FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 25 of 37

[geri_chan]

Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 25 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~8,280
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thought
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Summer Vacation (Part 1, Part 2), For Old Time's Sake (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5), Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II) (Part 1, Part 2), Return of the Raven (Part 1, Part 2), Phoenix Reborn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Summary: Harry comes up with an idea to cure Bane's curse, and Draco comes up with a very creative idea to help Slytherin win their Quidditch match against Gryffindor.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24

***

"...So I got to thinking," Harry explained excitedly to Blackmore, "maybe what we need is some good luck to cancel out the bad luck."

"Well, there are spells that cause good luck, but I don't think they're strong enough--"

"What about Hob?" Harry asked eagerly, as Blackmore blinked and fell silent, looking startled. "I mean, you said once that he was a living good luck charm." She remained silent and Harry's hopes fell. "I guess it was a dumb idea, huh? Ron was right; we could never think of anything that you and the other Professors hadn't already thought of."

"No, Harry," Blackmore said, much to his surprise. "It's a very good idea, and one I hadn't thought of. Hmm...let me talk to Severus." She called Professor Snape through the fireplace in her office, and he arrived a moment later.

Snape listened to Harry's suggestion, then leaned against Blackmore's desk, frowning thoughtfully as he absent-mindedly traced his thin lips with one finger. Bane crept forward and began sniffing at Snape's pockets. He stuck his nose in one pocket, causing Snape to jump with a start, and Blackmore grabbed the bunny and firmly hauled him away from the Potions Master.

"No!" she scolded. "Candy is bad for you in this form!" She told Professor Snape, "He got into some candy the students forgot in the classroom one day, and gave himself a stomachache." She turned back to her familiar and said, "And you didn't like the tonic Madam Pomfrey gave you one bit."

To his surprise, Harry saw that the normally dour Potions Master was trying very hard not to laugh, particularly when Blackmore placed a carrot in front of Bane and said, "Here, if you're hungry, you can have this for a snack." Bane stared at the carrot with such visible disgust on his face that Snape nearly lost control and let out a muffled little snort of laughter, which he quickly covered with a coughing fit when Blackmore turned around to glare at him.

"Are you ill, Severus?" Blackmore asked in a cold voice. "You seemed to have developed a sudden cough."

"Ahem, I'm fine, thank you," Snape said, clearing his throat. "I must have breathed in some ashes when I came through the fireplace," he added with an air of obviously false innocence.

"Remus does the wide-eyed innocent look far better than you do, Severus," Blackmore said caustically.

"Well, getting back to Potter's idea," Snape said, hastily changing the subject, "I must admit that it does have some merit. I don't know if it will work, but it's worth a try."

Bane looked up hopefully, and his mistress said, "Yes, I agree. Certainly nothing else we've tried has worked. We were going to Sirius's tonight for dinner, anyway, so we can try and remove the curse then."

"You're going to see Sirius tonight?" Harry asked wistfully. "I don't suppose--"

"Students aren't allowed off-campus without special permission, and you're still being punished Mr. Potter," Blackmore said sternly, but relented just a little. "But Sirius is coming to your Quidditch match next weekend, so you'll see him soon. And if your idea works, I'll restore...let's see, twenty-five points to Gryffindor and lift your detention."

Snape scowled. "There's no need to reward him for undoing the damage that he caused in the first place."

"Yes, but it is a clever idea, and should be rewarded--if it works," Blackmore said, emphasizing the "if." "And I told the three of them that their detention would last for as long as Bane remained in bunny form." She grinned. "I think that may have given Mr. Potter a little added incentive."

"Yes, ma'am!" Harry said fervently.

"Don't get your hopes up too high, Mr. Potter," Snape said sourly. "We don't know whether this will actually work or not."

Blackmore glared at him. "Honestly, Severus, one would almost think that you want Bane to be stuck in this form!"

Snape's lips twitched slightly as he looked down at the black bunny, but his expression quickly turned sober as his former teacher continued to glower at him. "Well then, I'll see you later tonight, Branwen," he said, and retreated back through the fireplace.

"You're dismissed, Mr. Potter," Blackmore said. "I'll let you know what happens."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, and left the office, devoutly hoping that his idea would work.

***

"Ooh, he's so cute!" Tonks squealed as she stroked the bunny in Branwen's arms. Bane snapped at her, and she only just barely managed to pull her hand back in time to avoid being bitten. "Still has the same nasty temper, though, I see."

Meanwhile, Sirius's face was turning red and contorting itself violently as he tried to hold back his laughter; Branwen glared at him. Finally, he ran out of the room, but they could hear, "HA HA HA HA HA!" echoing from the down the hallway, which awakened the portraits, and soon Mrs. Black was screaming, "Begone from the house of my fathers!"

Branwen sighed irritably, and Lupin said helpfully, "Well, at least he had the decency to leave the room before he started laughing."

Fred and George eyed Bane with great interest, but were careful to keep a safe distance between themselves and the rabbit's teeth. "Hmm," said George thoughtfully. "We could do a variation on the Canary Creams. A Bunny Butterscotch, maybe? Or a Raspberry Rabbit? A Rocky Road Rabbit?"

Branwen was giving them an evil look, and Molly nervously snapped, "Fred!"

"I'm George, Mum."

"I don't care which one you are, knock it off!"

"Before Branwen turns YOU into a rabbit," Arthur whispered into his son's ear. "Permanently."

Both boys gulped and turned pale. "Ah, well, it probably wouldn't sell, anyway," Fred said hastily.

