“What’s first?” asked Niamh as she plunked herself down next to Harry at breakfast the next morning, snagging a piece of toast that was teetering on the edge of his plate.

“Divination, followed by Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryff’s,” replied Harry, schedule in one hand and a goblet of pumpkin juice in the other.  “Double Potions in the afternoon.  Alone for once.”

“Wish we had Moody today.  I’d like to see what Mik’s dad can throw out.”

“I can tell you that at lunch,” said Ginny as she sat down across from them.  “I’ve got him second.”

“Cool.  So, Harry, how do you think Trelawney will predict your death this year?”  Niamh grinned at her friend, who scowled in response.

“I couldn’t say.  I just wished I’d dropped it like Mione.”

“Hermione dropped Divination?” gasped Ginny, dropping the piece of toast she’d picked up.

Niamh looked delighted.

“Oh, you were never told?  It was amazing – not that I saw it, but I heard loads about it.  Apparently Hermione walked right out on Trelawney.”

Ginny’s eyes widened.  “Hermione?”

“Yep,” said Niamh proudly, nodding.  “I like to think it’s our good influence.”

“Others would say it’s our bad influence,” said Harry.

“But they don’t have the pleasure of our company, now do they?” asked Niamh with a grin, causing Harry to laugh.

He said, “Too true, Ni, too true.  Speaking of the horrors of the misty tower, let’s get going.  We’ll have to go the long route.  Rowena’s been refusing to let me through he portrait since the twins found the tunnel and almost set her on fire.”

“Ouch.  Remember to tell us about Moody’s class, Gin,” said Niamh as she and Harry rose.

“I will.”

Niamh grinned at her then they headed for Trelawney’s tower.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Well… if that wasn’t the most idiocy I’ve ever heard, I’m Gilderoy Lockhart.”

Harry looked down at the girl beside him and reached up to ruffle her dark hair.  “You’d look good as a blond,” he said in a teasing tone.

“Shut up, you prat.”

“Bint.”

“Git.”

“Prat.”

“Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

“Prat.”

“Are we repeating ourselves now?”

“Ass.”

“Jackass.”

“Fool.”

“Idiot fool.”

“Dummy.”

“Bint.”

“Now you’re repeating yourself.”

“Makes us even, doesn’t it?”

Niamh snorted then said, “Hey, there’s Ron and Hermione.  Ron!  Mione!”

“Hey, you two,” said Ron.

“Where’d you guys come from?” asked Niamh.

“Herbology.  You get to squeeze…what was it?”

“Bubotuber pus,” said Hermione, frowning at Ron.

“Isn’t that a cure for acne?” asked Harry.

“Yes.”

“What do we do in Divination?  I have it double after lunch.”

Niamh blanched at Ron’s words.

“Poor you.  We’ve got charts trying to locate the position of the planet’s at our birth.  Harry got two Neptune’s.”

“Which is impossible,” said Harry.

“Ahhh,” said Ron, lifting a hand and taking on a misty tone, “when two Neptune’s appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a Parselmouth shall be born…”

Niamh chuckled while Hermione cried, “You shouldn’t joke about that, Ron!”

“S’alright, Herm,” said Harry.  “After all…Ni got four Venus’ on hers.”

Ron continued in his misty tone, “When four Venus’ appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a Lady called Hex shall be born…”

“Shut up, you,” growled Niamh and gave Ron a shove out onto the grounds.  “We’ve got Hagrid with you guys again.”

“Don’t they just love to keep pairing our Houses together?”

“What?” said Harry with a wry grin.  “Don’t like our company?  I’m hurt.”

“Oh, nothing wrong with you guys.  It’s Malfoy I could lose.”

“Couldn’t we all,” sighed Niamh.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Later at dinner, the four of them met up again, joined by Ginny, and stood in the line of people trying to get into the Hall.  They had just joined the line when a familiar voice rang out behind them.

“Hey, Weasley!”

They turned and all glared as Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle walked up to them, Draco brandishing a paper.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” growled Ron.

“Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!  Listen to this!”

Further Mistakes at the Ministry

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s trouble

Are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special

Correspondent.  Recently…

Harry cut Draco off by grabbing the paper and setting it on fire, his eyes glinting.  No one noticed he did this wandless as they all took a nervous step back.  Everyone in the school knew of the two Slytherin’s rivalry.

“Hey!” Draco cried.  “I was reading that!”

“Not anymore,” snarled Harry.  “Everything Skeeter writes is trash and I don’t want to hear it.  So why don’t you and Idiots One and Two do hang yourselves and save the rest of us a lot of misery and pain?”

Draco glared at him then looked at Ron again.

