On Thursday, after his potions class, where they learned how to brew Pepperup potion, Harry discovered a letter inside his bookbag. When he opened it, he discovered it was, from all people, Draco Malfoy. The letter was an apology for cursing him during the duel on Monday, and while it was politely worded and all, Harry got an uneasy feeling that it was not very sincere. Malfoy had avoided him all day, however, pretending not to even see him, much to Harry's relief. He wondered if Snape had made Malfoy write the letter, or perhaps Malfoy's mum had? It sort of seemed the kind of thing a mother would make a child do, what Lily might have made him do, had she lived and he had done something like that. Well, whatever the reason, Harry hoped Malfoy would leave him be from now on. He had gone through primary school being the target of Dudley and his bullying friends, he didn't want the same to happen here at Hogwarts.

That night in the Great Hall, students whispered about a new face at the staff table. When Harry turned about to see what everyone was talking about, he saw a young woman , a little younger than Snape, sitting next to Madam Pince at the staff table. She was wearing a simple yet elegant long skirt of midnight blue and a starched white blouse and over robes of royal blue with an owl holding a scroll brooch on them. She was of medium height and had honey blond hair pulled back in a neat bun and glasses perched upon her pert nose. Eyes of a brilliant aquamarine peered out curiously from them and gazed about the hall. She was not exceptionally beautiful or cute, but she had an intense gaze that drew the eye.

Harry gazed at her and gave her a tentative smile, receiving one in return which made the woman's ordinary face look adorable. To his shock, she winked at him mischievously before taking a sip out of her goblet of pineapple juice. Harry flushed and turned away, asking Hermione, "Who's that new teacher up there?"

"That's not a new teacher, Harry. That's Madam Pince's new assistant, her niece," Hermione explained. She had heard McGonagall discussing the new arrival with Professor Sprout as she was leaving the greenhouse that afternoon.

"Yeah, her name's Lena Rosario, and she used to be a Ravenclaw," Percy added, eyeing the petite woman with a sigh of envy. "She's going to help Pince restore the library, or so I've heard."

There was a lot of murmuring appreciatively among the older Gryffindor boys, who hadn't seen a woman younger than fifty or older than eighteen come to Hogwarts in a long time.

"She looks sweet, eh, Percy?" teased George, elbowing Fred in the ribs and snickering.

Percy flushed. "Shut up, you git!"

"Ooo, got a bit of a crush, elder brother?" Fred sniggered.

"Of course not!" said Percy indignantly. "She's in her thirties! Twice my age!" But his ears were very red.

"Yeah, but you know what they say about older women," Oliver Wood smirked.

Percy glared at him and began eating his meatloaf and mashed potatoes at top speed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, are you all ready for the Quidditch match on Friday?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I think so. We're playing Ravenclaw, so it should be pretty good."

"Just watch them, Harry. They're clever and sneaky." Ron warned. "I've heard that Snape's referee for that game too."

"He is?" Harry's eyebrows went up.

"Yeah, so he'll probably try and make them look good."

"Ron, are you saying that Professor Snape would cheat?" Hermione objected.

Ron shrugged. "You always favor your own House, Hermione."

"But a referee is supposed to be impartial. I don't think Professor Snape would be allowed to be in that position if he were unfair."

"Hermione, what planet are you from?" Ron snorted. "Half the refs in professional Quidditch are crooked. I'll bet you two Knuts that Snape's no different."

Harry frowned. "I don't agree. If Snape says he'll referee impartially then he will." He knew better than anyone how Snape valued his promises.

Ron shrugged. "We'll see, won't we?" Then he turned back to eating his roast chicken.

Up at the staff table, Skullduggery was eying Lena from Severus' shoulder. The potions professor was seated on Lena's right, to her left was her aunt, who rarely ate dinner with the rest of the staff, she much preferred to hide away in her quarters rather than be forced to endure the clamor in the hall. But this once Irma made an exception, because Dumbledore had insisted she attend the welcome feast for Lena. She had made the introductions for the staff, and they had all welcomed the young librarian to Hogwarts. Irma figured they might as well start off on the right foot, since Lena was probably going to be here for the rest of the year, even if the library was restored by next term. Irma was subtly grooming the younger woman as her eventual replacement, though no one knew this save Albus. Not even Lena knew.

