Open Your Eyes: The Order of The Phoenix

Disclaimer:  Here at the end of all things Potter related I am tempted to claim it all for myself, but alas I can not.  JKR owns it all aside from a couple of fabricated characters on my part, so I guess I’ll remain relegated to a lower tax bracket.

Thanks to chem prof for his outstanding beta work as always.  Any mistakes can be attributed directly to JKR…or me if you’d prefer.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries had been a very busy place during the first war with Voldemort, and for the second time in roughly 15 years the night of the attack and the following week had regained some of that manic fear.

Of all of the patients that had been admitted a week earlier, Arthur Weasley was in the worst state of the survivors.  He had lost his left hand and had been hit by a strange variant of a cutting spell, which had opened a gash in his chest that the healers had yet to fully heal.  The Healers had magically outfitted him with a reasonable prosthesis for his hand

Molly had been treated for her extended exposure to the Cruciatus, and while she still trembled from some of the aftereffects of the curse she had taken up vigil at her husband’s bedside.  The one distinguishing characteristic from her own attack was a streak of white that ran the length of her hair.

The entirety of the Weasley family, save Percy, was there and the positions they had taken spoke volumes about their personalities and role in the family dynamic.  Bill, the eldest was standing opposite his mother on his father’s left side, his shoulders squared with the door, his engrained protective nature showing through clearly.  Charlie was nearest to the door, his broad shoulders and stocky build a firm reminder to any threats that he would be the first line of defense, the first one to call to arms as it were.  He was nearly as protective as Bill, but with a nasty streak added in that the curse breaker had never developed.  The twins were for once solemn, their mischievous smiles toned down as they spoke in quiet tones in the corner of the room, present but always somewhat distant due to the closely shared bond that only twins could have.

Ron’s face was pale and it was in rare times like this that one could see just how much he cared about his family.  Those naked moments of vulnerability were also present when he worried about his friends, but he had a much easier time covering those times up with a light statement that showcased his sense of humor. 

Ginny was probably the most openly emotional of any of the children Weasley, but that was almost to be expected seeing as how she was the only girl in the family.  She was sitting at the foot of the bed staring down at her father’s blanket covered foot.  While she wasn’t crying, she was sporting a very distressed look obscured by the long red hair covering her face.

All of the red haired clan’s eyes shifted to the door as it opened, revealing a middle aged looking wizard wearing the green tunic robe that all St. Mungo’s healers wore.  The man looked very tired - weary would almost be a better description based upon the bags under his eyes and slouched posture he was wearing.

Quietly he asked, “So, how is our patient looking today?”

Molly answered in a hollow cheerful voice, “His color has improved today, which has to be a good sign.”  She finished on what could only be described as a desperately hopeful tone.

The healer flicked his wand and after a moment nodded with a small frown on his face.  “Well, it certainly appears as though his vital signs are stabilizing.  I’m still concerned about the wound on his chest though; it appears as though we’ll have to call in a counter curse specialist from the continent.  There is no telling what kind of effects it might have if left be for too long.”

Molly managed to contain her grimace at the thought of additional expenses for a specialist from the continent.  They were going to have to really skimp for the next couple of months to make do, but they would find a way like they always did.  As long as Arthur would survive they would persevere. 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Outside of the insulated tube that was St. Mungo’s, Cornelius Fudge’s administration and legacy were dissolving even faster than he could have imagined.  He had counted on the loyalty of his closest supporters, but when he truly needed Lucius Malfoy and Delores Umbridge, they had put him under the wheels of the Knight Bus.

A crumpled morning edition of the Prophet remained on his otherwise bare desk, the headline the reason he was now cleaning out his belongings from the office he had inhabited for over five years.  The headline flashed almost mockingly:

Umbridge Speaks Out: Fudge Bullies Supporters to Ruin Hogwarts

Frowning, Fudge finished his packing before he smoothed out the crumpled paper and read it one more time, as if it would offer him some closure or, less likely, a possibility of reassurance that it was all just a misunderstanding.  The incontrovertible truth still remained; it could not be denied now that Umbridge had sold him down the river in exchange for her own political livelihood.

Wryly Fudge acknowledged that he had done the same as he leapfrogged his own political mentor, Barty Crouch Sr.  Of course, whoever took over for him would have the unenviable job of being a wartime Minister as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would plant a giant bulls-eye on his successor.