Snape was grinning in a rather nasty way, clearly imagining the Weasley twins running afoul of Branwen and being turned permanently into bunnies.

"Severus!" Lupin scolded.

"What?" Snape said in a wounded voice. "I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to," Lupin replied dryly.

Meanwhile, Sirius had managed to get himself under control and returned with Hob, who looked nervous at being under the scrutiny of so many wizards. Branwen knelt down on the floor and held out the bunny to him. Hob looked down and frowned at it. "Yes, that is a very nasty mess, indeed, all knotted up like a bunch of string."

"Can you help us?" Branwen asked.

"Hob does not know," the little hob replied. "But Hob will try." He held out his arms, and Branwen placed Bane in them. Hob sat down on the floor, holding the bunny on his lap, gently stroking it. Bane gradually relaxed, and the bad-tempered look left his face, making him look as docile and placid as a real pet bunny.

"Let's try it now," Branwen said softly to Lupin and Snape, and they nodded. Branwen cast the Aperio spell, and each of them touched their wands to a spell-thread: Branwen took the red Impediment thread, Lupin took the blue Rat-Face Hex, and Snape took the yellowish thread of the Curse of Ill Wishing. As they lifted their wands, the spell-threads stuck to them and began unraveling. They worked very slowly and carefully, pausing when they came to a place where the three threads were snarled together in a particularly complex knot. Hob carefully reached out and touched the knot, tugging gently at the threads, painstakingly working to loosen the knot, as if the spell-threads were nothing more than a handful of string. He did not completely untangle the knot, but managed to loosen it enough that the three wizards were able to carefully unweave the spell-threads from each other. They continued in this manner, with Hob's good luck apparently serving to cancel out the Curse of Ill Wishing enough to loosen the tangle of threads. It took nearly an hour, but finally the threads completely separated, and each of the wizards held one long thread of a single color attached to their wands.

They jerked their wands upward and simultaneously shouted, "Finite Incantatum!" The three threads pulled loose from the rabbit's body and vanished in a puff of smoke. When the smoke cleared, there was a slightly-dazed looking raven sitting in Hob's lap.

"Bane!" Branwen cried joyfully, scooping up her familiar and hugging him tightly--a little too tightly. The bird let out a loud, strangled squawk. "Oops, sorry about that," she said apologetically, loosening her hold on him. The bird squawked again; this time it sounded almost like a sigh of relief. Bane hopped up and took his rightful place on his mistress's shoulder.

"Well, I'll be damned," Snape muttered incredulously. "Potter's idea worked." Lupin grinned.

"Thank you, Hob!" Branwen said gratefully, and the little household spirit blushed a little.

"It was nothing. A hob's magic is very small."

"A hob's magic is limited," Branwen corrected, "but it takes a very powerful sort of magic to keep a household running smoothly and contentedly. We couldn't have done it without you. Thank you." She kissed the little man on the cheek, and his face turned bright red.

"You're welcome," Hob mumbled, looking embarrassed but pleased, and vanished.

The wizards sat down at the dinner table together, and Sirius broke open a bottle of wine to celebrate the lifting of the curse. As Sirius handed a glass of wine to Branwen, Bane reached down and pecked his hand sharply.

"Ouch!" Sirius said, nearly dropping the glass; a little of the wine slopped over the side and spilled onto the tablecloth. He rubbed his wounded hand, saying, "What did you do that for, you ungrateful bird?"

"Probably payback for you laughing at him earlier," Snape said with a wicked grin.

"Yeah, tell me you didn't laugh at him, too," Sirius said sullenly.

"'A pity it isn't closer to Easter,'" Lupin reminded Snape, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Bane knows better than to bite me," Snape said in a haughty voice as the raven glared at him. "I did just help to remove the curse, and besides..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of candy. Bane cawed eagerly. "Friends?" Snape asked, just the faintest hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Bane nodded eagerly, and Snape tossed the candy across the table, Bane caught it in his beak, tore off the foil wrapper with one foot as he balanced precariously on Branwen's shoulder with the other, and swallowed the piece of chocolate in one bite.

"You mean I have to start bribing the damn bird not to attack me?" Sirius grumbled.

Lupin looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, Severus, when you threatened Bane that day in the workroom not to bite you or he'd never get another treat again..."

"What of it?"

"Didn't you just reveal to your students that the big bad Potions Master is a softie who slips treats to Branwen's pet raven?" Lupin asked with a look of wide-eyed innocence.

Snape looked horrified, and Lupin fought to keep a straight face, but soon doubled over with laughter. "It's not funny, Lupin!" Snape said indignantly.

"S-sorry, Severus," Lupin gasped, but he couldn't stop laughing. Branwen and Tonks were laughing as well, Sirius had a wide--and only slightly vindictive--grin on his face, Fred and George were chuckling, and even Arthur and Molly were struggling not to laugh.

Snape gave them all his best threatening glare, but it cowed only Fred and George, who immediately went pale and ceased their laughter. He had been their teacher for so long that fear of the Potions Master was still an involuntary reflex. "I'll just have to show my students that I'm not a 'softie,' as you put it, Lupin," Snape said in a cold and determined voice. Fred and George shuddered a little, and felt very sorry for Snape's students. "Besides," Snape continued, "they were so out of their minds with fear of Branwen, that I doubt any of them noticed what I said..."

***

"Blackmore's been in a vile mood lately," Theodore said glumly. "I hope they cure her stupid bird soon." He and his friends were sitting in Dylan's room doing their homework.

