VOLDEMORT:

*click*

*clack*

*click*

The imposing clacking of the snakeskin boots richocheted down hallways as silent as death. Most of the death eaters were not present, scampering and skittering off on missions for their most exalted Lord of Darkness.

'Well enough. I tire of their constant impertinence...'

Afterall, in the end, only few of his servants--out of hundreds, possibly thousands--were truly worthy in his eyes.

He counted them off in his mind...

'Wormtail for his furtive nature...Lucius for his money...Bellatrix for her abject devotion...'

There he stopped. Surely there were others that were of practical use, but he just didn't feel like continuing on his list. Listing people implied close relations, and close relations were of no use to him.

"hm?"

The Dark Lord turned his snake-like head, and slitted his already thin blood-red eyes.

"Bellatrix! come forth for your report!"

BELLATRIX:

Bellatrix, who had recently gotten back from her spying mission, walks in from a side room, putting a couple blood lollipops into her pocket. She approaches the Dark Lord and bows, removing her hood.

"Well, my lord, they have replaced the dementors at Azkaban with many highly trained wizards. There are also several Hippogriffs on guard on the roof, and a sea serpent that circles the island has been trained to attack intruders. I have found there also to be several hexes sprinkling the ground all around the facility."

She pauses here to scratch the back of her head fiercely. "They're not so bad, but they're terribly distracting. I have observed the ministry wizards patrolling the grounds, and they are not affected by the hexes because of a band they wear around their wrist. I have one that I managed to get." She pulls a flexible blue band out of her pocket and hands it to Voldemort. "I probably would have gone absolutely mad without it if I had any more doses of that hex. I imagine it would also be useful for you.

"Anyway, sea serpents, though gentle by nature can be trained as this one has. I have found though, through my research, that such serpents can be lulled into a long deep sleep by the singing of a mermaid. So I figure we can kidnap one and force her to sing. I have also found a potion that can be sprayed into the air that will make the hippogriffs too weak to do a thing, and then we can take the dementors and the giants to help us take care of the ministry wizards. Unless, of course, my lord has a better plan." She says sincerely with a smile and a bow, patiently awaiting his response.

LUNA:

As a summer breeze gently wafted through her star-patterned curains, Luna Lovegod awoke from her dreamfilled slumber with a pleased, hazy look on her face...

"Well, Mother, it was nice seeing you again..." she mumbled. She let out a great yawn, and stretched her round arms high above her head, so as to fully awaken hersefl to the coming of a new day. With her next breath, Luna sharply felt awake, as the scent of lavendar became part of her consciousness.

"Thats strange," she remarked. "I thought I had bewitched that candle to stop burning once I fell asleep." As an afterthought, she added, "better have Father check it," ever mindful of the rule that Hogwarts students shouldn't practice magic over the summer.

Eyes fully alert, Luna surveyed her small, cluttered room, walls adorned with posters of various mythologial animasl, famous wizards, and favorite covers of "the Quibbler," a magazine her father ran.

"Bother,"she said, sounding surprised. "I'm supposed to help Father with the magazine today. I wonder what time it is.." However, instead of searching for some sort of time-telling paraphenalia, Luna simply got out of bed and proceeded to get dressed. Once fully attired in her summer wear, which consisterd of her lucky butterbeer cap necklace, radish earrings, embroidered chopsticks (to hold up her hair with) and pale green tunic, Luna snuffed our her scented candle and proceeded downstairs to the basement. It was here that her father single-handedly put together all the stories they received for "The Quibbler" and put it into magazine format, ready for sale and distribution. Lately, the job had gotten much easier, as Mr. Lovegood had made a killing off a recent story they sold to "The Daily Prophet," and he had used the money to buy better equipment for the magazine. Luna smiled dreamily, remembering the time. And to imagine, Harry Potter had helped him get that money. Well...Hermione Granger had helped too. In her opinion, Hermione's lack of openmindedness (as Luna preffered to call it) made her annoying sometimes.

Luna gracefully descended into the well-lit, althought still slightly murky-feeling basement. Even though her necklace had made clinking sounds all the way down the stairs, her father hadn't noticed her entrance into the room. "Alright, Father, what am I to do today?" she querried, although she had a suspicsion that she knew the answer already. Still her father didn't notice her, as he was deeply engrossed in some papers before him, presumably dealing with the financial aspect of the magazine. Luna looked about. She saw a stack of papers with a somewhat messily-handwritten note scrawled on it.

"Luna--

These are for you. You know what to do

--Father."

Luna picked up the pile, and began scanning the tops of the pages.

"LEPRECHAUNS SPOTTED PLAYING GUITAR AT A ROCK CONCERT IN NORTHERN BRITAIN--Finnigus Marcellus."

Luna sighed. "Everone knows that leprechaus are musically gifted. This article might as well go in The Daily Prophet.," and proceeded to place that story into the recycling pile.

"GIANT SPIKED FISH SEEN FLYING OVER AFRICA--Alicia Holsworth"

"My, it seems like such a shame that we ran this story in our last edition, " commented Luna, and put this article in the same place as the prior one.

"ILLEGAL SMUGGLING OF MAGIC CARPETS DISCOVERED FROM THE TESTIMONY OF VEELAS CRUELLY ENSLAVED--Eleanor Liftcuft."

At this headline, Luna's already queerly large eyes opened even wider in interest, and she began reading the article. Soon, tears filled her eyes, as she read the heartfelt story of two veela sisters, who, separated through slavery, found each other again after both escaping their terrible masters in France, where they had been forced to smuggle magic carpets there *where they are currently illegal* The story reminded Luna how she didn't have any siblings. That kinda made her feel lonely. Luna decidedly put this story in the "keep" pile, and added another note that said "cover"

Much of the day continued this way, and Luna found many more articles to her likeing, and several others she felt did not deserve to be printed. Others she decided ought to be postponed till the next issue. It seemed as though the quibbler was gaining in popularity, and more people were sending in articles. Not htat LUna minded, however. She quite enjoyed reading each one through...she could sit there for hours on end just reading all the articles...