His secretary entered the room, well aware that she also would be searching for a new job before the day was out.  Softly she asked, “Do you need my help for anything else Minister?”

Fudge shook his head and hesitated a moment before giving the woman a quick hug.  “Thank you for everything Jeanette.”  The fair-haired woman smiled slightly.  While the man was an incompetent Minister, he was a soft hearted man in person.

Jeanette quietly left the office, leaving the door open as she went.  Fudge flicked his wand and the numerous boxes filled with the detritus of his office vanished into the ether.  Reaching into his robes pocket he grasped the resignation speech he was about to make in front of the fully assembled Wizengamot. 

After that he would spend some time out of the spotlight before he reassessed future political aspirations.  If Barty Crouch could reinvent himself, then so would he and he would deal with people like Delores Umbridge in due time.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

At it had been a week since Voldemort had launched some very specific and personal attacks.  The Order had finished their reports on the specifics of the attack and now things had settled into the wait for a new minister, one hopefully more sympathetic to their cause, to be appointed.

Sirius and Remus were sitting at the main table in the parlor room, reminiscing about the old days and remembering some of their more recent adventures.

“I’m telling you Padfoot, James wouldn’t have stood a chance in a race with Harry.  From the little I saw of him a couple of years ago, I’d swear he was born on a broom.”

“I’m sure James probably suggested it at some point to Lily.  Of course that didn’t take into account Lily’s take on the matter,” Sirius offered with a wry grin on his face.

Remus chuckled mirthfully before he took a drink of his morning tea and sobered. “I know this is terrible, but have you ever really sat down and compared Harry and James?”

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly before he replied, “Honestly, the first thing I did after I got away with Beakie was compare my mental picture of what Harry would be, namely a miniature version of Prongs, to the reality of what he was actually like.”

Remus nodded. “I didn’t actually do it until after his fall during the Quidditch match.  I kept waiting for him to play up his injuries to the nearest girl that would listen.  But, the first thing he did was ask if they had won the match.”

Sirius chuckled. “Well technically he did already have a girl that had claimed him in a manner of speaking.”

Remus snorted as he took a drink of his tea, barely managing to avoid spraying Sirius with some hot Earl Grey.  Finally managing a response he retorted, “I figured if the boy was the least bit interested in that young woman they would get together sooner rather than later.  I mean it isn’t often a 14-year-old witch sees her best friend dead in a wedding tuxedo for her boggart, is it?”

Sirius shook his head.  “Just goes to show you Moony, that you still haven’t a clue how the female mind works.”

Remus grinned as he took a bite of the scone on his plate.  “I concede the point Padfoot.”

Sirius nodded, a pensive look on his face.  “It was when I mentioned to Harry that we might live together that I knew he was different from James.  His eyes, Merlin his eyes were basically begging to see if I was being serious.  So much naked need to be accepted and loved there Moony, and he was only a 13-year-old kid.  If I knew I could get away with it, I’d make a short trip to visit those blasted muggles.”

Remus nodded his agreement before changing the topic.  “So, two days until we see the Winged Potter take flight against Hufflepuff.  Any bets as to how long it takes before he finds the snitch?”

Sirius grinned in reply.  “That’s a sucker’s bet Moony, with his enhanced senses as a panther it should be over in five minutes if not less.”

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment before he shook his head in disagreement.  “Could he finish it that fast?  Yes, I’m sure he could.  Will he do so when they play Hufflepuff, and incidentally Cedric Diggory?  No, I can’t imagine he would, especially seeing as how it will be the last time they play together.”

Sirius shook his head and replied.  “I don’t think that will matter to Harry, he’ll want to finish up quickly so he can get his victory snog from Hermione.”

Remus merely smirked.  “So what do you say, twenty galleons to the winner?  Twenty minutes or less and you win, and anything more and I’m the winner.”

Sirius merely nodded before he took a sip of his coffee and stared straight ahead.  It was a pleasant distraction from the horrors of the previous two days, but that’s all it really was.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Things at Hogwarts were rapidly changing, and for the most part all of the news was of a positive nature due to Umbridge stepping down as Headmistress and High Inquisitor.

