Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter Eight

It was an effort to get up the next morning. The ball had ended at midnight and sleep hadn’t come until after one. The fact that Divination was first was just another reason for Harry’s lack of motivation.

It was the same for most of the students. Everyone had bleary eyes and contagious yawning spread throughout the Great Hall during breakfast.

Fred and George looked especially worse for wear. Apparently McGonagall had heard about the toilet seat and had immediately thought of them. The twins had maintained that it was Peeves and the poltergeist had done nothing to nay-say this so it appeared that they were off the hook.

“She started on about destruction of school property and having to pay for repairs so we’re using Peeves as a get out,” George told Harry solemnly as he buttered a slice of toast. “Luckily Peeves as good as admitted that it was him so we should get away with it. We’ve hidden up the toilet seat so it can’t be traced back to us. Oh, and on that note, here’s the map back.”

He handed over the now blank map to Harry who quickly pocketed it. He was relieved to see no brown stains after the previous night’s incident. It was one of the only heirlooms he owned and he didn’t want to see it ruined.

By the time breakfast ended Harry was feeling a bit more awake though the idea of Divination still held little appeal. He’d grown sick of Trelawney and her death predictions and, despite what Hermione might think, it was actually rather difficult to keep thinking up dire forecasts every week.

Trelawney herself seemed to be acting stranger than usual during their lesson up in the North Tower. She ambled around the clusters of chintz armchairs in a daze, occasionally muttering to herself.

“Death smiles upon you, my dear,” she told Harry as she sauntered passed his and Ron’s circular table, her silk shawl slipping down her thin, spindly arms. “The celestial bodies speak to my Inner Eye.”

Ron and Harry exchanged unimpressed looks which soon turned into sniggers as Ron noticed a small collection of empty sherry bottles poking out under the winged armchair by the burning fire. Lavender Brown turned round and gave them a dirty look when they started doing impressions of their tipsy Divination teacher.

It seemed to Harry that Trelawney was a bit too fond of the sherry since she appeared rather out of it in most of their lessons following Halloween. Not that Harry dwelt on the subject of Trelawney’s alcohol problem for long; he had more important things to think about.

With the arrival of November came the beginning of the Quidditch season. Angelina suddenly seemed to be channelling Oliver Wood and Quidditch practices had almost taken over his life.

Harry didn’t really understand why Angelina was stressing out about their first game against Slytherin. It wasn’t like Malfoy had any skill. But when he had commented on this to Katie at the end of one of their more gruelling practices the sixth year Quidditch captain had overheard and turned on Harry like some enraged Hippogriff.

“Don’t get cocky,” she said angrily, poking her finger out at him. “Underestimating the enemy could cost us the game. I’m not letting Gryffindor lose the Quidditch cup while I’m captain!”

She had then stormed off with a wryly smiling Alicia quickly chasing after her.

“Well someone’s PMSing,” said George as he pushed in between Harry and Katie.

Katie tried to elbow the ginger-haired Beater only he dodged out of the way. “She’s just stressed out by the whole thing. She’ll be OK once we’ve thrashed Slytherin; it’s going to be a doddle.”

True to Katie’s words, the match against Slytherin was a walk in the park. While the Slytherin team were every bit as unscrupulous as usual with fouls being committed left and right, it was more down to one of their Chasers that they lost; that and Draco Malfoy’s inability to catch anything remotely resembling a Snitch.

Marcus Flint had finally graduated from Hogwarts and so the Slytherin sixth year, Miles Bletchley, had been made captain. He had made the fatal error of putting his girlfriend, one Emily Gerard, on the team as Chaser.

Gerard had seemed unable to cope with flying, let alone catching the Quaffle. Her broom had been all over the place and one of her own side’s Beaters had grown so annoyed that a Bludger had been hit her way more than once over the course of the game.

