The Transfer

Disclaimer: as usual, not making money, or having any fun either…

I'm debating whether or not to delete this story. I dunno. I guess it all seemed so much better as I was writing it, and now that I am revising things… I am falling out of love with it.

ARGH! Why do I let reviews get to me??? Is that why I wrote this? Because I am a review whore?

I know there are some fans out there, and I could maybe email the unposted chapters or something.

I dunno, I haven't made any definite decision yet. We'll see.

Here is the next Chapter, hope you enjoy.

CH.9 Hogsmeade

The following weeks saw me falling into a comfortable rhythm that allowed me to keep up with my schoolwork and enjoy my time with my new friends. Ron and Harry got me into more trouble than I would have liked, but we always had a blast getting out of whatever predicament we got ourselves into.

Hermione was a different story. Since the night of Slughorn's first party, I had cooled things off with her a bit as I realized that she probably didn't feel the same way about me as I did for her. She seemed to like me and enjoy her time with me, but when it came to taking things to the next level, she always shied away or changed the subject.

I asked Ginny if she had ever got around to speaking to her and she said that Hermione was hard to read when it came to these things and that she couldn't say for sure if she `fancied' me or not. I wanted to curse at the news, but then I realized that it was Hermione's complexity and lack of transparency that had first attracted me to her. I had no one to blame but myself for this whole situation.

Slughorn wasn't helping matters. I had managed to get my grades up, not ruining any equipment and even successfully brewing a Deflating Draught that he deemed “Greatly Improved”. No matter what I seemed to do though, he wouldn't invite me to any of his functions and I was starting to wonder if it wasn't me, but my father that was the problem.

Mom had written again and said that things were deteriorating fast between Dad and the Ministry. She hinted that I might not make it through the year at Hogwarts, let alone till summer. If Slughorn had invited me to his first gathering back on the train because of my father, then it computed that my father's Ministry problems could be the reason I wasn't being invited now.

Three parties had come and gone, and Harry, as Hermione expected, had avoided them all, scheduling Quidditch practice on the same night as any Slug Club event. This was especially bad for me as it sent Hermione to Slughorn and Ron and Harry out to the pitch. I had finished a lot of homework assignments those last three Saturday nights.

The following Saturday morning I awoke to the sound of Ron howling as he dangled upside down by his ankle. Harry jumped from his bed and started apologizing as he went through a his potions book trying to find the counter-curse to what he had apparently just done to Ron.

While Seamus, Dean and Neville all laughed heartily at Ron, I pointed my wand at him and said “Finite Incantatem.” He landed hard on his bed and nearly bounced to the floor, but managed to grab a post and stay aboard.

“Oh, thanks Vin,” he said, sounding relived to be back on terra firma. “Next time just set the alarm, Harry.”

Harry apologized profusely, but by the time we were dressed and heading down to breakfast, the whole event was nothing more than a joke. At least to everyone but Hermione.

“Was that spell, by any chance, one from that potions book of yours?” she asked, eyeing him like she already knew the answer.

Ron, Harry and I all rolled our eyes and sighed. We had been over this before, but Hermione still insisted there was something wrong with that book. I supposed that if she and Ron could ignore Harry and my theories on Malfoy, we could ignore her theories on his potions book.

We settled into breakfast, discussing Death Eaters and Blood Traitors when Ginny came up and gave Harry a note from Dumbledore.

“Hey, I've got another lesson this Monday evening!” I nodded at him approvingly; at least it wasn't another detention notice from Snape.

“Want to come to Hogsmeade with us Ginny?” he asked.

“Sorry guys, I'm going with Dean - might see you there,” she said as she headed back down to the other end of the table where Dean sat. I watched Harry's expression falter lightly and with a laugh thought to myself, Add Harry to the list of guys with a crush on Ginny.

Filch was waiting for us with the Dark Detector when we lined up to leave the castle. My wand again set it off, but he seemed to remember me and I was quickly cleared to make the trip to Hogsmeade.

After about five minutes of walking, I was starting to wish that the Dark Detector might have found something more substantial. Growing up in L.A., the coldest it ever got was usually in the fifties in the dead of winter. I had gone to the nearby mountains for a ski trip or two, but nothing could have prepared me for the walk down to the village. It wasn't snowing; it was raining ice that melted when it hit your skin and hair, leaving you drenched and freezing. The wind was howling, blowing the sleet at us horizontally and forcing us to lean against it as we trudged forward.