Hermione felt like a sponge that had been squeezed dry and stretched beyond its means to the point of never returning to its original shape.  Her family had gotten off easily, but there had been other attacks that had been completely successful, such as the assault on Hog’s Head Tavern and attacks at both Longbottom Manor and Amelia Bones’ house.  Not that the head of the DMLE had been killed, but she had been viciously assaulted by the same werewolf that had turned Remus when he was a young child, Fenrir Greyback.  Fortunately, Greyback hadn’t been completely transformed and she wouldn’t suffer the same fate as many others had.  Neville’s gran had been killed and his parents had been sent even further into madness, their only signs of being alive the foaming at the mouth they did every few hours.

Her father, a man who had the energy and spunk of a man ten years his junior, had suffered a heart attack after being placed under the Cruciatus curse.  While Winky had managed to get both her mother and father away with all of their irreplaceable possessions, the house had been destroyed and it would take time before the insurance agency could get to work on providing the money for a new house.  Her father was now conscious and being pampered by both Dobby and Winky, to an extent where even Bianca would leave her healing husband to the gentle devices of the house elves for a few hours at a time.

Of course that wasn’t even the worst of it, the worst being the headmaster’s insistence that her parents go to under assumed identities, faking their own deaths, at least as far as the wizarding world was concerned.  The illusion was intended to include a fake funeral and a scheduled bereavement leave to visit some other family in , when in reality she would be helping her parents settle into their new life.

Now however, she was taking the rare opportunity of showing her muggle mother around a castle impregnable from the outside to muggles by muggle repelling charms.  Of course this was all under the guise of her prefect duties, guiding a visiting witch of some importance on a tour of the castle, feeding into the myth that Hermione Granger wouldn’t allow even her parents’ untimely death to prevent her from completing her assigned duties.

“Hermione, would you please show me the loo where Harry and Ron saved you from the troll?” Bianca quietly requested as they went up the changing staircases that littered the school.

Hermione nodded and at the next floor they got off, on their way to the final destination of a rarely frequented girls loo.  Bianca walked around the room as if it was a museum exhibit; she looked for any sign of the troll’s destruction from several years earlier.  Magic had done a good job of removing any physical signs, but the room still held an electric feel to it, as if magic much greater than what was normally taught at the school was performed there.  Even being a muggle Bianca knew that what the three friends shared was as magical a start to a friendship as existed anywhere.

Growing up Hermione had always been a quiet little girl, only raising her voice when she got excited about learning something new, a trait that had earned her no friends from the other children in her primary school.  Most of her peers had viewed this as Hermione being an insufferable know-it-all, although the truth was that Hermione had little to no understanding of how to communicate her eagerness to learn and share it with others.

Then Bianca’s little girl’s Hogwarts letter came and it had created a chasm between her parents and the little girl that had always needed the simple reassurance that she deserved friends and love despite being a know-it-all.  Magic had given her baby that self assurance, and it had given her friendships that would last a lifetime, however long that might be.

Therein lay the other problem that Bianca had discerned from the magical world.  The danger and death in her daughter’s world was far beyond what a normal parent would be able to tolerate.  Of course she also discerned that magical people were a much more resilient lot than non-magical ones, especially if Hermione’s tales about Harry’s exploits on a broom could be trusted.  It was all such a foreign and detached world, and most of her maternal instincts screamed at her to get Hermione out of the school while she still could.  Sadly, she knew Hermione wouldn’t stand for any such high handed behavior, she’d just as soon work to be emancipated.

Hermione had watched her mother for a few minutes before her mind wandered to that Halloween night a few years in the past, how she had gone from feeling the loneliest in her life, to a life filled with friendship and love.  She honestly had believed she was about to die in the girl’s loo, especially after she heard someone lock the door from the outside.  Of course being 12 years old, friendless, and ostracized had meant that the idea of death hadn’t scared her nearly as much then as it did now when she had something to lose.

Now everything she had gained was about to cost her parents the very life they had been building for nearly twenty years.  They would be uprooted to , and it had only been due to an impassioned plea by her alone that her parents were spared the messiness of a temporary memory charm.

“Hermione love, are you absolutely certain this is the life you want?”  Bianca’s voice cut through her vaguely depressing thoughts.