After several hours, Luna realised that the darkness of night had enveloped her part of the world. It was rather difficult to tell sometimes, when inside a basement, where the sunlight could never press through. By that time, her father had finished all the other articles, and had started looking through possible pictures to use for the cover. Quickly, Luna handed him the veela story, saying that it would make a great cover article, then headed upstairs for the kitchen. In her excitement over the stories, she had forgotten to eat that day. She quickly remedied that, by preparing a fast dinner for herself.

After a sumptuous dinner of bannanas, bread, and green beans, Luna retired to her room for her evening meditation.

"Bother...I forgot about the candle," she said, reffering to the aforementioned supposed-to-be-bewitched-but-apparently-not-candle. So she lit her chamomile-scented candle instead, and meditated on life, the universe, people, those poor veelas, the horned fire-breathers.....

Within twenty minutes time, Luna had already fallen asleep.

~~**~~

Luna woke up again, after having a great day picking articles yesterday. Today would involve compiling them and finding pictures to match the stories. She yawned, stretching her arms out as far as they could reach. She wondered how they would get a picture of the veelas for the cover story--her father would probabally write the author back asking for a good one. NOt completely awake, Luna noticed that her lavendar candle was still burning again--she had been so busy yesterday that she forgot to ask her father about the charm. He had been so busy the other day too, so she supposed he wouldn't have done anything about it even if she had asked him. With that thought in mind, she exited her room, still wearing her pajamas, and headed downstairs to the breakfast-table.

Surprisingly, her father was also at the table. That he was eating breakfast could only mean one thing--he'd finished the magazine already, without her. She sighed, and thought 'I guess i'll just have to see what it looks like when it comes out...' She looked over at her father, who seemed intent on reading what the daily prophet had in store today. 'Hm...' she wondered, spreading cherry jam on her morning toast. 'That's odd. He doesn't look at the prophet often.' She stuffed the bread into her mouth, and savored the taste. The only time she remembered him really poring over it like he was now was when they had printed the story about Harry, and his escape from death eaters. Oh well. Her father could have his strange moments, especially considering he must have stayed up all night finishing the magazine without her. 'He probabally doesn't realise what he's reading...' Luna mused.

Thinking about the Harry Potter exclusive interview had given Luna a great idea. She hadn't talked to him since the school year had ended--she wondered how he was doing now.

"Father?" she asked, looking intently at his bald head which stuck out from behind the newspaper. He didn't respond. She tugged down the paper, and looked at his eyes directly, with her own wide ones. "Father?" he jumped, as though he had just awaken.

"Yes Luna?"

"Would you happen to know where Harry Potter lives?"

"Hm? Potter? ...O! That boy we interviewed? a fine lad, isn't he?"

"Yes, a fine lad indeed, father. Do you know where he lives?"

"Hrm..." he got up slowly and looked through some parchments scattered about the room, finally coming across a book. "Well," he said, putting the book on the table groggily, "it should be listed in the silver pages," mentioning the book listing the designated homes of all the registered witches and wizards in the world. Every witch and wizard had a choice to be listed to everyone, to only friends, or to no one at all. *the latter choice often occurred when one of the magical folk didn't register with the ministry.

"Thank you, father," LUna said, taking the book from the table, and bringing it up to her room. From behind her, she heard him say.."Your welcome...eh? what's this...the prophet? ...What's it doing on the table?"...and smiled. She put the book on the bed, wondering which way of registry Harry had taken. Or if he had taken any registry at all. She'd heard a rumor that Harry didn't know too much about the wizarding ways of the world, and hoped that he was registered...

..'Potter...Potter...Potter...ah. Harry Potter.' she tapped the name with her finger. Then the letters of the pages shifted and made the question, "What is your name?" she wrote, with her finger, "Luna Lovegood." Then the letters re-shifted, becoming an address. She smiled. It seemed as though someone had put Harry's registry on "friends"--although she wondered who.

Luna got out her purple-jelly-quill , and began writing her letter.

Dear Harry--

How has your summer been so far? I suppose you're probabally counting the days to when school starts already--at least, I am. I can't wait for classes to get started again, and I've been itching to use my wand all summer. The Quibbler has become really successful for my father and me since we published that article about you--and even more successful when we sold it to the Prophet. I really can't thank you enough for accepting to be interviewed. What kinds of classes will you be taking this year? Or have you gotten yuour letter yet? I hear that sixth years have completely different schedules from the previous years. I wonder myself what I'll end up doing in my sixth year, even though I'm entering my fifth year.

~hope to get a reply soon!

~sincerely,

~~Luna Lovegood.

ps: oh ya, happy birthday too.

with her letter finished, Luna folded it, and put on her custom-made seal with a special "L" on it, then sent it off with her owl. Then she headed back downstairs, remembering about her candle.

BILL:

Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade Day one

From where Bill Weasley was sitting at a table, legs stretched before him comfortably and hands clasped at his waist, he figured he'd have about five to ten minutes before Remus Lupin showed up. If the other man was as punctual as he remembered him from the few Order meetings they had attended, then he wouldn't be kept long, which was a good thing. Bill was very much in danger of dozing off where he sat, and from past experience, he didn't want to face Madam Rosmerta's wrath when she saw him sawing logs like a bum with no home to go back to.

A small smile curving his lips, he murmured, "Though I didn't mind when she hauled me up and carried me off..."

Shifting slightly, he tried to bring up a mental image of the man he would be working with for the next year. Remus, if he remembered correctly, had kind, smooth features, though they were lined around the edges and had an overall tired sheen to them. He supposed that came with the territory of being a werewolf and being practically chased from every job by burning torches and pitchforks. It was stupid, really. Prejudice only got people in fits of temper and eventually behind bars for extreme disorderly conduct.

Not to mention they made total prats of themselves, and left the person they were targeting either feeling horrible or vindictive. Neither were very productive.

Society, as a whole, was largely regressive. He'd seen it happen in daily life, he'd seen it happen at work, and even now, in the Ministry of Magic. In his personal opinion, Fudge either needed to get his act together or step out of a position of power, because stupidity breeding stupidity was never a good thing. People who had no business leading intelligently didn't need to be sitting on a cushion of influence.