Ron led the way to the nearest storefront and as we entered I moaned, “Some fun, huh guys?” They had been promising me a good time in Hogsmeade since the date of the first trip was announced, and while I knew they couldn't control the weather, I was disappointed to find we had just entered a candy shop populated with squealing, sugar-high students.

“Oh, goodness,” shivered Hermione as she shook off the cold and seemed to involuntarily grabbed my arm for warmth. Her hair was capped by a now drenched knit hat that she had pulled down past her ears. She was all pink cheeks and brown eyes and I wrapped my arms around her, hoping I could claim an equally involuntary need for warmth if she questioned my position.

Slughorn's sudden appearance didn't give us the chance to talk about it, though. The store wasn't very large, and the fact that we hadn't seen him when we entered made me wonder if he somehow Apparated in. I had felt the Apparation wards lift as we left the castle grounds.

“Harry m'boy,” he began as Ron and I were pushed out of his way by his approaching girth. We shrank to the far corner of the store, both glaring at the back of Slughorn's fat head as he chatted up Harry and Hermione. I caught her looking past him at me trying to get me to come over and say something that might put me back on his `A' list, but I wasn't in the mood.

It's not like he doesn't see me every potions class, I thought to myself as she motioned with her head nonchalantly for me to join the conversation. Anything he wants to say to me he can say during class.

After a few minutes he left, leaving Harry and Hermione looking relieved but also apprehensive from the look that Ron was giving them.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Hermione suggested apparently hoping a change of venue would lighten Ron's mood. “What do you say to the Three Broomsticks, Ron?”

“Yeah, ok,” he replied, though he didn't seem any happier.

“What's the Three Broomsticks?” I asked.

“It's a Pub,” said Ron as we again braved the weather and crossed the street.

“Pub? Like a bar?”

“Yeah, that's it.”

Ron may have still been grumpy, but the thought of a glass of something with some booze in it brightened my spirits quite a bit.

Just across the street outside the pub, we came upon two men; a shorter, dirty looking red haired man and a taller, older man, looking over a suitcase full of cups and silverware.

“Mundungus!” cried Harry as we approached.

The shorter man looked at us and went pale as Harry and Ron looked over his suitcase full of items. The taller man, I noticed, subtly excused himself and disappeared down the street.

“Are you selling these?” asked Harry as he looked down at the collection while Mundungus tried to gather them up and close the bag.

I had a strange feeling about Mundungus. His demeanor and clothing gave him such an air of untidiness and untrustworthiness that I was surprised Harry knew him at all. Here, was finally a legitimate reason for my father to worry about me hanging out with Harry Potter.

“Yeah, well, gotta scrape a living, -- hey put that down!” said Mundungus as Ron stooped to pick up a fallen object.

“Hold on,” said Ron as he looked over the goblet in his hands, “Harry this looks familiar.”

I touched the wand concealed up my sleeve, reassured by it's presence.. Something wasn't right here.

“Thank you Ronald,” said Mundungus as he plucked the cup from Ron's hands, “Well I better be going then - OUCH!”

Harry grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall, holding him with one hand and pulling his wand with the other.

“Harry!” cried Hermione, her eyes wide with distress and surprise.

“You took this from Sirius's house, didn't you?” demanded Harry, his wand pointed at Mundungus's face now.

“Wha? No I didn't I--,” sputtered Mundunges as his pale complexion started to look more smurf-like the tighter Harry squeezed.

“Give them to me!” snarled Harry as he tightened further.

“Harry, please!” squealed Hermione.

I watched as Mundungus locked his small eyes on Harry, then as his face tightened in concentration.

“Harry, watch it, he's gonna -,”.

There was a bang and Harry was thrown back, his hand flying over his head as he stumbled backward. I caught him with my palm in the center of his back and pushed him towards Mundungus again, but he had ducked down to his suitcase; laying on top of it and with a loud - CRACK, he Disapparated.

Harry looked around eagerly, but he was gone.

“FUCK!” he yelled, “COME BACK YOU THEIVING--!”

“Easy Harry.”

I spun on my heel to find a young witch with drab, wet, brown hair standing just down the street from us. She had come out of nowhere and I wasn't taking any more chances.

I pointed my wand at her saying, “Easy yourself! I've had enough Apparation surprises, thanks!”

Hermione jumped between us, putting her arms up and yelling, “No Vinny! We know her! It's Tonks!”