After the match the Slytherins had turned on the only female on the team and Harry thought it highly unlikely that he would ever see the girl play again. Gerard, however, didn’t seem too fussed about the matter from what Harry could see as he was lead away to the castle by the exuberant Gryffindors to celebrate the victory.

While Quidditch had taken up most of his free time, Harry had not forgotten the mystery of the withered body, nor his suspicions concerning his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. At every opportunity he had scouted the library for books on cursed objects hoping to find some evidence to suggest that a cursed item could leave no magical residue.

So far everything he’d read had vetoed his suspicions. All the books said that leaving a magical residue was a certainty, leading Harry to believe that either his suspicions were entirely misplaced or else Abravan knew something no one else did.

Despite reaching a dead end in his investigation, Harry had gained a greater understanding behind cursed objects. How long the curse lasted varied considerably with some curses lasting mere hours – historically used for assassination purposes - while others lingered for decades. According to the widely believed Vivacitas Maledicti Theorem, there were several determining factors in how long a basic curse could last: power, skill, clarity of emotion and, most important of all, intent.

He had also discovered what exactly defixiones were. Popular more in ancient times, they were cursed tablets written by wizards seeking to punish their enemies. The magic involved in creating a defixio was minute and consequently could be easily dispelled by a wizard’s innate magic. It was for this reason that they had been used more against non-magic folk, and thus why the practice had died out when the wizards and Muggles had parted ways centuries ago.

Some of the books he’d read had touched on runic curses. Ancient runes could store magic for millennia if the process of charging up the runes was done correctly. Setting up runic curses accurately, though, was extremely time-consuming; this was the reason why, in ancient Egypt, wizards would take years to set up curses on the tombs of the dead.

The time-consuming nature of runic curses had led to mixed curses being used: a combination of runic and basic curses. While these types of curses were advantageous in some respects, such as being quicker to set up and requiring less knowledge and skill with runes, they had a smaller life span and were easier to detect and dismantle.

There was a lot of information that Harry hadn’t understood. He’d skipped over much of the theoretical aspect of runic curses after realising that it was NEWT level and above. He was just nearing the half-way point in his Ancient Runes: Book One textbook and didn’t think he had nearly enough understanding to tackle such theories as the combination of different runic styles, overlaying rune patterns and the degradation gradient of runes. He was still having trouble trying to figure out what the word ‘dative’ meant and so didn’t think he’d be facing the runic shift paradigm for a few more years.

But reading up on the practical aspect of runes increased his motivation to study the subject. The textbook he was translating from was interesting and Hermione had been kind enough to give him her marked translations from the year before for him to check his work against. Why she still had her work from the year before was beyond him, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

Harry supposed that it was his focus on runes, curses and Quidditch that meant he had missed the shifting relationship between his two best friends. Nothing had been said but on the run-down to the Christmas holidays he started to realise a change in the dynamics between the three of them. For the first time in his friendship with Ron and Hermione, he began to feel almost out of place.

It was a worrying realisation for Harry who had never had any form of friend before Hogwarts. He was happy with the status quo and didn’t like the growing sense that his two best friends were slowly but surely drifting away from him. It was for that reason that he put aside the feeling and ignored what was going on in the hope that the problem would just go away.

While the term ran on, the awareness of being the odd one out was buffered by school work and the general racket caused by a castle full of students. In addition, the countdown to Christmas was filled with the run up to the election for the Minister of Magic.

Fudge’s days seemed numbered if what the Daily Prophet reported was true. The incompetence of the security at the World Cup followed by the disgrace of losing the Triwizard Tournament to Germany was too much for the British public to be able to excuse.

There were also the increasing allegations that the current Minister was engaging in a sordid affair with his secretary. Whether it was true or not, it appeared to be the figurative nail in the coffin for Fudge’s hopes of being re-elected for a second term in office.

More speculation was focused on the two candidates running against the current Minster: Amelia Bones, the current head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Albert Watkins, the deputy head of the Department of Magical Transportation.