"Oh well," Bill said to himself, eyes fluttering shut as he waited. "Not like there's much I can do from here."

So saying, he absently rubbed one boot up his leg to scratch it, and decided to give up the losing battle of staying awake. Remus could either wake him up, leave him, or do something hideously embarrassing and then leave him. He sincerely hoped it wasn't the last one; the last thing he wanted to do was wake up with underwear on his head and his shirt up around his neck or something similar.

Not that he thought Remus would. It was just an entertaining image.

REMUS:

Remus paused as he stepped inside the doorway. An unexpected delay had made him slightly late. Looking around for Bill, he eventually spotted him slumped at a corner table. His appearance was ruffled as he had been rushing to get here.

Slowly weaving his way across the room, Remus tried not to look at the other patrons as he passed. Finally he reached the table and sat down with a sigh of relief.

The creak of the chair made no impact. Dropping his case by his feet, he smiled up at the girl who had come across to take his order. Once she had left, Remus leaned over and tapped Bill firmly on the arm.

HARRY:

It was the night of Harry's birthday and thins year he wanted to ignore it. However, Hedwig flew through the window laden down with envelopes. harry turned to his owl, and thanked he, but places the envelopes on the table and turned back to gazing out the window.

Eventually, Hedwig came over to him, and pushed her head against his sleeve. he followed her gaze, and with a resigned sigh, reached over.

"Ok, I'll open them then, he muttered.

Slitting open the first envelope, Harry drew out a card. As he opened it, a folded slip of paper dropped out onto his desk. It was from Hermione, and as he read it, he smiled slightly to read about her news.

The next one was from Ron, and was full of humour over the antics of Fred and George. As Harry chuckled over the letter, he reached across and grabbed one that had slipped off the pile.

This one was from Ginny. Slowly opening it, he read the enclosed message with a smile. It repeated a little that Ron had said, but she talked about her summer plans and her hopes for the coming year.

As Hedwig watched, Harry eventually finished reading his birthday mail and sat staring out of the window at the street below. This year was looking promising after all.

Harry finally sighed as he turned to pick up a quill and reply to his letters. The first one he picked up was from Luna, and dipping his quill in ink, he began to write.

When he had finished writing, he sealed the envelopes and gave them to Hedwig who clamped them in her beak, and flew off out the window.

HERMIONE:

Hermione had been on holiday with her parents for the past 2 weeks, though she had been throughly enjoying herself; she couldnt help but let her mind wander to her friends and the rest of the wizarding world.

Her day's so far this summer had been filled with sight seeing, and her family. Her nights had been filled with letter writing. Before she left on holiday she and her parents had went to Diagon Alley and she had bought herself an owl. She was tired of always having to wait for her friends to write and use their owl for the return trip. Crookshanks had a little trouble adjusting to the new addition.

"Crookshanks, NO!" Hermione squealed while Crookshanks chased Zell around the room. The window was closed, so Zell had no escape. Crookshanks took one final leap off the bed and smothered Zell. "No! Crookshanks, get off him!" Hermione ran over and got Zell away from Crookshanks who proceeded to try and catch Zell while Hermione was holding him. Hermione walked to the window to let Zell out, she then turned to Crookshanks who was now rubbing up against her leg. She knew it was almost pointless to try and explain to him again, but she had to try. She took a seat and Crookshanks jumped into her lap, now purring. "Crookshanks, Zell is part of the family now. You have to stop chasing him." She set him down and started working on a letter to Ron. '

*Hello Ron. How's your summer been? Crookshanks has been having a hard time adjusting to Zell, I hope they'll get along sooner or later. How's things with, well.. Snuffles house? I am looking forward to joining you all a bit later in the summer. My parents have been overwhelming me a bit, there hasnt really been a day to relax, or to read the new texts. I always feel a bit secluded when I'm with Muggles now, I assume Harry feels the same. I don't know anything that is going on since I'm not home, I don't even get the Daily Prophet since I'm not at home, Mum thought it would be best not to have another owl flying to the hotel everyday - it was hard enough to get them to let Zell stay. I hope nothing to extreme has happened since... well, you know. I look forward to recieving a letter from you. I better go now, See-you soon!

Yours Truly,

Hermione*

She sealed the letter and went to the window. Zell had been waiting on the window sill, "Sorry about him Zell." She said while tieing the letter to his ankle, he cooed as if he could understand her. "Take this to Ron... uhm, you know where he is." She smiled and patted him on the head before he took off.

She got into bed and started thinking a bit about what could be going on with her friends. Before she got to wrapped up in her thoughts she dozed off.

BILL:

Without even opening his eyes, one corner of Bill's mouth lifted as he said, "No need to give me bruises. I'm up."

Slowly unfolding his arms and legs, Bill straightened and opened his eyes, grinning slightly at the man before him. Yep, Remus Lupin was a lot like he remembered him--genteel, a bit weary, but alogether a handsome man. Not that Bill intended to do anything about that last particular fact. It generally wasn't good practice to flirt with you new employees, especially when they happened to be of the same gender you were.

Though today, he did look a little rushed and windblown, no doubt so that he wouldn't be any later than he was. Which wasn't much. Bill could look the other way when someone was just about two minutes late.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, folding his hands in front of him. "Sorry about that. I was up late last night poring over long neglected spellbooks." His expression turned comical. "Spellbooks thicker than any person should ever have to attempt to read sanely, in my honest opinion."

REMUS:

Good afternoon." Remus responded. Lifting his case to the table he snapped the clasp open and took out some parchments. Returning the case to the floor, Remus smiled at the girl who arrived with his drink.

As she walked away, Remus continued. "Shall we make a start then? I understand that werewolves feature in the first part of the year, so I have made some personal notes about growing up and the changes involved." Remus then pushed several pieces towards Bill.

"I thought it might be more real to add the personal side to it. However, I don't know about locating a vampire to help." Remus smiled wryly.