"If they can't, maybe she'll kill Potter and Weasley and Malfoy," Damien said hopefully. "I thought she was going to, when she saw Bane turned into a bunny!" Then he frowned slightly and said, "I just thought of something."

"What?" Blaise asked curiously.

"When Snape was making fun of Bane, saying he wished it was Easter or something--"

Dylan snickered. "Who would've thought Snape had a sense of humor?"

"--and Bane was about to bite him, Snape said something like, 'If you bite me, Bane, you'll never get another treat from me again!'"

"Did he?" Dylan asked, frowning in thought. "Yeah, come to think of it, he did."

"Snape gives treats to Blackmore's raven?" Blaise asked incredulously. "That's pretty hard to believe!"

Damien laughed. "Yeah, I could picture Hagrid giving treats to the Professor's familiar, maybe even Dumbledore or Lupin, but Snape? A soft touch? For that bird?"

Blaise grinned. "Bane's scary, and has a bad temper, just like Snape! If you think about it, they make a good pair."

"My mum told me they thought Bane was her demon familiar when she was a first-year," Damien said. "Maybe Snape feeds the bird because he's scared of it! You know, to keep it from attacking him."

"Snape?" Theodore snorted. "Scared? Of a BIRD? Now that's ridiculous!"

The four boys laughed, then Dylan said, "But seriously, Snape's not so bad, really." His three friends stared at him incredulously. "Really," Dylan insisted. "I mean he's been pretty nice to me ever since I started here--well, relatively nice, I mean. For Snape."

"Yeah, he does seem to like you," Damien agreed. "Your dad must've been a good friend of his. I suppose it doesn't hurt that you're really great at Potions."

"Snape's all right," Theodore said, surprising the other boys, and himself as well. Suddenly realizing he might have said too much, he hastily added, "I mean, he's no one to cross, but he looks out for the Slytherins."

"Yeah, I guess," Damien said dubiously. "Looks out for Draco, anyway."

"And he puts the Gryffindors in their place," Theodore added firmly.

"Aw, it's not so bad working with the Gryffindors," Damien said.

"Don't let Malfoy hear you say that," Theodore warned.

Damien grinned. "I'm not stupid. But that Ginny Weasley is pretty cute."

Theodore rolled his eyes, and Blaise said with a grin, "She has a jealous boyfriend. Except he's jealous of the wrong guy! Dean Thomas told me and Theo to tell Dylan to stay away from 'his girl.'"

"Me?" Dylan asked, startled. "I've never looked twice at Ginny Weasley! In fact, I got detention for being rude to her at the beginning of term! And she's never flirted with me."

"Unlike Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown," Damien sighed. "It's not fair, that all the prettiest girls in the school are always drooling over you."

"What is your fixation with Gryffindor girls, Pierce?" Theodore growled.

"It's not a Gryffindor fixation," Damien protested. "I admire any beautiful woman. Cho Chang, Padma Patil, and Lisa Turpin are probably the best-looking girls in Ravenclaw, and in Hufflepuff--"

"Never mind," sighed Theodore. "But you know what Malfoy will do to you if he catches your with a Gryffindor girl--"

"I'm not going to touch Ginny Weasley," Damien said, with a tone of righteous indignation in his voice. Then he grinned. "But there's no harm in looking, right?"

Dylan and Blaise laughed, as Theodore sighed again. "Let's hope not," he said darkly.

***

Neville, Hermione, Crabbe, and Goyle were in the Incantations workroom, trying to put their project together. Hermione could have easily performed the summoning by herself, but Blackmore had said that their grade depended on how well they worked together, and quite frankly, it was difficult finding something for Crabbe and Goyle to do. They misspelled the incantations when they tried to copy them from the textbooks, and mispronounced the Latin words when they tried to recite them. At present, they were trying to draw the protective runes on the floor, and not doing very well at that, either. So far, the only useful thing they had done was gather some feathers and herbs for the material components of the spell, which was accomplished by a couple of quick trips to the Owlery and to Snape's office. Since Crabbe and Goyle were Slytherins, Snape had handed the herbs over without giving them a hard time.

"This isn't going to work!" Crabbe said in frustration, throwing the stick of red chalk he had been using across the room. "We're no good at this!"

"I thought we'd be working with Nott and Malfoy," whined Goyle. "I thought they'd be taking care of the runes."

"Well, you're stuck with me and Neville," Hermione retorted, trying--and not quite succeeding--to keep the impatience out of her voice.

"You do it," Crabbe told her. "You're better at it than we are, little Miss Top-of-the-Class-Standings."

"It doesn't matter who's better at it!" Hermione snapped. "Professor Blackmore says we all have to work together or we'll fail!"

"We're gonna fail!" moaned Goyle.

"We have less than a week to get this together!" Neville said anxiously. "My grandmother's going to kill me if I fail a class! How hard can it be to draw a rune? All you have to do is copy the way it's drawn in the book!"

Hermione blinked, looking a little shocked at hearing Neville talk back to anyone, much less a Slytherin he had been terrified of last term. She wasn't sure whether it was the confidence he had gained as a member of Dumbledore's Army or his fear of his grandmother that had fueled his retort.

"Don't you dare try and push me around, you Squib!" Crabbe shouted.

"Who're you calling a Squib?!" Neville shouted back, turning red.