I looked past Hermione at the mousy girl she was defending. She sized me up, her trained eye going over me like she was evaluating my abilities and strengths with just a glance.

“Who's your bodyguard, Harry?” she said, her eyes never leaving me.

“Easy, Vin! We really do know her,” said Ron as he pulled the arm holding my wand down to my side, “She's a friend.”

“Sorry, but after that other guy--,” I stared at Tonks as she stared back, a small smile coming to her otherwise gloomy face.

“Never mind,” she said, as Harry continued to ignore her, his face red with rage. She spread her arms and ushering us all into the pub, “Best to get out of the cold.”

She left us at the threshold, returning to the bitter weather outside.

“She's not a teacher is she?” I asked.

“No, she's—well she's a friend of the family you could say.” said Hermione as she guided Harry, still fuming over our encounter with Mundungus, to a table.

“Come on Vin, we'll get some drinks,” said Ron, suddenly much happier. A moment later, as we approached the bar, I could see why.

The hostess of the Three Broomsticks was a witch who looked to be in her mid thirties with wavy blonde hair, a lovely bright face and a corset that gave her acres of deep cleavage. I smiled at Ron and asked, “Who's the babe?”

“That's Madam Rosmerta. Haven't heard anything about her from Seamus or Dean?”

I wanted to tell him they were too busy lusting after his sister, but instead I said, “No, they never mentioned her. She's a looker, huh?”

“Since the first time I saw her…” said Ron, trailing off as he continued.

We walked up to the bar and I beamed at Rosmerta saying, “Well, if it isn't the famous Madam Rosmerta; such an honor to finally meet you!”

She smiled back at me, her well-plucked eyebrows knitting in confusion

“Famous am I now?” she said, her voice light and engaging.

“But of course,” I replied, “Many a failed test at Hogwarts has been blamed on late night distractions centered around the hostess of the Three Broomsticks.” I said with a small wink, “Lucky for me, this is my first year or I wouldn't have passed an exam after coming to Hogsmeade.”

She looked me over from head to foot and then said, “Let's see, tall, dark, handsome American with a silver tongue. You must be Vinny DiFranco.”

Ron chuckled next to me, but I was unfazed.

“My reputation precedes me, I see.”

“Yes well, mine does as well, apparently,” she admitted with a laugh, leaning over the bar and give Ron and I, tall as we were, a very nice view of her ample bosom.

“Has there been a cute little Indian girl in here talking about me by any chance?” I asked, wondering how she knew of me.

“No actually, an older, tartan clad, spinster of a witch and her eight foot side kick,” she held her hand a few feet over her head, “were talking about you a few nights ago over a couple glasses of Firewhiskey.”

I laughed out loud, the thought of Hagrid and Mcgonagall having a drink together too much for me.

“Well at least they were being complimentary,” I said, rolling my eyes, “But about that Firewhiskey; what do you say to bringing me a glass and three Butterbeers for my mates?”

I gestured to Ron, who I just realized hadn't said anything since I began talking to Rosmerta.

“Oh, Mr DiFranco--,” she said as her face shifted in mock concern, “Now, you know I'm not allowed to serve Firewhiskey to underage wizards.”

“And me without my fake I.D.” I said, with the same beaming smile.

“Better make it four butterbeers, then,” said Ron, from out of nowhere.

Rosmerta nodded and had headed down to the far side of the bar to fetch our drinks when Ron punched me hard in the arm.

“Ouch! What?”

He turned on me, locking his bright blue eyes on mine and whispered loudly, “Do you have to do that to every woman you talk to?”

“Do what?”

“You know, “ he said, motioning suggestively with his hands, “Try to-- Verbally Impregnate her?”

It was the funniest thing I had ever heard Ron say, and I laughed accordingly hard, pounding the bar with a clenched fist.

Rosmerta returned before I could say anything to him, but I looked up at her and announced, “This guy is hilarious!”

She looked at Ron amusedly and waited for him to say something, but he just looked at his feet while his ears turned red.

“Right, a regular riot, he is” she laughed dismissively. “That'll be eight Sickles.”

I tossed her a galleon as Ron and I turned to make our way back to Harry and Hermione

“Keep the change.”

Ron huffed as we moved out of earshot and said, “There see-- that sort of thing. You really can't help yourself, can you?”

“You didn't seem to mind when I was talking to Parvati so you could make some time with Lavender, now did you?”

He said nothing, blushing around the ears again and ducking his head.