“Y’know it included a picture of your parents, Weasley.  Outside that thing you call a ‘house’.  Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”

Ron clenched his fists in fury.  You could almost hear his bared teeth grating against each other.

“And what about your mother, Malfoy?” retorted Niamh, shoving her way between Harry and Ron and glaring.  “That expressions she’s got, like there’s something nasty under her nose?  Is that always there or was it just because you were with her?”

Draco’s cheeks tinged pink as his gray eyes glittered with rage.

“Don’t insult m mother, O’Feir.”

“Then don’t insult ours!” snapped Ginny, trying to get her wand arm (and her wand) free from Hermione’s grip.

Harry sneered at the blonde and had just turned away when something white-hot shot past his face.  He whirled, drawing his wand and shooting off a Stunning Spell just as there was a loud bang and a roar echoed through the entrance hall.

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”

Moody was limping down the marble staircase, his wand out and pointing at a pure white ferret that was now shivering on the floor in the place where Draco had been.

A terrified silence filled the hall.  Moody limped over to them and looked at Harry’s still drawn wand.  He grunted, “Good reflexes,” then asked, “Did he get you?”

“No, sir,” replied Harry, sheathing his wand.  “Malfoy couldn’t hit me if I stood right in front of him with a large, flashing neon sign that said ‘Hit Me’.”

“LEAVE IT!” Moody suddenly shouted.

“Leave what?” asked Niamh.

“Not you, him.”  Moody pointed over his shoulder at Crabbe.  The boy had frozen, about to pick up the ferret, which let out a terrified squeak and made for the dungeons.  Harry eyes Moody’s blue eye, which was rolled back into his head.  It must see through everything, he thought.

“I don’t think so!” roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack on the floor, then bounced upwards once more.

“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned.  Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…”  The ferret bounced higher, squealing in pain.

“Think he’ll break something?” asked Niamh in a whisper, her eyes following the bouncing ferret.

“I hope so,” growled Ginny darkly.

“Never – do – that – again,” said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

“Professor Moody!”

McGonagall came done the marble staircase now, her arms full of books and her eyes wide behind her square-rimmed glasses.

“Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, as thought they were talking over tea.  The ferret bounced still higher.

“What – what are you doing?” asked McGonagall, eyes following the ferret as it hit the floor again and bounced.

“Teaching.”

“Teach – Moody, is that a student?”

“Yep.”

“No!”  McGonagall ran down the stairs and drew her wand; a moment later, Draco reappeared in a heap on the floor, hair all over his now pink face.  As he rose, wincing, Niamh moaned softly, “And I was enjoying that!”

“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!  Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”

“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” said Moody, looking unconcerned.  “But I thought a good sharp shock…”

“We give detentions, Moody!  Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!”

“I’ll do that then.”

Moody looked at Draco, who was looking up malevolently at the professor.  He muttered something that had “my father” somewhere in it and Moody limped toward him, leaning down slightly.

“Your father?  Well, I happen to know your father of old, boy…  You tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me.  Now, your Head of House’ll be Snape, right?”

“Yes,” spat Malfoy.

“Another old friend.  I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape…  Come on, you…”

Moody seized Draco by the arm and marched him off towards the dungeons as McGonagall retrieved her books with her wand and walked off.

“Don’t talk to me,” said Ron as the five of them entered the Great Hall a few moments later.

“Why not?” asked Hermione.

“Because I want to fix that in my memory forever.  Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret…”

Niamh lifted her hand in the air as if to give a toast and cried, “Here, here!”

“He could have really hurt Malfoy though,” said Hermione.

“Who cares?” deadpanned the other four.  Hermione frowned at them then went off in a huff to the Gryffindor table.

“What’s with her?” asked Niamh.

Ron sighed and shook his head.  “Something in the library.  She’d been eating five minutes then heading off there.  See you lot later.”

They separated now, Ron heading for the Gryff’s table, and Harry, Ginny, and Niamh heading for the Slyth’s.  As they sat down, Niamh asked, “So, Gin – how was Moody’s class?”

Ginny beamed and replied, “Great!  Even better that Professor Lupin!”

“Really” said Harry in surprise.  “Lupin’s the best we’ve ever had.”

“It’s amazing.  Professor Lupin was good, but Professor Moody was an Auror (“Snape was an Auror,” said Niamh, earning an elbow in the ribs from Harry).  He’s actually been out there doing what he teaches!”

Niamh rubbed her hand together gleefully.

“I can’t wait.  When’ve we got him, Harry?”

Harry reached into his bag for his schedule.

“Friday,” he said in a surprised voice.

Niamh’s head hit the table with a loud thump.