Hermione shook her head, and in a voice that indicated a long running argument on this very topic she replied, “Mum, even if I wasn’t on the front lines of this with Harry I still couldn’t just deny this part of my life.”

Bianca was flailing at this point, grasping for something to keep her only child as safe as she possibly could.  “But, but what are your father and I to do?” she frantically asked in a shrill sounding voice.

Hermione sighed heavily.  In a way a part of her indeed felt as if she was abandoning her parents, but the other more logical and clinical part resolutely pushed that away.  Her parents had no chance in a confrontation with a Death Eater.

“Mum, you know that I love both you and Daddy very much.  If you were to die because of who I am, well I’d never forgive myself.”  Hermione explained in a strained voice.

Bianca gaped for a moment allowing Hermione to push home her point more easily.  “You saw what happened to Dad, and you can only imagine what could have happened to you.  It might be selfish of me to keep you and Dad away from that until this is all over, but it’s all I have right now.”

Bianca sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with the cuffs of her robes.  This all felt so wrong, so backwards to what should be happening.  As she struggled to regain her composure a pair of welcome arms wrapped around her and murmured, “I’ll always be your little girl Mum, but I need to do this.”

Bianca nodded as she broke the hug, and gave a strained smile.  “I know Sweetheart, and your father and I will support it.  Stiff upper lip and what not.”

Hermione was almost faint with relief that the conversation hadn’t taken a different turn.  Shaking off those negative thoughts she smiled, almost mischievously, and said, “How about we get ready for the Quidditch match tomorrow?  I think I have a spare Gryffindor Quidditch jersey you can wear.  I’ll just wear the one Harry bought me at the World Cup instead.  If we hurry Lavender and Ginny can regale you with some of their magical make over tips.”

Bianca managed a small smile at her daughter’s sudden enthusiasm, suddenly seeing a normal teenage girl who wanted to have some time to bond with her mother over the most important of things - girl talk and a bit of pampering.  For all of the amazing things she had seen magic do, this one was the most important at the moment.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

It was a rare windy day for the first Quidditch match of the season, pitting Hufflepuff house against Gryffindor.  The school had largely returned to normal.  Dumbledore had returned quietly from his brief absence as Headmaster, the resignation of Minister Cornelius Fudge taking up much more press and attention of the wizarding populace even than the return of Lord Voldemort.

Umbridge was still present but she was almost like a severely wounded animal, having shut herself away in her office save the times she still taught class.  Of course everyone at the school keenly felt the missing students who were seeing to services of dead relatives, or in the Weasleys’ case an ailing family member.

For that reason alone, the Gryffindor Quidditch team would be without a Weasley in the lineup for the first possible time since Charlie Weasley had first taken the seeker position in his third year.  Thusly the Gryffindor lineup had been in a state of constant practice for the past three days breaking in two new beaters and one new chaser. 

McLaggen had taken his starting role as keeper without any of the tact and quiet respect the rest of the team had expected, in fact he had loudly trumpeted his starting turn as the ascension to a throne of sorts.  As it was, the desperation of the situation forced all of the older students to merely tolerate the sixth year’s pompous attitude.

All of that seemed to fade away when Harry finally took to the air on his Firebolt, the same rush of competitive fire as always flashing in his eyes.  The crowd erupted as it always did for the Boy-Who-Lived, the loudest cheers coming from a bushy haired witch and an apparent visiting witch of some importance.

In the Ravenclaw section a loud roar erupted and the blonde witch that was the source of the noise held a large magical sign that flashed a simple message:

Win for Ronald

Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but catch sight of the large flashing sign and he managed a small nod for Luna much to the jealousy and anger of many other single witches in the crowd.

An amused baritone pulled him from his usual pre-match mental inventory.  “So Harry, it seems you have admirers in Ravenclaw.”

Harry chuckled and replied, “Nah, this time it’s an admirer for Ron.”

Cedric glanced down before he nodded.  “Ah of course, Luna Lovegood, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled.  “Yeah, she is definitely a bit different.”

Cedric smiled sadly.  “She wasn’t always like that, it happened after her mother died.  My mum was good friends with her mum.”

Harry circled around in the air for a moment pondering this before he pinched the bridge of his nose as he pushed his glasses up.  “That might explain her behavior.”  Shaking his head he grinned and asked, “Ready to lose?”