BILL:

Nodding, Bill lifted the pieces of parchment and began to scan them, listening with half an ear as Remus spoke to him. Growing up in as large a family as he had, he'd gotten used to multi-tasking, and was perfectly capable of reading and listening at the same time as long as he didn't try to catch every word of each.

"I thought it might be more real to add the personal side to it. However, I don't know about locating a vampire to help." Remus smiled wryly

At this Bill glanced up, grinning with one side of his mouth. "I'm afraid I don't know any, either. Though to hear my brothers tell it, Professor Snape would be a prime candidate." Bill rolled his eyes briefly before turning back to the papers.

In all realities, Bill didn't have anything against Severus. After all, he'd gone to school with the man. He hadn't had to suffer through Potions class with him at the helm, and all things considered, he was glad for it. Though Ron, Fred, and George could all be prone to over-exaggeration, there had been several accounts of how strict and demanding he was. Not that Bill thought it was a bad thing--he didn't intend to let the students skate by in Defense Against the Dark Arts by any means--but there was a fine line between being strict and being downright lethal. And playing favorites in Houses was definitely not something he intended to practice.

Though it would be interesting to see Severus again. He'd never really talked to him when they were in school, considering Bill had been a first year when the other man had been a fifth year, but if he was going to be on staff, he'd need to get along with everyone. As he generally didn't have any trouble in that department, he figured Severus Snape was just one more hurdle to bound over.

Sliding back to seriousness, Bill gestured with the papers in hand. "If you like, I've got some friends that I could talk to and probably try to scrape some stuff up on vampires from. You meet all sorts at Gringotts, not to mention the Ministry," he added wryly. "For now, all I've got with me is the lesson structure we owled about, and I wanted to make sure it checks out."

Shifting, Bill reached for a small pouch at his side and withdrew a couple of pieces of paper, folded about four times into a small square. He opened them and set them down on the table, attempting to smooth out the creases before just giving up and passing them over.

VOLDEMORT:

Voldermort surveyed his servant with a calm and blood-red gaze.

"Yes...I can see the usefullness of this band" he hissed, lifting it gingerly from Bellatrix's hand as he spoke, "But for the Hippogriffs...They scare too easily to have to waste so much effort on them. Rather than weaken them" he mused, almost more to himself than to his servant, "rather, our strength in invoking chaos shall come from their destructive power at full force--a few stark-raving mad Hippogriffs are well enough to keep the inner guard busy enough to not notice outside efforts..."

The Dark Lord turned to face the wall--a wall of scaly stone and brocaded tapestry. His thin, wiry, and sharply pointed fingers of his left hand trailed down the tapestry, tracing the snake figures it portrayed. "And kidnapping a mermaid? One act of hostility towards a creature as that and we alienate the rest from our services...No, we shall work our way with the sea serpent another way...If we work hard enough, we may not even have to bother with the great snake of waters."

His snakelike head pivoted slowly in the direction of Bellatrix. "Your reports," he stated while idly fingering the blue band in the claws of his right hand, "have proven to be of great service to out goal. Now, go seek out Wormtail---I have a task for him--and continue dilligently with your services."

Voldermort tossed the bracelet up in the air and caught it with his other hand, as he slank off further down the hal.

"Tell Wormtail that I await his presence in the Sun observatory"

BLAISE:

Blaise stared up at the high ceiling of his room. He looked at the spiraling pattern--a green snake and a silver snake spiraling themselves together until their heads met at the center.

"Feh. Can't father get a little bit more creative than this? ...Wait..wait.."

Blaise felt a small twinge of inspiration. He smiled as he reached over to his bedside table--lying down on his big and poofy feather bed with black, green and silver comforters--and clasped his hands over a heavy quill.

"ready..." Blaise held the quill at an angle pointing straight up.

"Aim..." He steadied it, squinting his eyes and focusing on the point where the two snake heads met.

"Avolare!" Blaise smoothly ejected the quill upwards and watched as it struck. He frowned.

"Bollucks, got the green blighter's eye...Ah well! Hup!"

Blaise pushed himself up from his bed into a sitting position and looked at the clock--the very gothic-esque clock, mind you, that his father had sent over all the way from Bulgaria. Or whatever. Blaise only knew it was a clock that was far too fancy than necessary..that said it was 6 in the morning.

"Aaah...not this early in the morning...grarg" Blaise ran his fingers through his light brunette hair and rubbed his green eyes. He indignantly stared back up again at the ceiling as if it were to blame for him being up so early during the summer.

he heard the all-too-familiar tramping of footsteps up to his room and the door swinging wide open. His mum, of course.

"Blaise, do you know--"

"EEEEEEE!!!!! MUM!" Blaise's obviously staged outcry nonetheless shocked his almost always stoic mother.

"What the--"

Blaise wrapped himself up in his bedcovers. "Mum! how many times to I have to say not to come in without knocking! I might have been...anything! Indecent! Chewing paper! kissing my reflection! anything that I don't want you to see!!" He pouted most profusely. "What business do you have barging in here so early in the morning, anyways??"

His mother sighed. "Blaise, I'm your mother. Whenever I want to visit you in your dorm is my right and priveledge, and it's your responsibility to be respectable at all times. Honsestly...my main reason for coming here is--your father is missing his prized quill. Have you seen it?"

Blaise stared at his mother indignantly. "Quill?"

"Yes. A rather heavy quill, mind you--made from a high quality breed of grouse feathers. Have you seen it?"

Blaise scowled at his mother. "You know father never lets me touch his things, even less see them. Of course I haven't seen it anywhere, whatever it looks like."

His mother merely huffed at him, whacked Blaise with her fan and chided him for talking about his father like that. She then made to leave the room, but stopped at the door. "Have you written any of your friends yet? Like that lovely young Malfoy...such a darling...or that Parkinson girl? They're good family friends of ours, you know."

Blaise looked pensive. "Actually, that's a good idea, mum. Just...I haven't been able to find a quill nice enough to do the job." He smiled. His mother merely scoffed at him. "you better hurry down to breakfast, young man! And I want you presentable!!"