“I’m voting for Watkins,” Angelina told Harry when he enquired after one of their Quidditch practises. He had remembered that she was seventeen and therefore old enough to vote.

Jason snorted as he crouched down next to the large wooden crate that stored the four different Quidditch balls. The team was currently standing around waiting for the twins to retrieve the two Bludgers. “I bet you’re just thinking about his brother.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I think he has some good policies like free emergency Floo powder. Just because I like Quidditch doesn’t mean I’m going to vote for him.”

Harry was confused. “What does Quidditch have to do with anything?”

“Albert Watkins’s brother was Fabius Watkins, the legendary Chaser for the Montrose Magpies. He’s trying to get Quidditch fans on his side through his brother as well as the sympathy vote for what happened to Fabius.”

That name sounded familiar. “Fabius Watkins? Wait a minute – wasn’t he the Chaser who collided with a helicopter?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Damned shame, too. According to my dad he was brilliant. I’m not too keen on his brother, though,” said Jason in a more subdued tone. “He has issues.”

Angelina looked unimpressed as she folded her arms. Sceptically, she repeated him: “Issues?”

“Putting it bluntly, he’s not a fan of Muggles,” said the seventh year Keeper. “The Prophet keeps playing up his devotion to his younger brother, but they’re forgetting – or more likely they’re just plain omitting - that he hates Muggles as a result. He still blames them for his brother’s death. At one time there was even speculation that he was a supporter of You Know Who.”

“A Death Eater?” The mention of Voldemort’s followers sounded strange to Harry’s ears as his mind drifted back to the Quidditch World Cup and the masked wizards rampaging through the campsite. The term seemed somehow out of place on Hogwarts grounds.

Jason shook his head. “No, just one of those who agreed with him about the place of Muggles in the world. Quite a few people did until they realised to what extent You Know Who was willing to go.”

There was a pause for a moment as the three of them merely watched Fred and George wheedle Alicia and Katie into being Bludger targets.

“So you’re voting for Bones, then,” said Angelina eventually. Her arms were still folded, but her face betrayed that she was still thinking about what the easy-going seventh year had said.

“Yep, Bones all the way. She’s the head of the DMLE so she knows what needs to be done to improve security and she seems like a fair leader who wants to make a positive difference. Plus, her niece gave me a slice of cake,” he added with a grin.

It was true that Susan Bones had started doing some campaigning on her aunt’s behalf. The red-headed Hufflepuff had even produced some badges supporting Amelia Bones’s campaign, which several sixth and seventh years now sported.

Harry personally leaned more towards Bones after reading about her proposed reforms of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the newspaper. She wanted to increase Auror intake and tighten security surrounding all magical areas. Closer to Harry’s heart was her pledge to improve the education system and ensure a quality standard in teaching. After years of having to put up with mainly sub-par Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers along with Binns and Trelawney, he thought the idea held great merit.

The whole system surrounding the election was a bit harder to understand. Hermione had been forced to explain it to him after he found out that, unlike in Muggle politics, there weren’t any political parties.

“Honestly Harry, I can’t believe you don’t know,” she had said in disbelief when he’d let slip his ignorance on the magical world’s political system. “You could have been entering a dictatorship without even knowing about it!”

Harry thought that was taking it a bit too far. He attempted to excuse his ignorance. “Well it’s not as though Hagrid sat me down and explained politics to me. Besides, I was more interested in finding out how my parents died after being lied to for ten years.”

“I suppose,” she conceded with a frown.

She had then gone on to explain the workings of the wizarding government. The Wizengamot was the central body of politics. There were forty-nine members who were elected by constituencies throughout the country on an annual basis. They were the ones who presided over any changes in the laws and functioned as the high court of wizarding law.

General elections to vote for the Minister of Magic took place at least every seven years, though the current minister could call for an election at any period during his seven year tenancy. This was what Fudge had done since he still had another three more years left in power had he not called for an early election.