Lena Rosario was an unusually self-possessed young woman. She was used to being in the company of academics, having grown up with a father who was an Oxford don, and as a teenager had attended many a literature meeting with him, since her passion, like his, was the written word. Lena's mother, Morgana, was more interested in studying dusty old magic tomes than reading literature, and Lena was more than happy to attend the lectures and discussions with her father, Anthony. Anthony was always glad to have her there, she was more like him than her brother, Max, who used every excuse in the book to skive off and play sports, he detested reading and thought it was a dreadful bore. He was a top notch Chaser, had played for a time with the Chudley Cannons before semi-retiring to become a coach.

Lena had always suspected that her father had been relieved when his youngest displayed every sign of being a bookworm, because his son and he had almost nothing in common. Max was boisterous and opinionated, much like his Uncle Leo, his father's brother. Anthony was quiet and introspective and preferred a good book to any kind of sporting match. Anthony had once lamented that Max had trouble keeping still for any length of time as a boy, unless it was to watch Quidditch. Lena, however, even as a toddler, would remain transfixed upon his knee while he read aloud to her, and could never fall asleep unless she was read to before bedtime. It was almost a foregone conclusion that she would end up in Ravenclaw at her Sorting.

"Like mother, like daughter," was what her dad had said when she'd written home and told him what House she was in. "It's practically tradition in the Pince family, for the women to end up in Ravenclaw." He had always jokingly referred to Irma as the Queen of the Library, Guardian of the Stacks, and his wife was the Queen of the Fairies, Gloriana, which was both a play on her name and a reference to one of his favorite books, The Faerie Queen by Edmund Spenser.

Thinking of her parents made the young woman feel suddenly homesick for the crazy old Elizabethan-style manor house she had lived in her whole life, with all the additions and stairs that wound every which way, leading to balconies overlooking the gardens or garrets full of dusty old magical relics and books stashed in dustproof boxes. It was an architect's nightmare but a child's dream, a place of mystery where you could explore to your heart's content and still discover something new and exciting every day. Lena adored the ramshackle old house and always had.

Though she had been quite eager to help her aunt restore the library, she hadn't been back to Hogwarts in over ten years, and had forgotten how loud and noisy it could be, and she found the pressure of so many individual minds nudging at her shields quite disconcerting. Unknown to any save family, Lena had inherited the Pince affinity for mind magic, and was in fact, a very strong witch in the mind arts. She had devoted many years to learning both Occlumency and Legilimency as well as studying obscure branches of old magic with Morgana. Due to the many people in the hall, she had to concentrate more than normal to block them out, and as a result developed a headache. This in turn caused her to become very quiet.

Until Skulduggery fluttered down and landed in front of her plate, cocked his head, and said suavely, "Greetings, pretty lady. Read any good books lately?"

Lena giggled, delighted with the raven's wit.

Severus was aghast. There were times when his familiar displayed a very annoying tendency to ask impertinent questions, and try as he might, Severus had never been able to break him of the habit. "Skulduggery! Don't be such an impertinent wretch!" he scolded. Then he coughed and turned to the witch, saying apologetically, "Forgive me, Miss Rosario, my familiar can be very obnoxious—"

To his astonishment, Lena shook her head. "Oh no, Professor Snape, I find him quite charming. And very clever." Skullduggery preened proudly. Then she said a long liquid phrase in Welsh to the raven.

Snape blinked. "You speak Welsh?"

"No, just a few phrases here and there," Lena admitted, blushing slightly.

Skull turned to his wizard and said, "She called me Keeper of Knowledge, Severus. And that she was honored to meet me."

"He understands Welsh?" McGonagall asked. "I never knew that!"

"One never knows what Skullduggery picks up while staying at the Tower," Severus said dryly, impressed in spite of himself. "Some of it is good and some of it . . .well, let us say shouldn't be repeated in polite company."

