retired to the dining room, where Kreacher had lunch waiting for them. Tea was also poured and prepped for Harry and Sirius. The same could not be said for Chiara. He exchanged a look with her, communicating that this was just the tip of the iceberg with the bigoted elf. Harry opted to step in, in Kreacher’s stead, getting a drink ready for her.

Sirius, in contrast, ignored the erumpent in the room and moved on to other things. “How was your Hogsmeade visit? Did you do anything interesting?”

Harry froze mid-pour, a blush creeping on his face. He collected himself before the teacup could spill over, and put the pot down as he answered, “I, um, I went on a date.”

“WHAT?!” Sirius launched forward with glee. “A date? Why didn’t you tell me?! Way to go, Pup! Tell us all about it! Who’s the lucky bird? A fellow Puff?”

Chiara burst out laughing, “Let him answer one question before you ask more, Siri.”

Even Harry chuckled a bit, easing off some of his blush. “You were closer about her being a bird. She’s in Ravenclaw. Her name’s Cho.”

“Ah, a smart girl,” Sirius nodded sagely.

“What’s she like?” Chiara asked.

“She’s a seeker, like me. She’s a fan of the Tutshill Tornados and wants to try out for the team,” Harry explained, having only learned that information yesterday. “Um, she’s sweet and really pretty, and nice.” Harry paused for a moment, not sure how to continue.

“She sounds lovely,” Chiara said with an encouraging nod.

“Think you’ll go on another date?” Sirius asked.

“I-” He gave a shy nod, “I hope so.”

“Good.” Sirius gave a mischievous smile, “Maybe we should invite this Cho girl over for the holidays? Meet her parents, too.”

“WHAT?!” 

The adults laughed, while Harry felt confused and mortified.

“I’m just teasing you, Pup.”

“Though if you want us to invite her over, just let us know,” Chiara added.

Harry squirmed in his seat, muttering a shy, “I guess.” The adults continued laughing as Harry fought the nervous flush. Another thought finally crossed his mind, one he was sure would stop their laughter. “Speaking of Christmas… I was wondering if we, uh, if we could invite Dudley over for the holidays.” 

Sirius stopped laughing at once. “Dudley? Your muggle cousin?”

Harry nodded.

“Harry,” Sirius paused, as though still absorbing the words, “are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure at all. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask. He mentioned in his last letter that he’s bringing his mum to London for an appointment, and I just thought- maybe- I don’t know-”

“Pup, your aunt abused you. She hates magic- and you-”

“But it’s different now!” Harry argued. “Muggles who leave Azkaban get their memories wiped of magic! She doesn’t remember any of it.”

“It won’t stop her memories of you, though,” Sirius said pointedly. “She’ll still remember that she hates you, and that she hated Lily.”

Harry frowned. “Maybe, but it’s not like she can do or say anything to hurt me anymore.”

Sirius gave a loud sigh, “Pup-”

Chiara raised a hand up. “If I can say something.” The wizards paused, both unsure of what Chiara could add to all of their family drama. Her eyes were focused on Harry. “Harry, if your aunt doesn’t remember magic, but hated it before, how will she react if she comes to this house, with its enchantments, house elves, and moving pictures?”

Harry’s eyes went wide, finding himself at a loss for words.

“I will tell you how she will react. She will be scared. Terrified. Sirius told me she has been living in a madhouse until recently. If she were to see these things, what would it do to her mind? Make it worse. Make her crazy again; and would your cousin forgive you for making his mother like this again?”

His shoulders sagged with defeat. “...No.”

“No, he will not.” She reached out across the table for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “See him for their appointment. Take them around the city, if your aunt is being pleasant; but, for everyone’s sake, keep them away from all of the magical things. It will be much better that way.”

“Oh,” Harry blinked, “that’s a good idea.”

“Of course,” Chiara gave him a cheeky smile, “and I will come, too. Less likely to be an issue if I am the adult instead of Sirius.”

“What?” Sirius said. “Why not me?”

Chiara gave him a humoured smile. “Can you be polite to his family and not talk about magic?”

“Well-” he thought, “I suppose-”

“Not likely,” the words came out behind barely restrained laughter. “You’ll just be yourself, Siri.”

“Hey!” His eyes suddenly glinted, “Since you’re so sure about what I’ll do, I’ll show you what ‘being myself’ is like!”

Sirius launched towards Chiara, but she bolted in an instant, laughing and shouting back at Sirius as he chased her out of the room.

…Leaving a slightly dumbfounded Harry shaking his head at the ridiculous adults in his life.

Snape looked over the notes with a single satisfactory nod. “You appear to have a grasp of the next steps needed for your research. I suggest you get to work quickly, lest you find yourself in the infirmary before Christmas.”

“Duly noted, professor,” she said politely. On the inside, she scoffed, Right, as if I can make an Anti-Hallow amulet by Christmas!

With their meeting now over, she left the office and headed up to the owlery. She needs those stones, and soon. That said, writing to Mal isn’t an easy feat. Technically she has to write to her aunt in a cryptic enough script for her to pass on a request and bargaining price. From there it’s a lot of negotiating between the adults, leaving her in the dark until it's time for payment.

“Morning, Hootini! Morning, everyone!” She greeted the owls as she walked into the room. Many gave her annoyed hoots, having been interrupted from their sleep. Hootini, at least, gave a mild hoo as she gave him a loving head-stroke. “You can rest for a bit, I just got to write the letter first,” she promised. She took out a muggle notebook, thinking of how to best craft this latest cryptic message; but then a thought occurred to her. …She doesn’t actually need to be super cryptic this time, does she? 

Dear Aunt Sophie,

Things have been pretty wild at school. The other day I threw a big birthday party for my friend, Lev, and yesterday we went on a date!

Her hand stilled. Why did I write that?! Fuck!

Then again… that is a painfully normal thing for a teenager to write about, isn’t it? That said, there’s no way she can tell her aunt but not her own mother, right? Maybe? Ugh… Fine… I’ll write a letter to mum after this. Though they’ll want details, won’t they? Ugh! This feels so weird!

After a breath, she started writing again.

We had a nice time. I showed him around the village and got to know more about him and his home life. We didn’t kiss or anything serious like that. I’m not sure if I’d rather we just be friends but you never know, right?

School itself is getting interesting. One of my professors said I can get started early on an Independent Study Project (usually you don’t get to do one until your final year!) It’s super exciting! I’ve decided to do an engineering project to see if I can invent an instrument out of only minerals (because who needs more reason to waste plastic or cut down trees, am I right?)

Since I can only use stones and crystals for my experiment, I was wondering if you can grab some stuff for me at that New Age shop near your place? I’ve got a list of ones I want to try out on the next page. Don’t worry about the price or if you can’t find them all, just let me know what I owe you and I’ll totally pay you back when I come home for Christmas.

Lots of love!

Melissa

Satisfied with the letter, she quickly penned a similar note to her parents, this time including a bit of the magical portion of the ISP and asking them to look into research on music therapy. She wasn’t fully sure how successful they would fare with such a request; but at least if anyone’s spying on her mail she has her bases covered. Is it paranoid? Maybe, but she IS a former convict involved in a Gringotts gold-printing scheme, so one can’t be too careful.

With the letters now sent, she made her way down to the library. There was still time before lunch, she decided, which meant plenty of time to do research on the life-protective and healing properties of magical gemology.

Chapter Text

After lunch on the 24th of November, the children of Hogwarts made their way to the First Task of the Triwizard tournament. They chatted excitedly about the on-coming excitement.

…At least, most of them did.

“It doesn’t make sense!”

“How many times are you going to repeat that, Cyril?”

“Until someone can explain the logic to me!”

“Ugh,” Sierra rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Cyril, only you would be against missing classes.”

“How can I not be?!” he cried. “It’s our education and future at stake! They could have had this tournament on a weekend, or even Friday afternoon when it’s just Transfiguration and small electives; but no, they went for bloody Thursday, right when nearly all of us have class!

Melissa gave a shallow smile at the rant. Calling over from her own circle, she shouted, “YOU SAY THAT LIKE WIZARDS CARE ABOUT LOGIC IN THE FIRST PLACE.”

Several wizards looked at her flatly. Cyril was included, though he already looked annoyed as-is. “ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT THEY DON’T?!”

An answer came too easily. “WE’RE LITERALLY WALKING INTO A FORBIDDEN FOREST TO WATCH FOUR TEENAGERS RISK DYING, ALL FOR ENTERTAINMENT AND TO STROKE SOME POLITICIANS’ EGOS. I’D SAY THAT COUNTS AS ILLOGICAL.”

Several people blinked dumbly at that response. Some turned back to the direction they’re walking towards, realizing the insanity of their destination. Others, well, had a mixed bag of reactions. Cyril, at least, had the decency to swear under his breath. With a groan, he exclaimed, “We’re doomed as a species!” which was honestly hilarious to Melissa, because what wizard talks like that? Ha!

“Personally, I think they did it on purpose,” Corin said loudly, strolling between both groups to join in on the conversation. “Ced doesn’t have potions with us. So he’s had all morning to prepare for the task, right?”

“Heh! You’re giving the Ministry too much credit,” said Melissa. “They already had the day picked out, didn’t they?”

Sierra gave a laugh, “Maybe they picked a day based on the Champion not being a swot!”

The non-swots in hearing range laughed at that one.

“Or they chose a date based on the Seventh Year’s schedules?” Vance mused. “They were the ones expected to be chosen, after all.”

“Ooo!” Corin clicked his fingers and threw her a pair of finger guns, “That’s a good one, Bea!”

“We’d have to ask them about their schedules to be sure,” Cyril said. “Though if that’s the case, it’ll be a relief to know there’s some level of logic in having the task today.”

“Heh, don’t hold your breath,” Melissa muttered under her own, letting the conversation slide away as they walked into the dark forest.

“Alright, ghouls and gals, last chance to place your bets!” The Weasley Twins cried as people walked past the Champions tent to enter the stands. “Who’s winning this task?! What daring moves will our Champions make?! Take a chance, and make a fortune!”

Melissa slowed to a stop as the Twins took turns with their pronouncements. Others of her group noticed the change, and Adrian scoffed at her. “Come on, Mel, there’s no way they’ll let you make a bet.”

“Possible,” her voice moved to a mutter, “Something about them though…” She walked over to the Twins, some strange thought tugged at her mind. It was half-formed, nearly out of reach, something about the Weasleys and Bets and the Tournament. It felt familiar…

“Ah, our soothsaying mistress approaches!” Fred called dramatically.

“Oh mistress of the future, what say you of the spectacle for today’s event?” George queried.

No words came in answer. She just stared at them, trying to figure out what she was missing.

The boys shifted uncomfortably. George then spoke, “Uh, Melissa? Are you alright?”

“I can’t remember…” What the hell is it about these two? “Did you…” Fuck! Something about Harry giving them the prize money, right? Why did he do that, again? “Are you guys low on money for something?”

They looked at her strangely. A beat passed, and then they started laughing. “Not at all!”

“If anything, we’re getting rich!” Fred added. “Been getting requests from ministries around the world for our inventions. Going to make a mint out of them once we’re able to get contracts out.”

“Oh.” Selling to ministries around the world?! Boy, did she feel like an idiot now. “Well, I guess that’s all good, then.” Then, just to not feel like she’s been standing around here for nothing, she fished out two sickles from her pocket. She dropped them into Fred’s hand one at a time with each statement, “Harry goes last. The youngest champion against the deadliest foe.”

“Hmm… cryptic words, Madam Soothsayer,” Fred murmured. He paused before continuing, “He’ll be alright, though, right?”

She didn’t have a true answer for that one. “The future’s always in flux, Sir Artificer, but I’m hoping for the best.” He gave her an understanding nod, and she departed to rejoin the others.

Adrian was incredulous, “They actually let you make a bet?!”

“It’s just a couple sickles. No need to make a fuss over it.”

Adrian frowned, yet considered her words. Two sickles is a pretty low bet, so she actually isn’t sure of the results, he figured. He, and the others around them, made no more comments to it as they went to find some seats.

“DRAGONS?!”

“BLOODY HELL!”

“WICKED!”

“WOO!”

“Ugh! Why did you have to be right?!” Sierra moaned, looking up at Melissa from one row below.

Melissa’s answer came in a deadpan. “Because wizards don’t care about the lives of children.”

Awkward fidgets came from that answer, and several looked away from her as a result. There was one notable exception, however, as Cyril said something to Corin in a questioning tone. Corin answered in kind; and then, with Corin’s encouragement, both boys shouted loudly, “PANEM ET CIRCENSES! PANEM ET CIRCENSES!”

Everyone else was understandably confused. “What are they shouting about?” Adrian asked.

“Something about bread and…” Melissa paused, her brain trying to decipher the Latin of the second word. It was utterly lost on her. It wasn’t until she considered the first word, Panem, that a clue hit her. …Weirdly, by remembering that it’s the fictitious setting of The Hunger Games. 

“Bread and circuses!” She slapped herself in the forehead, and laughed loudly. “You two are geniuses!” Both boys took in her praise, and were glad as she joined in with calls of, “PANEM ET CIRCENSES!”

The blow of a whistle overpowered the crowd. They all quieted to the sound, catching the sight of Ludo Bagman rushing towards the judges’ panel in the process. Moments later, Cedric emerged on the grounds, and the crowd went wild!

As did the dragon.

In barely a moment, a blast of fire rained down on Cedric. He had only that moment to dodge away, heading for cover behind a boulder.

The crowds were screaming! The judges were less reactionary, with only Bagman’s voice to give way as he winced with a, “Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow.” …As if Cedric didn’t just nearly die by dragon fire!

“Come on, Ced,” Melissa muttered under her breath. “Just like canon. You got this…”

Cedric wasn’t moving, though, and her yearmates started to panic.

“He doesn’t have a broom,” she heard Willamina say in a panic. “They didn’t give him a broom! CEDRIC! GO FOR PLAN C! PLAN C!”

There was no way Cedric could have heard her. That said, Williamina cried, “YES!” after Cedric raised his wand and called out, “Accio broom!”

It took a long moment before anything happened; but, sure enough, Cedric’s broom zipped through the trees and straight into the enclosure.

“YES! YES, YES, YES!!”

Bewildered, Adrian asked, “You seriously planned for this?!”

“Ha!” Willimina grinned, “Between Melissa’s vision and the judges saying ‘wands only’, absolutely!”

From several seats down, Garrick shot them a questioning look. Melissa could only smile back with a light-hearted shrug. It was no secret why he was looking at them like that. After all, their team pulled this exact same trick back in April!

That considered, Cedric wasn’t done with his plans. From the safety of the boulder, he transfigured several rocks into the shape of dragon eggs. Then, when ready, he created a smokescreen and sped off to the clutch of eggs near the dragon’s front legs. The dragon shuffled nervously at the unknown smoke, and in that movement Cedric missed his chance, zipping directly in front of the dragon and getting scratched in the process. In all of that commotion, however, a pair of eggs rolled out from the smokescreen and away from the mother. The dragon mother moved in a panic, leaning forward to pull the eggs back towards her. 

That’s when Cedric made his move! He sped around from behind and underneath the dragon, not appearing again until he popped out through a puff of smokescreen with the golden egg in hand, leaving behind the clutch of true eggs still in the same number as they always were. 

“Oh thank fuck!” Melissa collapsed with relief. No one told her off for swearing, as they all felt much the same with relief for their friend. 

“Spectacular flying!” Bagman cheered as Cedric flew out of the enclosure. “And now the marks from the judges!”

The seven judges lifted their wands one by one, with a ribbon of light displaying their scores out of ten.

Murphy - 8

Maxime - 7

Wilkins - 8

Dumbledore - 9

Bagman - 10

Karkaroff - 4

Thoreau - 9

Total: 55

The crowd booed at the sight of Karkaroff’s 4, though Melissa found herself only mildly annoyed by it. After all, with seven judges in total, his biassed scoring barely held any sway.

“One down, three to go!” Bagman shouted as the whistle blew again. “Miss Delacour, if you please!”

For the next thirty minutes they had to watch their new, foreign classmates avoid the jaws of death. Fleur’s take on it seemed almost easy. She found a way to entrance her green dragon, and snatch the egg as it slept with nary a scratch. Krum, on the other hand, went about his task with a violent approach. He hit his dragon with a conjunctivitis curse, causing untold destruction on the innocent eggs while he got away with the golden prize. He scored poorly for that result, giving him a total of 52, while Fleur in-contrast beat out the rest with 56 points. 

“Just Potter left now,” said Adrian. “You know what he’s planning?”

“I imagine it won’t be much different from Ced’s, to be honest,” Melissa answered. They watched as the next dragon was brought out. A massive black beast with unfurling rage and a wicked-spiked tail. A part of her feared deeply for Harry in that moment; but she prayed for the canon gods to be on their side and let him make it through this alive.

The whistle blew, and she watched with bated breath as Harry walked into the dragon enclosure. He didn’t look nervous at the sight of the massive dragon. On the contrary, he seemed rather confident.

But… I don’t sense the hallows on him. Weird. What’s he playing at?

He raised his wand high. “Accio gyroscope!”

Oh, it’s in a bundle. That explains it.

Out from the stands, of all places, an opaque ball about the size of a beach ball flew out to Harry’s waiting hands. He popped the ball open, muttering something to himself in the process. He pulled a multi-pouched belt out from the ball and fastened it around his waist. She could sense each hallow somewhere within the pouches, but many other mysteries were hidden among them.

Now prepared for the task (thank small mercies this dragon was more cautious than the grey one), Harry readied his wand again, casting intricate movements before tapping his own back with a call of, “Draconic wings!”

What?

The sound of tearing cloth ripped from the enclosure, as a pair of small, dragon-like wings emerged from Harry’s back! The crowd gasped in awe and fright. They watched as the wings unfurled, gleaming with forest green scales, then flattened wide as Harry bowed low towards the dragon.

“Greetings, lady dragon, wisest and most powerful of great beasts. I have come to protect you from a danger against your nest.”

Okay-

First of all: WHAT

Secondly: THE FUCK?!

The dragon gave a snort and a rumbling growl; and it took every speck of Harry’s willpower to stay in his bowed position. “What did she say?” He whispered to Azerwal. Please don’t tell me that that was laughter I just heard.

The invisible snake hissed at his shoulder. “She thinks you are funny and stupid to think a dragon needs protection.” 

Fuck! “I mean no disrespect, lady dragon. I mean that there is a cuckoo in your nest.”

With a snort the dragon breathed fire all around her clutch of eggs. With it came a series of growls that… he could almost swear he heard the words “no birds”.

“She says there are no birds or bird eggs in her nest.”

Yeah, I can tell that!

“Is he- is he talking to a dragon?!” Sierra asked. She practically pounced on Melissa with this realization. “Can you talk to a dragon?! What’s it saying?!”

“I- I have no fucking clue?!” Honestly, Melissa was just downright amazed that this is happening right now. “Someone grab the Twins. Ask them if either of them can understand what that dragon is saying!”

“Human expressions- fuck.” Harry took a deep breath. “I mean that… while you were asleep, the humans placed a false egg among your clutch. The humans are using your powerful flames to make this egg hatch. Check over your clutch if you don’t believe me. You can see that one is not like the others.”

The black dragon drew its neck back, keeping one eye on Harry while sniffing through the clutch. She eventually came upon the golden egg, giving it a slow inspection. Aghilas must not be there yet. Good thing I told him to wait for my signal.

The dragon acknowledged his claim, though more was said beyond that. “She admits that it’s different, but she says she can be its mother. A dragon is a dragon. If the hatchling is weak, it will die; if not, she will raise it to be strong.”

Damn it! “What can I offer you in exchange for the false egg?”

“They say they think they can hear a couple words,” Sierra reported, “but it’s mostly just gibberish. We can ask Justin-”

“Yeah, yeah, we can talk about this later!” Melissa waved her off frantically. “Harry’s trying to fuckin’ haggle with the dragon!”

“What can a human offer a dragon?” Azerwal repeated.

What, indeed. Harry considered the information he read on dragons, and of Salazar Slytherin’s interactions with them. There were some tricks he used to impress them. Maybe they could work as gifts? …Too bad he doesn’t have gold or gems to entice her.

“If I may…” Harry stood from his bow, wings adjusting as he walked closer to the dragon. The mother made no move against him, for which he was eternally grateful. Once he felt close enough, he transfigured some soil into a large disk of stone and further cast, “Sun stone.”

The stone shimmered to blackness, showing that the spell took hold. “This stone will take more of your heat than other stones. It will be useful in keeping your eggs and hatchlings warm. You can test it and see for yourself.”

With a scurry, Harry moved away from the disk as the dragon did just that. The audience gasped as the dragon breathed fire near where Harry had just been. The disk grew red from the heat. When the flames ended, a molten redness remained. With her long neck, the dragon reached forward and touched her face against the stone.

“She’s pleased,” Azerwal commented. A purring rumble came from the dragon, and he added, “She wants to know what else you can give her.”

She wants more?! Ugh, fine-! His wings fluttered in a patterned formation, sending out a signal to Aghilas. Time for Plan B: Keep her distracted!

The audience watched on in impressed murmurs.

“Pretty sure that’s one of the twin’s inventions,” Sierra noted as a sudden tornado emerged from the object Harry launched across the enclosure.

“Yeah, looks like it,” said Corin.

Moments later, the enclosure was met with an explosion of darkness. “Ohh, the shade grenade!” Melissa cried. “That’s a good one!”

“Wait,” Willamina called out, “what’s happening with the egg?!”

Others swivelled at her question to the dragon herself. Between her legs, the golden egg was… hovering? Moving? By itself? It was going slowly behind her front leg and away from her view.

“He’s moving it with wandless magic!”

“Nonverbal casting too!”

“While distracting the dragon!”

Everyone was chattering with excitement as the egg slunk away, moving through crevices in the enclosure until it was behind the boulder near the entrance, completely out of the dragon’s sight.

“These gifts are yours to keep.” Harry promised. “Think about my offer tonight, and tomorrow I will return and ask again.”

“And bring more gifts.”

Geez, dragons are greedy- “Yes, I will bring more gifts.” He bowed again to the dragon, then made his way towards the gyroscope he had left near the boulder. He bent low to pick it up, waiting as Aghilas flew over with the egg in tow. He snatched it quickly, stuffing it into the gyroscope along with the invisible snakes. Then, easy as a summer evening, he strolled out of the enclosure with the ball and prize in hand.

“Holy shit, he got away with it!”

“She wasn’t suspicious?!”

Melissa, who had been too busy laughing, caught enough breath to explain what just happened. “He stopped asking for the egg! He stopped asking, so she stopped checking on it! Told her he’d come back tomorrow to ask again, and she believed him! HA! That was genius!”

“Merlin!” Adrian shook his head. “That kid is something else!”

Back at the judges table, Bagman continued to look on in shock. “That was… unbelievable. Remarkable! Simply Spectacular!”

The dragon was shuffled out of the enclosure with her eggs, giving Harry the safety to return and receive his scores.

Murphy - 9

Maxime - 9

Wilkins - 10

Dumbledore - 10

Bagman - 10

Karkaroff - 6

Thoreau - 8

Total: 62

“That’s more than the others!” Sierra exclaimed.

“Holy fuck, he’s in the lead!” Melissa said with a grin.

“Ten whole points over Krum,” Amy noted. After a beat she added, “Karkaroff looks pissed.”

He did, indeed. The man was downright seething from the looks of it. “Yeah. I’m half-surprised he gave Harry a 6, though. You’d think with all his bullshit with Cedric and Delacour, he’d rank Harry low, too.”

“True, but with all of those rumours about Karkaroff being a, you know,” Amy grimaced mutely, “he probably doesn’t hold much against Potter for using parseltongue.”

Corin then spoke up, “Not that it would matter anyways. He could have given Potter a zero and he’d still be in first place, just tied with Fleur.”

They paused for a minute to consider the arithmetic. “Hot damn,” Melissa murmured, “he’s right.” A fourteen year old just outpaced three seventeen year old Champions by a full judge vote. That is… pretty goddamn insane.

“The Boy-Who-Lived…” Adrian said with awe, “Master of De-” Adrian paused, jostled slightly by Rusalka, “Defying the Odds. Imagine what he’ll pull off for the other tasks?”

“Whatever he does,” Melissa said with a nod, “one thing’s for sure, it’ll be a spectacular show!”

Chapter Text

Thursday November 24th, 1994, continued

“Come on, Ru,” Jacinth whined, “there’s no way Durmstrang is going to have a party after coming in last."

“You don’t know that,” Rusalka huffed, “Brodny says they’re planning a party.”

“I hate to say it, but he has a point,” said Amy. “Brodny talked about a party before the First Task.”

“See,” said Jacinth, “even Flinton agrees with me. Let’s just head back to the common room. We can celebrate there.”

“Or join the Puffs in their room,” Adrian suggested.

Jacinth’s expression went flat. “You must be joking.”

“Hell no. They have both champions, and after Potter’s big parseltongue show, Hufflepuff is the place to be tonight.”

“...Hmph. Whatever.”