Cedric shook his head.  “Well, while there shouldn’t be any dementors today I think I still have the last win between us.”

Harry’s grin became somewhat more determined before he offered, “Well, let’s give them all a proper show then, shall we?”

Cedric took a hand from his broom and gave Harry a jaunty salute.  “Capital idea old chap.”

Harry chuckled as Cedric returned to his Hufflepuff teammates for some last minute instructions, while Harry merely met the eyes of Angelina and Katie nodding, given he already knew exactly what he was needed for.

Madam Hooch hovered right at the center line of the pitch and with the aid of a sonorous spell announced, “Captains please shake hands!”

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Cedric and Angelina did as instructed before the snitch, bludgers, and quaffle were released signaling the start of the match.  As Harry zipped high into the sky to have a better chance at spotting the snitch Hermione turned to her mother and explained, “The seeker has several roles to fill on the Quidditch pitch.”

Seamus chuckled and nudged Dean before he exclaimed, “Hermione Granger explaining Quidditch to someone, whatever is the world coming to?”

Hermione pointedly ignored the comment as she continued, “Harry is probably the best seeker in the school at catching the snitch, but there are other things the seeker has to help manage.  They have to coordinate their actions with the beaters to avoid their own teammates being pelted by a misplaced bludger.  They also have to make sure the opposing seeker never gets so far away as to allow a free run at the snitch if it appears.  You can see Cedric Diggory is staying about 100 meters away from Harry, which is still close enough should Harry spot the snitch that Cedric can catch him.”

Lee Jordan’s voice broke above the noise of the crowd.  “The last time these two teams played it required a Dementor attack on Harry Potter to allow a Hufflepuff victory.  Although in all fairness the Hufflepuff seeker did offer a rematch, which was not allowed by the rules.”

McGonagall made no move to chastise Lee on this point; it was a widely held belief that it was indeed Gryffindors’ match to lose had it not been for the interference of the guards of Azkaban.

Bianca watched in awe as the various teenagers swooped through the sky passing the quaffle and hitting bludgers back and forth.  It filled Hermione with a foreign and yet welcome warmth to have a chance to share something so magical with her mother.  All of the times in the past when she had written letters pertaining to Harry’s Quidditch heroics, it had always failed to capture the terror and exhilaration she felt watching the games.

Lee’s voice once again cut over the noise.  “McMillan scores on a nice feed from Smith.  Hufflepuff leads 40-30 as McLaggen has yet to make a save.”

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Remus and Sirius were watching in the staff and guest stands, Hagrid having joined them instead of taking his normal place in the Gryffindor stands with Hermione.

Remus glanced down at his watch fighting a smirk as he said, “Five more minutes Padfoot, and then those galleons are mine.”

Sirius was bouncing on the balls of his feet like many of the students were but he still managed to reply, “Oh sod the galleons, Harry just needs to catch the snitch before it gets too much out of hand.”

Hagrid chimed in as well, “Sure do wish the Weasleys ‘ad been ‘ere.”

Sirius nodded.  “Yes this McLaggen kid is absolute rubbish.  From what Harry told me Ron could be as good as Oliver Wood with a bit of time.”

Remus tutted, “While he does appear to be having a hard time of it, I do think calling him rubbish is a bit harsh.”  Sirius merely rolled his eyes, clearly conveying his thoughts on the matter without offering anything further to the conversation.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Harry had been scanning the skies for nearly twenty minutes and he had patiently watched an inferior team take advantage of a substandard keeper like McLaggen apparently was during games.  Fortunately the Gryffindor girls had been brilliant on the chaser line keeping the match within twenty points, meaning as always it would come down to him to win the match for the team.

Contrary to popular opinion he could not see things that much more clearly due to his animagus form.  Any advantage he might have gained in hearing was nullified by the boisterous crowd.  What he did have was the superior broom, a keen enough eye, and a desire to win the match that typically dwarfed the opposing seeker’s same desire.

Cedric had been doing his level best of staying close to Harry, all the while directing his troops from above as the captain.  Harry really didn’t think he could do as well in the same position, but then again Cedric was a born leader and from what he remembered the older boy thrived in such situations.