Blaise shrugged as his mother slammed his bedroom door behind her, and listened as her footsteps receeded.

"Good thing she never looks up."

BELLATRIX/WORMTAIL:

"Yes my lord." Bellatrix called to Voldemort's retreating form. She turned and stalked down the hall, quietly singing to herself, 'Wormtail, Wormtail, where art thou Wormtail? I know thou art somewhere in this compound. Wormtail, Wormtail, what is it doing? Is it doing its master's bidding? We shall see, we shall see, as soon as we find the Wormtail, Wormtail.'

She turned into a narrow passageway and pulled back a tapestry. Behind it was a small room with walls lined with books on dark magic. A small, balding man with watery eyes and a silver hand was sitting on a cushion in the middle of the floor, reading. When he saw Bellatrix leaning into the room, we quickly hid the book in his robes.

"What are you doing?" hissed Bellatrix, peering at him with eyes slanted in suspicion and dislike.

"Researching." Squeaked Wormtail quickly.

"A likely story." sneered Bellatrix, whipping out her wand, "Accio, book!"

The novel lept out of Wormtail's robes. He made a feeble attempt to grab it as it sailed into her hand. "Researching what?" she asked, as she flipped through the battered copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

"Well, I was just taking a little break..." Wormtail flustered.

"Hmph. At least you dogeared the parts with the ringwraiths and such. Anyway. Big V is waiting for you in the Sun Observatory." Bellatrix said as she threw the book at him. Wormtail grunted as the book slammed into his chest, and stuffed it in his robes as he scurried out of the room.

Bellatrix watched him go down the hall with distaste. She'd never liked rats. After he turned the corner, she walked swiftly in the opposite direction to the room she was staying in to prepare to leave again. It was irritating, because Voldemort never gives her direct instructions and so she never really knows what she's supposed to do. Sigh.

REMUS:

"Well, regarding Snape, considering the events two years ago, I'm not the one to ask him, if that's the case." Remus smiled slightly. "I suppose you could ask him if he knew any though."

Sobering, Remus added. "However, professor Snape has enough secrets of his own."

Looking down, he quickly read through the parchment Bill had given him. "This is a really good start." Gazing back at Bill, he continued. "When did you want to start? Perhaps a day a week until we switch? That could give you a chance to find your feet, so to speak."

BILL:

Sobering, Remus added. "However, professor Snape has enough secrets of his own."

To this, Bill agreed completely. Everyone had secrets, and he wasn't the type of person to go probing through matters best left alone. From what Bill remember of the man, he practically adored his solitude, and that was his own business.

Looking down, he quickly read through the parchment Bill had given him. "This is a really good start." Gazing back at Bill, he continued. "When did you want to start? Perhaps a day a week until we switch? That could give you a chance to find your feet, so to speak."

Pursing his lips briefly, Bill considered the question. That would give him two days to teach before Remus had to take time off due to his... condition. Though, Remus shouldn't be completely out of it for two entire weeks, so if he needed anything, he supposed he could always go trotting off to him and pester him with questions.

"That sounds good to me. Later in the week though, right? So I can see how you do things and get a basic structure for how I'm going to torture the kids." A wicked gleam shifted in his eyes, but passed before he cleared his throat. "Er, teach them. Anyway. You're not going to be inaccessible for the entire two weeks, right? So if it gets to the point where they've hung me upside down by my shorts you can come restore order, right?" He added, winking.

REMUS:

Remus smiled. "I don't expect to be unreachable. I'm just not to be near any students in that time. I'll be ok when the full moon is not in view, but the days either side give a safety margin."

Looking across at Bill. "First time teaching is scary, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

DRACO:

Draco lounged on his bed looking sulkily out of the window. The summer holidays hadn't exactly been incredible or anything. He had spent it all with only his mother for company, since his father was locked away in Azkaban. His mother had been in contact with some death eaters - he didn't know who, but he suspected it was Bellatrix; she was his mother's relative after all - and they had apparently assured her that Lucius would be aided out of prison soon.

Of course, Draco had been much happier with that news, but still, it wasn't enough. They'd never have an unsullied name now - at least before, what had been suspected wasn't confirmed. Now, anything Malfoys ever did would be looked upon with suspicion. Instead of respect, they commanded scorn.

Draco scowled again. He wasn't particularly fond of Voldemort's plans for war, but he did agree that purebloods were superior, that muggles were worthless and that money could get you anywhere. Plus, the dark arts...were seductive. While he didn't worship Voldemort, the ideals were there.

He sighed slightly and wished any one of his slytherin friends would send him an owl. Even if it was one of the kids he disliked or was in contempt of, at least it would occupy his mind for a bit, and he'd be able to think about anything else than his father, Voldemort, or the Golden Trio. He almost couldn't wait for school to start.

BELLATRIX:

Bellatrix Lestrange held her invisibility cloak close as she slowly picked her way through the streets of Hoggesmeade, very careful not to bump anyone, make anything move, or leave any footprints. She clutched her wand, completely prepared to throw out a curse and dissaparate if anything happened. She had decided to spy in Hoggesmeade, and one of the best and most difficult places was the Three Broomsticks. Difficult, because it was always crowded. Bellatrix hated skulking though and she didn't do it often. It required patience, and silence, and Bellatrix was very good at sneaking and being silent, but she had little patience. She vastly preferred facing her prey face to face. Waiting outside the door waiting for someone to open it for her reminded her how much she loathed sneaking, and she resolved to do something more rash next time. Or maybe in 10 minutes. She was having difficulty containing herself already. In the middle of her argument with herself over whether she should just open the door or not, a wizard with tattered robes and a briefcase came up and pulled open the door. Bellatrix swiftly slipped in without touching the door, making sure she was completely covered by the cloak.

The pub was dark, like she remembered. It had been a very long time since she had last been here. Instead of risking moving through the room, she sidled into the nearest corner. It was dark, and quite unoccupied. She pointed her wand at herself, and whispered, "'exinaudio'". Immediately, the quiet indiscernible babble of the pub increased in volume to a loud indiscernible babble. Bellatrix gazed around the room and landed on a group of two wizards and a witch. She focused on this group until their voices became intelligible from the rest of the babble that faded back into the background. She could hear their conversation as clearly as if she were sitting at the table with them.