Out from the crowd, a voice called out “MELISSA!” The small group stopped as Lev weaved through the crowd towards them. When he reached them, Lev quickly slung an arm over her shoulders. “Good, I catch you. Listen, zat place for my birssday, can ve all hide in zair? Ze Headmaster vill skin us alive ven he sees us after all zis.”

Melissa blinked slowly. “Sure?”

Beside them, Adrian looked on with confusion. “Why is he mad at you? Krum’s the one who got the low score.”

“Yes, but Viktor is Mister Perfect”, answered Lev, with jazz hands emphasizing Krum’s favouritism, “so ze Headmaster vill blame us, instead, for not helping enough.” He looked back down towards Melissa. “So zat was ‘yes’, yes? Good, I vill tell ze ozzers!”

His hurried voice made Melissa chuckle. “You should tell Krum, too. I’m sure he’ll want to hide from your Headmaster, also.” Lev nodded and ran off, and an idea sparked in Melissa’s mind, “Oh! I guess there’s going to be a party, after all. I’ll get the room ready! You all, I need you to tell the others and get them to bring some stuff with them...”

The Durmstrang teens arrived on the seventh floor looking for a place to flee. What they found, instead, was a full on party atmosphere. A record player was in one corner playing a round of music from the Weird Sisters. At another corner was a spread of tables and chairs, where snacks and drinks were slowly popping into existence thanks to the Hogwarts house elves. In the remaining front half was an area fit for a dance floor; while in the back half there was a small swimming pool as well as a hot tub in front of a changing area.

Brodny whistled loudly. “So that’s why Rusalka told us to bring swimming wear. Impressive!”

“That was not there before,” Astrid said slowly. She looked at Melissa with a question in her eyes.

Melissa merely smiled and shrugged as she said, “Trust me, you all need it after today.”

“Yes we do!” someone shouted. One of the boys broke into a run towards the hot tub, and people laughed as he jumped in, clothes and all.

Melissa giggled at the sight, “Well that’s one way to get a party started! Come on, everyone!”

Word of parties had spread over the course of the night. Some ventured downwards to the Hufflepuff Common Room, others ventured upwards towards the Room of Requirement, while a small few held parties in their own common rooms. Those small groups aside, the rest of the parties were full of mixes and minglings; which is how Melissa came upon a group sitting with both Krum and Delacour as they looked over their eggs.

“Have you opened them yet?!”

“Non,” Fleur said, to Melissa’s surprise. “Ze leetle pains do not open!”

That answer confused her. “Really?” Doesn’t it just open and scream at you in Mermish?

“It is a puzzle, see,” Viktor explained. With hands on the top and bottom, he twisted his hands. With it, the egg twisted in rings of opposing directions.

“Oh!”

“Ve must find a pattern to open dem,” Viktor continued, “but it is tricky. Deez lines, dey must match togedder around whole egg.”

With confusion, Melissa stepped closer. From afar, the eggs simply looked scaly; but, on closer inspection, the eggs were decorated with swirls and lines and curls of intricate patterns. That said, it was clear from Krum’s twistings that the egg was divided into multiple lateral rings, leaving the lines disjointed in multiple places.

“Huh. Weird.” So much for the pool being useful. “That’s pretty cool actually. Good luck with figuring it out.” She left soon after, feeling fairly certain she won’t be of much help with their eggs and wanting to continue enjoying the party. After all, there’s a hot tub with my name on it!

Prior to the party starting, she had left her swimsuit in the changeroom, so she beelined over to it and made quick work on being water-ready. Stepping outside, she headed over to the hot tub, only to hesitate on seeing it over-crowded.

“Melissa?”

She turned at the sound of her name, spotting Lev staring at her with wide eyes. She gave him a short wave. “Hey. Enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, his expression unchanged. “You, uh, svimming?”

She looked between the crowded hot tub and the semi-occupied swimming pool. Well I did make it a heated pool… “Yeah, might as well. The hot tub’s a little full right now.”

“Ah.” Something snapped in his expression, and with sudden quickness he said, “I vill join you!” 

She gave him a grin. “Sounds good! I’ll see you there.”

Lev sped off somewhere, likely to find his swimwear, while Melissa followed her new destination and dove into the pool. She embraced the warmth happily, turning on her back and letting herself float gently along. God bless heated pools! They’re no hot tub, but they’re certainly a decadence in their own right!

Minutes into her relaxation, someone cannonballed into the pool beside her. The sudden splash of water made her head shake, and she broke out of the backfloat to see who had jumped in. Out from under the surface popped up Lev, his hair plastered over his face. He moved it back with an embarrassed smile. Then an odd expression fixed on his face.

“Zis vater, it’s varm!”

“Hell yeah it is!”

“But, vy?”

“Uh, because it’s amazing?”

“It’s veerd” he countered. “Relaxing vater is to be one cold and one hot, for taking turns. Two hot vaters don’t make sense.”

“Oh, for saunas, right?” On seeing his nod, she added. “Don’t you guys jump into freezing water for that stuff?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “is ze best!”

“You are so Russian,” Melissa said with a laugh. “I can’t imagine ever jumping into freezing cold water.”

“Ha! Give me until next time you come to ze ship. I’ll zrow you off.”

Melissa fell into an open-mouth gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Yes I vood,” he said gleefully, coming in closer. “I grab you like zis,” he wrapped his arms around her hips and hoisted her up, much to her squealing protest, “and ZROW YOU into ze vater!”

“AH! No!” She kicked her legs fruitlessly while her voice alternated between shouts and laughter, “Don’t! Stop! Let go!”

“Hmm... okay!”

Just like that, he tossed her back into the pool. She resurfaced with thrashing splashes, sputtering all the while. A moment later she rounded on him with a jabbing finger, “You’re mean!”

Lev snickered at her whining. “Yes, but it’s fun.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer.

“You’re not throwing me again!”

“Heh, okay, okay. No more zrowing,” he promised. His arms shifted to be around her upper back instead. “Zis better?”

She sighed with relief. “Much better.” She reopened her eyes from the sigh, finding herself nearly nose-to nose with him. Her mind froze, taking in their closeness. “Umm… Hi.”

He gave a bemused smile. “Hi?”

They said nothing, just staring at each other. Her body wasn’t even moving to tread, finding them secure as he held her. Well this is nice …and awkward. Are we about to-

“Y-AHH!” A sudden scream from the pool’s edge broke them from their staring contest. They had barely a moment to take that in as a flailing body landed beside them. Back on the ledge, Brodny and his friends, Rurik and Yaroslav, were laughing uproariously. Meanwhile, out from the water Rusalka emerged, shouting Russian obscenities at all three boys for tossing her in.

All three boys took turns jumping in, making efforts to make the biggest splash possible, getting Rusalka, Lev, and Melissa hit in the process. This somehow turned into a wave war between both groups of three. Laughter and insults were hurled right along with the water. Then, once they were tired of that game, they divided into teams of two for a game of chicken. Spectators shouted encouragement as the teams wrestled each other into the water, and turns were taken as more people joined in the games. Cheers continued into the night, with their worries and cares fading into nothingness.

Friday November 25th, 1994

The daily mail brought a recap of yesterday’s events. “Triwizard Teens Fight Dragons in First Task,” Amy read aloud. “Congratulations, Dom, your mom finally made the front page.”

“Oh ‘ha ha’,” he mocked in response. 

“Ooo,” Melissa crooned, “double-front page! Harry Potter, a Parselmouth! …although, probably not a good thing to have that mentioned in the news.”

“Especially if it mentions Finch-Fletchley using dark magic to give him that ability,” Amy commented. She peered over Melissa’s shoulder to look at that article. “Does it?”

“Not sure, I only just got it.” She glanced over both articles briefly. At the bottom of the main article, her eyes caught two bolded sections. One was to continue reading about the task challenges, and another provided a reference to another article.

See ‘Triwizard Romance’ on page 7

Huh.

She gave the front page to Amy to read, while interest compelled her to flip over to page seven. There, she was met with a photograph of Fleur giving Cedric a kiss on the cheek, before jumping away to glare at the camera. Judging by the miniature dragon writhing in Cedric’s hand, the photograph was clearly taken inside of the Champion’s Tent. That said, it was still a surprise that this photo-op happened at all. Melissa perused the article with humoured interest. It was written by Rita Skeeter, which meant that not only were the Champions names written wrong, but it was written with a dual slant of ‘this a sweet teen romance, but also has this quarter-veela sunk her claws into the Hogwarts Champion to take advantage of him during the tournament?’

Her eyes moved beyond the paper towards the other tables. It didn’t look like Fleur had gotten to that article yet. Weirdly, she was in deep conversation with Luna, of all people. There was movement in Luna’s hands, she was showing off something- ah, that’s Scales-Like-A-Magpie. She must have asked Luna to tell her about the parseltongue stuff. That’s neat.

Switching her attention to the Hufflepuff table, she found Sierra ribbing Cedric with a wide grin, while a seventh year boy was giving him a pat on the back. Cedric, meanwhile, looked flushed. Oh yeah, he totally knows about it. HA!

Further down the table, the fourth year Puffs looked… a mixture of excited or subdued. Then again, with a front page like today’s, she isn’t all that surprised. She really ought to read it to get a gauge of what’s going on with them. “Hey Ames, let's trade when you’re done. You gotta see what Skeeter wrote about Cedric!”

Tuesday November 29th, 1994

Squeak! cried the mouse. 

Eep! cringed Lucy.

Squeak! Squeak! the mouse sniffed into the air. With a paw, it groomed its face nervously as people peered down on it from its open-air container.

“Well, it’s official,” Melissa mused under her breath. 

“What is?” Sierra asked.

“These guys are adorable, and I’m going to fail this class.”

Sierra gave a snort, while Lucy looked at Melissa with a horror-stricken expression. “Really?! You can read that from the mice?”

“What? No! The opposite.” She gave a sad pout towards the mice, saying, “You can’t expect me to look at these little cuties and think they’re only around as bad omens. That’s just cruel!”

“It’s what Professor Trelawney said,” Lucy countered.

“Well it’s still cruel, and she likes doom predictions anyways so of course she’d think that.”

Sierra snickered under her breath, meanwhile Lucy managed to look less alarmed, although she was still nervous being around the mice.

She wasn’t the only person to feel that way, as became apparent when one of the Beauxbatons girls shrieked and flung her arms away from a mouse box. Unfortunately, in the process of freaking out over the mice, she whacked the container away from her and straight into Fleur Delacour. Fleur herself shrieked in shock as the container flipped over right into her lap. She jumped out of her seat, hopping about and trying desperately to get the mice off of her.

A Veela hopping about, however, had the unfortunate side effect of grabbing every boy’s attention. Terry, Roger, and Jacinth were practically drooling at the sight of her, and their Beauxbaton and Durmstrang counterparts were no better. It took only moments for coupled witches to catch onto what was happening. Poor Patricia was positively crushed over Julien’s dopey grin. Leonora, with some level of restraint, merely huffed and rolled her eyes at Armand’s reaction. On the opposite side of the spectrum, both Linnea and Rusalka smacked their boyfriends to snap them out of the trance.

It was a whole hullabaloo before the mice were flung off and subsequently re-captured for the lesson. Nevertheless, the damage was done, and there was an awkward tension for the remainder of the class.

“You’re unbelievable!” Rusalka huffed quietly as she marched towards the ladder.

“It’s not my fault,” Jacinth grumbled. “The stupid half-breed bewitched me, you know that.”

He may have said it quietly, but there was enough tense silence in the room to carry his voice forward.

“What did you say!” Fleur cried.

“Don’t blame her,” Rusalka snapped, “Staring is one thing, but you had a hand down your robes! That’s beyond indecent!”

Despite having two witches on his case, he focused and flushed angrily at Rusalka. “Oh, I’m the indecent one?” he asked rhetorically. “Last I checked, I’m not the one riding on a half-naked guy’s shoulders while other guys fondle her like some whore!”

There was a gasp in the room, followed immediately by a, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?! FLIPENDO! ”

Spellfire shot out of Rusalka wand like a whip. Jacinth dodged it- the spell hitting Terry in the process- and fired off a spell of his own in Rusalka’s direction. She dodged it, and another teen got hit. From there, pandemonium exploded as spellfire shot out in various directions. Professor Trelawney called for people to stop, yet her soft voice was drowned out by the calls of spells.

Melissa tried to dodge and defend as needed. She wasn’t sure if the fight would stop any time soon, so instead she played shield while Lucy and Sierra made for the trapdoor. Someone else had opened it before them, and Lucy hurried down the ladder. 

Sierra stepped forward, only to duck with a shout as flames singed her hair. “Terry, that hit me, you ass!” Then, just to make a point, she fired a spell back his way, knocking him out cold.

A monstrous figure loomed out from the trapdoor, and Melissa backed away with dread.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” Professor Moody shouted over the ramble.

Spellfire ceased immediately.

Nobody moved. Such was the fear invoked by Mad-Eye Moody.

“WELL?!”

Instead of words, Rusalka answered by breaking down into tears. Melissa, and everyone else for that matter, gaped in shock by the girl’s sudden breakdown.

Professor Moody growled in annoyance. “Fine. First things first, everyone hurt goes to the hospital wing. The rest of you, stay here for questioning.”

Melissa didn’t need to be told twice. With Hollywood-level acting, she took hold of Sierra for support and limped over to the ladder. She waited at the end of the tower, though, as Rusalka was guided out by Fleur and Linnea. She had tears down her face, and was hyperventilating and shaking along with it.

“Take her to the hospital wing,” Linnea said simply. “I’m going to find Brodny. He needs to know about this.”

“Alright,” said Fleur. Linnea stormed down the tower. It was only as she left, however, that Fleur stopped and looked entirely lost.

“Here,” said Melissa, taking Ru’s other side and foregoing her false limp. “I know the way.”

Fleur gave a sigh of relief, “Zank you.”

They all made it to the hospital wing, with the Matron tutting of the state of the group. She worked on those with obvious spell damage first. This allowed the others to move to one side and bring Rusalka to a bed to sit on. The poor girl was inconsolable, even as Brodny marched in with fury in his eyes.

“I heard vot happened,” he gave a growl. “Stupid fucking boy- I’m going to break him!”

“NO!” Rusalka screeched.

Linnea huffed beside him. “I can hex off his balls for you.”

“Heh, I will join you,” Fleur said with a smirk.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” Rusalka cried. “It’s- it’s not his fault.”

“He called you a whore!” Brodny said angrily.

“And what was all that bullshit about boys fondling you?” Sierra asked.

“I-” Rusalka hiccoughed through her tears, looking very lost, “I think he means at the party, when we were all in the pool.”

Melissa’s expression flattened. “You mean when we were having a chicken fight?” The answer came as a nod. “Jesus fucking Christ, that was a game. It was nothing!”

“But- maybe he’s right-”

“Oh HELL no!” This time it was Sierra who kicked in. “Ignatov, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were playing a game with friends, and Wystan’s being- you know what- I know what it is- he’s being a jealous and insecure prat because he knows you can do better than him and sees those guys as a threat. The thing is, he’s right in that you are better than him,” she stepped forward and looked Rusalka directly in the eyes, “and I think, deep down, you know that too.”

A spark of some sort appeared in Rusalka’s eyes. A moment later, she broke back down into tears, crying harder than before. Minutes passed as she let her emotions out. In that time, a few others trickled into the infirmary, including Leonora and Armand as they brought in a banged-up Roger Davis. After that, they joined the others with sorrowful looks in Rusalka’s direction.

As time wore on, Brodny spoke up with a hand on her shoulder. “Your friend is right. Your Jacinth, he is no good. You are powerful, you have a fire in you. Always have. I hate that this boy is making you feel like this. He needs to pay.”

“F-f-fine,” The word was forced out. “I’ll make him pay. He thinks I’m a whore? Fine, I’ll get together with a bunch of guys then. See what he thinks of that!”

People gasped, with Leonora crying out, “That’s indecent!”

“Well that’s what he thinks, isn’t it?”

“Zat’s because ‘e eez an idiot,” Fleur huffed.

“Exactly,” Melissa nodded. “Plus, there are better ways to get revenge than that.”

“Hmph,” Rusalka gave a dejected huff. “What do I do, then?”

“Don’t go out with a bunch of guys, go out with a guy,” she suggested. “Someone buff and good-looking who will really fuck with his ego but Wystan will be too afraid to mess with. Then, when the Yule Ball happens-”

“What?” Sierra asked.

“-The Triwizard dance party,” she said slowly. Did word not spread about that? “Anyways, when the Ball happens, you show up arm-in-arm with this guy looking like a total bombshell-”

“A what?”

Seriously, people! “A bombshell. A woman so stunningly beautiful and glamorous that every man in the room stops and stares. We’re gonna make you look so good that you’ll even make Fleur envious.” She stopped, catching herself in the obvious jab. Others, meanwhile, chuckled at that remark. Strangely, even Fleur seemed to enjoy the remark. She looked to Fleur, who further surprised Melissa with a nod of approval. Bolstered, she continued. “You’re going to look so Circe-graced gorgeous, and have such a fun time that you won’t even look in his direction; and when he sees all this, he’s going to regret ever treating you the way he has.”

“And that’s…” Rusalka looked up and around the group. “You think that’s the right idea?”

Linnea gave a half-shrug, “Personally, I still think we should hex his balls off for good measure.”

That response got people laughing.

“Better than what you and I were thinking,” Brodny said darkly, “Especially your plan of many boys.”

She cringed in reflexive embarrassment. “Right. Yes, that would have been an awful idea. …Okay. We’ll go with Mel’s idea.” She frowned, “But who do I ask?”

“What about Krum?” Sierra asked.

“Nah, that’d never work,” Melissa waved off, “he’s got a thing for bookworms. Besides, we need a guy that’s buff and handsome.”

“Should I tell him you said that?” Brodny asked teasingly.

Melissa winced, “Please don’t.” 

At that moment, the Matron walked over to the group. “All right, Miss Ignatov, do you know what spells were you hit with?”

Rusalka was slow to answer. “Actually, Madam Pomfrey, I was only here for a calming draught, but,” she looked to the others and absorbed their supportive energy, “I think I’m okay, now.”

The Matron blinked, taking on her expression, tear-streaked face, and those around her; then graced the girl with a comforting smile. “Alright, dear. I’m glad that you’re feeling better. Now, if no one else is hurt, it’s best you all take your leave. Lunch is still in progress.” The group gave a nod, glad to take their leave now that their friend was on her way to feeling better. 

Before they fully left, Rusalka took Melissa by the wrist and spoke quietly. “Thanks again, Melissa. I-” she looked away for a moment, “before we go, can you do something for me?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I can’t- I’m terrified of what he’ll say when he finds out, so can you-?” She turned Melissa’s wrist upwards, and deposited a silvery object into her hand. When Melissa saw what the object was, her eyes went wide. “It’s cowardly, I know, but it’s the right thing to do, and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” She closed her fist around the item, “I’ll handle things from here. Go on with the others, I’ll catch up.”

Rusalka sagged in relief. “Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s what friends are for.”

That response was met with a quick hug, before the teen scampered off after the others.

Friends …with Rusalka Ignatov. Never thought I’d reach that stage on a real front.  

She looked back towards the other hospital beds. On spotting Jacinth bandaged up and seething in his bed, Melissa rolled her shoulders. Guess it’s time to put that reality into action.

She walked up to him slowly, taking time so that the others had more time to escape. When enough time was wasted, she clicked her tongue loudly. “Hey, Wystan, Ru asked me to pass on a message to you.”

He looked up at her with a glare. Heartbeats passed before he finally said, “Well?! What is it?!”

She brought her fist high over his lap. In dramatic silence a silver bracelet of jacinths and aquamarines fell onto his lap. His eyes widened at the sight, and he looked up at her, aghast.

“The message is: Piss off, Jacinth! It’s over between us!”

The words startled him into strangled rage. There was even further silence as those in hearing distance stopped to stare at the altercation. In that silence, Melissa spun on her heel and walked out, leaving the angry ex and their spectators in her wake.

Chapter Text

Monday December 5th, 1994

Life over the past week was awkward amongst the sixth years. Word had spread about the fight during Divination class. Points were lost, several people got detention, not to mention the stares everyone was giving Jacinth, Ru, and Fleur. The harshest of stares, though, were equally distributed between Jacinth and Fleur. For the former, the reasons were obvious. However, there were many people (a.k.a jealous teenage girls) who blamed Fleur for what happened, as though her very existence was a problem. It was only the sixth year girls that took exception to this, resulting in shouting matches in the girl’s defence. Fleur’s reaction to all of this was mainly confusion. After all, it wasn’t every day that fellow girls took her side in something like this, and the resulting ingratiation into Hogwarts-based friendships further confused her (though her smiles suggested that the confused state wasn’t unwelcomed).

The Ignatov-Wystan breakup wasn’t the last of romance drama, however, as was soon to come when Professor Snape called for a house meeting on Monday morning.

“On the twenty-first of December,” he said slowly, “there is to be a Yule Ball held in celebration for the Triwizard Tournament.”

Chatter began immediately at the news. Excitement spiked amongst the students, climbing until a loud call of, “SILENCE!” quieted them with a threatening chill.

“As I was saying… This Ball is an optional event for those in fourth year and above. Those of you in third year and below may only attend if an older student accompanies them as a date.” The word date might as well have been ‘prune’ for how disgusted he appeared at having said the word. “Younger students are otherwise banned from the event. Any attempts to sneak into the Ball will be met by a week’s worth of detentions.

“With the day of the Ball taking place on Yule, there will be two trains leaving for London this holiday. The first will be on the 19th for those not attending the Ball, and the second will be on the 22nd, for those that wish to spend the remainder of their holidays with family. I will leave sign-up sheets for both dates, and you’d best believe that these lists will be checked over.”

A pause fell as the man took a deep breath. “The Ball will open with a waltz. Those that wish to participate will take lessons on Sundays by your fellow peers trained in the art of dance.”

Trained in the art of dance? Melissa’s head tilted. Who, how, and when- and I just heard Snape say “the art of dance” with my own ears. That’s mind-boggling!

“I suggest you find dance partners before this Sunday. Do not embarrass our House before the international community.”

Snape left shortly after his announcement, giving the children free reign to let their excitement boom. Everyone started conversations about the Ball, with a gaggle of third years seeking out older students, hoping to snag a ticket to the Ball.

Melissa felt a hand clasp her wrist. At her side, Rusalka whispered, “Is Operation Bombshell still happening?”

She gave the girl a slow smirk, “Hell yeah, it is!” She gestured for the door. “Let’s find Fleur. We’ll plan things over breakfast.”

How any teacher thought people would pay attention today was a mystery to Melissa. All throughout Charms people were whispering and giggling; and from what she’d been told, it was much the same during Herbology, with the addition that Adrian had apparently beelined to Juliet McCormack with an enchanted flower (plucked from the greenhouse) to ask her to the Ball. His romantic gesture had stirred the ladies (and intimidated the boys), and now everyone was expecting big romantic gestures before going to the Ball.

Melissa could only shake her head as people bolted to find dates or to plan their promposals, as it were. She, herself, simply went for lunch. It was cute seeing the kids scramble for dates, but she had no rush or need for anything like that.

Although… she spied a nervous-looking Harry sitting at a table, I should really do that boy a favour.

She took a spot across from him at the Hufflepuff table. Her action snapped his head up at once, Master of Death and Reincarnate meeting eye-to-eye for the first time in weeks. There was an obvious power-imbalance between the two, energy wise, yet Melissa’s unusual smile seemed to shift the balance as he squirmed with unease.

“What’s happened?” Harry asked slowly.

“Nothing. Yet.” Her eerie smile grew larger. “But with the lack of rumours surrounding you, I believe it’s time I stage a Magdalene on your behalf.”

From Harry’s side, Justin gave her an odd look, “I think you mean ‘stage an intervention’.”

“Mm, yes and no,” she said with a dismissive flick of her hand. Her focus returned to Harry, who was now looking truly nervous.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“When it comes to the Yule Ball, you should only go with someone you’re romantically interested in, as a date, or go with a friend and tell them outright that you’re going together as friends.”

His head tilted. “I think I already have that covered. I’ve already said no to one girl I don’t know.”

“Yes, but I don’t want you asking an acquaintance, only to make her sit around bored at the Ball because you’re too busy moping over not having a real date.”

“What?!” He suddenly looked alarmed. “But what about Cho?!”

Her mind fell into an awkward pause. “...Are you two still dating? Everyone says that you two haven’t been around each other since Hogsmeade.”

“Well-,” he cut himself off briefly. “I’ve been pretty busy. I’m still working on the egg and-” His eyes went wide again. “Is that bad?!”

Silence fell. So did Melissa’s face. She took a deep breath and muttered, “Jesus, Harry, you’re so bad at this,” as she rubbed her face. By the time she looked back up at the boy, he was shrinking into his seat. “Kid, you have 36 hours to ask her out with a gift of sweets or flowers. If you wait any longer than that she’ll definitely think that you’re not interested in her anymore.” He gave a slow, frightful nod, hopefully taking her words to heart.