“You're just concerned I might have tried to Verbally Impregnate Ginny, aren't you?”

“YOU SHUT IT!”

We sat down at the table with Harry and Hermione and passed out the bottles as Hermione put her arm around Harry condolingly.

“I'm sorry Harry, I'd be upset too if he was stealing my stuff,” she whispered to him.

“Yeah, it is my stuff,” he cried, as if he suddenly realized it, “Damn it, why can't the Order control Mundungus?”

“SHH!” said Hermione, looking around to see who might have heard him.

“Order?” I asked. “What's the Order?”

The three of them looked at each other with a strange astute panic that told me I had just heard something I wasn't supposed to hear.

“Well?” I said as their eyes made round after round.

“We can't talk about it here,” said Harry as he looked over Hermione's shoulder at Zabini, who was leaning against a pillar close by.

“OK, could we talk about it back at school?” I asked, my interest intensifying. Anything Zabini, or any other Slytherin for that matter, wasn't supposed to know about was something I wanted in on.

“Maybe,” said Hermione, “Well have to talk to - some people about it first.”

“Some people?” I said raising an eyebrow at her as I finished the last of my butterbeer.

“Yes,” she hissed, “Some people! Now, is everyone done with their drinks? Good, let's get back to the castle.”

We all rose and exited the pub, clutching our cloaks and jackets tight against the worsening weather while falling in behind Katie Bell and a friend of hers who were also on their way back to the castle. About an eighth mile from the entrance to the grounds, Katie and her friend began to argue and wrestle over something that Katie had been holding since we started following them.

“Let it go, Leanne!” shouted Katie as she pushed her friend away with one hand while gripping her package with the other.

“What the hell?” I said, pointing at the girls as Hermione bumped into me, not realizing I had stopped, “What are they doing?”

They all looked as Leanne fell to the ground and Katie suddenly dropped the package and rose slowly, gracefully into the air. Her arms were outstretched and the wind was whipping her hair about her head when she suddenly started screaming at the top of her lungs, her eyes now wide, her face contorted in a horrified expression.

Leanne grabbed her ankle trying to pull her back to the ground as the rest of us ran to help her, covering the ground between us quickly.

She fell on top of us and then lay in the sleet-covered grass still screaming at the horrifying scene that played in front of only her eyes. Ron and Hermione bent down with Leanne, trying to quiet her while I looked down on her from above.

“Stay here with her,” said Harry, “I'll get help.” He tore off toward the castle, disappearing in the sleet.

I turned and looked back at the package on the ground and saw it contained a heavy necklace. Ornately decorated and encrusted with jewels, it would have made anyone want to touch it.

Ron rose next to me and looked down to see what had caught my eye.

“What is it?” he said stooping down and extending a hand to touch the package.

“Ron, back away,” I said pulling my wand and grabbing him back by the shoulder with my free hand.

As Leanne and Katie both wailed behind us, I levitated the necklace off the ground and rotated it slowly to have a better look.

“Oh, good thinking, Vin,” said Ron, I assumed referring to my levitating the necklace and not picking it up with my hands like he was going to.

While it hovered there, I flicked my wand at it and whispered Anima Glacialis. A perfectly square block of ice formed around the necklace, three or four inches thick in all directions.

“Better idea,” I said, and Ron nodded.

Just then, Harry reappeared out of the downpour with Hagrid at his side. “Out of the way!” yelled Hagrid, as he scooped Katie up into his arms and ran towards the castle with her.

Hermione sat down in the grass next to Leanne, putting an arm around her and asking what had happened. She told us that Katie came from the bathroom holding the package and insisted that they return to the castle at once so she could present it to its new owner.

“Oh, I'm so stupid!” moaned Leanne, “She was probably under the Imperious curse and I didn't realize it!”

We helped her to her feet and started towards the castle again, Ron and Hermione guiding a near delirious Leanne, and Harry lost in thought as I levitated the ice-encased necklace.

Harry fell in step next to me and said, “I bet it was Malfoy that gave her the necklace and put her under the Imperious curse. Back when we saw him in Nocturn Alley before school started, he was in a shop that had this necklace in it. He had to have given it to her!”

I nodded at him, “But no one saw him in Hogsmeade today. Did you? I didn't. Ron, what about you?”

Ron looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “I can barley see my hand in front of my face with this weather, forget Malfoy.”