She listened until she decided that they weren't likely to talk of anything other than the latest quidditch match. Her gaze shifted to the next table, where two wizards were talking to each other. One of them was the wizard she followed in, and he looked very familiar. She listened to their conversation for a bit, all the while staring at the older man, agonizing over where she had seen him before. It appeared that the two would be jointly teaching the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year. "I wish they wouldn't." She thought, "But then again, they wouldn't be much fun if they didn't know anything. But where have I seen him before?" Listening intently, picking up allusions, she began to draw the conclusion that the older man was a werewolf. "That would explain the state of his robes." she thought. "I wonder what it would be like to be a wolf. I've heard the transformation is painful, but it must be wonderfully exhilarating to be a ferocious monster like that."

This train of thought was stopped by Bellatrix's sudden realization of where she had seen the werewolf before. He was one of the wizards who came and stopped them from getting the prophesy in the department of mysteries not three months ago. "How very interesting." Bellatrix mused. "How fun it would be to eliminate an enemy, probably two, right here and now. Leaving Dumbledore without a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

BLAISE:

Blaise threw on a loose white shirt and ambled over to his "workspot" (desk). He opened up one of the drawers and--lo and behold--anyone who might have been spying would have seen that his "quill dearth" reasoning earlier was but a farce.

"Let's see....Malfoy..."

Without sitting down, Blaise reflected on what he knew about Malfoy.

"better make the ink green, then.."

Blaise licked the tip of his quill before dipping it into his spiffy green ink, and scratched out a few lines on another piece of paper before writing his letter to Draco Malfoy:

To Draco Malfoy:

How has your summer been? Hopefully not as dreary as mine...what with a mother attempting to corner me for the theft of my father's pen (guilty) and maids accusing me of eating chocolate frogs before meals (guilty). But I digress.

Have you had much contact with any of our other comrades over the summer? If you have, well, Bugger, tell them that they seemed to have forgotten someone on their "must-bloody-update" owling list.

Perchance, when school draws closer, if you have not already done so, or unless it would interfere with some high regalia family tradition (I'm making great pains to not be intrusive, elsewise Mum dearie will do a series of unforgivables), then we could, along with others, go to get the proper school materials for the upcoming year.

~~Blaise Zambini

Blaise flapped the paper around for to dry it faster, then took a gander at the paper to examine for anything that might be...wrong.

"Sounds like the proper type of bull that Mum would approve of me sending. Not that I'm going to send this by her, no..."

Blaise then turned from his desk and trotted over to the window, opening it wide. An owl of creamy-brown flew in, taking Blaise by surprise.

"Duzell? Hullo, here I thought that Mum had sent you off to Bulgaria for a spit...Well, C'mon then" Blaise offered his arm to his owl friend, and when the owl had clambered up his arm, Blaise went to the stash of owl treats he had in the trunk at the foot of his bed. Duzell greedily gobbled down all offered sweeties, which Blaise smirked at.

"Quite a store of energy, eh? Well then!" Blaise rolled up the aforementioned parchment and handed it to the brown owl. "Get this to Malfoy manner, will you? It's not that far of a trip.."

The owl happily grasped the parchment and flew out the window, and Blaise watched it dissappear into the distance.

*sigh*

"....Bugger!! I forgot about breakfast--Ah, shiz!!"

Blaise, in a rampant fury, then began to further throw himself together.

DRACO:

Draco wasn't the type to jump for joy, rather he was more of the type to look at a gift through sullen, suspicious eyes and conjecture how much he'd hate it *before* opening it. And this was no exception. When the owl flew through his window, he hurried to it, muttering under his breath, "If it's Goyle and one of his stupid letters again I swear I'm hexing him into next week through post."

He reached for it and looked briefly at the handwriting - it was familiar, but definitely not Crabbe or Goyle's - and at the ink. Green. Well, whoever it was had gotten it right, that was for sure. That meant it wasn't any of the stupid acquantances in his year, thank god. He started feeling better disposed towards the sender of the letter. He let the owl leave - he'd use his own eagle owl if he wanted to reply. She never failed to impress people.

He opened it, eyes straying to the name before anything else. Blaise. Blaise Zambini. Okay, that was better than some of the others he could have mentioned. He started reading from top, mouth twitching slightly upwards occasionally.

After reading it through a few times, he decided there was no time better than the present, and sat down at his expensive desk. Pulling out high quality paper, he started writing back. He could have dictated his letter to one of those fancy quills, of course, but he liked his handwriting, and it would take him longer, which meant that he'd have to return to his dreary contemplation of life later rather than sooner.

Blaise,

Unfortunately, I have to say that I *have* had contact with our fellow Slytherins - but after the third letter I threatened Crabbe and Goyle - extensively - and they stopped sending. I don't need to remind you of their horrible penmanship and spelling, although I could probably scare you with their accounts of their summer. Trust me, you haven't missed much.

As for meeting up before school to restock our school supplies, who's coming along? There are a few others I'd prefer not to meet before I'm forced to integrate with them (rather than hex them) at school, but if I don't mind the rest of the company, I'll be along. Mum isn't quite in the mood for it, as you can imagine, and spends her days sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for news of dad.

I've spent most of my time practising. Not potions - those can be drastic without supervision, as Professor Snape has tried drilling into our brains endlessly - but the rest, I've been keeping in shape. [Not much bloody else to do, Draco thought, a bit sourly. There wasn't even Dobby to help him practise Quidditch...and besides, he had sworn to never let the golden trio get another one over him again. Goyle and Crabbe seemed like good for nothing but as physical shields, seeing that at this age Potter and his friends were more likely to use curses and hexes rather than fists. Well, Potter and the Mudblood at least, the Weasel seemed to have little or no brains sometimes.]