"Enough!" said Hermione, stepping between them. She placed a hand on Neville's shoulder and said in a soothing tone, "We've been working for over an hour; no wonder everyone's getting stressed out. Why don't we all take a break and cool off?" Neville nodded curtly and left the room. Hermione left too, thinking she'd go for a walk, but then remembered that she had left her bookbag in the workroom. She didn't quite trust the Slytherin boys not to mess with it, so she headed back, and to her surprise, found Crabbe and Goyle sitting morosely together in the corner of the room. Goyle's head was bent down and he was sniffling a little as Crabbe patted him on the shoulder.

"Take it easy, Goyle," he was saying.

"We're gonna flunk," Goyle sniffled. "Snape won't help us with Blackmore; he's too scared of her himself. And my mum is gonna tell me I'm stupid and no good, just like my dad..."

"Gregory?" Hermione said softly.

The two boys looked up; Goyle with an expression of horror, and Crabbe with anger. Goyle hastily wiped his face on his sleeve. "What do you want, Mudblood?" Crabbe snapped. "Come to gloat at us?"

Hermione shook her head, but the boys didn't look convinced. "If you tell anybody you saw me crying, I'm gonna kill you!" Goyle threatened.

"Everybody feels sad sometimes," Hermione said sympathetically. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." The Slytherins just looked confused and suspicious. "But I won't tell anyone; my word of honor."

"Not even Potter and your little buddies?" Goyle demanded.

"Not Harry, not anyone," Hermione promised. "My word as a Gryffindor." The boys snorted derisively, but looked slightly appeased. "But look, there's nothing to be upset about...you're having a little trouble with the runes, but I'm sure with some practice--"

"We're stupid, don't you get it?" Goyle shouted. "We're not like you, Miss Smarty-Pants, who gets good grades without even trying! Everybody knows it, even Malfoy--he says he's the brains and we're the brawn, that's all we're good for! We only pass our classes every year because Snape makes sure that we don't flunk out!"

"But Snape's scared of Blackmore," Crabbe said glumly. "Never thought I'd meet a teacher scarier than Snape."

"You're not stupid," Hermione said gently. "It's just...well, some people are better than others at certain things. Everyone is good at something."

"We're good at beating people up," Crabbe said. "That's about it."

"I'm sure there must be something else," Hermione insisted. "Maybe you just haven't found it yet."

The boys stared at her in bewilderment. "Everyone thinks we're stupid, even our mums," Goyle said. "They say we're just like our dads."

Hermione looked distressed. "Why would they say that? I mean, they wouldn't have married your dads if there wasn't something about them that they liked."

The boys looked even more confused, and stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. "What are you talking about, Granger?" Crabbe asked. "Liking has nothing to do with getting married."

"I guess a Mudblood like you wouldn't know about that," Goyle said, but he didn't sound particularly hostile. "In pureblood families, marriages are arranged. Our dads might not be smart, but they're old blood and old money--a good catch for a girl from a lower-ranked family. At least, that's what my Grandma says."

"Your parents didn't love each other?" Hermione asked, looking astounded and a little horrified.

"What's love got to do with it?" Crabbe asked, scratching his head.

"You mean someday you'll have to marry some girl your parents choose, whether you like it or not?"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded. "You mean Muggles get to choose who they marry?" Goyle asked. Hermione nodded. "Wow!"

"Nobody'd choose to marry us," Crabbe muttered. "You'd better be glad we're purebloods, Goyle, or we'd be single for the rest of our lives."

"Maybe you'll meet someone special one day," Hermione said hopefully, and the boys stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

"What do you care, anyway?" Crabbe demanded.

"Professor Blackmore said we have to work together," she reminded him. "And the Sorting Hat said all the Houses have to unite."

"Oh, the Sorting Hat," Crabbe scoffed. "Rubbish."

"Anyway, getting back to the project..." Hermione said.

"We're imcompe--incompa--" Goyle stuttered.

"Incompetent?" Hermione suggested helpfully.

"We're hopeless!" Goyle wailed.

"It's not hopeless," Neville said quietly from the doorway. The other three children looked up, wondering how long he had been standing there. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry I snapped at you before."

"Why're you Gryffindors suddenly being so nice to us?" Crabbe asked suspiciously.

"Because I know what it's like to have everyone call me useless and incompetent," Neville replied solemnly. "You're not the only one who's called me a Squib, you know. And I was pretty hopeless at magic; you've seen me melt cauldrons in Snape's class. But I managed to pass my Potions O.W.L. and get into his advanced class. If I can do that, you can do this project."

"How did you pass, anyway?" Goyle wanted to know.

Neville smiled a little. "It was a lot easier without Professor Snape hovering over me and making me nervous. And now that I know I can do it, he doesn't make me so nervous--well, not as much as before, anyway. And Harry and Hermione helped me a lot, helped me practice my magic. When you keep telling yourself that you can't do it, you're bound to fail. If you start thinking that you can, well...that makes it easier."

"Positive thinking?" Crabbe asked incredulously. "THAT'S your secret?" Neville grinned and nodded.

"Look, let's try this again," Hermione said. "One step at a time, don't rush it. This rune is pretty easy, it's just like writing a 'Y' lying on its side. There, that's good! And this one's like a 'Y' too, only the middle line extends up through the top so it looks sort of like a tree. Good! And this one--"

"That's too hard!" whined Goyle.

"It's not so hard, if you break it down into steps," Hermione said patiently. "First, draw a circle. Good. Then draw another one, overlapping just a little on top of the first circle. Good..."

***

"Our presentation's due on Friday," Draco said. "Is everything ready, Potter?"