“He probably thought the success of the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament would get him re-elected,” deduced Harry.

“Most likely,” said Hermione. “But it’s rather backfired on him, hasn’t it.”

The members of the Wizengamot put forward several different candidates for minister. An internal vote would then be taken to whittle the contenders to two. The current minister or, in some cases, their chosen successor, was added to the nominees and so gave the public three candidates to choose from. In the case of the current election there was Bones, Watkins and Fudge to choose from.

“All the prospective candidates have to be accepted by the Dukes’ Council. It’s their responsibility to vet the candidates and make sure they’re suitable,” said Hermione knowledgably.

“The Dukes’ Council? Why – is there a wizarding aristocracy?”

“Nah, not really,” said Ron who had listened in silently until then. “There used to be until sometime in the 1600s, I think, but a lot of the old families died out so they had to change it all around. I think Dad once mentioned something about it being the reason why the Ministry of Magic was created ‘cause it was a bunch of lords who used to run everything. I dunno much about it all, but I do know that only the seven dukes were allowed to keep their titles.”

It turned out that the seven dukes had been reduced in number to four with the Le Fay, Everton and Azwell lines dying out over the course of the last few centuries. Not that it really mattered; the dukes’ role was more ceremonial than essential and most wizards were patiently waiting for all the lines to die out and end the aristocracy for good. They only stepped into the political scene during election time and theoretically had the power to commandeer the government during emergency situations such as in the event of the minister’s assassination. At the end of the day, they had a very minor role in the whole thing.

The election itself was being held a week into the Christmas holiday. The result would then be announced the next day and the inauguration ceremony would take place three days later.

As Christmas tumbled ever closer and the castle’s grounds became blanketed in a sheet of snow festive cheer gripped Hogwarts. Students chatted on about their holiday plans and promised to meet up with their friends. In the upper years discussion of the upcoming election continued on. The castle rang with noise.

Until there was silence.

One day the castle was filled with students and the next it was silent as hordes of children departed early morning on the Saturday with their trunks loaded up. One minute the corridors were bustling with crowds and in the next moment they became empty expanses.

It was Harry’s fourth Christmas spent at Hogwarts. Choosing between staying at the castle and returning to the Dursleys was not exactly a hard decision to make. He briefly entertained himself by imagining the looks of outrage he’d receive if he suddenly turned up at number four. He estimated it would take at least until the summer for his only remaining relatives to forgive him for the tongue incident.

Ron and Hermione had decided to stay with him over the holiday. While he was at first grateful for their company, he soon became increasingly irritated how, more often than not, they ended up wandering off together.

It was for this reason that he was heading to the library. The common room turned into a rather boring place when deserted and, while he knew it would be ridiculously easy to find out where his two friends had got to with the help of a certain map, he decided that if they didn’t want him present then he wasn’t going to bother chasing after them.

The library, however, wasn’t as empty as he’d thought it’d be. Sitting in plain sight of the door was the seated form of Padma Patil. She was nibbling at the end of a rather diminished Sugar Quill as she looked over a sheet of parchment.

He hadn’t realised that anyone from his year aside from Ron and Hermione was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. At the back of his mind he knew there was one Slytherin and four Ravenclaws down on the list to stay, but he hadn’t realised she was staying. He’d figured that since Parvati was gone, so too would her twin.

The door slammed shut and the Ravenclaw witch looked up from her desk and straight at him. She smiled hesitantly at him, her half-eaten Sugar Quill resting against the side of her face.

The smile gave Harry the confidence to make his way over to her desk. He indicated at the chair opposite her. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Yes – I mean, no; I don’t mind at all. Let me just move all my stuff out the way.” She leaned across the table, quickly gathering her books together into a pile by her side.

Harry looked down on one of the textbooks as it was added to the pile. Written in embossed letters were the words Guide to Advanced Transfiguration. His brows raised in surprise as he recognised the title as a textbook for sixth years.