Feel free to write any time. With the bloody Ministry watching our every move, we've barely been out of the house or had visitors, and while I'm not pining for company, some above-average interaction has been sorely missed. [And that was about as far as he'd go hinting that Blaise had better write back or else.]

Obviously, the one and only,

Draco Malfoy

Draco read it through critically. Okay, not too bad, even if he said so himself. He debated about sending it immediately or waiting until later, so that Blaise would get the impression he actually had things to do apart from sitting around being bored and wishing desperately for contact with his Slytherin fellows. He decided that Blaise would write sooner if he sent it now, so he chose to dispatch it immediately.

He went over to his owl's cage - 'cage' being a mild word for it. It was *huge*, and extremely well kept. "Come on, girl, got a little job for you." She flew over to him immediately, holding out her leg for the letter in his hands. He tied it to her leg. "This is for Blaise Zambini, okay?" He ruffled her feathers and handed her an owl treat - of the best kind of course, he *was* Draco Malfoy after all - and she took off.

"And bite hard him if he doesn't write back immediately."

BLAISE:

Blaise shook his ears out.

"Mum sure yells loudly..."

He'd made the horrid mistake of wearing a shirt with a red cuff to the dinner table. 'Bugger...she didn't even GO to Hogwarts...'

Blaise sighed as he locked the door behind him. 'That should keep her out--for a bit, anyways.'

As he made his way towards his bed, he saw something outside the window--

"Wow, Drcao's little messenger...where are my manners" he stated courtly as he opened wide the window and let the magnificent bird of prey in.

Blaise took the letter up and sat down on the puffy bed, unbuttoning the offensive red shirt process. He was about to read the letter, when he noticed an odd sort of behavior in Draco's bird...

'Is it just me, or is she glaring at me?..Figuring she's Draco's pet, it would make sense...'

Blaise ignored the bird and then set to reading the letter, reading snippets of it out loud to himself...

"Bediddy...Crabbe/Goyle...bashing....others--others? Hum, I hadn't really thought of a party..." Blaise always thought Draco was more the type to draw a lively crowd to himself, but from the tone of the letter, what with the "lack of interaction" bit and the "ministry of magic" uglier bit, Blaise reasoned not at the moment. As Blaise continued with the letter, he took up another fancy-shmancy quill in hand and held it loosely by the end in his mouth. His speech was slightly impended by the quill's presence as he continued to read-- "Bediddy...pwatith......fowey mithed....vah mun nan nony, 'Haco Wowfoi...eh. 'aver kwick 'o 'im, idn't it?"

Blaise turned to look at the messenger once again--and noted a serious progression from the earlier bad aura to a certainly menacing one now. "eh...I dink I' wah shusht 'enna writ 'im 'ack ven, eh? y'appy?" Blaise was slightly conforted by the decrease in the bird's maliscious stare.

*bite*

"Yaah!" Blaise ejaculate, dropping the quill from his mouth in the process. "Alright, bloody chick, alright! I've got the--" He bent down and picked up aforementioned quill--"message! Write! Yeay, write...'kay--"

Blaise took out some parchment lying (conviniently) on the table nearby and scratched out the following in green ink:

To Draco Malfoy:

Well that's a bloody lot more than what I've been doing, that's for certain...I don't even beleive I've touched a broom ever since I got back from school. It's been too much fun aggravating the Mum by putting it off. However, now that I think of it, mayhaps it would have been wise to be a slightly more congenial man [balise painfully remembered the chastizing he got for that bloody shirt earlier].

I hadn't actually thought of a group to get everything all together with...from the looks of it, you are at a stage where minimal company is suitable enough! I'll leave the rights of invitation to you then, as I am certainly not the most adept at picking party-goers.

I hope sincerely that all those nasty matters that are being gits at the moment (here I will not bother to re-write them, as you most likely know what I'm talking about and would rather not be reminded of them at the moment) will, to bluntly put it, try to air their own dirty laundry for once. The facilities of afore-unmentioned corporations should really be focusing on taking the log out of their own eyes before complaining of the motes in others.

It's good to hear from a friend over this dreary summer. School isn't that far away--I'd advise to think of a good method of self-defense against "Golden Boy" before he can lift a finger.

Signed

Blaise Zambini

PS.--I beleive you're already well aware, but your messenger bit me. Just thought you'd like to know.

"Well that seems decent enough--here you go, you little were-pidgeon" Blaise joked as he handed the rolled up parchment to the owl. She immeadiately flew out the window into the night...

"Mum's going to bite my head if she sees this window open", Blaise mused, casting the red shirt off into one of the corners of the massive room (ooc--good arm ^^)

After much (not) thought, Blaise decided to keep the window open for a bit more.

RON:

Ron woke up around..say, 2 in the afternoon (he wasn't particular about the time) to the mad hopping of Pigwidgeon on his bed. Groaning, he opened his eyes, and attempted to snag Pig to make him stop. However, the hyperactive creature with flighty tendancies was a little too chipper, and Ron a little too sleepy, for his hand and Pig to meet. The room was a little dark, and Ron rubbed his eyes to help him see better--and yet to no avail. The room was inherently dark; a fact which never seemed to change, even when Ron brought extra candles inside it. He supposed it might just be a mind trick due to his knowledge that it was a room belonging to the great pureblooded Black family--forever stooped in its old-stock worldview, and recently tainted with the blood of its elder son, Sirius. He looked about the room, still feeling slightly groggy. He hated this room, although none of the others seemed to be any better to him. While his waking thoughts were overshadowed with a slight sense of grief, Pigwidgeon took the opportunity to fly into Ron's face. This time, when Ron swiped at the fuzzbucket, he hit his mark.

"For Merlin's sake, Pig," he began, beginning to wake up, "can't you calm down for just a second?" Pig didn't seem to take notice, and wriggled happily under Ron's hand, flailing the papers he carried in his talons. Snatching them away, Ron put them close to his face so he could read them.