Lena smiled shyly at the tall professor, whom she thought was rather handsome, despite his rather large nose and stern demeanor. He might have intimidated another woman, but Lena's instincts were telling her that he wasn't quite as fierce and cold as he seemed. A light probe told her he was a natural Occlumens, quite strong, which pleased her immensely, since then she wouldn't need to be on her guard so much around him. Ordinary wizards often proved to be unable to block her mental senses and she ended up reading their surface thoughts unintentionally if she happened to let down her shields even slightly. It was one reason she had remained single past the age of twenty-five, since it was decidedly unromantic to be picking up her date's less than flattering thoughts about her, such as she's not much to look at, but maybe she's good in the sack, or no wonder she's not found a husband yet, who'd want to marry a witch who knows more about books than anything else, and makes a man feel like a dolt? How much more awkward would it have been if her potential suitors, most of them suggested by her mother, knew she was also a disciple of the old ways and could hear surface thoughts? She knew quite well that most wizards would run off and count themselves lucky to have gotten away from the unnerving bookish half-blood. It was why she liked to spend so much time alone in the library, because the books didn't care what a misfit she was.

She wondered if Aunt Irma knew that the Potions Master was a strong Occlumens and that was why she had chosen him to be Lena's seatmate? Whatever the reason, she was glad Severus was next to her, he seemed like a fascinating and intelligent fellow. "I am rather hard to shock, Professor. You'd be surprised what topics come up for discussion at an Oxford staff luncheon, some of the professors there aren't as conservative as you might think." Then she blushed. I can't believe I just said that! "I mean . . .so you needn't be embarrassed if your familiar happens to mention some . . .err . . .awkward subjects. As I said before, I really like ravens."

Skull looked enormously pleased. "See, Severus? She likes me. She has good taste, you should invite her for tea and scones."

"Skullduggery!" hissed a mortified Severus.

Minerva laughed delightedly. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Severus! I am sure you and Lena have much in common. Did you know, Lena, that Severus is also a bibliophile? He practically lives in the library."

Severus longed to tell Minerva to mind her own business, but he didn't want to appear surly and unpleasant in front of the apprentice librarian. "That is true. Or at least it was before the troll destroyed half of it."

"Aunt Irma told me you dueled the troll and saved a student's life."

Severus nodded, clearly uncomfortable. "I . . .yes. I did what any adult would have done in a similar situation."

Lena arched an eyebrow. "Really? Most wizards I know would have Flooed the Aurors or Magical Creature Squad, not battled a troll to the death. You must be highly skilled at combat magic."

"I know how to defend myself," Snape said modestly.

"He's brilliant at Defense," piped up Skulduggery. "Almost as good as he is at potions."

Severus longed to strangle his familiar right then. He never liked to brag about his skills in either area, even if it were true. He didn't want to seem like a pompous ass. "He's exaggerating," he said to Lena, and then he shot a glare at the raven. "Trolls are strong but stupid, and once I brought down its magic resistance with a Weakening Hex, it was not that hard to defeat."

"Our Potions Master is too modest, my dear Lena," Albus chuckled. "He acted very heroically in defending Mr. Potter, and we are all very grateful he was around to do so."

Severus glanced away, wishing he could Obliviate his well-meaning but infuriating colleagues.

Sensing his embarrassment, Lena sought to turn the topic to something else the professor might be willing to discuss. "Where did you get your raven, Professor Snape?"

For some reason he found her formality a tad irritating, especially because she was only two years his junior. "You may call me Severus, Miss Rosario."

"If you will call me Lena . . .Severus."

"As you wish, Lena." He agreed, feeling on much more even footing than before. "Skulduggery, or Skull for short, actually adopted me. He was born in the Tower of London, one of the greater ravens that live there. I was on my way back from Diagon Alley one day from purchasing some potions ingredients when I paused to look up at the Tower. For some reason I decided to visit and while I was there, he flew down on my shoulder and refused to leave. The Ravenmaster, who happens to be one of us, told me that I had been chosen by Skulduggery , that he was now my familiar. He has been with me for . . ." he paused and did some quick arithmetic in his head. " . . .eight years now."