“Getting a head start on homework, then?” he asked, nodding his head towards the scroll of parchment she had quickly rolled up.

Padma looked slightly guilty. “Well, that was the plan only, well, let’s just say that the plan’s altered course.”

With a wry smile she unrolled the parchment scroll and revealed a page filled with doodles. “I’m thinking about giving it up as a lost cause and doing what I usually do.”

“What’s that?”

“Leave it to the last minute. Probably not a good thing, but it usually works out rather well.” She smiled self-deprecatingly.

Harry was surprised at that. He’d always presumed that Ravenclaws did their homework as soon as they got it, much like Hermione. He mentioned as such out loud.

“You’re thinking of the wrong Ravenclaw house. I only know a few people who are motivated enough to get their homework over and done with. The common room’s always filled with people quickly finishing off their work due in the next day, or sometimes even the next lesson.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation then. While not awkward, it wasn’t exactly comfortable either and Harry desperately cast his mind around for things to say but came up blank.

It was Padma who broke the silence. “So what are you in the library for?”

Not wanting to mention Ron and Hermione’s disappearing act and how he had planned to while away his time doing nothing productive, he answered with the first thing he could think of. “I was looking for a dictionary. A Muggle dictionary.”

“Oh, you mean an encyclopaedia? But I thought you lived with Muggles? And, wait a minute – you don’t do Muggle Studies; well, I’ve never seen you in class.” She looked baffled.

A bit disconcerted that she knew part of his background, he quickly corrected her assumption. “No, not an encyclopaedia. I just need a dictionary to find out what the word ‘dative’ means. Hermione tried to explain but it sort of went over my head and I only pretended to understand so I can’t really ask her again.”

“Yes, I can see your quandary.” Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “Dative means the indirect object.”

“Yeah, Hermione mentioned something like that.” He was still lost.

Padma laughed. “Which means you still have no idea what it means, do you?”

“I’d sort of be lying if I said otherwise.”

“Right then – an example: ‘the girl gave flowers to her mum’. Now, what’s the subject?”

“The girl.”

“Right, and what’s the object?”

“The mum?” guessed Harry.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid it’s the flowers. The mum is the indirect object since the object – the flowers –are being given to her. Any clearer?”

“A bit.” It made more sense than Hermione’s long-winded speech that mentioned a whole spiel of other cases like the accusative and nominative and Merlin knows what else.

“Or you could just fall back on to what I do.”

“Which is?”

“If you notice it’s a dative case then use the words ‘to’ or ‘for’ before it. That’s how you’re supposed to translate it, anyway.”

“That makes a bit more sense. Thanks.”

“That’s OK; I’m just glad I could help out.” She offered him a small smile and Harry couldn’t help but grin in return.

There was another brief lull in conversation before Padma once again filled the silence. “Are you studying a language, then?”

Harry looked briefly puzzled and Padma was quick to explain herself. “Because of the whole dative thing, I figured…”

“Oh, right. Ancient Runes, actually. Someone gave me the first book and I’ve been studying it in my own time.”

“I was going to say – I’ve never seen you in class.”

“Yeah, I sort of didn’t pay too much attention to what subjects I chose at the end of second year and I’ve only recently realised how badly I picked.” He recalled copying down the same electives as Ron and wished heartily that he’d thought about it a bit more.

Padma gave him a look filled with sympathy. “Divination, right? I seem to recall Parvati telling me you were fated to die after Trelawney saw the Grim in your future. I’m glad to see you haven’t left the land of the living just yet.”

“It’s nice to know someone cares,” he said drolly.

Padma grinned. “Hogwarts wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, let’s see… There was the troll in first year and then the whole thing about the third floor corridor.” She started counting the incidents with her fingers. “In second year you decided against riding on the Hogwarts Express and instead flew here in an enchanted car… and then there was the whole Chamber of Secrets thing. Now wait, what happened last year…? Oh, you fell off your broom-”

“It was more being forced off, actually. There was a whole swarm of Dementors, you know,” he felt it compulsory to add. He didn’t like the notion of her thinking that it was lack of skill that knocked him off his Nimbus Two Thousand.