Harry looked down at the circle Draco had inscribed on the workroom floor. "Protective circle looks good. I've got the material components: incense, feathers from Hedwig, primrose, vervain, and yarrow. And I've got our gift for the elemental." He held up a brightly colored pinwheel, blew on it gently, and watched the wheel spin around in a blur of color.

"A child's toy," Draco sneered.

"Our textbook says that air elementals--at least the little ones--like toys," Harry said calmly. "Things that you can play with in the wind, like pinwheels or kites."

Draco scowled. "A proper sorcerer wouldn't bother with gifts; he'd just command the elemental to do what he wanted."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe so, but this is the way Blackmore said to do it. If you don't like it, go argue with her."

Of course Draco was not about to do that. "And what about the incantation?" he snapped.

"I've got it here," Ron said, holding up a piece of parchment.

"Have you practiced it?" Draco demanded. "I want to make sure you're not going to summon up a demon by mistake," he said sarcastically.

"Um...let's see. Aeris elementum ap...appella...no, um, appello..."

Draco groaned. "We're never going to summon anything at this rate! Potter, you do it!" Harry took the paper and began reciting the spell, also stumbling over the words.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" Draco complained. "Give it here!" He snatched the parchment out of Harry's hands, and recited the spell perfectly. Harry winked at Ron while Draco was staring down at the paper.

"That's great, Draco," Harry said innocently. "I guess you should read the incantation."

"Guess I'll have to," Draco growled, staring at Harry suspiciously.

"Ron and I will help with the circle, then," Harry said. "It's only fair."

"Damn right," Draco snapped, but he seemed a little confused. "I can't wait for this project to be over!"

"Me neither!" Ron said fervently, and Harry nodded.

***

Theodore Nott's group summoned their elemental without a hitch. Parvati Patil's group had a little trouble when the elemental nearly broke free of their control when Lavender stumbled a little over her words while reciting the incantation. The elemental hurled itself against the invisible barrier of the protective circle, but Millicent shouted out a repelling spell, one Lupin had taught them, and the elemental retreated meekly back to the center of the circle, giving Lavender time to recover.

"You were a little careless there, Miss Brown," Blackmore said after they were done. "But that was quick thinking on your part, Miss Bulstrode. Good recovery, good teamwork. Full marks to your group." The four girls beamed at each other, and Blackmore smiled just a little.

Hermione's group worked together, all four of them inscribing the runes in the protective circle, Goyle, Crabbe, and Neville working very slowly and laboriously. And they recited the spell together, each of them saying one word in turn. Goyle and Crabbe had their spell words written down on flash cards (Hermione's suggestion), one word to each card, and they cast aside the cards once they had finishing reciting their word.

"Aeris," said Crabbe.

"Elementum," said Goyle, pronouncing the word very carefully.

"Aquilo," Neville said.

"Animus," Hermione said.

"Invito," Crabbe said, starting the cycle again. They continued in this manner until the elemental appeared. It took the form of a nearly transparent, fairy-like little woman with wings growing out of her back. Hermione offered it their gift, a peacock tailfeather she had found at the zoo and kept as a souvenir. The elemental admired the brightly-colored feather and accepted it. She then sent it out on its "mission"; Blackmore had told them that air elementals were used mostly to carry messages or gather information. Hermione whispered something to the elemental, who nodded and flew off. She returned a couple of minutes later, perched on Hermione's shoulder, whispering something into her ear, then vanished.

Hermione grinned. "I sent her on a scouting mission to find out what's for dinner tonight. She says it's roast chicken with mashed potatoes and peas, and pumpkin pie with whipped cream for dessert."

"Well, that's very useful to know," Draco muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Apparently Blackmore's hearing was very good. "It was just an example, Mr. Malfoy," she said in a sharp voice. "In time of war, for instance, an air elemental could be used to spy on the enemy camp. But there is no war at Hogwarts, now is there?" The Gryffindors and Slytherins eyed each other uneasily.

"No, ma'am," Draco mumbled.

Blackmore turned back to Hermione's group. "Very good, all of you! I'm especially impressed by how well you all worked together. Full marks."

Goyle and Crabbe beamed at each other; they had never before gotten full marks on any assignment during their entire time at Hogwarts. Draco scowled, but they didn't seem to notice.

"All right, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy. It's your turn."

Bane glared at them balefully from his perch on Blackmore's shoulder; he still had not forgiven them for his little "accident." The boys tried to ignore him as they prepared the spell: Harry set up a small brazier in the center of the room, burning incense, feathers, and herbs, and then the three boys inscribed the protective circle and runes on the floor around it. Finally, Draco recited the incantation, and a little whirlwind rose up out of brazier, forming itself into a birdlike form. It flew to the edge of the circle and hovered there, waiting.

"Will you accept this gift in exchange for a favor?" Harry asked nervously, holding up the pinwheel. The air-bird looked at it curiously, flapping its wings and sending out a little gust of wind that ruffled Harry's hair and made the pinwheel spin. The elemental looked delighted and nodded eagerly. "Then please take this message to Professor Lupin: Harry Potter sends his greetings, and asks if you will attend the Quidditch match this weekend."

The elemental flew off and returned shortly; it opened its beak and Professor Lupin's cheerful voice came out of it: "Greetings, Harry! Congratulations on successfully completing your project! I'll definitely be at the match to cheer your team on--and Draco's too, of course; as a teacher, I can't play favorites." The elemental took the pinwheel from Harry's hand and vanished.