We pushed past the oak doors to the entrance hall and shook off the cold as I said sarcastically, “Well you guys weren't kidding about Hogsmeade. Good times, good times.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione ignored me, helping Leanne up the stairs as I continued, “I mean, I froze my friggin' nuts off, had one butterbeer and nearly got in a fight with some gloomy little--,” but waiting at the top of the stairs, stood Professor McGonagall , her brow knitted in worry as we approached. “Oh goody, and now I get to see McGonagall on a Saturday. Let me die now, life can't get any better.”

“Hagrid said that you saw what happened to Katie Bell - what is that you have there, Mr. DiFranco?”

I levitated the cube of ice right in front of her, so she could take hold of it.

“That's what Katie touched Professor,” I said, as her eyes went wide.

“Good Lord! Mr. Filtch, take this to Professor Snape at once. He'll know what to do with it.” Filtch had come slogging along, his Dark Detector drawn to pat us down as we arrived back at the castle. McGonagall shooed him away with the necklace and then instructed us to follow her to her chambers.

She crossed back behind her desk and leveled her eyes at Leanne asking, “What happened, my dear?”

Leanne told the story up until the point where the package was torn open, from then on she could only sob uncontrollably. McGonnagal excused her to the hospital wing for a sedative to relieve her shock.

When she was gone, she turned on us.

“What next Mr. Potter?”

“Katie rose into the air and screamed and collapsed. I ran to get Hagrid and Vinny encased the necklace in ice to keep anyone else from touching it. That's about it.”

She eyed us with a troubled look, like she was hoping we might have a clue to who would have given her the necklace in the first place.

Sensing this, Harry said, “Professor, can I see the Headmaster, please?”

McGonagall's troubled look vanished, replaced by her normal, curt, if not slightly annoyed facade.

“Professor Dumbledore is away until Monday.”

“Away?”

“Yes Potter, away,” she said with an air of finality. “Anything you would say to him I can assure you, you can say to me.”

Harry hesitated for a small moment and then said, “I think Malfoy gave Katie the necklace Professor.”

Ron and Hermione both made uncomfortable noises, like Hagrid had just stepped on their toes under the dinner table. I nodded my head, indicating that I agreed with Harry's assessment.

“What proof do you have of this Mr. Potter?”

Now it was Harry's turn to look uncomfortable. He eyed the floor in front of him and said, “None Professor, but he was at Borgin and Burkes over summer break, and the necklace was there as well.”

“So you saw him leave the shop with the necklace?”

“No,” said Harry, “He told the owner to hold something for him and--,”

Hermione interrupted with her patented logical explanation for the situation, causing Harry to raise his voice up a level. The two of them went back and forth on the matter until Harry looked back at me for support. I could only shrug my shoulders, though. I wasn't in Nocturn alley that day. While I thought Malfoy probably had somehow given the necklace to Katie, I couldn't reason how.

“That's enough,” said McGonagall, her voice loud enough to get everyone's attention. “While I appreciate you telling me this Mr. Potter, I can't blame Malfoy for something that he couldn't have possibly done.”

Harry's face fell, “How are you so sure he couldn't have done it?”

“Because Harry, “she said, her tone much more gentle, “He wasn't in Hogsmeade today. He was in detention with me for failing to complete his Transfiguration homework. Now, I want you to keep a close eye on him and tell me if you do see him acting peculiar. Anything out of the ordinary I want to know about. After what happened with his father last year…”

I stared at her perplexed. She was a teacher and Malfoy was a student. How could she be telling Harry to basically spy on him, regardless of who his father was, or what he had done.

Then it clicked.

“The Order,” I said.

The next instant, all eyes were on me as I took a step back and felt the hard stone wall at my back.

“Who told him?” said McGonnagal calmly.

Too calmly. The image of the four of them casting a Memory Charm on me passed through my mind and I drew my wand involuntarily.

“Woa,” said Ron, putting his hands up and stepping back.

“Mr. DiFranco! We are not going to assault you; there is no need to defend yourself.”

I looked from face to face, seeing Ron's surprise, Harry's indifference and Hermione's hurt and realized she was right. There was no plan to Obliviate anyone who stumbled across this `Secret Order'.

“I'm sorry Professor. I didn't know what to expect would happen next.”

“That's quite alright,” she said as she summoned two extra chairs from thin air with her wand. “It's actually commendable that you are so quick to your wand, especially in these trying times. Lets everyone have a seat and we will discuss The Order of the Phoenix.”

AN- how strange, the next chapter is entitled, Decisions…