She grinned at him impishly, showing her set of straight, pearly white teeth before continuing on. “And then there was the whole thing of Sirius Black breaking into your dormitory, though I suppose that’s more to do with your friend Ron than you from what I’ve heard. I still wonder how Black got into Hogwarts in the first place…”

Harry replied unthinkingly. “Through a secret passageway.”

She looked at him sharply and Harry cursed his slip of the tongue. Sirius was still on the run and here he was blabbing away about his godfather’s secrets to a girl he hardly knew.

“Secret passageway?” She sounded intrigued and Harry leapt onto the subject in the hope of diverting her attention away from the dangerous topic of Sirius Black.

“Yeah, there’s tons of them. I can show you some if you want.” He tried to convince himself that his offer was just a ploy to distract her from his godfather and had nothing to do with showing off to the prettiest girl in his year.

Her dark eyes danced with excitement. “Really? You’d show me? You wouldn’t mind at all?”

“’Course I don’t mind. That is if you don’t mind leaving your homework behind?”

The pretty Indian witch glanced at the rolled up parchment which hid the evidence of her bored doodling. She bit her lip slightly before her mouth widened into a smile. “I think I’m going to give it up as a lost cause.”

“Even the Advanced Transfiguration?” Harry couldn’t help but say.

She looked confused for a moment before comprehension dawned. “Oh! That’s not mine; it was there when I got here. I wouldn’t even understand half of it. I’m definitely not that smart.”

“Despite being a Ravenclaw?”

“You certainly seem to have a lot of misconceptions about my house. We’re not all Hermione Granger replicas.” She then seemed to realise what she’d said and, more precisely, who she’d said it to. Her face took on a look of sheer mortification. “That’s really horrible of me to say and I really, really didn’t mean it like that. It’s just everyone thinks if you’re in Ravenclaw you have to be really smart and get Os all the time and it’s really annoying. And I really didn’t mean to say that about Hermione.”

Harry waved off her apologies. “Don’t be sorry; she’d probably be glad to know that you think she’s so smart.”

“But still…”

He shook his head at her as he stood up from his chair. “Come on, let’s go explore.”

He stretched out his hand to her which she clasped in her own as he pulled her to her feet. They shared a smile.

“You know I’ve always wanted to find a secret passageway,” said Padma as they walked out of the library.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I went out searching with my friend, Mandy, in first year only we got a bit lost and ended up missing for nearly four hours, so I’ve never really attempted it again. But since you know your way around, I don’t have to worry.”

Get lost, however, they did. Several times in fact. They did manage to find several shortcuts, some of which weren’t even mentioned on the Marauder’s Map which Harry had left in his dormitory.

They skipped lunch entirely to follow a hidden passageway that grew smaller and smaller as they walked along until they were almost crawling. It ended up opening into a huge room filled with house-elves who stared at them in shock before starting to offer them snacks of all kinds. They had managed to find the kitchens of Hogwarts via the house-elf entrance.

After that unexpected find they strolled aimlessly along the empty stone corridors. Padma had coerced him into speaking about the troll incident in their first year and in turn Harry wanted to hear about her first year.

“It’s hardly as exciting as yours. I don’t know why you want to hear about it.”

But Harry persisted, grinning. “Come on, there must be something memorable. I’m sure you’re hiding something.”

“Well,” she said with great reluctance, “there was the time I thought I’d killed the Giant Squid.”

He stopped dead and turned to stare at her in amazement. “You what?”

She cringed, hiding her face in her hands. “Merlin, this is embarrassing.”

“You can’t stop after saying something like that! You’ve made me really curious now.”