Good. Seriously, this kid, genuinely useless at dating and romance! She rose out of her seat. “Ball’s in your court, kid. Don’t mess it up. If you do, well… at least stick to the Magdalene.”

“Um, who else would I have-?”

“Nope! Don’t ask. Don’t think about it because you’re not allowed to let it happen. Got it?”

“...Got it.”

“Good.”

She left the hopeless-at-romantics behind, heading over to the Slytherin section for her food. She slid into a seat between friends, verbalising a prayer of, “Please tell me this table can provide some sanity when it comes to dating world gossip.”

Some people chuckled, and Domonkos asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She poured herself a drink and went for a swig.

“Well, if you want gossip,” Amy obliged, “Kenneth just asked Jacqueline to the Ball.”

She nearly choked on her drink. She lowered her cup, a small cough clearing the surprise, and she looked over at Jacqueline with wide, questioning eyes. “Oh?”

Jacqueline was entirely poised as she added, “I said yes, of course. We’ve grown quite close this term.”

What… the fuck?

“Oh. Nice. Congratulations,” she answered with a fixed smile. “So, that’s three of you done- I assume you don’t really need to ask Eloise, right?” The question was directed at Domonkos.

“No, but I should check what colour dress robes she’s wearing to the Ball.”

“Oh, right, dress robes,” Adrian blinked. “So that’s why they asked us to bring one this year.”

“Mhmm!”

Amy reacted to Melissa’s hum with an amused headshake, “Which, of course, you already knew about, right?”

She gave the girl an impish grin before answering, “I may or may not have bought a set of dress robes with a winter motif to match the theme.”

“Ha! At this point, Mel, I’m not even surprised.”

Tuesday December 6th, 1994

“Woo! Alright, great practice everyone!” The group of muggleborns (and smattering of half-bloods) gave each other applause at Melissa’s praise. “Now remember, third years, see if you can find fourth years to pair up with, and make sure you all keep your reasons a secret!”

Everyone gave nods, and the group disbanded to chat happily amongst themselves as they made plans or headed for the door.

“This is going to be brilliant, Mel,” Corin laughed as he met up with her. “Can you imagine the look on everyone’s faces?”

“Not gonna lie, I’m half-tempted to give Dumbledore a private lesson so that he can join us.”

“HA!” he laughed loudly. “Oh my god! I can’t- No, but that would be brilliant.”

“It really would. So who are you going to pair up with?”

“Me? Oh, no one.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I actually asked Bea to the Ball after Potions.”

“You did?! I totally missed that!” Another thought occurred to her. “Oh, Strickland and Sykes are going to be pissed when they find out.”

Corin shot her a grin. “I think Terry will just be happy that she’s not going with Sykes. That bloke is a complete prick.”

“No kidding. When did those two even break up, anyways?”

There was a confused, yet amused, look on his face. “About twenty minutes after Sykes insulted you at that party for being muggleborn.”

“Really?” She considered that night in her mind. “Technically he was just stating facts, though.”

Corin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, in the douchiest way possible. Bea confronted him about it and they broke up once she realized that he’s a full-blown blood supremacist.”

Wow! “Okay, how did I not hear about this? Isn’t the gossip mill in Hogwarts, like, the fastest thing on the planet?”

“I’m pretty sure we all had better things to talk about,” he said teasingly. “Plus, the fight was quiet, or so she told me, but we talked about it afterwards.”

“And you swooped in, knowing that their break-up wasn’t big news, before anyone else knew about it,” she nodded in understanding.

“Or,” Corin countered, “Bea is her own person and she said yes to the bloke she’s interested in.”

“Ah. Touché.” She gathered the rest of her things, and the two of them made for the door.

“What about you?” Corin asked. “I take it you’re going with that Durmstrang guy, right?”

“Uhh, probably?” she answered as she held the door open for him. “I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest, but-”

*BA-DAM DA-DAM!*

A trumpet of brass made her jump as she stepped into the hallway. Their section of the hall was littered with flowers, and exiting muggleborns had made way for a quartet of students with instruments in hand. The blast quieted into music from the quartet, with Lev at their head playing a guitar as he walked towards her.

Melissa froze. She flashed a quick look around, catching Corin with a smug and laughing grin as the spectacle unfolded. You, shut your face up! Her eyes turned back to Lev as he walked forward. Once he was a metre away, he got down on one knee and, with a flourish, presented her with a bouquet of flowers that had been attached to his guitar.

“My dear enchantress,” he said with dramatic and careful pronunciation, “will you come wit-th me to the Ball?”

Holy shit, dude! Did I miss something between us?!

And yet, her silly inner-romantic was floored by the gesture. “Wow. I- Yes. Absolutely!”

His smile widened. He stood mid-way, allowing her to take the flowers in her hand, before moving his guitar aside and embracing her with a big hug. Those in attendance started to applaud the promposal, with two people even whistling at the outcome. Melissa gave a confused laugh over it all. “I would have said yes even without all of this,” she said in his ear.

“I know,” Lev said simply, “but I vanted to do somezing you vood like.”

Curse her inner-romantic, but he was right! Lev was really sweet to have done all of this.

“Flatterer,” she teased. They let go, and she gave him a cheeky curtsey, “I’d be delighted to come with you to the Ball, Lev.”

He gave a laugh and confidently proclaimed, “Good, because I vood go vit no von else.”

She wasn’t going to lie, a part of her melted on hearing those words.

Saturday December 10th, 1994

Work continued on her Independent Study Project. Today her research into workable materials continued with a focus on gemstones. Dozens of test subjects lay before her, made up of sixteen types of stones, each in variations of state, for them to work with.

“I’m rather surprised,” Snape said, though his voice gave little emotion to the words as he eyed each piece, “I had thought Wystan would decline his services after yesterday’s… incident.”

Incident. What a lovely way to describe hexing a jackass in the face. “In my defence, that’s what he gets for not accepting No for an answer.” Honestly, why did that idiot think Ru would take him back, just like that? She clicked her tongue, “And, anyways, these aren’t from him. My family managed to find what I needed, and then I did the rest. Powdering a ruby is a bitch, by the way.”

“Do cease your complaining, Bennett. Preparing the ingredients with your own magic is a requirement for well-made potions.”

“Hey, I did the work, didn’t I?” she said with a grouse. “So what now? We call in Harry to test them all?”

“I will look into that at another time, when you are not present to cause a distraction,” he stated. “For now, you need to work on the arithmancy behind each potential variable, as you had with the herbology variables.”

“You had me do that after Harry tested them, though.”

Snape took a breath, then spoke more as if giving a lecture than his usual beratement, “Herbology results are far more fickle than you could manage to calculate in the time given. Seasons, moon phases, soil, each holds minute fluctuations that can affect the results of our experiments. So, instead, I had Potter experiment with them in a basic scope, and weeded out any options that showed no obvious reactions.”

Heh! “Weeded out. Pun intended?”

His expression darkened. “No.”

Geez, this man’s a stick in the mud. She clicked her tongue. “So, unlike plant-life, rocks and minerals don’t have as many problematic variations. Therefore I can weed out bad options early?”

“No. You are to do these calculations so that when Potter finishes his tests, we can compare his results to various measurements and work to find correlations between them.”

“Oh!” Her mind focused, and then began to race. “And if we can find correlations it can also help us figure out workable metals. Then, depending on which variables have correlations, we can look into other things; like see if specific cadences of song magic will harmonise with certain crystalline structures! That’s brilliant, Professor!”

Snape reacted to the ramble with a strange level of… amusement? “Precisely, Miss Bennett.” He gestured over the collection. “Work through your calculations. If you miss anything of note, I will have you go through the entire study over again. Is that clear?”

“Crystal!” she said happily. She was only dismayed that he seemed to ignore not one, but both of her intended puns! How cruel!

She worked on her calculations all morning. It was a tricky but overall fun activity. Her enjoyment of the activity was short-lived, however, as the afternoon was filled with bouts of nausea.

Picking herself off the floor (again), she woozily went over to her parchment. “Let’s call that a… seven point five out of ten, at…” she looked at her watch, “2:47pm.”

From her own vanity, Jacqueline looked on, horrified. “Are you sure this is safe? Whatever it is the Twins are making you test out is clearly hurting you!”

“It’s fiiine, it’s fine,” Melissa dismissed. “‘Sides,” she slurred, “if I don’t test this, they’ll get the first years involved. Better me than them.”

“Better no one than this!” Jacqueline huffed. “I’m a Prefect. I can report them to Professor Snape and he’ll put a stop to this at once!”

Good luck with that. Snape and Houdini are the ones doing this to me in the first place, she thought with weak amusement. “Hey, hey, don’t go tattling on me! This is my choice to do. Trust me, Jackie.”

“...The fact that you’re calling me ‘Jackie’ says enough about your ill health as it is.”

“Let’s talk about more fun things,” Melissa said in a daze. “You and Ken, what’s up with that?”

Jacqueline gave an annoyed sigh, “Must we talk about this?”

“Hey, no one else is here to listen in. So come on, spill, what happened ‘tween you and Luce?”

“Nothing happened,” she said, “but she and I can hardly go to the Ball together, can we?”

“Huh. I suppose not-ugh!” Another bout of nausea hit her. It lasted for a few seconds, and the feeling dissipated not long after. Once it was gone, she glanced at her watch and made another note. Not as bad as the fifth one, but worse than the twelfth. So let’s call it Two Point Two out of Ten, at 2:50pm.

“So what’s your plan, then?” Melissa asked, then added with a light tease, “Gonna string Kenny along thinking you're a real date?”

“It’s not like that,” she promised. “He… feels insecure about trying to ask someone out, so we’re going as friends.”

Melissa narrowed her eyes, “That’s not what you said the other day.”

“Does it matter?” Jacqueline snapped harshly. “I’m going with Kenneth and Lucy is going with Jason. We all agreed to it, and I’m tired of this needless interrogation!”

“Whoa!” Her hands went up in surrender. “Whoa- sorry, geez, okay, I’ll stop asking. Bloody hell.”

She backed up onto her bed, wondering what crawled up Jacqueline’s ass all of a sudden. Not as if I’m the one who’s been helping her, eh? Honestly, so ungrateful-

Before she knew it, her brain twitched her body into sleep. Dreams of her life, her old life, flitted around her. Family, friends, places, memories. Their images seemed to fly by her, yet her dream-self simply accepted the changes as fact as she moved further and further down her life.

The next time she woke, it was to Jacqueline screaming her name, and an ice & lightning pain searing through her body.

“Melissa?! Oh, thank Merlin! Are you alright? Say something!”

In a move of pure determination, Melissa lifted a single forearm into the air to silence the other girl. Then, with the last of her strength, she spoke her thoughts aloud, “Eight point seven!”

“Apophyllite, in its solid form,” Snape pronounced upon reading through her entries. “You also had a strong reaction to its powdered form, though not quite as harshly.”

Melissa cringed into her seat. Though it was a better reaction than the level of guilt Harry was going through.

“I’m really sorry, Melody-”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up, Houdini. I asked for this, didn’t I?”

Thank fuck Snape made Jacqueline leave, Melissa thought with a cringe. Her mind drifted to thirty minutes earlier, when Jacqueline had dragged Melissa into Snape’s office, only to catch him and Harry going over the stones with the Elder Wand. Mercifully, Jacqueline hadn’t asked any questions. She did give Harry a suspicious look, but once she explained the situation to Professor Snape, she accepted his assurances to look after Melissa and had promptly left.

Of course, what Jacqueline didn’t know is that the three continued with the experiment after she had left. It was fortunate for Melissa to discover that a change in location did not mess with the results of the previous tests (if what Snape’s double-blind claims were to be believed).

“So, this stone,” Harry began, “apophyllite, will it be useful for the amulet?”

“No,” Snape said simply. “According to these notes, the Elder Wand merely amplified the stone’s magic to resurface memories of her past life.”

WHAT?! Don’t tell him that, you arse! He doesn’t know-!

“Oh. Okay then,” said Harry.

WHAT?!!!?!?!?! Her head whipped between Harry and Snape, her face full of shock and audacity. Did this motherfucker tell Harry everything?!!?! What the fuck, dude???!!!!

Her voice strangled as questions and outrage tangled in her throat. She could only stare at them, fully bewildered, as Snape continued to go through the notes as if nothing was amiss.

“The red and rutilated quartzes are worthless, as is carnelian,” he announced. “That’s three more to the junk pile.”

I’m so confused, but I have to bottle it up for now. Damn, and I really had high hopes for the carnelian. “What else went there?” she asked.

“The celestine, fluorite, and lapis lazuli samples shattered almost immediately,” he answered. 

Shattered?! 

“Opal, labradorite and unakite worked briefly before they, too, broke under pressure. Then there’s the tiger iron, which partially degraded despite offering you some protection. Though, considering its makeup, I can see why. A similar thing happened to the apophyllite, but that, too, seems reasonable considering the circumstances.”

Melissa gave a slow nod as she heard his explanations. She considered her chart of stones, trying to find correlations between which ones failed and which passed. “Uh… well, everything with a positive optic sign failed,” whatever that means, “also everything that’s low on the hardness scale broke, …except,” she furrowed her brow, “did you mention jet or hematite?”

“No, those two ranked amongst the highest with your tolerance levels.”

“But that’s-” she looked over the results again. “If things were shattering because of their hardness level, then the jet should have been the easiest to break. Even hematite- it’s got a similar hardness to labradorite, so it should have broken, too, right?”

Harry considered her words, then said, “Maybe they didn’t break because they’re black?”

The other two looked at him flatly.

“I mean,” he sputtered, “none of the black stones broke, and the resurrection stone is black, too, so it could fit, right?”

“By that logic, the tiger iron would have also been fine because it’s got hematite in it,” Melissa argued. “Hell, even the quartzes have hematite and black tourmaline in their mix.”

“Mister Potter may have a point,” Snape said, to everyone’s shock. “It was the hematite bands of the tiger iron that remained intact. As for the quartzes, they did not crack. They did, however, only provide weak protections against the Hallows. Their compositions saved them, but clearly higher concentrations of hematite and black tourmaline are needed for your experiments.”

Colour? Is that seriously the hypothesis this research is going for? “And, what, should I go look for black rubies and emeralds, while I’m at it?”

“Along with black variations of fluorite and opal, if you can find them.”

“Do I look like I’m made of money?!”

Harry looked bashfully between them. “Erm, I could buy them for you, if that’d help?”

She didn’t answer straight away, mainly in a struggle to accept the growing hypothesis. “Well… if you’re volunteering, I suppose.” Lord knows he’s got the money for it.

“Ensure they are not synesthetic,” Snape cautioned. “The synthetic gemstones provided no protection.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then,” Melissa said with a sigh, “Guess that’s our next step for testing. I’ll go over the results and calculations; then, Harry, I’ll give you the specs of what kinds of gems to buy. Best that we be careful with tones and clarity since that’s apparently a factor we have to consider.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded. Then, pensive, he asked, “What about the stones we already have?”

“They’ve already been tainted by the experiment. Well, the ones that broke, at least.”

“They all are,” Snape noted. “However there may be a benefit to studying longitudinal exposure to the Hallows.

Ugh, that sounds painful. “Yeah, I suppose so. Just for the top five stones that made it, though. As for the rest…” She picked up a few stones and studied them. There wasn’t any overt sense of death within them that she could find. So, technically, they can be useful. “I’m gonna make myself some jewellery for the Ball. Hey, Harry, do you know what colour Cho’s wearing?”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, find out for me. You can give her something nice for the Ball.”

His eyes went wide. “That’s brilliant! Thanks, Melody!”

“Don’t mention it, Houdini. Gotta surprise a lady once in a while to impress her.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Spare me your insipid chatter. Go, if we’re done here.”

“Yes, Professor!” they shouted in unison, then gathered the gemstones and rushed out to enjoy the rest of their day.

Chapter Text

Monday December 19th, 1994

A team of four owls swooped into the Great Hall at breakfast carrying a small, ornate chest. People watched with curiosity as the owls landed at the Slytherin table in front of an eager pair of sixth-years.

“Is that it?” Rusalka whispered excitedly.

“It’s gotta be,” Melissa said, eyeing the gold-and-purple chest with interest. “Here, sweethearts, you four must be hungry after such a busy task.”

“HOO!” cried the owls, and all descended eagerly upon a plate of sausages.

A small batch of madness and feathers erupted from the display. While others were distracted by the chaos, Melissa untied a roll of parchment that was attached on top of the chest.

Dear Melissa,

I’m delighted to hear from you, and with such a stupendous request, no less! Your devotion to my work is a pleasure, as always. In fact, I’m so taken by this grand request that I’ve enclosed a generous discount along with the order.

Be sure to tell your friends all about where you got these from!

With love,

Gilderoy Lockhart

The letter was signed with a flourishing signature and a spray of cologne. The scent, and his words, elicited a huff through her nose. Remus and Tonks did the work, not you. Still, the request came with a discount, so who was she to argue? Plus, more orders to Lockhart will lead to more money to the Lupins, at the end of the day, so all the better that she plays along.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Rusalka asked.

“Not here,” Melissa answered. “We’ll meet up with the others after breakfast. Lots of commotion from the people leaving on the Express will keep us obscured.”

Rusalka nodded with a smile. “Good idea. Best we do this away from prying eyes.”

Wednesday December 21st, 1994

Harry paced nervously at the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower, waiting for Cho to make her way down.

“You need to relax, Harry,” said Wayne. “You’re making the rest of us anxious.”

Harry looked about the area, finding that several blokes were shifting nervously or with impatience as they waited, with several averting their gazes as he caught them.

“Right- sorry-” Harry ducked his head. He moved to stand beside Wayne. Then, after a few moments of silence, started fidgeting with his robes. “Do I look alright?”

“You look fine, mate,” Wayne said without so much as a glance.

“You’re not even looking!”

That got the boy to move. He gave Harry a once-over, gave a quiet expulsion of, “Ah,” and then adjusted the collar of Harry’s dress robes, “there, that’s better. The sleekeazy’s holding up. I’m surprised.”

“It’s an extra-strength variety,” Harry explained. It actually came from his experiments with his grandfather’s notes. Snape had even given it a seal of approval back in September, which is a lot coming from the dour potions master! Harry had relished in that praise for a whole week!

“Knowing your mop, I’m not surprised you need it,” Wayne said with a laugh. Then a sight from over Harry’s shoulder caught Wayne’s eye. “Wow! Mandy, you look amazing!”

Harry turned to find Wayne’s date, Mandy Brocklehurst, dressed in pale red dress robes. She flashed Wayne with a brilliant smile. “Thanks, Wayne. You’re looking dapper, yourself.”

“Only the best for you, my lady,” Wayne gave her a cheeky bow. “Speaking of which,” he revealed from his robes a corsage of pale red carnations, “this is for you, as a token of my admiration.”

If she was happy before, Mandy was downright ecstatic now. “These are beautiful, Wayne! Thank you!”

“My pleasure!” Wayne helped her add the corsage to her wrist. Then, presenting his arm to her, he said, “Shall we go to the ball, my lady?”

“Yes, let’s head over, good sir,” she took his arm with playful gusto, and the two headed off (with Wayne giving Harry a wink as he walked away.)

It was at that moment that Harry began to spiral. 

Should I have gotten Cho a corsage? Is that a tradition? Oh god, did I fuck up?! Did I bring the wrong thing?! Shit! Do I have time to get some flowers? She’ll be here any minute!

“Harry?”

Fuck!

Harry stilled. Taking a deep breath, he turned around to face Cho. His eyes widened, taking in her stylized hair, makeup, and silver dress robes. The dress robes were decorated with pink and red flowers, and were styled in a modest but very elegant way that he found suited her well.

Come on, Harry, say something!

“You -er- look nice.”

Look nice?! Wayne’s words to Mandy suddenly repeated in his head, and he knew immediately that his own words had come up short.

Cho gave him a small smile, to his relief. “Thanks, Harry,”

“Oh! Uh-,” he scrambled into the pocket of his dress robes, finding the box he was searching for, “here! I got you something!”

Cho took the box, and opened it to reveal a bracelet of precious stones. At the centre were three opals- with the largest nestled between the other two, and the rest of the bracelet was decorated with circles of red quartz.

“It matches your dress,” he said simply. He gave her arm a glance, and sputtered on seeing her long, draping sleeves. “Though, uh, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. You’re probably already wearing something, or don’t want one at all, so-”

“No,” Cho said quickly, “I love it, and I’d love to wear it.”

“Really?!”

“Mhmm,” Cho gave him a happy nod. She took the bracelet out of the box and put the box away. “Can you help me put it on?”

“Sure!” Harry took the bracelet, and Cho presented a bare wrist to him. He struggled a little out of nervousness, but he’s had experience with helping girls put on jewellery, so it didn’t take as long as he feared. When he finished, Cho thanked him graciously, and then admired the stones on her wrist.

From the back of his mind, Wayne’s words echoed, and Harry mustered up the courage to try some charm. “Alright, my lady, shall we go to the ball?”

Cho giggled, a sound musical to his ears, and said, “Yes, let’s.” She took his arm- making his face grow red- and the two headed down to the entrance hall.

They were a few minutes away from the doors opening into the ball. Harry had been busy talking with his fellow Champions and, to Harry’s shock, Hermione- who was Viktor’s date to the ball. She looked entirely different, with her hair smoothed and her person dressed to the nines for tonight’s event. He was happy to see her own happiness, and congratulated both Hermione and Viktor on their new relationship. Their talks continued until voices fell all around him. He looked to find the source of everyone’s silence, and the sight before him left him mute.

A pair of teens had entered from the Durmstrang contingent. Arm in arm with the wizard was a witch whose hair shimmered with an array of colours. Aqua green and teal, indigo and purple, all entwine within flowing streaks of pure white. Her dress robes, though mainly a dark royal blue, showcased these colours as well, with the hems of the dress shifting as an aurora borealis breezed with snow. Snowflakes also adorned the buttons of the dress robes, a pure brightness against the dark and colourful night. Whoever this girl was, she was a strange and wild sight, like some sort of frosty wood nymph came to life.

Voices whispered as the pair passed by. Yet they didn’t stop to speak with anyone until they reached someplace beyond the crowd.

From the entrance came gasps of other onlookers, and Harry couldn’t help but turn to seek out the latest commotion. Another couple had walked inside; and, at the sight of the witch, Harry’s jaw dropped to the floor.

Bedecked in a flowing dress of red and black fire was one of the most beautiful witches Harry has ever seen! Her face was statuesque and fierce, with ice blue eyes that contrasted against fiery makeup. Her hair, too, was an array of colours, but in a fiery ombre from the deep purple coals to the blazing reds down to the enticing yellows. Even the way she moved seemed to invoke fire, the dress robes blazing and flickering as she walked with regal confidence.

If the former girl was a frosty wood nymph, this woman is a goddess of fire!

She, however, did not move quickly as the wood nymph did. She took her time, with a surety of every eye falling on her. Yet no attention was paid to the lowly peasants around them. Instead, she and her black-haired beau continued on at their leisure, making their way to the doors of the great hall.

“Who are they?” Cho asked, the first to break the silence of their circle.

“No idea,” Harry murmured.

“Zey are friends of mine,” Fleur said smugly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Fleur. “Friends of yours?”

“Yes. Zey are gorgeous, are zey not?”

“I’ll say!” Cedric blurted out. On hearing this, Fleur’s eyes flickered through an odd mix of emotions, and Cedric started to sweat. “I mean, that trick with their hair is pretty incredible. That’s all.”

“Yes,” Fleur seemed amused by his sputtering, “among other things.”

Harry wasn’t sure what Fleur meant by other things, and wanted to ask about it. However, before he could, he heard Professor McGonagall call out, “Champions, over here please!”

The six teens walked over to the professor, who succinctly informed them to wait by the doors until everyone else gets seated inside. After that, they will enter in a procession behind the professor. Fleur and Cedric opted to walk in first, as they made up half of the tournament. Harry offered the next spot to Viktor, stating the logic of him being an intended champion for the tournament (rather than the truth of Harry feeling nervous about the whole procession thing.)

The doors to the great hall opened, and soon all of the casual attendees made their way through the doors. He gave quick waves as his friends walked through. Hannah and Justin; Oliver and Megan; Draco and Lily; Kevin, Sally, Ron, and Dean -all four of whom had asked third or second years to the ball, to his surprise; this surprise continued when he saw Neville walk in with Ginny at his arm; meanwhile Parvati and her sister, Padma, were accompanied by boys from the other schools. Many of them waved back as they passed, but a near equal amount gaped upon seeing Hermione, with her new look, standing with Viktor.

More people passed through the doors until the entrance hall was nearly empty. The last to leave, however, were the colourful witches and their beaus. The fire witch walked through, first, her once-stoic face flashed a grin at Fleur- a look which Fleur gave in return. The second pair looked their way, as well; but not towards Fleur. No. The aurora witch gave a wink towards Harry, of all people, flicking back her wild hair and a fluorite earring, and casually called out, “See you inside, Houdini!” before passing through the doors completely.