"He seems like a wonderful familiar."

"That's me, Mr. Wonderful!" Skull crowed.

Everyone chuckled. Snape rolled his eyes. "Merlin, help you, bird. If you get any more full of hot air, you're libel to explode like the Hindenburg."

Lena started laughing at the reference, unlike most wizards at the table, she understood it. Skull did also and fluffed his feathers up in a huff, acting insulted. "You calling me a blimp, Snape?"

"I'm calling you a puffed up windbag, and if you don't watch it you're going to end up in a cauldron one night."

"Only if you're desperate for money and need to make the Ultra Special Potion of Skull Everlasting. It'll make you immortal, because even death hides from Skullduggery." The raven croaked.

"You see what I have to put up with?"

"I like him. I think he's sweet," Lena said, and reached out to scratch the raven's head.

"Keep this one, Sev. She knows where it's at."

"Someday I need to acquire a familiar," Lena said to both her aunt and Severus. "A library needs a cat or a bird to make it feel like home. I feel incomplete without one."

"I can send you Skull if you'd like," Severus offered, scowling. "Before he ends up plucked and stuffed."

The raven promptly stuck his tongue out at the Potions Master.

Before Snape could scold him further or threaten to turn him into potion ingredients, the impudent bird flew over to McGonagall and sang sweetly in her ear, "What's new pussycat? Woah, woah, woah."

Minerva went red, and half the staff burst out laughing.

The wickedly witty raven continued singing, sounding just like Tom Jones. He knew the whole song, having heard it coming from a radio while he spent time at the Tower of London. Skull knew quite well that McGonagall's Animagus form was a cat and was having a grand old time warbling the old tune.

"Skull, now really!" she sputtered. "Severus, do control your bird, for the love of Merlin!"

Snape's eyes sparkled with amusement. "How do you suggest I do that, Minerva? Hex his beak shut?" He would never admit it, but he had often longed to play that song for the Gryffindor Head, because it was quite funny and he enjoyed making the conservative witch squirm, especially after she had embarrassed him tonight with her pseudo-matchmaking. Tit for tat, kitty cat, he thought with a smirk.

Half the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were in stitches, even though they didn't recognize the song in the slightest, they loved how Skull could mock their teachers with impunity.

"Drat you, bird!" McGonagall waved a napkin at the raven, who ducked and flapped away to land upon the Gryffindor table, where several students applauded him. He bowed, wings spread, and then helped himself to some roast chicken off of Harry's plate.

Harry sniggered and said, "Better be careful, Skull. McGonagall might hunt you down and make a pie out of you."

"Nah. I taste terrible," the raven trilled.

Fred and George cheered, then whispered that their feathered brother was going to just love the prank they had played upon Malfoy.

Harry looked up, alarmed. "What did you do?"

George smirked at him. "You'll see. Keep watching the Slytherin table. It should begin in about . . .oh, two minutes."

"Countdown!" Skullduggery screeched. "One . . .two . . .three . . .four . . ."

Harry looked at Ron. "Do you know what they did?"

"Not a clue, mate. But this ought to be good!" He was looking forward to seeing the prat Malfoy get taken down a peg or two.

So was everyone else at the table, or so it seemed. Even Hermione took her nose out of her textbook to glance over at the Slytherin table.

Skull finished counting down the minutes, and as soon as the raven had trilled "One hundred and twenty!" it happened.

Draco was rapidly eating his roast beef and potatoes, ignoring what was going on around him for once. Thus, he didn't notice that his hair had suddenly morphed into large spiky black feathers and his clothes were changed into beggar's rags colored crimson and gold.

Several Slytherins looked at him goggle-eyed, especially Crabbe and Goyle, because his whole House knew how particular Malfoy was about his appearance. He was quite vain and all of his clothes were of the highest quality and he hated looking unkempt.

The Gryffindors were laughing and pointing, but that was not the worst of the prank.