Draco, Harry, and Ron all frowned at Lupin's words, but Blackmore smiled and said, "Well done! Full marks to your group." Then she turned to address the entire class, "I'm very pleased with all of you for working so well together. So you see, it's not impossible for your two Houses to cooperate with each other." The class scowled at her, and to their amazement, she laughed merrily. "Forty points to Gryffindor, and forty to Slytherin. As for homework..." The class groaned, and she grinned at them. "Since you did so well on this project, as a reward I won't assign any homework this weekend. Enjoy the Quidditch match tomorrow. Class dismissed."

The students stared at each other in disbelief, hardly believing their good luck. They practically ran out of the classroom before she could change her mind. Out of habit, Pansy, Millicent, Parvati, and Lavender left together, as if forgetting that they were no longer working together.

"You're going to the match tomorrow, right?" Pansy asked.

"Of course!" Parvati replied. "I'd never miss a chance to see Dylan play!"

"He's sooo handsome in that green uniform," sighed Lavender.

"But who are you going to cheer for, Slytherin or Gryffindor?" Millicent asked.

Parvati and Lavender frowned slightly. "We'll have to cheer for both, I guess," Lavender said.

"Not for Slytherin," Parvati corrected. "Just for Dylan."

"It's the same thing!" Pansy said.

"Not really..."

Draco scowled at the girls as they walked down the corridor, completely absorbed in their conversation. "Women!" he said in a disgusted tone.

"Look on the bright side, Draco," Theodore said. "The Gryffindor girls will be cheering our team on over their own--bet Potter and company won't like that!"

"Cheering Dylan on," Draco corrected sullenly, but then he smiled a little. "Heh, but you're right, the Gryffindor boys won't like that! Hmm...that gives me an idea. Come on, I've got to send my owl out to Hogsmeade..."

***

The next day, when Dylan came down to the Great Hall for breakfast, several girls from various Houses came up to him and said, "We'll be cheering you on today, Dylan!" They each held up a rose with green and silver ribbons tied around it in a jaunty bow. One girl, a pretty dark-haired Hufflepuff in his year group, said, "Good luck!" then kissed him on the cheek and ran away before he had time to react. The other girls squealed and shrieked in outrage, running after her. One Ravenclaw girl ran back and kissed him on the other cheek, saying, "For good luck," then blushed furiously and ran after the others.

"You can kiss me for luck, too!" Damien called after them, but they ignored him. "Come on, Romeo," he said, grabbing Dylan's arm and leading his slightly-stunned friend to the Slytherin table. "We'd better find our seats before you get trampled by a horde of over-enthusiastic fans." As they made their way through the hall, they noticed Pansy, Millicent, and a couple of other Slytherin girls carrying baskets filled with the beribboned roses, walking down the aisles and passing them out to practically every girl in the school.

"What's going on?" Dylan asked Draco, who was sitting at the Slytherin table, looking very smug.

"I'm organizing your fan club, Rosier," Draco said cheerfully. "No need to thank me."

"My WHAT?!"

Draco sighed. "You're the most popular boy in school, Rosier, there's no fighting it. So I decided I might as well put your popularity to good use. Actually, it was Nott's idea..."

Dylan glared at Theodore, who frantically mouthed behind Draco's back, "It wasn't my idea!"

"You see," Draco continued, "we overheard Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown saying they would cheer you on in today's match even though they're Gryffindors. And Nott said that would really tick off Potter and his crew. So I thought, why not build on that, get all the girls to cheer for you, and really unnerve the Gryffindor team? So I sent my owl to Hogsmeade and put in a rush order for these flowers."

"B-but it must have cost a lot," Dylan protested.

Draco flapped his hand in a dismissive gesture. "A mere drop in the bucket, Rosier. I assure you it doesn't put the slightest dent in the Malfoy bank account. And anything that helps us win a game is worth it. Smile nice for your fans, now, Rosier." Another group of girls walked by on their way to their tables, waving their roses at Dylan. "Aren't I a genius, Rosier?"

"Positively brilliant," Dylan said weakly.

"Would you like a rose?" Pansy asked as she worked her way down the Gryffindor table. "Please cheer our Chaser on."

"Roses for Rosier!" Parvati said delightedly. "How clever! How romantic!"

Lavender sniffed her rose. "They smell so pretty!"

"Can a smell be 'pretty'?" Seamus asked sarcastically.

"Of course," she replied, unperturbed.

"Get those things out of here!" Ron shouted. "This is the Gryffindor table! Go peddle your stupid flowers at Slytherin!"

"I want a rose!" shouted a Gryffindor girl.

"Me too!" shouted another.

"Inter-House cooperation," Pansy said smugly as she continued to hand out flowers. "There's nothing wrong with cheering on a friend, no matter what House he's in. I'm sure that's what Professors Blackmore and Lupin would say."

Ron clenched his fists and rose to his feet. "Why you--"

Millicent immediately stepped in front of her friend. "Go ahead, try it, Weasley," she said in a threatening tone. "Hit a girl, show everybody what a big man you are. But this girl hits back." Millicent was tall and what might charitably be called "solidly built."

"Give it up, Weasley," Seamus whispered. "She's got bigger muscles than you."

Ron blushed, and Pansy and Millicent glared at Seamus--and oddly enough, so did Parvati and Lavender.

Hermione said, "Don't be an idiot, Ron! If you start a fight, you won't be allowed to play today, and then what will happen to the Gryffindor team?"

Ron scowled and dropped back into his seat. "Like a rose, Granger?" Pansy asked, holding one out to her. Hermione hesitated, her gaze flickering over to Dylan for a moment.

"You're not going to take one of those, are you?!" Ron howled.