The words jarred him at once with comprehension. MELODY?!

“HAHAHA! You should have seen Wystan’s face!” Amy cackled. “He was gaping like a stunned troll!” She raised her hand, getting a high-five from a preening Rusalka. “This- was- genius!”

“Thank you, thank you,” Melissa said teasingly.

Lev rolled his eyes with a smile. “Sooo humble.”

“I am the epitome of humility!” she cried, hand to her heart.

Garrick gave a lazy smirk towards Astrid, “Says the girl who’s dressed like a peacock made love with a firefox.”

Astrid burst into giggles. “Herregud! En tulikettu, that’s exactly what she looks like!”

“Yeah, but you love it,” Melissa purred. She glanced across the room, catching a glare from across the room. “Ooo, Wystan’s staring!”

Rusalka reacted at once, leaning closer to her date, Yaroslav, to speak softly and affectionately in words Melissa couldn’t catch. Glancing back at the other table, she found Jacinth practically red with fury. Ha! Eat that, sucker!

The moment ended as the procession was announced. They all applauded as the Champions walked in. Melissa grinned and whistled as the group walked passed towards the head table. Soon after, everyone settled down and took a look at their menus.

“Ehh,” a quiet voice from Rurik’s date, Ornella, spoke up, “how do we choose our dinner?”

“I zink ve must tell ze elves,” Rurik answered. He then put down his menu and looked expectantly. “I vill have goulash.”

And, like that, a plate of goulash appeared.

The others all made their orders, and soon everyone was tucking in to their meals. Conversations were fun and lighthearted, and in no time at all the dinner seemed to fly to the finish. When all plates cleared, the Headmaster had everyone stand so that he could move the tables aside and summon a platform for the band.

“Vot?!” Lev gasped as the band entered the room. “Is zat ze Veerd Sisters?!”

“Yep!” Melissa said with a grin.

“What?” Then Amy gasped, “Oh- my- god! Merton’s here! We should say hi!”

Melissa broke into laughter, “Maybe after the dance.”

The three couples of Champions took to the centre of the dance floor. When the applause died down, the Weird Sisters started to play a slow, gentle waltz, and the Champions thus opened the dance.

“Moye polyarnoye siyaniye,” Lev held out an open palm towards her. “You vish to dance?”

She beamed with a smile, “Gladly.” She took his hand, and walked with him onto the dance floor. Others came to fill the dance floor, though Melissa kept her attention to Lev as they waltzed. “You’re a good dancer.”

“Zank you. I must dance best to impress beautiful vitch.”

Melissa broke down into giggles, “I’m beautiful, am I?”

He almost seemed offended by the question. “Vot? Look at you!” He gave her a twirl, releasing another set of giggles from her, before taking both of her hands again. “You are magic! Glorious! Vot fool vood see you and say different?”

“I was called a peacock not too long ago,” she deflected.

“Friends do vot friends must for fun,” he said dismissively. “But, here, I am a lucky vizard.”

Lucky, eh? “And what does that make me?”

“You… also lucky,” he said with a teasing shrug, “but handsome instead of beautiful.”

“Oh!” Melissa laughed, then did a callback of, “Sooo humble!”

“Yes. Is vy ve’re perfect.”

“For each other, or perfect because we’re both so humble?”

“Both, and also being good-looking.”

“Oh, of course, how could I forget!”

The two laughed as the dance continued. They stayed arm-in-arm into the next two songs as well. After the third they took a drink break. The act seemed to open hidden floodgates, as several witches soon flocked to Melissa, admiring her style and asking after her methods. She gave away her secrets easily enough. After all, it did come with a discount. Once the flock dispersed, Lev returned to her side with a laugh.

“Zey see you like motyl'ki fly to fire.”

“Well, what can I say, I’m very luminescent today,” she flicked her hair for emphasis, admiring the aurora’s movement along the hem of her sleeve.

“Yes,” he said, looking somewhat confused. Looking back at the dance crowd, he gave a nod in their direction, “Can you introduce me to ze Veerd Sisters?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, counting out the songs played so far, “but first…”

“First?”

“You should see who else wants to meet them. I’ll head back and let them know to meet up.”

“Okay! Sounds good!” Lev walked off to find his friends, while Melissa moved to the dancefloor.

Twenty seconds left…

The song moved to its final bars.

Ten…

The last chord played a long note.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One!

“Alright, you cats and kittens,” Myron spoke playfully into the mic, “here’s a little something new for these magical halls. Though for some of you,” he gave a deep chuckle, “well, if you know, you know. Take it away, boys!”

Music began to play, and parts of the crowd bopped to the beat that the instruments started to play. The rest, however, stood absolutely still, with their heads bowed down and arms at their side with splayed fingers. There were enough people in that strange pose, and standing close enough to the centre of the crowd, that others started to still, too. This oddness jarred them, just long enough for the sidelines to catch it, until-

“~EVERYBODY ~DANCE ~NOW!”

The bowed heads suddenly snapped up and moved in unison! Hands and arms moved in stiff precision, and parts of the dance crowd backed away to avoid getting hit by their movements.

“~EVERYBODY ~DANCE ~NOW!”

The group burst into footwork, jumping, stepping, and turning in place. 

“~GIVE ME THE MUSIC!”

“~GIVE ME THE MUSIC!”

“~EVERYBODY ~DANCE ~NOW!”

By this point, everyone not involved in the dance had backed off to the sidelines, and all watched on in confusion or awe as the dance continued. The moves were entirely foreign for the audience, as was the song, since it barely had any lyrics at all, aside from, well…

“~YEAH!”

“~YEAH!”

“~YEAH!”

“~EVERYBODY- U CAN’T TOUCH THIS!”

Suddenly the music shifted, with the dancers flowing right along with it! They were jumping more animatedly now, moving side to side and doing fun-looking turns on their heels.

“~Give me a song or rhythm

Making them sweat, that's what I'm giving them

Now, they know

You talk about the Hammer

When you're talkin 'bout a show

That's hyped and tight

Singers are sweatin'

So pass them a wipe or a tape

To learn

What it's gonna take in the 90's to burn

The chart's legit

Either work hard or you might as well quit

That's word, because, you know

You can't touch this

You can't touch this

Break it down!”

The whole group fluttered, as if floating, from one side to another; each side punctuated by spinning jumps. The dance getting wilder and wilder until- 

“Stop, Macarena time!”

-and the music shifted again. This time there was no jumping, no fluttering, no spinning. Instead, they all stayed where they stood, instead moving entirely by their arms and swaying hips. The band also changed beyond music, with the vocalists changing the very language from their lips!

“~Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena

Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena

Eh, Macarena, ¡Ay!

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena

Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena

Eh, Macarena, ¡Ay!

Macarena tiene un novio que se llama

Que se llama de apellido Vitorino

Y en la jura de bandera el muchacho

Se la vio con dos amigos!

Macarena tiene un novio que se llama

Que se llama de apellido Vitorino

Y en la jura de bandera el muchacho

Se la vio con dos amigos!

Now you know how to dance the Macarena

Your moves so sharp and cool just like Rowena

Now it’s time to clear the dance arena

Eh, Macarena, ¡Ay!

The dance troupe finished with a wide clap above their heads, signalling the end of the song. It took only a heartbeat before the crowd started to applaud and cheer. Those within the troupe waved to the crowd or hugged each other in relief (or secretly took long catch-up breaths). Then, soon after, the sidelines and troupe merged quickly in celebration.

From above, on the stage, Myron waited a few moments before calling loudly, “Now who wants to hear our latest song?!”

Cheers roared from the crowd, and soon everyone was dancing to a whole new tune.

The lights dimmed for the end of the night, and Melissa took the opportunity to approach the stage. Once there, she wrapped Merton into a hug, “You guys were brilliant!”

“You all were brilliant!” Merton claimed back.

Gideon chimed in, “Never seen anything like it! Seeing you all from up here, we can tell the group worked really hard.”

“We did,” she agreed. “It was so worth it, though! Oh, I want to introduce you all to someone!” She beckoned Lev over, who had been standing at the edge of the stage until now. She hooked her arm into his and gestured to the group, “Everyone, this is Lev! He’s from Durmstrang.”

“Hi, Lev,” they echoed back, all except for Kirley who gave a devious grin and said, “Lev, Eh? Is he your boyfriend?”

A few more wicked smirks flashed her way, and Melissa bloomed into a blush. “Um-” 

She looked up at Lev. The boy in question was also smiling. He leaned into her ear and purred, “I can be, if you vant.”

Somehow her blush managed to darken, and she swallowed hard as wild feelings bloomed. Squeezing his arm tighter, she giggled with embarrassment and took the plunge, “Yes. He is.”

She felt a kiss at the top of her head, and the Weird Sisters cooed and whistled as they gave their congratulations.

“Congratulations, Giggles!” Herman ruffled her hair playfully, then gave her the nudge. “So, when’s the wedding?”

She went crimson and shoved him back. “Oh my GOD, Herman!”

The group laughed loudly, and Heathcote teased back, “At least wait until Donny and Tori get hitched, first.”

“What?!” Melissa’s head snapped up, locking in on a sheepish looking Donaghan. “The hell do you mean, Donny and Tori? Since when are you two dating?!”

“Well…”

“Uh-oh,” Kirley laughed, “hasn’t Tori told you?”

“NO!”

Donaghan raised up his palms, “We’ve only been dating for a few months!”

Heathcote looked at her strangely, “What’s the big deal?”

“She’s my friend! We’re practically the same age!”

“What?” Donaghan blinked. “What do you mean? She just turned nineteen this month.”

“I…” The maths started to catch up with her. They were always in school at around the same time. Then again, she did finish her A-Levels this year, so- “Oh, fuck, you’re right.”

The boys chuckled at the awkward stumble. 

“I think you’ve been cooped up here for too long,” Merton teased. “You should’ve graduated along with me.”

Melissa laughed, though Lev replied, “I zink it’s a good zing she has not. I vood not have met her, ozzervise.”

“D’aww!” Herman cooed at them.

Melissa curled into his arm with a blush. “If I die from blushing, it’s your fault.”

“Eh,” he dismissed playfully, “it vill be vell deserved!”

They spun playfully in their dance down the dungeon hallway, laughing all the while.

She rolled into the wall near the secret entrance, grinning up at him. “This is my stop.”

“Ah, too bad.” He leaned against the wall beside her. “So, Girlfriend-” the world played along his tongue, “vill I see you before you take ze train tomorrow?”

She gave a definitive nod. “You know it, Boyfriend.” She, too, was testing the sound, finding her stomach fluttering at the words.

“Good.” He then leaned down until he was hovering just above her.

There were no thoughts, no inner pressures, and his unspoken gesture reeled her own body forward, with their lips meeting in the middle. It was a sweet, gentle act. It lasted for only a moment; yet her heart thrilled within that moment. When they broke apart, her eyes fluttered, and a shiver of delight ran up her body.

They both giggled nervously, grinning sheepishly all the while. From afar, voices carried with approaching Slytherin party-goers. Their presence brought the pair back to their surroundings.

“I should go,” Lev said, though he took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You have a good night, Melissa.”

“You too, Lev,” she returned his squeeze, “and thank you for tonight.”

“You’re velcome,” he gave her hand a kiss, inviting another blush on her face, then he departed for his ship.

She waited in that hall until Lev went around the corner. Afterwards she headed further down, giving the password to the secret entrance, passing through the common room, and made it to her dorm.

The second she closed the bedroom door behind her, Melissa slid against the door, dissolving into giddy giggles. I just had my first kiss! It should have been strange. Her mind, in her old life, she had long had firsts of all kinds. Yet, somehow, none of that seemed to matter anymore. That was all… why, that wasn’t even her! THIS is her! And everything’s so new and delightful and she just had her first kiss! GAH!

A snicker came from across the room, and all her giggles ceased. Melissa looked up from the floor, finding Rusalka staring at her from her own bed. A slow smirk was widening as she caught Melissa’s expression; and Melissa was instantly mortified.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Rusalka snickered again. “I didn’t say anything.” A brief pause fell before she started up again. “So… how was your night?”

Melissa said nothing.

“Did you two kiss?”

“...I have to use the loo.” She bolted to the loo door.

“Why? Was it so good that now you need to-?”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

She slammed the door behind her, hearing Rusalka cackling and calling out teases all the while.

PHOTO TIME! (I'll be real, I just coloured in existing online photos via Paint because I have negligible digital art skills)   

Chapter Text

Thursday December 22nd, 1994

Scandalous Romance at the Ball! -by Rita Skeeter

“Oh, that is embarrassing!” Amy tried to hide her laugh behind a hand, but it wasn’t enough to keep it at bay.

“Cedric has bad luck,” Domonkos said with a mirthful smile. “Bad enough to get caught by Professor Snape, but to have word reach Skeeter, too? That’s awful.”

“Okay, but, to be fair,” Adrian cut in, “he was caught getting on second base with Delacour.”

Domonkos paused to think that over. Then he gave a single nod, “True.”

Amy’s eyes went wide. “Oooo! Look, she mentioned Ru and Mel in here!”

“Really?” Melissa asked. “In the same article?”

“Not exactly. She just mentions a few ‘best dressed’ people and brings up your magical styles.”

Rusalka gave a pleased smile. “Maybe we’ll get interviews from Witch Weekly?”

“I’d sooner expect Lockhart to swoop in before they get the chance,” Melissa said dully.

“Speaking of your hair,” said Domonkos, looking between the two of them, “how long does it last? I thought by this morning it would be gone.”

The girls looked at each other in reflex before Melissa answered. “It’s a potion, not a charm. We need a couple neutralising potions to undo the effects, but we can also just grow our hair out.”

“I may do that,” Rusalka commented. “I’ll see how my natural colour works with it. If I don’t like it, then I’ll potion it out.”

“I think I’ll keep it for the holidays,” Melissa added. “I might even change it up before I get back.”

“That sounds fun,” Amy said. “Hmm… I could do with a new look, too.”

“We’ll do a fashion show when we get back,” Melissa suggested playfully.

“Oo, I’ll join, too!” said Jacqueline.

They continued on that thread for a while. It only stopped as Amy suddenly shouted “WHAT?” over something in the Prophet. “Holy- look at this! It says here that Hagrid’s a half-giant!”

“Really?” the others asked. Only Melissa continued with that exclamation with, “Did people not know that?” They all looked at her, askance, and she went on the offensive, “What? The man is enormous! We’re at a school where one professor is a ghost, and another is half-goblin. I figured it was obvious that Hagrid’s so tall because he’s half-something super tall like a giant.”

“Yes, but goblins, at least, are somewhat civilised,” said Garrick. “It’s an entirely different thing having a half-giant as a professor.”

“O-kay… but the man’s been at the school for decades and is known for being very friendly and cheerful. Clearly he’s more human in personality than giant, right?”

“I suppose you have a point,” said Adrian. “Does the article say anything else about it?”

Everyone moved back to their copies of the Daily Prophet. Melissa wasn’t interested in Hagrid’s exposé, though. So, instead, she read on to other pages and articles. There were articles about politics, christmas events, a missing witch, business sales, international news-

Guyanese Muggle Caught with British Galleons!

Curious, Melissa read through the article. Seems that a muggleborn man on vacation in Guyana came upon a merchant selling the familiar gold coins. He reported the merchant to Guyanese aurors, who took action immediately. That said… it seems that the merchant was wise to the muggleborn’s suspicions, and had closed up shop before aurors could question him. 

The story was… unsettling. It could be a coincidence. That said… best to double check things with her aunt and Mal, just to be safe.

“I just realized,” Jacqueline said slowly as the girls made their way to the entrance hall, “has anyone seen Wystan this morning?”

“Nope,” said Amy.

“Good,” huffed Rusalka.

“He’s too busy sulking over last night,” Melissa answered.

“I can’t blame him,” Jacqueline said with a sly smirk, “after all, his own date was secretly involved in your muggle dance prank. Garrick told me that, before the dance, he had been insulting his date for having a muggle father, but then to see her dance to muggle music! And after seeing Rusalka in all her Bombshell glory, I heard he was furious and left the party early!”

“Ha! That’s what he deserves!” said Amy.

“And, honestly, what self-respecting sixth year brings a third year as a date?”

“You’re implying that he’s self-respecting,” Rusalka pointed out.

“Ah, touché,” Melissa conceded. “Plus, it’s not like any girl our age was willing to stoop to being his date. Not after what he said,” she said darkly. “I think Alger must have picked up on it and approached him knowing there’s no way he’d find someone else.”

“I almost feel sorry for her,” said Jacqueline, “then again, even she managed to humiliate him in the process.”

“You’re right,” Rusalka then smirked, “I think I’ll buy her a Christmas present, as a Thank You.”

The girls continued laughing as they got to the entrance hall. There, they were intercepted by a certain brown-haired Russian lad.

“Good morning Melissa, ladies.”

“Good morning, Lev,” “-Mel’s boyfriend,” they said in unison.

Melissa flashed a dark look at Rusalka and Amy, who immediately started to snicker. Melissa rolled her eyes, “Ignore them.”

“Bully that,” said Amy. “Congratulations, Lev. You two make a cute couple.”

“Zank you, Amy.” He turned his attention back to Melissa, “It vill be ten days before ve see each ozzer again. Vant to write to each ozzer vile you are gone?”

“That’s a good idea,” Melissa said with a nod, “I’ll even write to you tonight once I’m home.”

“Perfect.” He stepped forward, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I look forward to your letter.”

“And I look forward to seeing you in the New Year,” Melissa said happily. Moving on her toes, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Have a good holiday, Lev.”

“You, too, Melissa.”

She and the other girls went over the carriages. She gave one last wave at Lev as the carriage door closed. After that, the teasing started.

“I can’t wait to see you, Lev, ” Amy said in a dreamy tone.

“I’ll even write to you tonight!” Jacqueline added.

“Sod off, you lot!” Melissa stuck her tongue out at them, much to their continued laughter.

“Now, now,” Rusalka purred, “we’re just surprised. After all, you did say you’d never have a boyfriend.”

“That’s- that’s not what I meant,” she protested. She averted her eyes from them, “Besides, this is different.”

“You mean he’s different?”

“No- yes- maybe?” she strained between the words. “I mean-” thoughts and feelings from last night started flooding in, “look, I know what I said last year, but I’m older now; and Lev and I, we have a lot in common, and he’s-”

“Older,” Jacqueline supplied.

“Yes, that, too.” It helped her old concerns, yes, yet a reminder of that’s not me anymore echoed in her head. “It’s just- now, and with him, it feels right, alright?”

“It’s fine, Melissa,” said Jacqueline, “we’re just teasing you; but we’re also really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Jacqueline.” Kind words aside, she wanted to move on from the topic. “So how was your own date at the ball? Did things go well?”

“We had a good time,” Jacqueline answered. “I mainly just danced and hung out with Lucy, Ken and their friends.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” Amy asked.

“No, he was a perfect gentleman,” Jacqueline said smoothly. “How about yourself?”

“Yes, Amy,” Rusalka said darkly, “How about yourself?”

Her silence was telling.

“Amy-”

“He was also a perfect gentleman-”

“That’s bull-shit, Amy, and you know it!”

Friday December 23rd, 1994

As they weaved through the traffic of Magicals walking through Diagon Alley, Mary was silently enjoying her daughter’s frantic ramblings. “-I can get him something from the music shop, but is that too obvious? His family already makes instruments for a living. What if I get him something he already has? I suppose boys like quidditch stuff -wait, does he like quidditch? Shit! I’ve never asked him! Maybe a book? Ugh, but he already struggles with English textbooks as it is-”

“Sweetheart, you’re panicking.”

“I know! But- ugh! Why am I even being like this?!” she ranted. “A week ago I wouldn’t’ve even cared about what gifts to buy him, but now-”

“But now he’s your boyfriend, and not just your friend, so you want to do things ‘right’.”

“Exactly! You get it!” Melissa waved frantically around the Alley. “I know what I said before, but can you help me? Please?”

Mary giggled, enjoying her daughter’s reactions, but basking in the (relief) normalcy of her teenaged panic. “Of course, Sweetheart. Well, there is always the adage of ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’. Perhaps get him some British treats he’s never had before?”

Melissa pouted, “I don’t know… but, I suppose Sugarplum’s is as good a place as any to start.”

“Perfect, let’s head there. Hmm, there’s a joke shop next to it, if I recall. We can try there next.”

Her daughter brightened at once. “Good idea, Mum!”

She took Melissa by the arm, not feeling wholly comfortable with the way people were looking at her daughter, and walked over to the shop. (Perhaps they were only surprised by her wildly colourful hair, but Mary wasn’t willing to take their chances.) Together they perused the shelves of Sugarplum’s; asking after British-only treats (using a ‘lack of international travel’ to disguise her non-magical ignorance) to ensure they find something ‘just right’ for her daughter’s boyfriend. They ended up finding multiple treats for some of her international friends; which resulted in Melissa changing her mind and insisting on a joke shop gift for Lev so that his gift stands out from the others getting their gifts at Hogwarts.

Once the gifts were acquired, they went to Gringotts to refill Melissa’s purse. She insisted on doing a pickup from her vault, which resulted in going through the wild rollercoaster that is the goblin mine carts.

They walked into Melissa’s vault, and Mary couldn’t help but eye the various books, do-dads, and piles of gold with a certain level of apprehension. “Darling, do I even want to know when and how you got all of these things?”

“Umm…” she clicked both of her hands into finger guns and answered, “you have a very enterprising young daughter.”

Mary gave a long sigh. “Please tell me none of this is stolen.”

“Mum, I can assure you, in all honesty, that everything here is either bought, gifted, or found.”

She blinked slowly. “Define ‘found’.”

“As in… lost and found. If it doesn’t belong to anyone, then anyone can take it, right?”

Sometimes, I swear, she’s more like John and Sophie’s than my own daughter. Then again, Jeff and Maggie aren’t nearly as wheedling-inclined. “If anyone comes to claim back something they’ve lost, you’re to return it immediately, understood?”

“Yes, Mum.” Melissa continued going through the items until, “Ah, there it is!” and she pulled a golden flute off of a shelf.

This one, at least, Mary had no reason to fret over. She knew for a fact that Harry had gifted her that flute for her fourteenth birthday. Not that her daughter ever attempted to play it. “Isn’t that flute too valuable to take from the vault? You’re not selling it, are you?”

“No,” Melissa shook her head. “Actually, I’m planning to try some magic with it. You remember what I told you about music magic, right? I think using a pure gold flute, like this, has the potential to do some pretty awesome magic once I put it through the right process!”

Well THAT’S a relief, “I hope it does. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you try it out.”

Saturday December 24th, 1994

“Alright, little miss, time to shuffle those cards,” Melissa waved dramatically as Maggie took hold of the tarot deck. “I want you to feel it, let it reach into you! Pull at your hopes and fears, your desires and needs. …Now, pick three, and let us see how your past and present will shape your FUTURE!”

Maggie and Jeff laughed at the showmanship of Melissa’s fortune-telling. Maggie, herself, made a showing of ‘feeling out’ three cards for the reading. Once it was done, Melissa flipped over a reversed Page of Swords, a reversed three of swords, and the eight of cups.

“Oh…” Melissa blinked heavily at the cards. “Have people been bullying you? Because I’m not afraid to beat down a nine year old.”

“WHAT?!” Maggie jumped back in alarm, which soon twined with shame and nervous defiance. “Uh- no I haven’t!”

“Are you sure? ” Melissa asked. “Because these cards are telling a hell of a story.”

“The cards are lying, obviously!”

“Mhmm…” Melissa turned her eyes up to give Jeff a questioning look.

He acquiesced easily enough, “Her ‘best friend’ left their group for some tart named Vanessa Carmichael.”

“JEFFREY!”

“What? You’ve already whined to Mum about it, so it’s not like it’s a secret.”

“You awful, pig-headed-”

“Hey, hey now!” Melissa called out. “No need to get feisty, the cards just fed on the energy you gave it. It sensed a problem, and it’s offering you a solution.”

“You mean,” Maggie gave a teary sniff, “there’s a way to get Dacey back?”

“Uhh-” her voice croaked, “no. In fact, the eight of cups is telling you to cut her out of your life completely. Move on to better things, better people to be specific. If Dacey wants to hang out with a- …bad person, that probably means she secretly wants to be like this Vanessa girl. And, think about it, would you want someone like Vanessa Carmichael in your life?”

“NO, she’s awful!”

“Exactly. So forget about Dacey and focus on making real friends with good people. Your life will be much happier that way.”

Maggie fully pouted at the cards, as if blaming them for her troubles. “Whatever. This is stupid.”

“Seems pretty spot on to me,” said Jeff.

“Oh, yeah? How about you try it then?” she sneered.

“Yeah, fine.” Jeff then gave a chuckle. “My life’s way more awesome than yours!”

“Prat!”

Melissa gathered up the cards again, shuffling them a bit to disperse the ‘energies’ of the previous user. She then passed them over to Jeff for him to shuffle again and find his cards. Once he was ready, she flipped his three over: the Queen of Cups, the Four of Wands, and the Seven of Pentacles (reversed).