Draco opened his mouth to ask why everyone at the table was staring at him like he'd grown an extra head when a sharp cawing sound came out of his mouth . . .like the call of a raven. Malfoy clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified. What's happened to me? I can't talk . . .I sound like a bloody bird! Like a . . .raven! He turned and looked over at the Gryffindor table, they were roaring at him and jeering. He felt himself flush with anger and embarrassment. He knew one of them had pranked him. Two, most likely. This had the feel of a Weasley twin joke.

Then he looked down and saw, to his horror, that he was wearing . . .a torn ragged shirt and ripped jeans, sneakers with holes and the soles coming apart. In short, he looked like a reject from a trash bin, and the shirt was Gryffindor colors. He waved his wand and tried to change his clothes back, but he kept croaking like a raven and so the spell failed because he couldn't pronounce it properly.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Rrrawk! Don't just stand—awwk—there! Help me! Rrawk-arck!"

"How? We dunno what they did, Draco," said Goyle.

Draco turned to his Housemates, most of whom were laughing behind their hands. "Hey! Somebody take this—caw, caw—curse off me!"

"Why?" Flint asked coldly from down the table. "We all know what you almost did to the professor's raven. "

Draco opened his mouth to protest, only to find several more pairs of disapproving eyes glaring down at him. Unable to face the censure of his Housemates as well as the amusement of the rest of the student body, Malfoy turned and fled from the hall, vowing revenge on Potter, who not only couldn't keep his fat mouth shut, but who also had sicced his pet Weasleys on him. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make that four-eyed freak pay. Because nobody made a fool out of a Malfoy and got away with it.

Up at the staff table, the talk had turned from familiars to the more practical issue of how to restore the library. Irma nearly waxed poetic over the donations she had already received from students and parents. "I'm delighted to see how the children care about the library. I never expected anything like this!"

"It's really great," Lena agreed. "I've thought of a way to raise even more donations. The students are limited in what they can send, but how about the former Hogwarts alumni? Why not contact them and ask if they wish to contribute? I know several former classmates who would be willing to donate books and Galleons for a good cause."

"Why, that's brilliant, Lena!" Madam Pince praised.

"I could send out letters," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

Severus nodded, for it was a very good idea. She's not only intelligent, but innovative. He was about to suggest that Albus send a letter to the Academy of Potioneers and ask them to donate some of their Advanced Potion Making books when a commotion down the hall caught his attention. What now? Must there be a disturbance almost every meal?

Minerva was also peering down the hall, frowning. "Severus, it would seem some of my lions have pranked one of your snakes. Do you wish to deal with this, or shall I?"

Severus felt a muscle twitch in his temple upon seeing that the butt of the joke was Malfoy, who appeared to have sprouted feathers like a raven and was wearing rags. Clearly, someone fond of Skull had done this. He waved at Minerva. "It's your turn, Minerva. Deal with it as you see fit."

McGonagall rose and stalked down the aisle to her House table just as Malfoy exited the hall.

"Mr. Malfoy! Wait!" she called, but he was already gone. Face grim, she turned to look at her House members, all of whom were sniggering like a pack of inbred hyenas. "Enough! Which one of you did that?"

The Gryffindors stilled and Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked away.

But no one answered her. She pursed her lips. "I have a good idea who started it, Frederick and George." She gave them a severe glower. "Everyone, wands on the table!"

Reluctantly, they all placed their wands on the table, and Minerva cast Priori Incantatum upon them. Both twins wands showed evidence of the prank and she said severely, "I expected better of you two! What reason did you have for playing such a cruel joke on Malfoy?"

"Professor, it'll wear off in a few hours," began George. He didn't tell her about stage three. "Malfoy deserved it after what he did to Harry."

"And he almost killed Skull," added Fred. "Malfoy threw a brush at him and knocked him off his cauldron in detention."

There were murmurs of agreement from the other Gryffindors.

"He's a nasty little snot, hurting a raven that way!"