"I...well...I suppose I shouldn't," Hermione said uncertainly. "I mean, it's nothing against Dylan, but..."

Pansy dropped the rose on the table in front of her. "Well, I'll leave this here in case you change your mind."

"Want one, Ginny?" Millicent asked with a sly grin. She'd heard the story about how Ginny's boyfriend was insanely jealous of her working with Dylan.

"I'm a Chaser for Gryffindor," Ginny replied coldly. "I haven't got time to be waving a flower around for--"

"You'd damn well better not take one of those!" Dean snapped.

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked him, in an even frostier voice. "Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Your boyfriend!" Dean said.

"My boyfriend, not my master, and not for much longer if you keep this up," Ginny retorted.

"Keep what up?" demanded Dean.

Ginny ignored him and reached over and snatched a rose out of Millicent's basket. "Thank you very much," she said coolly. "I can't hold this while I'm flying on a broomstick; I don't suppose you have a pin or something I could borrow?" Millicent grinned, reached into her pocket, and handed Ginny a safety pin. "Thank you," Ginny said, pinning the rose to the front of her robe.

Dean spluttered with rage, and Ron turned to Harry saying, "You're not going to let her wear that are you? You're the team Captain--do something!"

Harry was sitting there with his mouth hanging open, too stunned to respond. Ginny was staring at him with a defiant look, almost daring him to try and tell her what to do. Harry wondered when shy little Ginny Weasley had become so tough and formidable. "Um," Harry said hesitantly, "I'm not sure it's really appropriate for a Gryffindor team member to wear Slytherin colors..."

"A stupid rose and a piece of ribbon aren't going to affect how I play, Harry," Ginny snapped.

"Well, of course not," Harry said in a placating tone. "But it might affect team morale..."

"Then maybe the team should concentrate more on playing than on what I'm wearing!" she retorted.

While Harry was trying to decide how to respond, Dumbledore said from the head table, "All right, everyone please take your seats!" Pansy and Millicent hurried back to their own table, but they had already passed out most of their roses. "Today of course is the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Good luck to both teams!" He raised his glass in salute, and the students and faculty did likewise.

As they started breakfast, Ron said accusingly to Parvati and Lavender, "You're a couple of traitors, cheering for Slytherin!"

"We're not cheering for Slytherin," Parvati said, giving him a disdainful look. "We're cheering for Dylan."

"It's the same thing!"

"No, it's not," Lavender retorted. "We're cheering for Gryffindor, too," she said, holding up a red and gold Gryffindor pennant. "But there's nothing wrong with supporting a friend, even if he's in a different House."

"He's not your friend!" Ron said, growing angrier by the minute. "He's just some boy you drool over!"

"Stop it!" Hermione said. "This is exactly what Malfoy wants, Ron--he wants you to get flustered and lose your cool on the Quidditch field, just like he did last year with that song. Just ignore him!"

"You hear that?" Ron demanded. "You're helping Malfoy with his little plot!"

"You're the one who's helping him," Parvati said scornfully. "Getting all upset over a little flower." She sniffed at her rose.

"Whether or not we carry a rose shouldn't make any difference in how you play," Lavender pointed out. "A rose doesn't catch the Quaffle or chase after a Snitch, after all."

"But...but..."

"Stop it, Ron," Harry said, laying a hand on his friend's arm. "I don't like it either, but Hermione's right. Malfoy's trying to get to us." He jerked his head over towards the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was watching the argument at Gryffindor table with great relish. "If you let him get to you, he's won. Save your energy for the game; then we'll show those Slytherins that we don't need dirty tricks to win!"

Ron nodded, looking very determined. "Yeah, we'll show those slimy gits! How great is your precious Dylan, if he has to resort to cheating to win?"

"Handing out roses isn't cheating," Parvati said indignantly.

"I'm sure it was Malfoy's idea, not Dylan's," Hermione added, and Ron glared at her.

"You boys are all so jealous of Dylan," Lavender sighed.

"I am NOT jealous!"

"Save it for the game, Ron!" Harry pleaded. He glared at Malfoy, who was snickering with his cronies, but he had to admit that Dylan looked more mortified than smug.

Meanwhile, at the head table, Lupin asked, "Did you know about this, Severus?"

Snape was staring at the sea of roses and ribbons with a bemused look on his face. "No, I didn't," he replied, too distracted to remember to be rude to Lupin.

"Mr. Malfoy is quite...creative...it seems," Blackmore said with an amused smile. "That's a stunt worthy of Dylan's father, actually."

"Yes, and there was the 'Weasley Is Our King' stunt last year," Snape mused.

"Draco seems suited for a career in advertising or publicity," Lupin laughed.

"I seriously doubt it," Hagrid muttered darkly. "He'll turn out like his father, mark my words."

"It's our job to make sure that doesn't happen," Lupin said gently, as Snape glared at Hagrid, who gave Lupin a skeptical look.

***

The two teams took their places on the Pitch; a number of roses and green and silver ribbons could be seen waving from all sections of the stands. Lavender and Parvati, like many of the other Gryffindor girls, waved a rose in one hand and a Gryffindor pennant in the other, although the boys were glaring at them. Hermione waved only a red and gold pennant, but tucked out of sight in the inside pocket of her robe was the rose that Pansy had left on the table. She had started to leave it behind after breakfast, knowing that it would only upset Ron and Harry if she took it, thus playing into Malfoy's hands, but something made her go back after the boys went to get ready for the game. She tucked the rose into her pocket, telling herself that there was no harm done as long as nobody knew about it. She still wanted Gryffindor to win, of course, but she silently cheered--while Parvati and the other girls cheered openly and loudly--every time Dylan made a pass or scored a goal, although she felt a bit guilty about it. But she also loudly cheered on Ron and Ginny and the other Gryffindor players.