A snort immediately filled her nostrils, “Looks like someone here fancies a lady who is ~much older than youuuuu!”

Jeff turned blazing red.

Maggie started cackling!

Jeff, sputtering, could barely make a coherent word. It was obvious that the reading was genuine; and Melissa wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, or re-consider her faux-seer status and crown herself a fucking GOD of tarot divination!

With Jeff tongue-tied and scarlet, Maggie jumped in with vengeful glee, “What else does it say?”

“Ha! Well, according to this, little Jeffie here is dreaming of living happily ever after with… Mrs Robinson, Stacy’s Mom, however you’d like to call here. But, fact is, you are twelve,” she said pointedly, “and she is a grown woman. Clearly that is never going to work out and never should work out in the first place. So, do yourself a favour, and don’t start buying her presents-”

A look on his face betrayed him.

“-or should I say stop buying her presents,” he flinched as she hit the nail on the head, “because you’re wasting away your money for a woman you shouldn’t be going after in the first place.”

“Children!” Aunt Sophie called, poking her head into the den. “Hmm, what are you three up to?”

“Giving your children some much-needed life advice,” she said plainly.

Sophie gave them a small chuckle. “Anything I should know about?”

Both of her cousins gave Melissa an alarmed look, yet Melissa couldn’t help but answer, “Your son wants to live like The Graduate’s Mr Gladstone.”

The children were naturally confused by the analogy. Sophie, however, darkened in her expression. “...I see.” Her face changed to a neutral expression. “Anyways, I came to tell you all that dinner is ready. You’d best wash up and head to the table now.”

“Yes, Mum!” her cousins cried, scrambling to leave the area entirely. 

This left the older women alone in the den. “What did you tell him?”

“That he’s twelve and shouldn’t pursue older women.”

She pinched her eyes closed and let out a breath. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around?”

“I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.” She gathered up her cards, only for Sophie to stop her and ask after the deck.

“No harm in a little good advice, right?”

Melissa gave a scoffing chuckle, “Pretty sure your kids disagree. I doubt they’ll ever ask me for a reading again.”

“They’re young,” she said simply. “They’ll learn with time.”

“Mmm, if you say so. Here,” she handed over the cards and guided her aunt through the process. With Sophie emphasizing the need for advice, she opted for a five card spread and laid them out in a line. Eyeing the question card, a reversed Ten of Wands, she asked, “This advice, you want to skive off or push your responsibilities on someone else?”

Sophie was silent for a moment. “We’ve had a few snags with our… international partners.”

With Mal, she realized. Memories of an article she’d read the other day stirred in her mind.

“Interested, but unwanted parties want to put a stop to things,” Sophie explained further.

“And you’re mad at… certain business partners for allowing this to happen.” Reverse Two of Cups seems to say so. Plus the Fool… “and somewhat mad at yourself for putting so much trust in this person.”

“Obviously.”

“Fair.” Fuck! I was right! Hopefully this is nothing we can’t get out of. Let’s see… She stared at the Hierophant and reversed Page of Swords for a while, finding it not fitting with the usual interpretations of the spread; and, instead, feeling a dawning sensation of dread. “This… this can’t be right.”

“What is it?”

“If I’m interpreting this right… it’s saying to let them take the fall.”

“...What?”

“If things go south, play ignorant and let others take the fall,” she said again. Melissa gave a shudder. “Hold on, let me see my own stake in this-”

She shuffled and dealt the cards again. The Page of Pentacles and Seven of Swords had a different, selfish, interpretation of the question. “Do I give up this easy and sneaky way to make money?” The Knight of Swords considers her advice from the first reading as a practical and ‘justified’ solution. Hell, even the Knight of Wands seems to support that idea. For the ‘answer’ card her hand flipped three cards instead of just one: reversed Strength, the Emperor, and the reversed Seven of Pentacles.

“Fuck!” Well, that settles it. “Well, shit, yeah, that is exactly what we have to do. Cut our losses, play dumb, and let the boys in blue or red do the rest.”

Silence fell for heartbeats.

“So, that’s it, then? Everything we’ve done, everything we’ve made, we just stop?”

“Everything. We’ve had five years of luck, and it’s finally run out. Best you and your partner erase all traces of our involvement and save ourselves while we can. I, for one, don’t plan on taking another step into Azkaban again. Trust me, you don’t want to experience that hell, either.”

A heavy silence fell over them as the double reading weighed down on them. Only the distant call of “DINNER” was able to stir them.

“Despite everything,” Sophie said slowly, “thank you. For the warning, and for everything you’ve done over the years.”

“And thank you for listening. I know this isn’t an easy decision, but…”

“We do what we can to survive,” Sophie said, completing the thought. She then took Melissa’s hand earnestly. “...Once we walk out these doors, we will never speak of this again.”

“Never,” she promised. 

The two women left the den, leaving their secret and their source of wealth behind forever.

Sunday December 25th, 1994

On Christmas morning, the children eagerly raced down to open their presents. Melissa, especially, had to move fast to get hers open (before her grandparents arrived for breakfast). She went through her wizarding gifts, first, just to be safe. There were sweets, clothes, and fun trinkets from her friends. Lev had gotten her a bracelet (earning a teasing whistle and compliment from her parents). Harry had straight-up gifted her gems. Like, actual gems. Dark rubies and emeralds, black tourmaline, plus some others she hadn’t tested (though they were on her recommendation list to Harry, so she shouldn’t be surprised.)

“Wow!” her father gaped at the jewel box, “I think Harry’s trying to compete with your boyfriend!”

I think Harry is trying not to kill me.

“I mean, if he offers a diamond, I might consider it,” she joked. 

That got people laughing, as intended. She moved the jewel box, keeping it snug at her side, and went for the next gift. Beneath the wrapping was an ornate box with two letters on top. The first had a wax seal featuring a large M and crossed wands, while the second had the dog and stars of House Black. She opened the latter first, and was semi-surprised to find a rather generic ‘well-wishing and hope you appreciate your gift’ message from Lord Arcturus Black. The second, to Melissa’s deep confusion, was an invitation by Narciss Malfoy to her home.

In what universe…?

Putting it aside for now, Melissa opened the gift, finding some solace that it was clearly sent by both parties. She looked inside the box, not saying anything, but looking wryly entertained.

Curious by her silence, Maggie peered over her shoulder. “What’s that supposed to be?”

Not answering just yet, Melissa reached inside and lifted the object up by its pillowy platform. Beyond hidden laughter, Melissa managed to muster the words, “They got me a crystal ball.”

“Oo, how lovely!” Mary exclaimed.

“Who got you that?” Jake asked.

“Believe it or not, Sirius’s grandfather and his cousin, Narcissa.”

“Narcissa?” Jake looked around, as if for confirmation. “That’s Andromeda’s sister, right? The one whose husband went to prison because of your trial?”

“The very same,” she confirmed. Her expression remained unchanged. “I’m not sure whether to be confused or flattered by them sending me a gift. Oh, Narcissa’s also invited me to her home on Wednesday, if that’s alright.”

The adults all exchanged questioning looks. “That’s probably fine…” Mary said slowly.

“She shouldn’t go alone, though,” cautioned John. “We should go with her, just to be safe.”

“Why all of us?” Jake asked. “I mean, Mary and I, sure; but wouldn’t it make more sense to ask Sirius to chaperone?”

“True,” said John slowly, “but there is safety in numbers, so it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I think you’re both over-reacting,” Mary said with a head shake. “According to Sirius, she’s been over the moon raising the new baby. I hardly doubt she’d invite Melissa over just to do something to hurt her.”

“She has a point,” Melissa said, failing to mention that meeting the baby was part of Narcissa’s invitation, “but I’ll still ask Sirius about it, too. I’m sure he’ll be fine to come with.”

That compromise settled, the group moved on from the topic to enjoy the rest of their Christmas.

Chapter Text

Monday December 26th, 1994

Harry and Chiara got off the bus where Upper Richmond met Sheen Lane. From there, they made a slow walk through the area. Dudley had told Harry to meet him at a cafe here, though he never said which cafe, making things a touch difficult for the pair to navigate the space. Finally, under one building sporting an old carving of 1923 BROADWAY BUILDINGS they found Dudley waving shyly at them, with Aunt Petunia standing at his side.

Under the guise of keeping her upright, Chiara gave Harry’s hand a supportive squeeze. He gave a squeeze back, a small but strained smile was on his face as they approached the other pair. “Hi, Dudley. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Harry.”

Harry gave a nod, then gave Aunt Petunia a once-over. Her skin looked more healthy than the last time he saw her. Even her hair looked somewhat improved, despite its many white streaks. Her eyes, however, held the most difference. Instead of vacant, she was looking at Harry intently, under a gaze of confused curiosity. “Happy Christmas, Aunt Petunia.”

She continued to stare at him, puzzling him out. Then, something flashed behind her eyes. “Harry. You’re Lily’s boy. Lily’s… she’s dead.”

The statements were jarring. Though Dudley managed to handle it well, “That’s right, Mum. It was really sad when it happened. Nowadays, Harry’s living with his godfather.” He then gave a nod to Chiara. “You must be Chi-ara, right?

“Chiara,” Chiara corrected, pronouncing the Italian ‘ki’ for ‘chi’. “And you must be Dudley. It is nice to meet you.” The two shook hands, while her left hand remained securely in Harry’s.

The small group made their way into the neighbouring cafe. Dudley bought hot chocolates for everyone, to Harry’s bewilderment, and soon everyone settled into a warm spot within the cafe.

“You’re having… a baby soon,” Petunia said to Chiara, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is it… a boy or a girl?”

“Both, according to the doctor,” Chiara answered warmly. “Though hopefully not soon. The twins are due in the middle of April.”

“Twins,” Petunia said softly. Her eyes went distant. “I always wanted… a second baby… I never did... A little girl… with Diddykens... That would have… been wonderful…”

Harry stared into his lap, as words muddled beyond his hearing. A second baby… she always wanted a second baby? And yet… I was… Why couldn’t that have been me? I wanted… I wanted her to love me… Prayed for it, even, when I was little. …Why wasn’t I good enough?!

A hand squeezed his shoulder, bringing him back to the present.

“-he’s been so attentive since coming back from school. Always making sure I have everything I need. I hope the little ones grow up to be just like Harry.”

Chiara was… talking about him?

“Not like your husband?” Dudley asked, looking somewhat amused by the statement.

“Sirius is wonderful, yes. So fun and clever; but, between them, Harry is much more mature and hardworking, and so kind, too. I know Siri and I will spoil the twins rotten, but I don’t want them to be too spoiled. Harry will be a good influence on them, I’m sure. The perfect big brother.”

Pinpricks of tears came to his eyes. This was… he wasn’t sure where all of these emotions were coming from. He simultaneously wanted to flee the cafe and wrap Chiara in a bear hug. He felt so lost, yet suddenly warm. He blinked hard, wanting to get a handle on his tears and emotions; though it was a losing battle on both fronts.

“Yeah, he’s a good bloke,” said Dudley. Somehow that made Harry’s emotional turbulence worse. “I’d like to meet the babies this summer, if that’s alright? I’m planning on taking Mum out a lot this summer whenever the weather’s good.”

“That would be nice. We can meet in a park, to enjoy the sunshine.”

Chatter continued between Dudley and Chiara, with Harry giving the occasional remark and Petunia barely speaking (and even then only when lucid enough to say something about Harry or his mother). Dudley handled it to the best of his ability. As for Harry, more often than not, he found himself leaning into Chiara, taking in the comfort of her praises. The way she spoke, so much like how his aunt always talked about Dudley… Is this what it’s like to have a mum? He wasn’t fully sure, but he found himself holding onto it like a buoy in a sea of turbulent emotions.

Finally, after nearly an hour of hot chocolate and conversation, the two pairs departed the cafe with promises of a summer visit. That said, the second he and Chiara got onto a bus, the woman made a loud scoff, “Your cousin is a good boy, but his mother is a horrible bitch.”

And there’s the Chiara he knows. “He’s definitely changed a lot.”

“From what you’ve told me, I can see that. Still, are you okay? If that’s what she’s like as a zombie, I can only imagine how she used to talk to you.”

Harry squirmed a little in his seat. “I can’t say I’m feeling great, but… I really appreciate all those things you said.”

“Harry,” she spoke in a meaningful tone, “I was only saying true things about you.”

Good feelings bloomed in his chest. “I just appreciate it, that's all.”

She stared at him for a long moment. He squirmed again as she studied him. After enough silence had passed, she gave a small smirk, asserting “Hmph, we will work on your confidence.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of the strange statement. Still, he found himself enjoying this time with Chiara and their talks for the rest of the ride home.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Thames…

“So…” Melissa side-eyed her muggle friend as they walked along Bishops Park, “you and Donaghan, eh?”

Victoria gave a small giggle, “Yes, we’ve been dating since just before I started uni.”

“Mhmm…” she took a sip of hot chocolate, “and your parents have no problems with that?”

She gave a laughing huff, saying haughtily, “I don’t need to tell them every part of my life.”

Hearing this from Victoria, of all people, Melissa was incredulous. “You don’t care what your parents think?”

“The real question is, why do you care so much about what my parents think?” she asked.

“Well excuse me, Your Majesty, for thinking that you’d care about what your wannabe posh family has to say about you dating a rock star.”

“You know what they’d say about it,” Victoria countered, “so why bother worrying them, at all?”

This might be the adult voice in me, but, “What if things between you get serious?”

Victoria’s smile grew sly, “Then they’ll just have to accept things as they are, won’t they?”

“Okay…” Her eyes narrowed. “But… you also realize that it’s going to be hard to get into a serious relationship with Donaghan, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, aside from the fact that he tours and you’re at school, it’s not like you two can talk a lot about your lives and childhoods, right? There’s a pretty big barrier with that, you remember?”

“Yes, but only while things aren’t serious. That’ll change, eventually.”

Oh… my god! “You’re planning to get serious on purpose, aren’t you?” 

Victoria turned her head fully towards Melissa, saying nothing, yet her smile said everything.

Melissa shook her head, looking up to the sky. “Wow! Okay. You are actually… I don’t know whether to be upset or impressed. Do you even like him?”

“Of course I do!” Victoria huffed. “I’ve fancied him since we met, I’ll have you know. It’s just, well, now there’s a better incentive for us to date.”

Wow, Tori! “And you’ve been planning this since last year?”

“Mmm, small hints here and there. Obviously I couldn’t try anything big until I finished my A-Levels; but once I graduated it didn’t take much to let him know I fancy him.”

This entire conversation is bewildering. Here Melissa is, spontaneously throwing herself towards romance for the first time ever, meanwhile one of her oldest -and most well-to-do- friends has straight-up orchestrated a relationship for personal gain. …And here Melissa thought she was always the conniving one!

“Gotcha. Uh… so… you’re not planning to get knocked up or anything, right?”

“WHAT?! Of course not! I’m not an idiot!”

“-Never said you were-”

“I’m just making sure he knows how good he’s got it with me.”

Oh god, I don’t even want to know what she means by that. “Fair enough.” She looked about to park for some kind of distraction. “Hey, are you hungry? We should head back to your place and grab something to eat.”

That seemed to do the trick, as the two headed northwards, leaving both the park and conversation behind. That break was short-lived, however, as they found the familiar face of Donaghan Tremlett meandering near Victoria’s home.

He brightened upon seeing them. “Tori! Hey, Giggles, good to see you!”

“Donny!” Victoria skipped up to him, jumping into a hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t believe you’re here! I thought you were with your family today?”

“I was, but my parents have plans for tonight, so I decided to swing by. Your sister said you were on a walk, so I figured I’d surprise you.”

Melissa quirked her brow at this. “Anne knows about you two? I thought this was all a secret?”

Victoria didn’t miss a beat. “Annie knows how to keep a secret.” She then gave Melissa a meaningful look.

“Right, got it. Keep everything a secret,” she promised aloud.

Donaghan, meanwhile, was oblivious to the full scope of her promise. “Oh, it’s actually a good thing I caught you, Giggles. I got a message for you from Dave.”

“From Dave?” she said slowly. “You have a message for me from Dave Chapelle?”

“Yes, and you can stop acting shocked like he’s some giant celebrity.” 

Oh, honey… 

“Anyways, Mert mentioned you plan on going to uni in America, and he says he’s got some friends who’d like to meet you. You know, to talk about ‘future plans’.”

…WHAT?! “You mean… like, for gigs?”

“Pretty much,” Donaghan said with a smile. “He’s even got connections in L.A., if you’re interested.”

“If I’m interested,” her mind broke at the implications, “in L.A. CONNECTIONS?! Are you serious?! Don, do you have ANY idea how big of a deal that is?!”

“That’s amazing!” Victoria said in awe. “Working in L.A. is all you ever talked about when we were young. If you manage to get connections there already-”

“-I’ll have a foot in the door to the industry!”

Both girls screamed in excitement. They got SO excited that they ran into each other for a bear hug.

Donaghan looked at the display with amusement. “So that’s a yes?”

“Holy fuck, yes, that’s a yes!” She then ran into a hug with Donaghan. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted! Thank you!” She let go of him, immediately scrambling for her purse. “I gotta give him my number, or maybe you give me his number? Or his agent? I don’t know, I just- wow! Oh my god, this is happening!”

Laughing at her antics, Donaghan assured her that he’d send her contact information over Dave’s way. She ended up leaving soon after so that the couple could have alone time, practically skipping the whole way home. 

Sure, the offer is for fortune teller gigs, but if she manages to convince some big-wigs to listen to her music, as well- who knows what her future might hold!

Tuesday December 27th, 1994

*Shave and a Hair Cut, *

The door to 12 Grimmauld Place opened slightly, revealing a young house elf Melissa didn’t recognize. “State your name and business, please.”

“Uh, Melissa Bennett, here to visit Sirius Black.”

“Yes, Master bes expecting you,” the house elf opened the door wider, “Welcome to Grimmauld Place.”

“Thanks.” She stepped inside, pausing briefly to stare longingly at the door, then raise her knuckles to the door. *Two Bits!*

Compulsion satisfied, she walked fully inside. She followed the house elf deeper into the brightly lit home until she was led into the drawing room where Sirius was reading a book.

“Master Sirius, Miss Bennet has arrived, Sir.”

“Hmm?” He looked up from the book, a smile on his face. “Hello, Melissa. Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Sirius.”

He gave a quick nod to the house elf, “Koby, please let Harry and Chiara know we have a guest.”

“Yes, Master,” the house elf bowed, then popped away.

Melissa clicked her tongue, remarking, “He’s new.”

“Yeah, I managed to convince the old miser to send me a couple new elves.”

“Really? What happened to Kreacher?”

“Oh, he’s around, for now. He’s teaching Koby how things work at the house, but then he’s going to help out with some other projects.”

Her head tilted in curiosity, “Other projects?”

“Fixing things up for Harry’s properties,” he answered. “I’d rather he stay away from Chiara and the little ones, so it's the best thing I can do outside of giving him clothes.”

“And Koby doesn’t have the same issues as Kreacher?”

“A little, but we’re working on that. Plus, he’s not going to be around them much, either. We bought a new elf, Narba, who’s been trained to look after kids, so things should be fine.”

Melissa gave a hum. “Neat. Glad things are working out for you guys.”

“Thanks.” 

At that moment, death entered the room. “Hey, Melly,” said Harry.

“Hey, Harry. Hello Chiara. Happy belated Christmas!”

“Happy belated Christmas to you, too,” they each said. 

Sirius gestured for everyone to take a seat, “So, what did you want to talk about? Your letter said that it’s time sensitive.”

“Yeah, it is.” Melissa took a breath. “Narcissa wants me to visit Malfoy Manor tomorrow.”

That took both wizards by surprise. “Narcissa? Why?”

Ugh, this is going to be awkward. “Um… Well, before the baby was born, Lord Black hired me to do a name divining for him.”

“What? Really?” Sirius asked in disbelief.

Harry’s eyes brightened in understanding, “At the wedding-! He was asking questions about that family you were helping!” Suddenly he stopped, his eyes going narrow. “Hold on… you said that you need to be with the mother to do the reading right…”

Melissa cringed. “Yeah…”

“Wouldn’t that mean that you-”

“-Did one for Bellatrix Black? Yeah. Exactly.” The admission gave everyone incredulous looks; which was only about to get worse. “...And, as it happens, she apparently asked Narcissa to make sure that I meet Phoenix. At least, that’s what the letter says.”

“...What?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“No, you are,” she said with a strained smile.

He gave a flicker of a smile, before it faded back to bewilderment. “True, but- how? Why?”

“I… think I kind of made a good impression with her.” God, what a weird world she lives in where that’s true. “We bonded over being in Azkaban. I think that impressed her.”

Sirius shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Of course it did. Why am I even surprised?”

“So…” Chiara started, “she wants you to be a role model for Phoenix?”

Everyone stared at her as those words sunk in. “...Huh. Weirdly, yes. I think that’s it.”

A look of amusement passed Harry’s face. “Does she even know that you're a muggleborn?”

“No, but- god damn, that would be hilarious if she found out!” A worry then crossed her mind, “Though, best she doesn’t find out. At least not until Phoenix is all grown up. That’d be a hell of a prank reveal.”

Sirius fell into an open-mouthed grin. “That’s brilliant! HA! Here I thought my own plan to make him a Gryffindor is good; but tricking a Death Eater into having a muggleborn babysitter? That’s genius!”

“Funny you should say that,” Melissa said with a smile, “his reading did suggest he’ll be a gryffindor-esque kid. Sounds like your plan’s going to work.”

“Hahaa!” He gave a fist pump. “Fantastic!”

“Does this mean you’ll go, then?” Chiara asked.

“I… I guess? But I feel weird going alone, or bringing just my parents with me. I was wondering if you could come with me?”

Sirius thought it over for a moment. “I don’t see a problem with that.” Suddenly his face became mischievous, “What about you, Harry? Are you ready for another visit?”

“I’d rather not,” he said flatly.

Melissa looked between the wizards with confusion. “Am I missing something here?”

Sirius answered the question eagerly, “Phoenix screams like a banshee whenever Harry tries to hold him.”

“Really?” She looked over at Harry, “Not good with kids, I take it?”

Harry’s face went red with embarrassment. “I don’t get why. I was holding him just like Narcissa told me to, but he wouldn’t stop crying.” He pouted deeply. “He’s not the only one, either. Hope kept crying, too, whenever I held her at Christmas.”

“Weird. She wasn’t always like that, right? Like last Christmas or over the summer?”

“No, not at all.”

“They’re just babies, Harry,” Sirius said gently. “They get fussy, it’s how they are.”

“True,” Chiara said, “they are new and very sensitive.”

Harry gave a sigh. “I suppose…”

“Hold on,” Melissa said slowly. “This might be a weird question; but, Houdini… could they be crying because of the creep factor?”

“The what?” the adults asked.

Harry, meanwhile, caught onto the meaning. “You mean with me being the Master of Death?”

“Could be.” She nodded, absorbing the obvious that the adults in the room knew about his status. “I mean, think of how much I’ve been affected since the change.”

“Yeah, but Melody, you’re different.”

So they don’t know about me. Good. “True, but it’s like Chiara says, they’re new. Sensitive. Maybe older people just can’t pick up on the aura because they’re more used to things?”

Everyone exchanged concerned and pensive looks. It was certainly a troubling thought.

“It’s possible,” Chiara said slowly. “How can we be sure, though?”

Harry and Melissa exchanged looks before he asked, “We can test it. Like with the project?”

“Not a bad idea,” said Melissa. “I can work on something tonight. You should come tomorrow, and we can see if anything helps.”

Harry mulled it over. “Alright. I’ll go.” He then looked over at the adults, “If it works, we’ll also make something for the twins. I don’t want to hurt them once they’re born.”

“You’d never hurt them, Harry,” Sirius said with concern. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“It’s just a precaution; and it’s only a theory, besides. It’s worth looking into, though, right?”

Sirius let out a long breath. “I suppose.”

“Glad we’re all in agreement, then,” said Melissa. After a few nods, silence fell between the group. An awkward feeling came from it, prompting her to change topics. “Say, Houdini, how are things going with the Triwizard Tournament? Have you had any luck with the egg?”

“Oh! Yeah, actually, I solved it a couple of days ago.”

“Wicked!” Finally, a fun topic! “It gives you a clue about the next task, right?”

“Yeah. It sang out what the clue was. Actually, I wrote down what it said. Let me go grab my notes!” Harry sprang out of his chair and went upstairs to retrieve it.

Again, silence returned to the room. Luckily it didn’t last long as Sirius mused, “So, a name divining, eh? How did you end up with Phoenix, of all things?”

“Weirdly enough, it’s some sort of constellation,” she answered. “Lord Black had this big list of star names I could choose from, and that name was the only one that fit the reading.”

“Huh. Really? That’s unexpected. I’ve never even heard of that one. Usually my family uses more common stars.”

“Yeah! I was thinking the same thing!” After a pause, she asked, “Is that what you guys are planning to do?”