"That is not for you to judge," Minerva cut in. "I am sure Professor Snape is quite capable of punishing Malfoy on his own, without interference from anyone else. Revenge only breeds resentment and trouble and is not honorable. Misters Weasley, you shall have detention with me this weekend and twenty points from Gryffindor."

Groans followed this statement.

"You're lucky I don't forbid you from playing Quidditch!" she scolded. The twins apologized. "Now where did Mr. Malfoy go off to?" she muttered half to herself.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" Skull cawed.

Minerva spun on him. "Quiet, you impudent rascal! Before I decide that raven is a good appetizer."

Skullduggery squawked, pretending shock. Then he fluttered to her shoulder and crooned, "Pussycat, pussycat I love you!"

The students cracked up.

"Be off with you!" McGonagall ordered, blushing. "You love my shortbread, you wicked thing!"

Skullduggery gave a chuckle, and nibbled at her scarf before taking wing and returning to Severus with a smug look in his eye.

McGonagall left to search for Malfoy, but after twenty minutes returned to the hall, unable to find where he had gone, since he was not in any of the usual places, like the boys bathroom or the Slytherin common room. Since the hexes the twins had cast were not harmful and really would wear off after eight hours, she did not bother turning the castle upside down. Malfoy had most likely crawled into a corner to nurse his wounded dignity and would return to his common room by curfew.

"Too bad that you got caught," Ron said to his brothers. "That prank was brilliant."

"Yeah, it was," agreed Wood. "But you know McGonagall."

"Strict old cat!" muttered someone else.

"But that's not all of it," Fred declared.

"You mean there's more?" asked their little brother.

Both twins nodded. "That was parts one and two."

"Part three will start tomorrow."

"What is it?"

"The Quill of Doom," George smirked.

Percy frowned. "Can you stop it?"

Fred shook his head. "No. It's too late. Quill's already magicked."

"Well, don't come crying to me if she pulls you off the team."

"She wouldn't!" the twins said simultaneously. "Besides, she can't prove we did it. We swapped Malfoy's quill just before dinner."

"Won't he notice?" asked Hermione.

"No, because—"

"—we charmed it to look like his old one. But it's really one—"

"—of old Skull's feathers!"

"What's it going to do?" asked Neville, quivering slightly. "Explode ink all over?"

"You'll see," was all they answered.

The last detention Harry and Malfoy served was also in the library. That night Snape set them to dusting the shelves and sweeping the floor while he, Madam Pince, and Lena tagged and catalogued donations. Malfoy was surly and kept shooting glares at Harry, but he didn't do anything to sabotage the other's efforts. The spell of beggar's rags and raven hair wore off by the end of the night, though during the detention Skullduggery kept flying about Draco's head, cooing, "My, what lovely feathers you have!"

Draco gritted his teeth and ignored the raven, and Skull soon grew bored and flew off to tease Mrs. Norris.

Then Snape came over to inspect their work so far and cancelled the rest of the charm upon Malfoy. Lena approached them as well and introduced herself. They shook hands with her politely and she asked if they would be coming to the library more often to assist them. "I know this is a detention for you now, but you both seem like good workers and we could use all the help we can get. "

"I would be glad to help," Harry said quietly.

"Me too," said Malfoy, making Harry do a doubletake. That was such a shock.

"Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you back again," the young librarian said, then she left them to finish up their task.

Harry liked Lena, she was much more approachable than Madam Pince and whole lot friendlier. He was suspicious of Malfoy's sudden change in attitude, unsure if the blond was really trying to change or just making believe he was. It was a relief when the detention ended and Snape dismissed them after saying that he hoped they had learned their lesson about dueling. Harry checked his watch, discovering it was only eight thirty, which meant he still had time to finish up some homework and then read a bit more in the potions text Snape had allowed him to borrow. It was called Potions for Adventurous Beginners and contained several drafts his standard book did not. He was anxious to also get a decent night's sleep before tomorrow's Quidditch game. Luckily he only had Herbology and Transfiguration tomorrow.