The Gryffindors were playing with energy and a kind of grim determination; Dylan was afraid that Draco's little stunt might have had the opposite effect of what was intended, making them play better rather than worse. He was a little surprised to see that Ginny was still wearing the rose and ribbons pinned to the front of her uniform, though.

It had not escaped Damien's notice either. Ginny had the Quaffle, and was about to try and toss it through one of the Slytherin rings, when Damien flew by overhead and shouted, "Nice rose, Ginny!"

Startled and a little flustered, Ginny fumbled the throw, and the Quaffle fell far short of the goal. Dylan saw his chance and immediately swooped down and grabbed it. He passed it to Damien just as the other two Gryffindor Chasers caught up to him.

"You Slytherins fight dirty!" one shouted.

"All's fair in love and Quidditch," Dylan retorted, then dropped down low as a Bludger shot by over his head. The Gryffindor Chasers had to pull up short to avoid being hit by their own Bludger. Dylan laughed and flew on ahead in time to see Damien manage to get the Quaffle past the Gryffindor Keeper and score a goal.

"Yes!" Damien shouted, pumping his fist in the air, thrilled to score a goal early in his very first game. Weasley looked furious, and Dylan grinned; revenge was sweet. He felt a little guilty about Damien using the rose to fluster Ginny (though not guilty enough to not take advantage of her mistake), but he felt only satisfaction about scoring a goal against her brother, who had bad-mouthed Dylan ever since his first day at Hogwarts.

***

Up in the stands, the Donners watched from the Slytherin section. Pansy Parkinson, recognizing Ariane, had given her and Goewin two of the leftover roses. The normally dignified Ariane waved her rose and shouted with uncharacteristic abandon, "Go Dylan! That's my boy!" Math smiled at her indulgently. Ariane turned to Goewin and said, "Look at all the roses! I knew Dylan would be a heartbreaker!"

Goewin smiled wanly and said, "I just hope it doesn't go to his head."

"Are you all right, Goewin?" Ariane asked, giving her young aunt a look of concern. "You're looking a little pale.

Math frowned. "Yes, my dear, you don't look good. You didn't have much appetite at breakfast this morning, and you haven't been sleeping well lately."

"I've been having bad dreams," Goewin said. "Not surprising, considering that the Death Eaters are on the loose. And I was feeling a bit nauseous this morning; I think I might be coming down with the flu."

"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing and lie down," Math said, looking worried.

"No, dear, I'm fine," Goewin insisted. "I don't want to miss Dylan's game. I'll go see Madam Pomfrey and ask her for a tonic after the game is over."

"Well, if you're sure you'll be all right," Math said, not looking quite convinced.

"I'll be fine. Oh look, Dylan has the ball!"

"The Quaffle, Goewin," Ariane corrected. "Get away from my boy, you Gryffindor brute!"

"He deliberately hit Dylan!" Goewin said indignantly as one of the Gryffindor Chasers collided with Dylan.

"Foul!" Madam Hooch called.

Math smiled. His wife had some color back in her cheeks and appeared to be feeling better, so he set aside his worries and turned his attention back to the game.

***

The game was a heated and very close one. Gryffindor and Slytherin were dead even in points, and both sides had each had a foul called against them, both for jostling a player on the other team. Meanwhile, Malfoy and Potter were both circling the Pitch, looking for the Golden Snitch.

Finally, as Dylan had the Quaffle and was heading towards the Gryffindor goals, the Snitch came into view and Potter and Malfoy were racing furiously to catch it. To Dylan's surprise, he saw the Snitch heading straight towards him, and he was faced with a serious dilemma. He could catch the Snitch, but since he was not the Seeker, it would be considered a snitchnip, a foul, and wouldn't count. On the other hand, Potter had pulled a few feet ahead of Malfoy, and Gryffindor would probably win if he did nothing. He had a split second in which to make a decision, and he acted almost without thinking.

"Draco!" he shouted. "Pull up!" And he hurled the Quaffle right at the Snitch. It knocked the Snitch astray, just as Potter was reaching out to grab it. It shot straight up into the air, and Draco shot up after it before a startled Potter could recover, and reached out and grabbed hold of the Snitch.

The stands burst into pandemonium. The Slytherins were cheering wildly, while the Gryffindors were shouting, "Foul!" Madam Hooch, the referee, was scratching her head and consulting the rule book. Meanwhile, the Slytherins weren't waiting for an official ruling, and were pouring out of the stands onto the Quidditch Pitch. The Slytherin team landed, Draco holding the Snitch up triumphantly.

"Great play, Dy--" Damien started to shout.

"Yes, great play, Draco!" Dylan said loudly, clapping Malfoy on the back. "Great catch, you won the game!" He knew that Draco would be jealous if he took the credit for winning the game. He didn't mind giving it to Draco; it was enough for Dylan to know that he had helped to win the game--he didn't need any accolades. Of course, assuming that Hooch didn't rule it a foul...

The Slytherin spectators mobbed the team and lifted Draco and Dylan up on their shoulders, cheering loudly. Draco grinned at Dylan ecstatically, for once not minding sharing the glory with someone else, and Dylan grinned back in relief.

"You and me, Rosier!" Draco shouted, just barely able to make himself heard over the roar of the crowd. "We make a great team!"

Part 26