“Us? Pfft! No,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Last thing I want is to name my kids after one of my stuffy ancestors.”

“Not even as a middle name? Lord Black’s gonna be pissed.”

“Heh. All the more reason for it. Although…” he turned to Chiara, “we can always do what Dora did. He wants a star name so badly, just make their middle names Star!”

“Give all of them the same middle name?” At his nod, she laughed and shook her head. “No, that would be too silly.” She then lifted up a finger in thought. “That said, Astro can be a good name.”

“Astro?” he asked. Mischievous smiles grew on both of them. “I like that. Astro or Aster for our boy, and maybe Stella or Vesper for our girl?”

“It could work!”

Melissa snorted a laugh. “If those will be their middle names, I can offer you a name reading for their first names, if you’d like?”

“Maybe,” said Sirius. “How about a two-for-one discount?”

“Ha! Trying to bargain, are we? After I did such a great job with Phoenix.”

“Yeah, but my grandfather gave you a list of names to work from,” he said teasingly. “We’re not doing any of that nonsense.”

“Okay, but how about-”

“HERE IT IS!” said Harry, re-entering the room.

“-we’ll negotiate after,” Melissa promised. Harry flounced into the seat next to her, and Melissa looked expectantly at the paper in his hand. “Well? What does it say?”

“Oh, right.” He paused for a moment, “Before we start, I should let you know that, when I solved the egg, it turned out that it had a message carved onto the outside, too. It said to follow the clues as they seem.”

“Okay?”

Harry cleared his throat, then began to read the paper aloud.

Enter this feat on your own two feet,

And embrace a sight without sight.

The key to each key,

Is to unlock one that at last must be won.

To find your ascent you must seek ascent,

One strong and sound to escape safely sound.

Then you who choose what you must choose

Best pick the right sweet in the sweet

Only those who need what they need

Can unlock our boon within the hour.

But hear now what we warn here

Only through one’s gate can you pass one’s gate.

Silence fell as Harry finished the poem, as Melissa found herself thoroughly confused. “Sorry, can I read that? That sounds really confusing.”

“I know, right? Here,” he lent the paper to her to read. He had scribbled notes pointing at spots along the poem, and she made comments along with his notes. “Okay, yeah, obviously no brooms allowed. A sight without sight… yeah, invisible makes sense, but it could also be something blind? Just throwing that out there.” The next stanza she repeated aloud a few times, trying to decipher it.

“If we have to follow the clues as they seem,” said Harry, “I figure I’ll need to find a key that unlocks something at the end of the Task.”

“Or, worse,” Sirius cautioned, “something you’ll need for the third task.”

“Good point,” Harry nodded.

Melissa read on. She agreed with Harry’s note that he’ll have to navigate magical staircases, like the ones at school, which have tricks or dangers to them; and only one will be safe to travel. The next few lines were odd. “So you have to pick a sweet that you need. It’s a weird choice of phrasing. Maybe one will be an antidote to a poison?”

“A poison?” Chiara asked with concern. “Do you think they plan on poisoning Harry and the others?”

“Maybe. That, or they plan on having ‘hostages’ to rescue that are poisoned to give the Champions more incentive to save them.”

“Hostages?!” Harry exclaimed. “They wouldn’t have hostages, would they?”

She just… slowly turned her head towards him, not sure how to answer him without being painfully obvious about canon events. “They forced teenagers to face dragons. Is this really that shocking?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer. Then he took a breath and let it out. “...Ugh. I hate it when you’re right.”

“You and me both, kid.” She looked at the final section, linking it all to make a summation. “So, you can’t work with the others, or use their “gates”, nor can you fly around. You’re facing a blind or invisible enemy, and it looks like it has some kind of key you need for the end of the Task. Then you gotta find the right set of stairs to take you to some sweets with a hidden antidote. Or, hold on, maybe the ‘right sweet’ is something to lure the invisible creature?”

“Say! That could be it!” Sirius encouraged. “Bait to lure it out or trade it for the key?”

“Makes sense,” Harry said with a nod. “I should start researching invisible creatures and figure out what kind of foods they like.”

“It’s a start,” Melissa agrees. The two shared a fond smile, enjoying this brainstorming and feeling relief as Harry moved one step closer to surviving the Triwizard Tournament.

Chapter Text

Wednesday December 28th, 1994

As the adults prepared the floo for travel, Melissa lured Harry aside with an unimpressed stare.

“What?” He asked in a whine.

“Do you seriously carry all three Hallows with you everywhere you go when you’re home?”

He was surprised by the question, then sheepish. “Yes. It just… feels right. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Obviously.” She blinked slowly. “That said… if we’re working on a theory that the creep factor affects babies, maybe you shouldn’t be wearing them today?”

“Oh. …Right.” He put a hand in his pocket, semi-pulling out the invisibility cloak, before pausing. “Though… wouldn’t it be better to test it out by seeing how he is with and without the Hallows on me on the same day?”

I take it back. This child is trying to kill me.

“Only if you plan on dropping them off back here before doing the second test .”

Harry mulled over the compromise, clearly not liking the idea, but he eventually conceded to it.

“Bril. Let’s head over, then.”

“WAHHH! OO-WAHHH! WAHHH!”

They shouldn’t be laughing, but watching Harry get flustered with a screaming baby in his arms is hysterical!

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” Harry said softly, practically begging. “It’s alright, Phoenix. You’re okay.”

“WAAAHHHHHH!”

After another snort of laughter, Draco stepped over to Harry. “Here, let me.” Harry passed the screaming baby into Draco’s arms, and the latter boy started to bounce the baby, cooing, “It’s alright, Phoenix. I’m here, it’s okay.” The screaming slowed to a whimper. “That’s right. Everything’s just fine. There you go.” More words whispered as the baby slowly eased away from whimpers and cries.

Harry was not happy with that fact. “How come when you say all that it works?”

“I’m telling you, Harry,” said Draco with a grin, “you’re just too ugly, and Phoenix knows it.”

All Bennetts and Blacks alike fell back into laughter. More so as the boys continued to argue.

As the banter continued, a cough alerted the group to Dobby’s presence. “Mistress,” he said with a bow, “Lord Black has arrived.”

“Cousin Arcturus?” Narcissa asked.

Draco looked confused. “Did he say he was coming today?”

“No. How strange. Draco, please entertain our guests while I greet him.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Narcissa swiftly left the room, as did Dobby. Harry then got out of his seat. “Actually, I think I’ll head over to the floo, too.”

Smart, Harry.

“Alright, Pup. Make sure to keep the old man in line, eh?”

Harry laughed at the request. “Will do. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Once he was out of ear shot, Melissa flashed Draco a cheeky smile. “So, you’re going to entertain us, eh? Do you plan on juggling or something?”

“Hmph! Hardly.” He turned his attention back to Phoenix, who was making cute little baby noises. A smile grew on Draco’s face, and he started talking to the baby as if having a conversation.

Honestly, it was adorable. “Brotherhood suits you.”

Draco looked up at her, almost annoyed in expression, then looking conflicted as he looked back down at Phoenix, then met her eyes again. “Um, thank you. …Do you want to hold him?”

“Sure!” She brought her arms out eagerly as Draco placed the baby in her arms. He was such a little thing. Tiny fingers, a cute little nose, baby blue eyes, and a fuzz of dark curls peeking under his cotton cap. “Such a cutie,” she cooed. “I wonder when his eyes will change?”

“Not for a few more months,” Mary answered, “if it changes much at all. His mother has grey eyes, doesn’t she?”

“She does, same as mine,” Sirius said, before muttering, “unfortunately.”

Melissa ignored the latter barb, as well as the adults' consequential tangent towards ideas of how the twins will look when they’re born. Instead, she turned her full attention to Phoenix. The little one smiled as he looked at her, and her whole heart melted.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered excitedly. He made a little noise, and she pretended like it was a response. “You’re a whole new person, Phoenix! You didn’t exist in this world, and now you’re here! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Aa!”

“Yeah! It’s so cool! And you’re going to grow up with your cousin Hope, and the twins, and make so many friends! I did your whole fortune before you were born, you know; and, you know what? You’re going to have a whole world of possibilities! Though, be sure to talk to me once you’re ready to date, alright? Because that part of your reading didn’t look so great.”

“Nr-aa!”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. That’s just what the cards said.”

“A’ang.”

“Because that’s how it goes, little one. Divination is a very serious subject.”

Draco gave a snort. “Oh, yes, a bunch of giggling witches staring into tea cups is very serious.”

As if to prove his point, Melissa giggled at the sarcastic remark. She hummed, staring adoringly at the baby who stared back, as if waiting to hear her talk again. Looking at him, and basking in happy feelings, her heart felt the urge to sing. As she contemplated a song, a silly thought crossed her mind, and her face lifted with a mischievous smile. Then she began to sing.

“~You think you know witches from stories and such

Maybe the truth isn't asking too much.

We look at the future and help it along

But to stir such a cauldron, you've got to be strong!

It's grander than fiction, the life that we lead.

Just think of your prospects, my darling take heed:

A sprinkle of glamour, a dollop of charm,

Trading family secrets and recipes long as your arm!”

Draco stared at her with an odd expression, “What on earth are you singing?”

“A song about witches,” she answered with cheek. 

“That’s no song I’ve ever heard of.”

“I doubt you would. It’s a muggle song.”

His expression went flat. “You are not teaching my little brother muggle songs. He deserves to grow up with magical lullabies, not whatever nonsense you’re spouting from some muggle’s point of view.”

She gave a snort. “Keep up that attitude, kid, and I’ll start calling him P.J.”

“P.J?” he asked, confused. “What on earth? Why?”

“Because that’s his name. Phoenix John, P.J. It’s a perfect nickname for him!”

Draco gaped at her, “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wanna bet?” she grinned darkly. “Like I said, keep up the attitude, Drakey, see what happens.”

Across the room, the adults laughed over their antics. Sirius, in particular, as he shouted, “P.J, eh? That can be very catchy!”

A war of looks marred Draco’s features, eventually his shoulders sagged and he gave a flick of his wrist, scornfully muttering, “Proceed, then.”

“Thank you!” she preened. Now, how did the next part of that song go? Ah, shit, I forgot!

His drop-off complete, Harry returned to the floo room, where Arcturus and Narcissa were waiting for him. “Thank you for your patience, Grandfather Arcturus, Narcissa.”

“Not at all, Harry,” Narcissa said with a smile. Even Arcturus offered a smile, though it looked pained as well.

He watched the way Arcturus held onto Narcissa’s arm, as if to be held up instead of as an escort. “Are you alright?”

His face twitched, somewhat annoyed by the question. “A small stumble, my boy, nothing more.”

It didn’t seem that way. Their walk to the family living room was slower than last time. Arcturus was practically shuffling the whole way over, and leaning on Narcissa for extra support. It felt like an age by the time they made it back. When they did, it was to the sight of Melly dancing around the living room, holding Phoenix in her arms, as she sung a song. She also kept giving Draco smug glances at portions of the song, as though mocking him, judging by the way she intoned some of the lyrics.

“~On the outside we look proper and prim 

But we battle nobility's ill-advised whim.

Shameless and shining, we always ask why,

For what cooks in our cauldron could call down the sky.

Best believe we fought hard when temptation arrived

Threatening with lions and offering bribes

We'd not do her bidding and draw down the moon, 

Though she murdered our brothers and mother for want of a spoon!

Tyranny's child has not broken us yet

Try as she might, not a drop will she get!

Tyranny's tantrums have come into play,

Striking down witches for want of a day!

Oh, no.”

Draco was scowling the entire time. Meanwhile, the adults in the room were thoroughly entertained as she serenaded the baby. Harry smiled at the sight, finding it cute that Melly was singing some sort of witch’s lullaby, of all things. He turned to Narcissa and Arcturus. Narcissa looked somewhat confused by the sight, but her light smile suggested that she, too, found the sight endearing. Arcturus, however, had narrowed eyes at Melly’s dance with unhidden scorn.

It made Harry rather uncomfortable, so he opted to distract the man. “Can I help you to a seat, Grandfather Arcturus?”

The question seemed to annoy the man further, and he took a step forward. “I don’t need-” his face pinched closed, his body shaking as he finished his step away from Narcissa. “...Yes. Thank you, my boy.”

He took Arcturus by the arm, guiding him over to a cushioned armchair. Arcturus’ body shuddered as he lowered into the seat, and his face pinched with pain. Harry wanted to ask about it; but, with the way Arcturus spoke earlier, it seemed to Harry that the man’s pride would refuse any explanation.

Elsewhere in the room, Harry’s ears clued in to a darker, leering tone as Melly continued to sing.

“~It's when we are human that you must take care

And learn how to dance when there's blood on the air.

The world is a dangerous place, little one,

But you already know there are marvellous deeds to be done!”

Harry had turned to watch them at the end of the second line. Her attention was fully focused on Phoenix, this time; even giving a playful tap on his nose as the ‘little one’ to show the words were meant for him. Harry risked a glance back at Arcturus, and his expression had grown upset and full of suspicion. Oh no! Melly, this better not be a prophecy!

“~Wicked and strong in our shining we stand, 

Straight-backed with a drop of the future to hand;

It’s when we are human that you must take care,

But wonders will come to you, darling, if only you dare!

Oh, if only you dare!

Tyranny's child has not broken us yet!

Try as she might, not a drop will she get!

Tyranny's towers can't topple too soon

From striking down witches for want of a spoon,

Oh no!”

The song ended, Melly giggling as the baby cooed. “Yes, you like music, don’t you, little one?”

“What song is that, anyways?” Jake asked. “It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

“Definitely strange,” Melly agreed. “I remember that it’s called Song of the Witches, and it’s based on some book; but I don’t really know what book it’s about.”

“Must be a fairytale,” Mary remarked. “Witches wanting a spoon, it almost sounds like something out of a nursery rhyme.”

“Muggles have nursery rhymes about witches?” Draco asked.

“Well-” Mary looked over to Jake, then to Melly; both shrugging in lack of knowledge, “nothing that I can think of; but those lyrics have a similar fantastical nature to nursery rhymes.”

Jake then added, “With a touch of Brothers Grimm, judging by those dark undertones.”

Melly gave a shrug, “Your guess is as good as mine.” She turned, spotting the arrival of Harry and the others. “Welcome back!” She flounced over to them. Her eyes met Arcturus’, and, for a moment, an unspoken wariness matched in each of their eyes. In a blink, Melly broke it off, brightening Harry with a smile. She lifted the baby in her arms as a gesture. “Up for round two?”

He really didn’t want to see Phoenix cry again, but resigned himself to his fate. “Yeah, sure.”

Phoenix shifted uncomfortably in his arms, eliciting whimpers within moments.

“Well…” her expression was a mix between humoured and apologetic, “he’s handling you better than earlier.”

“Small mercies,” Harry sighed.

“Now, now,” Narcissa said softly, “he’s just getting used to you, that’s all.”

Harry sincerely doubted that.

Beside him, Arcturus scoffed. “He seems rather attached to you,” he said accusingly to Melly.

She, and everyone else for that matter, was thrown by his tone. Melly clicked her tongue, “Well, what can I say, I’m a lovable person.”

Jake, however, didn’t let the comment slide, “Do you have a problem with my daughter being near the baby?”

“I do when his mother personally demands her presence here.”

Mmm, fair point. Still, that’s hardly Melly’s fault.

Melly, in turn, shared that sentiment. “You’re holding a pretty big grudge for some instruction she gave Narcissa four months ago.”

“Hmph! Try a week ago.”

“What?!” 

The question bounced all around the room. It only abated once Narcissa gave a long sigh. “It’s true. I visited Azkaban the day before Yule to give Bella an update on Phoenix, and she insisted that the ‘Slytherin Seer’ spend some time with him.”

Sirius looked offended. “Hold on, you’re telling us that you're letting Bella-bitch have a say in how you raise the kid? Are you mental!”

“Sirius!” Chiara chastised.

“I have no choice,” said Narcissa. “His future demands that my sisters and I all take part in his upbringing; and that includes his mother.” 

“Demands it? Says who?!” he demanded.

“Ha!” Arcturus scoffed. “You’re asking who? You’re looking at her!”

Everyone turned to stare as he gestured to Melly. Her eyes widened in dawning realization. “Oh,” she looked down, blinking as the words registered. “That is a pretty on-the-nose interpretation of what I said,” she admitted.

“Melly-”

“Hey! I was paid to do a reading, and I read it. Don’t get all mad at the messenger just because it’s something you don’t like.”

“She’s right,” said Narcissa. “This is what’s best for Phoenix; and so long as he’s under my care, I will do whatever is best for his needs.”

“And why do you get final say?” Sirius said aggressively, linking arms with Chiara. “We can look after him just as easily, if not better, I’d say.”

Really? Harry thought with surprise. Guess he’s more ready for being a dad than I thought.

Narcissa smiled at the question in a way that unnerved him. “Except, as it happens, his reading also demands that I be the one to raise him.”

Sirius’ eyes snapped towards Melly. “Come on, kid, seriously?”

“Look,” she paused helplessly, “his Home Life card was tilted over a foundation of the Empress and Three of Cups. If he doesn’t grow up with Narcissa, and without input from Andromeda and Bellatrix, his home life is going to topple! That’s what the cards said. His conception makes things pretty precarious as it is. Do we honestly want to make things worse for the kid?”

The adults looked sheepish or conflicted by the information. No one spoke as her explanation was thought over.

Then Phoenix started to cry.

“No, not again!” Harry cried. He met Melly’s eyes in a panic, “Can we-?”

She gave a nod. “Sure, I got it right here.” She pulled a flat box out of her pocket, and the two stepped away from the adults as she opened it up. Inside of the box was a silver chain of small black beads: deep black jet, matte tourmaline, and metallic hematite, and all inscribed with runes of protection. At the centre of the chain was a small pendant of a ruby and an orange feather encased in a mesh of silver wire.

“Is that going to work?”

“Honestly,” she lamented, “I have no idea.”

The adults, having a clear view of the pair, looked on in confusion and intrigue. “What is that?” asked Narcissa.

“A gift for Phoenix,” Harry asked simply.

“A baby phoenix feather for a baby phoenix,” Melly said jokingly.

His head snapped up. “That’s an actual phoenix feather?!”

“Yeah, it’s one of the ones Fawkes gave to me,” she said, as though it were one of the most normal things in the world. 

Everyone in the room, however, disagreed with that fantasy.

“Raise his head up, will you?” she asked. With a cringe, Harry raised the crying baby’s head. Guilt seared through him and Phoenix cried harder. “Here we go, Phoenix,” she cooed, “You’re being so brave, little one. Just another second and- got it!” She clasped the hook to one circle of the chain, leaving a trailing tail behind. Humming a tune, she tucked the tail into the back of Phoenix’s onesie, then opened a few front buttons so that the pendant could rest on his chest.

Just like with Draco, his cries lessened to whimpers, then lessened more until the baby was completely at peace.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Sirius muttered. Harry looked up, finding all eyes on them. “It actually worked!”

“What-” Draco looked between Harry and Sirius, “what worked? What is that?”

“I’ve been researching magical gemology,” Melly explained in half-truth. “When Harry mentioned Phoenix crying, I figured it’d be fun to try out making a necklace out of stones that’ll make him feel better.”

The adults looked thoughtful. Arcturus, of course, looked suspicious as always. “And this is what you made? In only one night?”

“Yeah,” she said casually, “it’s pretty fun stuff; and just look at how happy he is!”

Harry certainly was enjoying how happy Phoenix was. All of the other adults looked happily content or proud at the change.

Grandfather Arcturus, however… “And you willingly used a phoenix feather as a gift?”

“Sure, why not. Not like I have loads of cash to give extravagant gifts, so I might as well give him something I already have that’s both valuable and will last a long while. Besides,” she flashed a dark grin, “didn’t you once say that I’m practically the kid’s godmother? Only makes sense, really, that I give him something nice.”

What?!

The question was bizarre. Narcissa, in particular, looked offended at the implication. Arcturus, meanwhile, looked murderous. He looked that way; and yet Melly seemed to be enjoying his glare, if her smug expression was anything to go by.

Okay, what the hell am I missing between these two?

“And we’re glad you did,” Chiara said hurriedly.

“Right,” added Sirius. “You did good, Mel. How does that magic work, anyways?”

The question semi-worked as a tangent. Melly got to explaining the theory behind magical gemology, along with her studies in song magic, and research done about magic performed in other countries. Arcturus wasn’t swayed, though, still eyeing Melly with full suspicion. So, as a distraction, Harry coaxed him around to spend time with the baby. A baby who was no longer crying- a giant relief, if you asked Harry.

The distraction worked for the most part. Arcturus spent more time with Harry, Phoenix and Narcissa than anyone else, and things were relatively peaceful for the rest of the visit.

“That was brilliant!” Harry said once they returned to Grimmauld Place, remarking on the effects of the phoenix pendant. “I’m so glad, we finally found something that works! Now we just need a necklace for you and everything will be better again!”

“Hold your horses, kid,” Melly said with a chuckle. “We’re nowhere near ready for mine yet.”

“What are you talking about?” he said incredulously. “The necklace works!”

“Yeah, for Phoenix, sure; but for me-” she hooked a thumb underneath her collar and began to pull. A chain of black beads followed the pull, and Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of a familiar red and orange pendant. “-it still hurts. Barely made a barrier when you were wearing the damn things, I might add.”

“What?!” Harry floundered at the proof of her claim. “But we- why- what are we missing?”

“Beats me,” she said with a dismissive gesture. “Wrong combo, wrong amount, bad lyrics, bad cadence, missing ingredients, it could be anything.”

His heart sank, the multitude of possibilities weighing down on him. “Melody, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey, hey, no apologies. It’s just what it is, alright. Like we said, I’m different, so I just need something different, that’s all.” She then offered an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. We’re going to figure it out, you and me, alright?”

He gave a nod, his eyes flashing with determination. “Right. We’ll figure it out together.”

“That’s the spirit!” She gave an upturned nod in lieu of a playful head ruffle, or a hug, …or anything physical like she used to do.

“MELISSA,” Mary called from below, “IT’S TIME TO GO!”

“I’LL BE RIGHT DOWN, MUM!” She turned back to Harry and gave him a warm smile. “I’ll see you around, Harry. You take care of yourself.”

“I will. Same to you, too. Be safe.”

“Sir, yes sir!” she said, giving a salute, before prancing downstairs to the door.

Harry took a step back, sinking onto his bed, contemplating the weight of the consequence that is being the Master of Death. His hand reached out reflexively, grasping onto the silvery cloak at his beside, only feeling comfort once all three were on his person once again.

Chapter Text

Sunday January 1st, 1995

“Hello, hello, hel-LO, beautiful ladies!” Melissa crooned, “My, what a dazzling display you bring to today’s train ride!”

“Thank you, you’re too kind,” Sierra said haughtily, flinging back her new orange and gold locks.

Across from her, Juliet, Lucy, and Jacqueline giggled. Lucy twirled a strand of her hair, at the point where her natural light blonde transformed into baby pink, “Do you think it looks nice?”

“It’s gorgeous!” Melissa said encouragingly. “It suits you perfectly!” She then turned to regard Jacqueline’s new look. “Now that is an interesting choice. It’s barely noticeable.”

Jacqueline tucked a strand behind her ear, showing a bit more of the purple streaks hidden beneath her straight black hair. “I- um- wasn’t sure if my parents would approve.”

“I think they took it well,” Juliet said encouragingly. Her own hair sported the same dark purple, though it completely covered her now shortened hair. “At least, compared to the rest of us.”

The girls all giggled at the idea, or memory- in most cases.

“I suppose that’s true,” Jacqueline said hesitantly.

“Yeah, the rest of you went far bolder,” Melissa agreed.

“You’re one to talk!” Sierra said with a pouncing tease. “Just look at your hair!”

Indeed, there was truth to the statement. Melissa’s hair was cut short and mussed into a wavy bob; and the whites of her snowy aurora hair were traded away for more indigo, leaving the thermosphere for a full galaxy look. Preening at the statement, Melissa shook her hair back and forth. “Well, what can I say, I’m a trendsetter!”

“What you are,” Snape muttered against the repeated claim, “is a blight against my sanity.”

“It’s just hair, Professor,” she said innocently. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is when half of the school engages in such blinding obscenity.” He handed Jacqueline her prefect schedule, giving even her peekaboo highlights a withering glare. “Mark my words, I’ll have this practice banned by the end of the week.” He moved on from their section of the common room, his cloak billowing behind him in the process.

Once he was out of earshot, she muttered, “Would this be a bad time to ask him to sign off on an exception to the Apparition Test?”

“Yes,” chorused her yearmates’ voices.

She groaned loudly, whining, “It’s not fair! I can pay to take lessons, but I can’t take the test?”

“You won’t be of age by then,” Garrick reminded her. “If they start letting sixteen year olds apparate, what’s to stop fifth years from demanding the same treatment, and then again with fifteen years old, until the cycle continues?”

“You’re being dramatic, Garrick.”

“You can just take the test later,” said Amy. “I’m sure there’s a time to take the test this summer.”