Grasping the handle of his Firebolt Harry darted towards the opposite end of the pitch, fortunate enough that Cedric was in the middle of bellowing out a new play for the chaser line.  As he reached mid-pitch a glint of gold darted up through the Hufflepuff hoops and the chase was on.

The crowd’s cheers spurred Harry on as Cedric desperately tried to catch up on his Nimbus 2000, the same broom his father had bought him for his 15^th birthday.  Harry however, was pulling away as he corkscrewed down towards the ground as the snitch took a sudden downturn.  The crowd gasped as Harry flattened out less than five feet from the ground his Quidditch robes almost dragging on the pitch as he zipped along.

Cedric had caught up somewhat as they flattened out due to the more maneuverable Nimbus broom, and now it was possible if he took a better line he could take the snitch from Harry for a second time.  The snitch continued to zip along just barely above the pitch as the Hufflepuff beaters sent a bludger towards Harry.  Harry did a last second barrel roll to avoid the bludger, a move which drew a lot of gasps from the assembled crowd.

Lee was in heaven as he announced, “Harry Potter somehow avoids the bludger sent by the Hufflepuff beaters.  That was a professional quality move right there folks.”

Harry of course was too absorbed in catching the snitch to notice anything other than something moving hard and fast from the corner of his eye.  A quick barrel roll and he continued his pursuit, Cedric was closing slowly, but if he didn’t mess up it would be over before Cedric could catch it.

As Harry inched out on his broom the snitch began to take off straight up.  Seeing this would be his chance to end the match Harry took his stabilizing hand from the broom and stood up on the Firebolt, vaulting himself from the broom as the tip of its handle dropped to the ground.  With a swipe of his hand he captured the snitch.

As he clasped his right hand around the struggling snitch he pulled his wand with his other hand and pointed it at himself.  “Arresto Momentum.”  With the aid of the spell Harry hit the ground at a tumble at only roughly ten miles per hour, which was enough to result in a sprained right ankle and a bit of a grass burn.

Lee Jordan’s voice broke out in jubilant glee.  “Harry Potter has captured the snitch, Gryffindor wins 210-90!”

Madam Pomfrey was down on the pitch in a flash and was mending Harry’s ankle when Hermione and Bianca followed close behind looking slightly winded but not much the worse for wear.

Hermione breathlessly asked, “You crazy idiot, does every Quidditch match have to end with you injured?”

Harry chuckled.  “I’ve sprained my ankle on the trick step to Gryffindor Tower Hermione, so I wouldn’t exactly call this an injury.”

Throwing all of her usual rules of propriety to the wind Hermione grasped Harry’s Quidditch robes and pulled him into a deep kiss.  Bianca finally managed to separate them as she dryly said, “Now that you’ve checked to see if the boy needs his tonsils out, I think Madam Pomfrey would like to check him over in the hospital wing.”

Sirius grinned as he suggested, “Maybe Harry needs a different kind of healing?”

Bianca narrowed her eyes, “I think not Sirius.”

Harry barked out a laugh at his godfather’s antics as the group slowly gathered and began to head back towards the castle.  They met Cedric halfway back to the school with a small smile on his face, “Good match Harry, now promise me you are going to take the piss out of Slytherin.”

Harry nodded.  “I’ll do what I can mate.”

Cedric slapped Harry on the back before he let the group pass.  As head boy he had to ensure that all of the students were on the grounds before he could shower after the match.

As they approached the castle the doors to the Great Hall swung open revealing the frantic pair of Ron and Ginny.  Ron, the same boy who Quidditch meant everything to, took one glance at Harry before he gasped out, “Dad’s taken a turn for the worse, and Mum wants all of the Weasleys honorary and otherwise to get to St. Mungo’s.”

Without sparing a glance to anyone else Harry and Hermione took off at a sprint behind Ron and Ginny, Harry’s mended ankle and perhaps some post match snogging suddenly forced to the back burner.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

A/N:  Not a lot happening this chapter, but next chapter things will start heating up with both Mr. Weasley and Harry’s ‘little’ study group.

I already have the next several chapters outlined, so I know exactly where this story is going, all that need be done is write it…

Happy Early Birthday to Hermione Granger … if I don’t get another chapter out beforehand.

Thanks to everyone that took the time to review last chapter, and thanks for reading.