He tucked his watch away in his robe pocket, bid good night to the teachers and hurried off. He didn't notice Malfoy eying him shrewdly before heading in the opposite direction.

The next morning:

Harry yawned his way through breakfast, for despite his resolve to get a good night's sleep, he had gotten sucked into the potions book and had read until his eyes shut and the book fell over his face, finally passing out at close to two in the morning. As a result he was muzzy headed and barely picked at his food. He did remember to drink his Nutrient Suppliment, which didn't taste as awful as it looked.

"What is that nasty looking stuff?" asked Ron, frowning at the greenish sludge clinging to beaker after Harry set it down.

"Nutrient Suppliment. I have to drink it, Pomfrey says I'm deficient in vitamins and minerals."

"Ugh! Does it taste as gross as it looks?"

"No, not really. It's okay." Harry said, pushing his eggs and ham about on his plate, but not really eating any of it.

He should have known better than to try and pull the wool over Snape's eyes though. His unofficial guardian disliked when he skipped meals and soon Skullduggery was landing on his shoulder and hissing into Harry's ear in Snape's silky tones, "You had better quit playing with that food, boy, and eat it or else I shall come and stand over you and watch every bite you put in your mouth and take points for dawdling over breakfast."

"Okay. I'm eating," Harry muttered, and he swallowed a forkful of eggs and ham. He couldn't understand why Snape was so stuck on him eating more. So what if he was a bit small? It made it easier to be Seeker that way. He forced himself to eat half the portion he had taken. Severus had been trying to get him to eat small meals several times a day, hoping to increase Harry's appetite gradually.

Skull nibbled at his hair affectionately. It was then that Harry recalled he had never reminded Severus about going to Gringotts this weekend. "Skull," he whispered. "Can you take a message to Professor Snape for me?"

The raven bobbed his head. "Certainly. Tell me."

"Uh . . .I want to remind him about going to Gringotts this weekend. He said he'd take me so I could give a donation to the library. That's all."

Skull made a sort of tapping noise and then flew off, heading straight for the professor. Harry turned and saw the raven delivering the message to the Potions Master, who nodded in understanding. What a marvelous bird Skull was! He loved Hedwig, but it was infinitely easier to just speak a message to the raven and then send him off with it, rather than having to write with quill and parchment.

Harry finished his pumpkin juice just as Skullduggery came back and told Harry that Snape wished to see him before the Quidditch match in his office. "All right, I'll be there."

"What was that all about?" asked Ron.

"Potions question," Harry replied noncommittally. Since he hadn't accepted Snape's guardianship as yet, he didn't want to act like he had any sort of special relationship with the professor.

"You and your potions, Harry. You're as bad as Hermione." Ron rolled his eyes, then pushed back his plate and rose to his feet. "I wonder what we'll have to Transfigure today? Porcupines into pillows? Mice into baby shoes?"

"I think we're Transfiguring crickets into matchboxes," Hermione said brightly.

"How would you know?" asked Ron.

"I read ahead to chapter five," she replied.

It turned out that Hermione was right, they were Transfiguring crickets into matchboxes.

Harry tried four times before he succeeded in making his matchbox look like a matchbox, not a box with four cricket legs or wings or eyes. He had to admit that Transfiguration wasn't his best subject, unlike potions. However, he wasn't the only one struggling with today's spell. Neville couldn't get much further than a cardboard looking cricket, and Dean and Seamus both couldn't lose their cricket's back legs.

Only Draco succeeded in Transfiguring his cricket on the first try, earning twenty-five points for Slytherin. But the celebratory mood didn't last too long, because after correcting the rest of the students, Minerva went and began to look over the homework they had just handed in while the class copied notes and the new homework off the board.

For awhile, all was silent save for the scratch of quills on parchment. Harry glanced surreptitiously over at Malfoy, wondering if the quill in the other's hand was the one the twins had jinxed. But he couldn't see anything different about it, it looked like an ordinary goose feather.

Then the silence was broken by Professor McGonagall exclaiming, "Mr. Malfoy, what do you mean by this . . .this rubbish? You call this homework, young man?"