She scrunched up her nose and looked at the ceiling before facing him with a sigh. “It was after our exams and me and Mandy and some others were outside, and my mum had sent me some biscuity things and well, I sort of gave one to the Giant Squid. Well, to one of his tentacles, anyway. You know how he sometimes runs them along the lake surface.”

Harry nodded his understanding, wondering what she was getting at.

“I thought nothing of it until Terry started convulsing after I gave him one of the biscuits. None of us knew what was going on so Morag and Anthony – this was when him and Terry were still friends, you see – hurried him to the hospital wing.

“Soon after that Lisa saw the Giant Squid lifting its tentacles off out of the water for some reason. I don’t know why, but for some reason I couldn’t get it out of my head that he must be suffering like Terry. And then I realised that both of them had eaten my biscuits. And it was all my fault so I dove in.”

Harry’s eyes went wide as he looked at her in shock.

“I know; I don’t what on earth I was thinking! And then the Squid went still and I thought I must have poisoned him or something. I was feeling really guilty and wondering whether Professor Dumbledore was going to expel me for killing it. I could almost hear my father telling me how I’d brought shame to the entire family.

“But then the blasted thing suddenly started moving again and squirted me in ink!”

Harry couldn’t help it and started to laugh.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” But despite her protestations a smile tugged at her lips. “It’s really not! It took me weeks to get it all out of my hair. I hate that damned squid.”

Harry couldn’t take her seriously, though. Especially not when she was laughing, too.

They were still laughing about it when they entered the Great Hall for dinner.

“All the older Ravenclaws called me Inky. It was so humiliating!”

They reached the Ravenclaw table where the other three Ravenclaws staying for the holiday – two fifth years and one second year – were sitting and Harry realised that he didn’t want to say goodbye just yet despite spending the last several hours in Padma’s company.

“You know, I’m pretty sure no one would mind if you sat down on the Gryffindor table,” he said casually, hoping she didn’t realise just how much he hoped she’d agree.

She smiled brilliantly. “OK, then.”

Harry grinned and led her over to the Gryffindor table where Ron and Hermione were sitting. Seeing them, Harry realised just how little he’d thought about his absent friends throughout the day. The underlying anger he’d felt earlier on returned, but he forced himself not to show it.

“Where have you been?” Hermione immediately wanted to know. “We didn’t see you at lunch and were wondering where you’d gone.”

“Exploring with Padma,” he said shortly as he sat down opposite the Ravenclaw. He thought about questioning where they had been but decided he really didn’t care to know.

“Oh, hi Padma,” said Hermione, only then realising her presence. “How come you’re at Hogwarts?”

With a start, Harry realised that even though he’d spent nearly the entire day with her he hadn’t ever bothered to find out why she was at Hogwarts for Christmas.

“My parents are away on a business trip and my grandmother is in hospital in India so I couldn’t go to her.” She shrugged lightly. “I was given the option of going with Parvati to Lavender’s, but I preferred staying here since I really didn’t want my fortune being read every day.”

Harry and her shared a grin as they remember her complaints about Divination and it’s unnatural influence on her twin. “You know, she used to be perfectly sane until she went up to the North Tower,” she had commented at one point during their exploring.

In Ron and Hermione’s presence, though, the pair seemed to lose their easy camaraderie as Hermione dominated the conversation with talk of school work and Ancient Runes translations. Ron, on the other hand, stayed rather quiet throughout dinner as he gave his main focus to his food.

Once dinner was over with, though, Harry found himself wishing to linger, knowing that Padma would be returning to her separate common room.

“I had a really fun day today,” she told him as they came to the point where Harry and his friends would go one way and she would go another.

“So did I. We ought to do it again. We do still need to find the human entrance to the kitchens.”

“Yes, we do.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said it quickly, hoping she’d agree.

“OK.” She smiled and they parted ways.

That night he smiled into his pillow as he thought of a particular Ravenclaw witch. The Christmas holiday had certainly grown more interesting.