Yes, but I need to take the test before the third task! “I don’t wanna wait that long!”

“The woes of being the youngest of us,” said Domonkos with a laugh.

She growled under her breath, and flipped through a mental calendar to figure out the timeline of June events. “Fuck it, I’ll ask for a test the day after my birthday. That’ll be a Saturday, I can probably get away with it.”

Amy laughed at her determination. “Well, we won’t stop you from trying. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.” 

Monday January 2nd, 1995

“Come on, Melly, please tell me?”

Melissa laughed heartily, “No is a full sentence, Harry.”

“It’s not fair, though!” Harry whined, ignoring the odd stares as they walked through the hallway to Melissa’s Rune class. “How come you get to know what the twins' names will be but I can’t?”

“Uh, because I’m the one who picked them?” She said teasingly.

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Kid, if neither Sirius or Chiara are willing to tell you, you gotta respect that decision.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Harry rolled his eyes back in annoyance.

Melissa, meanwhile, continued to force laughter as she walked into the room, safe from Harry’s prodding. Poor kid, and poor parents, really, Melissa thought. Hopefully the reading’s just wrong and they decide to ignore it and do their own thing, instead.

Wednesday January 4th, 1995

“That just happened,” said Amy, sliding into the Slytherin table with a dazed look on her face. “That really just happened.”

Melissa considered Amy for a moment, then noticed Rusalka’s own smug expression. “I take it that Miss Murphy’s guest lecture had good results?”

Both girls nodded with smiles, though Amy’s was still notably dazed. “We had a contest, and she picked me to join an expedition this summer.”

“Cromwell, Kettleburn, and MacFusty got invitations, too,” Rusalka pointed out. “Along with a few other people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.”

“So? I still got picked!” said Amy. She broke into a happy grin. “That’s way better than Mad-Eye’s commendation to the Auror Corp.”

“Hold on-,” Melissa interrupted, “when did that happen?”

Rusalka gave a snort, “The start of class, actually. He went on a big rant about how less than half of the Hogwarts students in our year are taking the required classes, and even less have the marks to qualify for Auror training.”

“In Meakin’s defense-,” started Amy.

“-He’s Meakin,” all three said simultaneously.

“So who else is Moody vying for?” Melissa asked.

“Cromwell and Hawkworth,” said Rusalka.

“Technically Eloise, Fred, and George are also the only other people who are taking the right kinds of courses,” Amy supplied, “but he says they’ve ‘got their brains stuck in the workshop’, which is just a dumb way of saying they’re inventors, not fighters.”

Melissa gave the comment a dismissive grimace, “To be fair, they’re awesome at what they do.”

“Too true.”

“So,” Melissa gave Rusalka a curious look, “that’s Amy’s summer plans booked. What about you? Is Monsieur Thoreau going to hold a duelling contest, too?”

She gave a nod. “He will, but only for NEWT students. He’s going to invite qualifiers for the international junior league. I’m sure I’ll be selected. With Cromwell and Kettleburn out of the way, the only real obstacles in my path are Vance, Diggory, Hawkworth and the Weasley Twins.”

“No shit?” That surprised her. “Cedric’s going to try for it, even with the Triwizard Tournament?”

“Why not? He’s improved by leaps and bounds since the tournament started.” Coming from Rusalka, that casual comment sounded more like high praise!

“Huh. Well, good for him; and good luck to you, too!”

Thursday January 5th, 1995

When Melissa arrived at Potions class, it was to find Corin humming under his breath as he prepared his work station. She took a seat at a nearby desk, having happily surrendered her old seat during their last class so that Corin and Beatrice could share a workstation together.

“Well someone’s in an unusually chipper mood. Things are going well with Vance, I take it?”

“Always, but that’s not the reason.” Corin fished out a roll of parchment from his bag and handed it to her, saying, “Look what I got today.”

Melissa unfurled the parchment and gave it a read-through. Her eyes went wide. “A summer job at the Moon Observatory?” At his nod, her mind branched off, “Okay, is everyone already planning summer jobs and apprenticeships?! What happened to summer fun?!”

Corin gave a laugh, “This is summer fun, Mel!”

“You and I have very different definitions of fun!” She teased. Seeing the Gryffindors file in, she shouted, “Forge, Gred, back me up on something; you’re not going to be spending the summer working, right?”

Both boys paused in their step, “Not all the time,” they answered.

“Come on, seriously?!”

“Padfootedly!” they said. A remark which caused Melissa to double-take before falling into roaring laughter.

“That’s- but- you’re you!”

“And we have our contracts signed, at last!” said George.

“We’re getting ourselves a proper workshop and everything, now that we have the seed money to get really started,” said Fred.

Brains stuck in a workshop, indeed!

“Ugh!” Her head rolled back as she said, “I can’t even complain about that, that’s really impressive and cool.” She tilted her head back upright, “Please tell me you’re at least going to take some time off to have fun.”

“Obviously,” they said. Then Fred quipped, “it’s like she doesn’t even know us.”

“You’re all changing too much and it’s weird,” Melissa retorted.

“It’s called growing up,” said Corin. “You should try it sometime.”

When I’ve finally fully embraced being a teenager?!

“Not a chance!”

Friday January 6th, 1995

On their first Friday back to Ancient Studies, Professor Babbling started the class’ section on Magical Ancient Greece. To say that Melissa was excited would be an understatement.

“The most frequent use of κατάδεσμοι was to mess with political and business rivals, plus fellow athletes before a competition,” Melissa answered eagerly. “The benefits were, well, cheating, when you think about it, since they curse and ‘bind down’ your enemies. The biggest downside is that you had to perfectly time when to put them underground for them to take full effect. Also,” her nose scrunched, “the people hiding them in wells and fountains instead of graveyards were just asking to poison everyone. I know this is probably spoilers for future classes, but using lead in your water supply really messes with your brain and it’s considered a big contributor to the fall of the Roman Empire.”

Professor Babbling’s expression twinged with amusement, “That is correct, Miss Bennett. Take five points to Slytherin for that thoughtful addition. Now, the use of these binding tablets was popular among followers of Hades and Hermes…”

The lecture continued. As it did, Garrick turned in his seat to gape at Melissa with pure incredulity. His mouth voicelessly asked, “How did you know all that?”

His shock had her preening, smugly mouthing back, “I’m awesome.” With an exasperated head shake, Garrick turned back around to pay attention to the lesson. Melissa did much the same, and earned twenty more house points by the end of class.

Friday January 13th, 1995

“This notion, that music imitates the movements of the soul, led Damon to conclude that epodes, while magical by nature, are not the only form of music to contain magic,” Professor Babbling explained. “He believed that even paeans have a magic to them, despite having no true proof to the claim. Can anyone guess why this thought persisted, even though paeans lack any innate magical qualities?”

Two hands shot in the air. Professor Babbling eyed the pair in amusement before selecting Lev to give his opinion. “Music is strong on ze mind,” he said. “It can quiet anger, relax fear, or make a calm heart race. Ze same is done wit potions or charms, so how is it not magic?”

Professor Babbling gave a hum of approval, “Hmm, an interesting argument. Miss Bennett, your thoughts on the matter?”

She took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Well, it may not be magic; but, like he said, music can exert a physical change in people. In the muggle world, researchers have found that music can make changes to people on a medical level. For example, choral music can boost the immune system; while jazz and bluegrass can reduce cortisol levels, which in turn reduces the risk of heart problems. Music can even bypass the symptoms of Parkinson’s, a degenerative disease, allowing people’s bodies to move when all usual methods of movement stop working.”

Everyone openly stared at her now, even Professor Babbling. Yet, in that silence, Melissa found a thought to continue on. “Huh. Now that I think about it, both paeans and epodes are considered choral music, too, right? That actually lines up with the immune-boosting evidence since they were both used for healing magic, right?”

“That’s…” the Professor trailed off for a moment. “Yes, that fits well with our knowledge of epodes and paeans.” Another pause fell as thoughts were collected. Finally, the professor cleared her throat and said, “Ten points to Slytherin. Moving on- Of all forms of epodes, the most powerful were those using the Phrygian scale, played on the flute. This combination, sacred in their beliefs, is said to purify the soul of demons and forms of mania…”

“Alright,” said Garrick as they stepped out of class, “I finally understand your love for this class.”

“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” she chirped.

Corin gave a snort, saying, “I think he means that it’s turning you into a fellow ‘swot’.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“That’s just it,” said Corin, “if it were anyone else, you’d call them a swot or a nerd; yet, here you are, raking in house points and spouting off facts that no one knows about!”

“Not to mention reciting Ancient Greek incantations by heart,” Garrick added.

“That, too,” Corin agreed.

“Well I say eet ees amazing,” Fleur said haughtily, stepping into the conversation and staring into each boys’ eyes. “Mel’s knowledge should be appreciated, yes?”

“Uhh…” Corin trailed, oh so intelligibly, “ye- yeah.”

“Right,” Garrick agreed, “very impressive. You, of course, are amazing and-”

“Yes, zank you,” Fleur swept forward, linking her arm in Melissa’s and urging her to quickly walk away from the boys. As they turned a corner, both girls burst into laughter. 

“That was fantastically twisted,” Melissa laughed again. “Say what you want about its downsides, but you’ve got great comedic delivery with that allure.”

Fleur giggled, “Zank you. Eet ees not often I act een such a way.”

“Yeah, but it’s so much fun when you do. Like I said, comedic timing and delivery is key.”

“Eef you say so,” her giggling started to subside. Straightening herself up, she took in a large breath. Now relaxed, she asked, “About ze epodes, do you know any zat can find dangers?”

“Dangers?” Melissa blinked. “Uh, yeah, I can think of a couple I’ve read about. Why do you ask?”

Her eyes darted about the spacing, seeing the various people heading down for lunch. Leaning close, she whispered, “For ze tournament. I believe music will ‘elp.”

“Music? Really? Why?”

“To… find dangers,” she repeated hesitantly.

Of course, Melissa thought, I’m a Hogwarts student, after all. She can’t give too much away. Though, oh- right, an invisible creature!

“To find a ‘sight without sight’, right?” Melissa enjoyed the surprised look on Fleur’s face, even the mild scowl she gave soon after. She giggled at the expression. “Sorry, I couldn't help it. I’ll show you the spells I know; just don’t be upset if I give Harry and Cedric my suggestions, too.”

Fleur let out a soft groan. “I suppose I ‘ave no choice. Cedric and I ‘ave spoken and agreed to not ‘elp each other for ze Tournament, but for zis…”

“You’re asking for help from the enemy, so to speak.”

“Yes, zat eez one way to call eet.” Her expression fell resolute. “Still, zank you for your ‘elp.”

“Any time!” Melissa said with a giggle. “Gotta help you lot survive this crazy thing.”

Saturday January 14th, 1995

The full carriage chuckled as Melissa regaled them with her story of visiting the Headmaster’s office. “-and then he said ‘In fact, I was thinking of purchasing some dye, myself. I think a touch of silver or gold would look quite dashing.’ Man, the look on Professor Snape’s face-”

“You’re pulling our leg!” Eloise accused, laughing all the while.

“I’m telling you, it’s true!” Melissa insisted. “He may or may not be serious, but he still said it!”

“That is madness,” said Domonkos, face-palming a laughing grin. “Okay, but- even if that’s true, and the Headmaster won’t ban it, why would Professor Snape still help you, then?”

“I have no idea,” she claimed. “Frankly, I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk him reneging on scheduling the test.”

Lev blinked in confusion, “Gift horse in ze mout?”

“It means you shouldn’t question getting a gift,” Eloise explained.

“But… in ze mout?”

“Something about checking its teeth,” Melissa said, eyes moving up with memory. “You can see the age or quality or something of a horse by checking its teeth; so if you’re gifted one and look into its mouth, you’re implying that you don’t appreciate the gift, as is, and think it's a horse of bad quality. In this case, I’m not about to ask why Snape’s willing to help me get an apparition test scheduled, I’ll just stay grateful that he is.”

Domonkos narrowed his eyes slightly, “I feel I should be more suspicious of you now. Music magic in Ancient Studies is one thing, but how do you know all this?”

Melissa looked at him oddly. “What? I read a book of idioms as a kid. Not my fault you didn’t grow up here.”

Lev and Eloise gave a chorus of ‘Ooo’s’ at the insult. Domonkos, instead of taking the bait, turned over to Lev, “The English and their xenophobia, am I right?”

Lev gave a snort.

“Hey! What? I’m not xenophobic! And, besides, you’re mum’s English, too!”

“Which doesn’t count, apparently, since I ‘didn’t grow up here’.”

“He has a point,” Lev said with a snicker. “You make jabs at me for being Russian.”

“You make jabs at me for being English, too! How’s that any different?”

“It’s not,” Lev admitted, “but it’s fun vatching you get embarrassed.”

“I-” she immediately went red, which was clearly what Lev was hoping for as he laughed and pulled her in close. Melissa, in turn, floundered within the hug, “Help! I’m being oppressed!”

“Now you’re just doing it on purpose.”

“Doing vot?” he asked innocently. “Vitches like to dress up, yes?”

“Uh-huh,” she eyed the clothing in his hands, noting the clinging silk fabric and plunging neckline, “in revealing outfits?” There was a slight tick upwards of a smile on Lev’s face, giving himself away. “Babe, I already know you got some kind of a blushing kink. You just want me to feel embarrassed so you’ve got something to think about at night.”

That comment twisted things, causing Lev to blush instead. It took a moment to compose himself, where he then countered, “Maybe you von’t be embarrassed. Maybe you vill like how you look; and maybe,” he stepped closer and murmured into her ear, “it vill be you who zinks of vairing zis at night, vit dreams of me taking it off of you.”

Her face positively flamed at those words. A fact which was apparent as he continued, “Either way,” he gave her warm cheek a kiss, “I vin at making you red.”

Her reaction was incredulous, “YOU SNEAKY MOTHERFUCKER!”

Lev burst out laughing, nearly curling into himself. Though his eyes stayed on hers, enjoying her expression. Melissa was tempted to smack him then and there, only for the dress to catch her eye. Through some odd sense of conflicting emotions, she snarled, “Give me that,” and snatched it from his arms. He didn’t care much at her reaction, though he did do a double-take when she marched into one of the dressing rooms.

“Vait, vot are you doing?”

“If you’ve already won,” she yelled through the curtain, “I might as well make the most of it!”

The boy’s eyes went wide at the implication. His face grew into a wide smile, as excited thoughts raced through him. “Can I see?”

“...Maybe.” Her voice then grew teasing, “I might just look at myself in the mirror here and never come out. Keep my thoughts to myself, you know?”

“Vot? But-” he struggled with words, edging closer to the curtain. “If I say ‘I’m sorry’, vill you come out?”

“Hmm…” she let the question stay in agonizing silence as she changed out of her clothes. “Hard to say. What if the dress is too tight around my curves?”

Her ‘innocent’ question elicited a moan from the other side of the curtain. “It vood still be nice to see, please?”

She snickered lightly, enjoying how she was riling him up. “What if it’s too loose, and the neckline shows too much of my chest?”

There was silence on the other end.

She was able to slide the dress on and check it over long before the time he finally spoke. “Um, anyzing you vair vill be fine.”

“Anything?” she said sweetly.

“Yes.”

“...What if I wore nothing?”

“...Ever better!”

“Well, that’s too bad,” she slid the curtain open, “You’ll just have to contend with me being in this.”

By the time the curtain opened, Lev was in a full flush with the thoughts she’d put into his head. Thoughts aside, he put his full attention to the moving curtain, gaping as she revealed herself.

“Vot?” He looked at her from top to bottom, then back to the top, looking at her clothes with full confusion. “Vair is ze dress?”

“Oh, it didn’t fit right,” she said casually. With a hop, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll just have to imagine it for yourself.”

Lev groaned as he realized what just happened. “You are a mean and sneaky vitch.”

“Yeah, well it takes one to know one,” she teased, laughing as she took him by the arm. “Come on, Lover Boy, let’s go and find something fun to do!”

Sunday January 15th, 1995

With only a month remaining before Valentine’s Day (a.k.a Friend’s Day), VATIC was hard at work with their set up. The majority of the group was working on making the invitations, while Melissa gave her report to Tracey and Dean.

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, gleefully surprised. “Dumbledore gave us permission?”

“Yep. He’s going to block off the area so that no one catches on to what we’re doing ahead of time. All that’s left is to just put it all together.”

“Easier said than done,” Tracey admitted. “This plan is pretty ambitious, even for us.”

“Especially with it being a Tuesday,” Melissa agreed.

“Still, we’ll pull it off,” said Dean. “The second years have an off period that day, and our year has Monday afternoon’s off. That’s enough time to add any finishing touches we need.”

“True,” Melissa thought for a moment, “I can also wiggle some extra time for setting things up.”

“Brilliant,” said Dean with a smile. “Oh, since the second years might need to work on it, we should make sure they have the ice spell down.”

“Good idea,” agreed Tracey. “HEY EVERYONE, I need Astoria, Byron, Ben, Cody, and Annabel to come over here. Looks like we need you to learn the ice-making spell, after all.”

“Really?” whined Cody Ammadon, their newest member. “It’s a third year spell, though. I won’t be able to do it right.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, mate,” Byron said encouragingly. “I think you can pull it off. We all will.”

Cody looked heartened, but unsure, “You really think so?”

“Of course,” he answered confidently. “Don’t worry, if you run into any problems, I’ll help you practise, alright?”

“Yeah,” Cody said with a shy smile, “thanks, mate.”

“Hey, it’s what friends are for!” Byron clapped Cody on his back, and the two joined the others, more ready than ever to practise the spell.

Wednesday January 18th, 1995

“Heyyyy, Granger,” Melissa called out casually.

Hermione stopped mid-step into the grass. “Bennett? What are you doing here?”

“I’m done with classes for the day, so I’m going to visit my boyfriend at the ship.”

“I see,” Hermione said slowly, suspiciously, as she continued her walk to Care of Magical Creatures. “Isn’t it improper to be going to your boyfriend’s dorm? People may start thinking you’re doing immoral things.”

Melissa gave a snort. She has a mission to do, but to be reprimanded by this girl, of all witches- “Please, I’m not the one that was caught in the field while her boyfriend was in a blindfold.”

“WHAT?!” Hermione squeaked. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Linnea and Vaino spotted you two while trying to find their own private spot,” Melissa said, bearing a shark-like grin. “Gotta say, I’m surprised to hear that their rumour is actually true-”

“It’s not what you think!”

“Really? You mean you weren’t spoon-feeding Viktor desserts while he was blindfolded?”

“I-” Hermione went full-scarlet, positively fumbling for words.

“Hey, it’s no sweat, Granger. It’s practically a ship-bound rumour, anyways, and I’m not going to tell anyone about it. To be honest, I’m kinda impressed with your gumption, actually.”

“...You’re really not going to tell anyone?” she asked meekly.

“Course not. Especially when I have a favour to ask you.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide before they sharpened incredulously. “I should have known, the Snake that you are,” she hissed. “What do you want?!”

“So angry, little Lion. It’s nothing big. I just want to borrow the time-turner on Valentine’s Day.”

“What? Why?” she asked, only to answer herself with, “Wait, is this for the Valentine Club? What do you possibly need a jump for? The Headmaster told you that the time-turner is meant to be a secret!”

“Yes, hence why I’d be doing it alone instead of with anyone in VATIC. No one else needs to know about it.” After a beat without silence, she turned to begging, “Come on, Granger, please? We’re doing something big this year and it’ll be hard to pull this off without people peeping on the big reveal.”

After a small internal war, Hermione gave a loud sigh and muttered, “Oh, alright.”

“Yes!”

“I take Muggle Studies last, so be sure to be there by the end of class.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Melissa exclaimed with a salute. “I’ll be at the ready at sixteen hundred hours!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “You are so strange.”

Melissa winked, claiming, “It adds to the charm!”

Sunday January 22nd, 1995

“LOOK OUT!”

Ice spiked across the room, toppling two desks and causing papers to go flying in the process. 

“Buggering hell!” Ben shouted. “SORRY! Are you guys okay?”

Parvati shook from her spot on the floor, having been pulled out of the way last-minute by Dean; Stephen and Jamie had been thrown aside with the desk they had been sitting at; while Luna and Melissa had managed to evade the entire chaos before it struck.

“Argh! What the bloody hell, Ben!” Jamie shouted, pulling himself off the floor.

“I’m sorry! I stumbled while casting the spell!”

“Well next time,” he said, marching over, “learn to BLOODY AIM, WILL YOU!”

“Hey, calm down,” said Byron, who moved to stand between the two boys. “It was an accident. We all saw it, right?” He gestured to Tracey and the other second years, who all nodded in agreement. “We’ll be careful so that there isn’t a next time.”

Jamie still looked peeved by the whole experience, but managed to mutter, “You better”, to end the escalation.

Byron then stepped closer to Jamie and the others at the desks, “Are any of you hurt? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

Being helped up from the floor by Luna and Melissa, Stephen muttered weakly, “Yeah, I do.”

“Me, too,” Jamie admitted.

“Alright, let’s go, then,” Byron offered. “I’ll explain everything to her, so it won’t be a problem.”

“I think we have a problem,” Tracey confided with Melissa once they got back to the common room.

“We do?” Melissa straight up in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Byron,” she said, eliciting a confused face from Melissa. “Haven’t you noticed he’s been… weird, lately?”

She thought about it for a moment. “He doesn’t seem to be acting weird to me.”

“Really?” Tracey asked with disbelief. “You don’t think it’s weird how he helps his yearmates with homework or talks with the firsties when they get homesick; or how about the fact that he doesn’t sneer at Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott anymore for their dad’s getting arrested last summer?”

“Wait,” Melissa said slowly, thinking those points over. “Okay, so Byron’s being less of a prick, and that’s a problem?”

“It is when it doesn’t make any sense!” Tracey hissed. “Something’s changed with him, but I don’t know what.”

“Well… Let’s trace our steps. When did he start acting differently?”

“November, at least” she said confidently. “That meet-up when Harry dropped out of the group. He was acting weird then. Not sure if it started earlier.”

“Hmm…” Silly as these complaints were, Melissa made an effort to think it over. “That checks out. He was definitely being a prick to Malfoy about his dad on Halloween.”

“Do you think Karkaroff did something to him?” Tracey whispered nervously.

“What?”

“You know how Byron talks about Death Eaters. What if he tried to attack Headmaster Karkaroff and he got Byron with dark magic?”

It took several blinks of disbelief before Melissa answered that one. “I think you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.” She gave a frustrated sigh, “We can just ask him what’s up, you know? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this.”

“I guess…” Tracey didn’t seem to accept her own words, but it was better than nothing.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning,” she promised. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for how he’s being.”

Monday January 23rd, 1995

“Why are we going in here, again?” Byron asked as the hidden passageway opened to the caves beneath the school. “I thought we were just going to talk about VATIC stuff?”

“We are, but it’s better to talk here than risk getting overheard.”

“I suppose that’s a good point,” Byron said slowly.

When they got deep enough into the caves, she gestured for Byron to take a seat.

“Well? What is it?”

Melissa made a deep sigh. “You remember that talk we had here back on Halloween?”

“...Yes?” he answered slowly. “About acting better towards others, right? Why? Have I done something wrong?”

“Not really, no.” Her fingers drummed against her wand holster, “But, unfortunately, we need to approach things differently, from now on…”

“My parents want me to keep my head down around Karkaroff and the Durmstrang kids,” Byron confessed to Tracey. “We already had a near miss with my dad in Azkaban, and they don’t want to risk something happening while that lot is walking freely around the school.”

“Okay…” Tracey said slowly. “That makes sense, I guess. But what does that have to do with how you are with the firsties? Is it because they don’t go near the Durmstrang students?”

“Huh. I never thought of it that way.” He gave a light smirk, “That’s an extra bonus, really.”

“Well, if it’s not that, then what is it? Why have you started helping everyone out?”

“Oh, that?” he gave a scoffing laugh. He leaned in a conspiratorial fashion, and the girls did the same. “I’ve been thinking, Slytherin’s usually a hotbed for followers of the dark arts, right? So I figure, if we have leaders in the House who are against that stuff, they make good role models and keep other people away from the Dark, right? So, what better way to be a leader for Slytherins than by making Prefect and Head Boy?”

A pause followed that declaration. Melissa gave a snort, while Tracey stared at him with a look between incredulous and annoyed. “So… all this stuff you’ve been doing, talking differently and being more helpful and stuff… it’s just so you can make Prefect?”

“Exactly!” he whispered excitedly.

Tracey rolled her eyes heavily. “Unbelievable.” 

When the eye roll ended, it landed on Melissa, who gave a shrug, “I told you you weren’t going to like what he told me.”

Tracey groaned, then asked, “So it’s all been an act, then?”

“No,” he pouted, “not all of it. I mean, ignoring the junior Death Eaters is frustrating, but I don’t want to worry my mum and dad. That said, the firsties aren’t so bad, and I like hanging out with my friends and doing homework with them. So it’s not like I’m pretending, I’m just… being better and trying to be more open-minded, you know?”