Malfoy looked up at her, she looked spitting mad as wet cat. He wore a puzzled look on his face. "What? I don't understand . . .what are you talking about, Professor?"

"What am I talking about?" she said in a dangerously quiet tone. "I am talking about your homework answers, Mr. Malfoy. Question one, describe the three states of matter—you answered I'm not sure but when you're a tabby you tend to cross your eyes and eat dead fish and we all know that combination leads to gas that can make you pass out."

Several students snickered and Minerva continued, glaring at Malfoy. "Shall I go on? Question two—What happens when you transform a solid into liquid? You wrote—Don't you know the answer, you old puss? You should because you've been around the block a few times, or so I've heard."

Gasps came from some of the Gryffindor girls, who then shot Malfoy dirty looks.

"Professor, I-I never wrote that!" Malfoy bleated. But then he hid a smirk, unable to help himself.

"Then this isn't your handwriting?" Minerva demanded, furious. She marched over to Draco and shoved the parchment under his nose. "Well?"

Draco looked down and gulped. "Uh . . .yes, ma'am, it is, but . . .I didn't write this! I was just doing my homework!"

"Oh, really? You know, Mr. Malfoy, lying will only get you in worse trouble."

"I'm not! I wrote the answers with this quill here, and that's all!"

McGonagall snorted. "I'm sure you think this is very amusing, Malfoy. To claim you did your homework and dare to hand this in—I have never been so insulted in my life! Thirty points from Slytherin and it'll be more unless you admit your guilt."

"I can't!" Malfoy cried. "The quill . . .the quill is cursed!" He shook it and shoved it at McGonagall.

The irate witch took the quill and muttered a detection charm on it, but nothing happened. "I highly doubt that, Mr. Malfoy. The quill seems fine. It's your sense of humor I have a problem with." She tapped a line where it said, When you lick yourself does it make you tingly inside? "I will not tolerate this sort of lewdness! You shall serve detention with me this weekend. And re-do all your homework as well."

She stalked back to her desk in a huff, had she been a cat her fur would have been abristle and her tail lashing angrily. The murmuring and snickering died down when she spun around and snapped, "The next person who so much as chuckles will be in detention with me for a week for disrespect. Even if you are in my House."

Everyone went silent, save for Ron who whispered at Harry, "So that's what they did, made his quill write nothing but insults. Merlin, but that's bloody brilliant!"

Harry had to agree. He nearly felt sorry for the other boy, though. Until he recalled how insufferable Malfoy usually was, and then he didn't feel quite so bad. Malfoy was always insulting Ron and Hermione, and he gloated whenever Gryffindor lost points. And whenever he started trouble, he made sure that someone else took the blame for it.

"But Professor . . ." Malfoy was whining. "I swear the quill was jinxed! Look, I'll show you."

He grabbed a sheet of parchment out of his notebook and wrote My name is Draco Malfoy. Then he showed it to her. "Look at that, Ma'am."

McGonagall frowned. "Very funny, Mr. Malfoy."

"You saw something else?"

"No, I see you've written, My name is Draco Malfoy. That quill has no more magic than the goose it was taken from."

Harry exchanged glances with Ron. Neither of them could figure out how the twins had pulled this one off. Unless . . .they had managed to swap out the quills again? But Harry couldn't imagine how they had done it. They weren't in the same House and didn't have access to the Slytherin common room.

"Detention, Mr. Malfoy, tomorrow night. And another ten points from Slytherin for trying to make a fool out of me. Class dismissed!"

They all filed out, the Gryffindors smirking and giggling. Harry started walking towards the stairs, feeling Malfoy's death glare stab him between the shoulderblades. But when he looked back, Malfoy was muttering to Crabbe and Goyle about writing to his father and telling him his son was being treated unfairly.

Ron overheard and brayed, "That's it, Malfoy, go crying home to daddy and tell him how miserable you are."

"Up yours, Weasley!" spat Draco. He hated Ron almost as much as he did Harry right then. Just wait, Potter. Just wait. We'll see who laughs last and goes home crying.