Tracey gave a huff, elongating an, “I guess,” with much annoyance. “I’m glad you’re not being imperio’ed or something, but I was hoping for something at least a little exciting.”

“More exciting than a Slytherin-y way of using niceness to be sneaky?” Melissa asked teasingly.

The other two laughed at the descriptor, and Tracey conceded, “Yeah, I guess you have a point.”

Wednesday January 25th, 1995

Melissa gaped in shock as Amy and Rusalka described Day One of Thoreau’s Duelling tournament. “Fred got disqualified?! How?! Why?!”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Rusalka whispered conspiratorially, “but he and George have a pair of horned serpents! Mad-Eye was able to spot them even though they were invisible, and caught one of them helping Fred against Mathieu Laurent.”

“Oh, shit. That’s too bad. I guess having familiars helping you is against the rules?”

“Of course it is!” Rusalka exclaimed.

Amy, meanwhile, took in Melissa’s reaction with an annoyed sigh, saying, “You already knew about the horned serpents, didn’t you?”

Melissa gave a solid blink, absorbing her reaction, before answering, “Yeah, a few of us saw them wandering a Greenhouse last year. Though I didn’t know they belonged to anyone until around Christmas Hols. In my defense, Sierra knows about them, too.”

Amy rolled her eyes, “Well, obviously, she and George are dating. I figure Johnson knows about them, too.”

Oh yeah, George took Sierra to the ball. I barely noticed that.

“Probably, but she found out at the same time as me, and that was a year ago.” 

Annoyed groans followed.

Friday January 27th, 1995

“So,” Melissa gave a grand gesture as the others approached for lunch, “am I in the presence of a Duelling Champion?”

“Indeed you are,” said Rusalka, taking a small bow as the others applauded her achievement.

Jacinth, Melissa noticed, gave a small, sad nod, before turning away from the spectacle to congratulate Cassius for his own qualification.

“Congratulations,” Melissa said with a beaming smile. “So you’ll be in the Junior Tournament this summer? Who else qualified?”

“I am; as have Cassius, Diggory and Hawkworth.”

Melissa gave an impressed whistle, then asked, “Not Vance?”

“Brodny kicked her ass early on,” Amy said with a grin.

“Ohh,” she gave Rusalka a wicked smirk, “so you might have to fight your cousin in the official tournament. Nervous?”

It took a genuine moment of thought on the redhead’s part before she answered, “I’d be surprised if I won, but I won’t go down without a fight.”

The others gave agreeable nods.

Then a quiet voice added, “You can beat him in a duel.”

The others turned in shock, eyeing Jacinth (and his words) with surprise.

He wasn’t looking at them, though, eyes glued to his plate. After a beat of quiet, he gave a hapless shrug, “Just saying what everyone else is thinking. That’s all.”

Everyone else gave quiet nods. Rusalka, quietly absorbing his words, took a nervous breath. Her face warred with conflicting emotions. Finally, she spoke two words as equally quiet as his own had been, “Thanks, Jace.”

Neither spoke after that. They did not speak to each other for the rest of the day, nor in the days that followed. It was a quiet truce, everyone agreed, but a truce nonetheless; one everyone was happy to accept as life moved on.

Chapter Text

Tuesday February 14th, 1995

On the morning of Valentine's Day there was no music, nor was there a parade of a dozen teamsters to give gifts among the crowd. People whispered anxiously, hoping that by lunchtime their gifts would be received. What came, instead, was a parliament of owls. Each owl delivered a mass of cards decorated with pink ribbons and yellow roses, and on the cards read thusly:

Dear students and faculty of the Triwizard Schools,

It is our pleasure to invite you to this year’s VATIC event! 

In honour of international friendship, we are hosting a variety of social activities where you can celebrate the love you share with your friends!

The event begins at 4:30pm at the South end of the Black Lake. Dress Warmly.

Warm beverages and activity wear will be provided.

“A whole event!” Megan whistled as she finished reading her invitation, “Wow, they really went big this year!”

Harry gave a weak smile at the comment. Guilt was one thing, but seeing an invitation like this, Harry couldn’t help but feel a whole host of regret and longing to be a part of this year’s show.

A nudge pushed at him lightly. “Hey, don’t let it get to you, Harry,” said Kevin. “This way we all get to spend the day together!”

“This will be so much fun!” Hannah said excitedly.

Others nodded in agreement, including Harry. “You’re right. …I wonder what they’re planning?”

That morning whispers ran amuck during History of Magic; with Professor Binns oblivious as ever as he gave his lesson. Potions, by contrast, was dead silent with Professor Snape glaring darkly at any who would dare speak on this love-filled day. Tracey was notably attracting his ire. With her role as Co-President of VATIC, the man acted as if everything “wrong” with today could be pinned squarely on her shoulders. Poor Tracey, Harry thought as Snape snapped at the girl for the fourth time that class, he’s being a complete berk. It’s so stupid. After all, it’s not like she’s making him come to today’s event.

“Professor Snape, will you be joining us this evening?” Melissa asked sweetly, a yellow rose in her hand as an offering to the dark and dour professor.

OH GOD, SHE HAS A DEATH WISH! Over a dozen thoughts screamed.

Fred, George, and Corin, meanwhile, had to wrestle back snickers.

“I would sooner drown myself in the lake than willingly attend one of your inane celebrations.”

“Fair,” she conceded casually. “Well, that works for me. The Headmaster made a bet saying that, if you join in on the festivities, he’ll make a new rule about hair dye use.”

That caught Snape’s attention, and his suspicion. “...And if you were to win the bet?”

“Then I get to personally pick and style his hair for the Second Task, beard included.”

The boys were openly laughing now.

“I see,” the man said slowly, obviously not believing Melissa at her word. “Take your seat, Bennett. The sooner we begin today’s potion, the better.”

“Yes sir,” she retreated with a smile. Well, we’ll see what happens.

When he arrived to the South side of Black Lake, Harry stared openly at what could only be described as a miniature village!

There were stalls and wooden shacks built all around the edge of the lake. Each stall showed off signs for warm beverages, chips, and snack foods of all sorts. The shacks, he noted, were a little unusual in style. There were doors both lake-side and along the path, and each had a little chimney. Further away from the lake, there were other constructions in the form of long laneways leading to box-like structures. For what purpose, Harry wasn’t fully sure.

The lake, itself, was strange too. The water near the cabins was normal, yet closer to the school a part of the lake was completely frozen over! It shouldn’t have been possible with the weather being above 0℃; however, as they approached the venue a chill suddenly swept him. It grew so cold that the rain, which had been steady on the way over, turned into a sprinkling of snow. The entire area, it seemed, was under some sort of enchantment, one much like what was seen at the Yule Ball, only far more real, as Harry could best put it.

“Look at that!” Justin cried cheerfully. “They made a skating rink!”

They did? Harry looked back at the ice, following Justin’s pointing finger towards a stall stating Skates For Rent . Huh. Would you look at that!

“NO WAY!” a voice shouted from ahead of them. “MAGICAL BOWLING?! THAT EXISTS?!”

“LET’S DO A ROUND, COME ON!” another voice cried, and soon a group of younger teens went running towards the distant laneways.

More people started running as news of the activities were shouted across the lawn. His group followed Justin out to the skating rink, where they found Annabel manning the skates stall.

“Ystävän Päivä and Happy Friend’s Day!” she cried happily, “What size can I get you all?”

They looked at her oddly. “Don’t you mean Happy Valentine’s Day?” Hannah asked.

“No, but also yes,” Annabel answered with a cheeky grin. “We’re doing the Finnish style of Valentine’s Day, Ystävän Päivä, which is all about friendship. Hence, Friend’s Day. So how about those skates?”

The group made their different orders, each getting a pair and leaving their own boots behind. Harry was rather surprised that they actually had loads of skates available. He couldn’t imagine how they even got all of these for today.

As he laced up his skates, he heard a soft call of, “Hi, Harry.”

He looked up and smiled immediately. “Hey, Cho! Are you going skating, too?”

“I am,” Cho nodded happily. “Maybe we can skate together?”

“I’d like that.” Then Harry flinched, “Fair warning, this is my first time, actually. The others are going to teach me and Wayne how to skate.”

“Oh,” she said slowly. “Well… how about I teach you?”

“You’d do that?” his expression brightened. “Sure! That’d be great!”

He only had to wait a few minutes for Cho to grab a pair of skates and join him on the bench. Once they were ready, they walked unsteadily towards the ice. “How do you even walk like this, let alone skate?”

Cho giggled at his frustration, “You get used to it fast. It’ll be much easier once we’re on the ice. See,” she stepped onto the ice, pushing forward to get both feet on balance. She turned back to him and offered both of her hands. “Here, just hold tight to me and keep steady on your feet.”

Harry stepped forward, his legs shaking and sputtering as he got onto the ice. He nearly fell as he tried a third step forward, but Cho managed to hold him steady. Keeping hold of him, she guided Harry through the basics of skating. It took a couple of tries before Harry was able to move even a few metres across the ice. It frustrated him a little; but as Cho cried, “See, you’re doing it,” he found that her encouragement lightened him and gave him the courage to push forward. It took a little more coaxing before he was willing to let go of her hands; but once he did he managed to keep skating without much stumbling.

With her hands now free, Cho was able to show off a bit on the ice. She moved fluidly across the ice; weaving and twirling and leaping into spinning jumps. It was awe-inspiring watching Cho as she practically danced her way through the rink.

“You’re amazing at this,” Harry said in awe.

“Thanks,” Cho said with a blush. “I go skating with my parents every Christmas. I sometimes go with friends, too. It’s a lot of fun.”

“I believe that,” said Harry. “Maybe I can join you next time?”

Cho lifted into a warm smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

They continued skating for the next half hour. They skated mostly with each other, then broke off to spend time with their friends; a good balance of both holidays, in Harry’s opinion.

As it got darker, Harry’s group decided to stop for drinks. Luna was manning a stall for tea and hot cocoa, while Tracey was manning the stall for mulled cider and warm butterbeer. Enchanted lanterns started to glow by the time they grabbed snacks from Ben, Cody, and Jamie’s stalls. They ended up sharing a table with Ornella, Jean-Luc, Madeline, and a Durmstrang boy. The four spoke amicably with the fourth years, and soon accepted an invitation to join them for a round of magical bowling.

The line up to go bowling was long; but with friendly chats and instructions of how to go bowling, the time managed to fly by. Soon enough, they were directed by Dean over to one of the lanes.

“The game’s easy enough,” Dean explained. “One ball per person per turn, and magic’s set up so that the pins will go back in place after seven seconds.” He handed them a card to use as a score pad. “Just write your names on here and keep track of how many pins you knock over. The highest score after five rounds wins!”

“One ball and five rounds?” Kevin asked with confusion. “Innit usually two balls for ten?”

“Mate,” said Dean, his head gesturing over to the line of people waiting to play, “do you really think we all have time for that?”

“Oh,” Kevin flushed slightly, mollified, “yeah, that makes sense.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, you lot enjoy your game!”

Harry ended up in charge of the scorepad as he was the most familiar with the rules of the game. He wrote down everyone’s names (including Rurik, the Durmstrang boy), for a total of nine players. He, Kevin, and Justin went first to show the others how to handle the ball properly; though the others managed to pick up the game with… few mishaps. 

Thank goodness VATIC had the sense to put up shield wards between each lane, Harry thought as Rurik went hard on a swing, causing the ball to go flying and bounce dangerously down the laneway. …Though it did take six pins down in the process, so… good on him? 

In a surprising twist, the game ended with Jean-Luc taking the highest score out of the group, followed by Wayne who managed to pull off a strike in the fourth round. The muggle-raised and muggleborns of the group hadn’t expected that outcome, but amicably congratulated Wayne for his victory (or teased him with jokes about “beginner’s luck”.)

Though the game was over, all nine agreed to continue hanging out and walked down to the shacks dotting the coastline. He saw that Parvati and Byron were manning stalls for small groups of shacks, while Astoria and Stephen were each manning one of two, taller buildings. When they got close enough to Parvati’s sign, the fourth years looked at it in confusion.

“...Girl’s Saunas?” Kevin read slowly.

“That’s right!” Parvati said cheerfully. “We have saunas for girls and boys. If you go to Byron, over there, he can give you boys slippers and towels to change into. There’s also extra towels for anyone who wants to do an ice dip.”

What? Harry was very confused and unfamiliar with the whole concept.

Rurik, however, was unfazed. In fact, he seemed excited, “Do you have branches, too?”

“We do!” Parvati answered. “You’ll find them inside the saunas, along with everything else you need, plus a place to change.”

“Hold on-!” Justin shouted, “if this is- then that’s-” he pointed to the distant shack Stephen was in front of, and everyone watched in bewilderment as Hagrid walked out of the tall building. He was sweating profusely, and walking unsteady, though his face looked blissfully relaxed.

Parvati snickered at his call and everyone else’s reaction. “Yes, we made separate ones for the staff. Between you and me, I’m glad for it.”

“Same here!” Justin half-shouted. He cringed against his own reaction, and everyone started to laugh in agreement.

“Agreed,” Madeline said through her laughter. “If I were to be undressed near the Madame, I would die of being embarrassed!”

“Oh,” Ornella gasped, “that would be terrible!” She then regarded Parvati and casually asked, “Do we have no clothes like a true sauna, or…?”

“No clothes?!” Hannah gasped.

Parvati, however, wasn’t surprised by the question. “Technically yes, but we have light robes for people to use for the ice dips or if they want to protect their modesty.”

“That’s okay,” Ornella said with a nod. “One towel for me.”

“You should do ice dip,” Rurik encouraged her. “It’s good for the body.”

Ornella laughed, “Living in this school is cold enough already! I prefer to stay warm, thank you!”

More laughter and teases passed between the group. Eventually, though, the boys broke off to grab towels and robes from Byron’s stall. Going into the changeroom, Harry hesitated at the idea of going starkers. However, as Rurik and Jean-Luc advised that it’s normal practice for saunas, (“but be sure to use the towel so that no skin touches on the furniture,” Rurik advised - “and we have to take a shower first, anyways, so what’s the harm?” Jean-Luc added), he eventually caved for the sake of authenticity.

They left the shower room and walked into a wall of steam. Harry’s glasses fogged up immediately, and he stumbled slightly as he caught his bearings. Still holding onto his towel and ice-dipping robes in hand (and, oh, how he was already regretting that decision), he walked blindly with the others as they climbed up the wooden benches and found open spots. He could vaguely hear the fluttering of towels, and followed their lead to lay the towels for each of them to sit on. Once his hands were free, he quickly moved to defog his glasses and settle in.

After an evening of wintery cold, the heat on his skin felt like a blessing! In silent reverence, they all absorbed the magic of the sauna; the heat slowly seeping into their bones; deep breaths of cedar wood filled their nostrils; sweat and steam mingling, denying any risk of cool wind; and low sizzles from the water-ladelled coals.

Minutes passed. Harry felt his mind calm to nothingness, like the lull of occlumency and meditation. …Only much more relaxing in comparison. His eyes closed. He could probably fall asleep here. That would certainly be nice, he thought. Then his brain quieted once more.

A slight rustling reached his ears. Then there was a pause, until a sudden THWACK made his eyes open in alarm. What-?

He and his friends all fell to bewilderment as Rurik whipped his back a second time with a flog made of birch leaves.

“Mate,” Wayne said incredulously, “what the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I am doing vasta, to help my blood flow,” Rurik said, his tone having a hint of confusion at being asked the question. “It’s part of how you do saunas. Want to try when I’m done?”

“...No thanks,” Wayne answered. Justin was the same.

Kevin was a lot slower to answer, “I guess? What about you, Harry?”

“...I suppose?” Harry answered with the same hesitancy as Kevin.

Overall, Harry ended up not being a fan of the process; but he was somewhat proud of himself for trying it out.

…Until the time came for an ice-dip.

“Just run fast to the water,” Jean-Luc encouraged, somewhat wincing as he added, “I know it doesn’t sound fun, but it will make coming back inside here feel amazing.”

“If you say so,” Harry said with resignation.

Jean-Luc opened the back door leading towards Black Lake, and the boys ran!

Unbeknownst to the celebrating Magicals, a long, layering enchantment was continuing its work throughout the night. Melissa sat alone under a disillusionment. In her hands, a balalaika softly played, bringing winter and light to the festivities beyond.

A light crunch of snow-steps reached her senses. Glancing to her side, she found Headmaster Dumbledore standing nearby with his hands clasped, admiring the little village of Ystävän Päivä.

“What a remarkable night,” Dumbledore spoke, as if to himself. “VATIC has certainly outdone themselves this year. Why, if I didn’t know better, one would think all of this magic was done with ritual work.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “Of course, such practices are illegal. I’m sure they found some other way to create such a spectacular, area-wide, effect.”

Yep. He’s definitely talking to me, she thought, and warning me to stay hidden. …I doubt that that would work against “Moody”, but hopefully he’s not anywhere nearby.

“Such a shame Severus couldn’t stay,” Dumbledore continued casually. “I was so sure he would find a way to enjoy himself; alas, I suppose that offer to experience the sauna was too much for him.”

Melissa nearly choked as she suppressed a laugh.

Holy fuck, and I thought I had balls, daring him to come here!

“Ah, well, it can’t be helped. …I suppose that’s enough musing for now. I believe Miss Bennett will be doing a round of bonfire songs shortly. I do hope they’ve provided marshmallows.”

We have, she answered silently. Not that Melissa will actually take part in that portion of the evening for another… whenever everyone decides to call it a night. Plus a time-turnered nap. All this magic has me knackered!

After a long time-turn and well-earned nap, Melissa returned to their village of Ystävän Päivä. As the eldest and most magically powerful member of VATIC, she was in charge of bringing about this Winter Wonderland. Her “public” role, however, is to be in charge of the campfire songs venue. Setting up the large bonfire and smaller campfires was easy enough. She didn’t even bother using magic for the latter part (not that she had the energy reserves for it). Neither did she need magic to prep sausages, s’mores ingredients, and roasting sticks along a picnic table. Instruments, on the other hand …yeah, that needed magic. That said, she was willing to cheat and have house elves bring hand drums, guitars, and such from the Music Club. (Nobody at VATIC needs to know, right?)

Unlike other venues at this event, Melissa was driven to make this a fully informal event. There were no real rules, no structure - really, as long as no one catches on fire, people are free to do as they please!

Saves her the energy, to boot.

As twilight faded, people began to draw towards the flames. Younger students happily took to roasting marshmallows, and gasped greedily over the explanation of s’mores. There weren’t many older students around, however. In fact, it took some time until any of her friends came around. The first instance being in the form of Astrid and a couple of her friends.

“Hyvää Ystävänpäivä,” Melissa greeted cheerfully.

“Hyvää Ystävänpäivä,” Astrid answer much more slowly, blinking at the British girl’s casual use of Finnish.

“Vot do ve do here?” Vaino asked casually. 

“We eat, and we play,” said Melissa, gesturing to the instruments at the second table.

“Play?” It took a translation from Astrid before Vaino could understand her meaning. “Ah! Play, yes. …But vot do ve play?”

“Whatever you like,” Melissa answered. “What songs do you like singing around a campfire?”

After hearing a translation of her question, the boy’s face grew to a grin, “I have idea!”

Twenty minutes later

Children cheered and percussion wheezed as another (possibly bawdy) Russian song finished. Vaino, at the lead of the music, panted as he grinned. People cheered him on for more, the impromptu dancers most especially, but he raised a hand and shouted, “I’m done! I rest! Someone take zis from me!” he gestured to the guitar in his hands, raising it up in offering.

“I’ll take it!” Lev and Armand called simultaneously. Both wizards looked at each other, then laughed as their mirroring dawned on them.

“You go first,” Lev offered, which Armand accepted graciously. 

Armand then led the group through two French songs, songs which a surprising handful of people from each school were able to sing along to. When he finished, the guitar was passed over to Lev (with the promise to give it to Jason when he’s done).

“I don’t know if many know zis one,” he began, “but zose who do, do sing along!”

Lev then proceeded to strum the guitar and play… Tetris?

She certainly thought he was playing the tetris theme; and yet, Lev had lyrics.

“Ой полным полна моя кoробушка

Есть и ситец, и парча.

Пожалей, душа-зазнобушка,

Молодецкого плеча.

Выйду, выйду в рожь высокую,

Там до ночки погожу,

Как завижу черноокую,

Все товары разложу.”

To be completely honest, Melissa was too distracted by the Tetris similarity that she hadn’t tried at first to grasp the lyrics. She did catch some words on the second verse. Something about waiting until it’s night?

“Цены сам платил немалые,

Не торгуйся, не скупись,

Подставляй-ка губки алые,

Ближе к молодцу садись.”

As he was midway into that third verse, singing about red lips, Lev turned his attention to Melissa; not so much singing in general as he was singing at her. Making her realize- Oh! This is another bawdy one, isn’t it?

…Well two can play at this game!

Well-knowing the melody at this point, Melissa grabbed a tambourine from the table and made her way over to him. She started to play, dancing seductively as she moved. His eyes full of mirth, Lev joined in on the dance, his words carrying beyond comprehension, though his expressions were translation enough.

People whistled and cheered as the song continued. Those that understood Russian were particularly loud for the next few verses. Their boisterousness brought laughter to her lips as she danced along. After some time, she noticed that a few muggleborn were humming and whistling along. Clearly she wasn’t the only person to catch on to the familiar melody. When it ended, there were whoops all around; the young couple, themselves, laughing along with them. 

His song now done, Lev passed the guitar off to Jason (only to trade the guitar for holding Melissa in his arms.) There, the two jigged into a dance as Jason played a rendition of Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire. They weren’t alone, as soon other couples joined to dance around the bonfire. The poetic coincidence was not lost on her as she joined the chorus, gesturing to the flames as Lev spun her around.

They took a rest after the song ended, Lev still holding onto her so that she ended up in his lap. She adjusted herself as she was wrapped in his arms; and giggled as his breath tickled her ear.

“I know today is different from ozzer years you celebrate zis,” he murmured into her ear, “but Happy Valentine's Day, Melissa.” He kissed at the spot where her ear met her cheek, eliciting more giggles out of her. 

Turning her head, she kissed him on the cheek, uttering, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too,” before kissing him again on the lips. The two settled into their seats, singing and stealing kisses for the rest of the evening.

Wednesday February 15th, 1995

Blissful hums and groans echoed in the steam-filled space as the members of VATIC finally took a chance to enjoy their constructed saunas.

“Thank the gods we can finally use these,” Parvati moaned happily.

“Aaaaaamen!” agreed Annabel.

Tracey then raised a lazy arm. “As co-president of VATIC,” she began, “I hereby say we petition Dumblesnore into letting us keep these saunas around.”

“Seconded!” cried Astoria.

“Third!” added Luna.

“Then it’s official!” Tracey proclaimed, to the reaction of lazed cheers.

“I’m seeing him on Friday,” Melissa offered, “I say we give him the petition then.”

Everyone thought that to be odd, yet only the second years had the energy to raise their heads and give her an odd look. “You’re seeing the Headmaster?” Astoria asked. “Why?”

“I won a bet,” she answered in vague truth. “I have to cash it in before the Second Task starts.”

“He likes purple, gold, and silver,” Luna said helpfully. Odd. Melissa couldn’t recall telling Luna about what the bet entails.

“Speaking of the Second Task,” Parvati considered, “have Harry and Cedric figured out anything about what they have to do, Annabel?”

“I know they’ve both solved the egg,” Annabel answered, “but it’s hard to tell what it’s all about. Harry’s been researching invisible creatures, and Diggory’s been practicing with his friends. He’s been racing up and down the staircases, dodging spellfire. That said, both of them have asked the house elves to bake them lots of sweets. Their entire routines are really odd.”

“Fleur’s routine is somewhat similar,” Luna commented. “Though she’s also practicing with a lyre and perfume.”

“Perfume?” Tracey asked.

“A lyre?” Astoria said excitedly. “I didn’t know Delacour plays the lyre, too!”

“Perhaps I can introduce you?” Luna offered. She then took a ladle of water to pour over the rocks. “Though we should wait until after next Sunday. She’s been awfully stressed of late.”

“No doubt,” Tracey said with a huff, one that timed well with the hiss of steam. “I can only imagine how tough the task will be after they’ve already faced dragons.”

“Say, Mel,” Parvati asked softly, “have you Seen anything about the task?”

The other girls went quiet, waiting with baited breath for an answer.

“It’s hard to say…” After all, Fudge wants to avoid a ‘hidden death’, so it’s not going to be a maze or underwater task, right? Maybe? The rule changes haven’t been very consistent. “One thing I do know is that Veela and cold water don’t mix.”

The answer was vague and half-relevant enough that the girls looked at her oddly. Luna, in true Luna fashion, smiled gently after a moment of pondering. “The key to each key,” she mused softly, repeating the line Harry told Melissa of the Task.

So Fleur told her the riddle? Interesting. Though what makes her think water has something to do with the key part?