"hmm...This one's from Harry..." he commented, placing it at his side. "This," he said dissapprovingly, looking at both the excited owl and the item, "Is probably for mum, Pig. Did you think I would care for 'Ellen Greenfern's catalog of yarn'?" The next letter, which also happened to be the last, was from Hermione. Taking Harry's letter first, he smiled at first, and eventually began laughing. He wasn't sure why--from what it seemed, Harry's boring summer wasn't that much different from his own. Except that it sure was nice to finally get an owl from him after the last one he got, at the Burrow. His face turned a little sour--He loved his own home, it didn't seem fair that he had to stay in this sad excuse for one now. Not only that, but he'd have to write in his responses that, due to hightened precautions of the Order of the Phoenix, he wouldn't be able to accept owls anymore, as long as he was at Grimmauld Place. (ooc: grimm==grim, desolate, auld=old ...heh...bic:) He then began Hermione's letter, and, much to his chagrin, blushed at the line that said, "Yours Truly." embarrassed, he hoped neither Fred nor George would show up right now--they always seemed to pop in at the most inopportune times. Taking out his quill, he half-excitedly, half-disheartened, began his super-encoded letter;

Dear Hermione,

Well, its rather buggy here at Snuffles house, what with so many parties and all. Lots of people seem to come and go, and for that reason I suppose, there's a bit of a cold flitting about. Me mum claims its spread by owls, what with their feathers and all...so i'm afraid this'll be the last OWL for awhile--just till the cold passes. I do look forward to seeing you again soon though--

Ron crossed off that last line--it sounded a little mushy..and...well...That wasn't what he was going for--then again, maybe it was--he knew that he liked Hermione, but whether or not she returned the feelings was another matter entirely, what with her continued correspondence with that Viktor Krummy...

He sighed, hesitated, and continued his letter;

I really look forward to going back to school too, and seeing everyone again. Its kinda lonely here. And on the plus side, I don't think i have to take potions anymore!!

As Ron was about to bring his letter to a close, he hesitated again. Hermione had written "Your's Truly," as the closing line of her letter--did it mean anything? should he put "Your's truly" as well? Deciding against it, Ron finally finished his letter with:

Sincerely,

Ron.

Ps: You know I don't like crookshanks, but i hope maybe he and Zell can solve their differences

Feeling too tired and lazy to write a completely different letter to Harry, Ron basically copied the one he'd written for Hermione (with slight changes) and gave both letters to the nearly-frantic-with-excitement Pig. After Pig flew exuberantly out the window, Ron said, "good riddance," and crawled back under the covers.

BILL:

his fingers across his stomach, Bill favored Remus with an approving nod. "Well, that's good. I trust your judgment, in any case."

And he did, too. In the few years he'd known Remus at school, the other man had proven capable, responsible, and most of all, resilient.

Grinning at him suddenly, he quipped, "Unless you're just trying to make me feel better. In that case, you're about to see a grown man cry."

HERMIONE:

Dear Hermione,

Well, its rather buggy here at Snuffles house, what with so many parties and all. Lots of people seem to come and go, and for that reason I suppose, there's a bit of a cold flitting about. Me mum claims its spread by owls, what with their feathers and all...so i'm afraid this'll be the last OWL for awhile--just till the cold passes.

Hermione sighed, though Ron's letters were short; she did enjoy receiving them. 'At least I'll get to see everyone soon.' she thought.

I really look forward to going back to school too, and seeing everyone again. Its kinda lonely here. And on the plus side, I don't think i have to take potions anymore!!

Ron.

Ps: You know I don't like crookshanks, but i hope maybe he and Zell can solve their differences

'I thought we were past all that. It's not Crookshank's fault he could tell who Scabbers really was.' She folded up the letter and put it in her desk, reading it for a 5th time didn't change her thoughts.

She had been home for 3 days and couldn't wait to leave again. She had recieved an owl from Dumbledore saying she could go stay at Grimmauld place for the rest of summer if she wanted to, and she did. She enjoyed her holiday with her parents, but just felt more comfortable around the wizarding world. Her favorite holiday spot was when they visited the wizarding town, she had found so many new books and items she almost felt as if it were her first time being exposed to that world again.

She took out some paper and a pen and decided to write Harry a letter. She was sure he wasn't at Grimmauld place yet and could still write him.

Dear Harry,

How have you been? I just got back from my Holiday a few days ago, Australia was wonderful. You should see some of the things I got from there. And the books! I think I bought about 12 new ones. I've only had time to read 1 so far, the rest I will save for free time while at school.

I've been a bit worried about everything else going on though. How are you? Really? It's hard not being able to see you and talk, but - hopefully we'll be able to do that soon. Dumbledore sent me a letter a day ago saying I could go stay with everyone at

Hermione paused, she wasn't sure what to write there. Was it still Sirius's house? She hadnt been caught up on the details and decided it would be best not to mention it.

Dumbledore sent me a letter a day ago saying I could go stay with everyone. I hope you'll be joining us soon as well. I think I'll be going in about 5 days or so, my parents want to keep me around here for as long as they can. I understand, I miss them while I am gone as well. I hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

Hermione

p.s. The owl that delievered this is my new pet Zell. Isn't he great? Crookshanks and him dont get on so well, but - I'm sure they'll learn.

She folded and sealed the letter while walking to the winder. She opened it and Zell came flying in, "Over here Zell." she said and he came and landed on her arm. With her free hand she took an owl treat out from her pocket and gave it to him. While he was nibbling on that she tied the letter to his anke. "Take this to Harry, Zell." She patted him on the head and he flew out the window.

'Only 5 more days...' she thought as she sat down to read another chapter from her texts.

DRACO:

Draco came walking up the stairs to his room - or rather, he stalked. Again. His mother was *again* sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for news. When he had pointed out that their fireplace might be tapped - those bloody Aurors really got in evrywhere - she had replied that they were extremely well protected, that they would only be contacted if the other side was sure of not being overheard, that he should trust Voldemort, and to keep his nose out of business that didn't concern him.

Didn't concern him indeed. Draco snorted. Or was his mother too scared of facing Voldemort's wrath if he contacted them at some ungodly hour and they weren't there to receive the honors? Not that it would be him doing the dirty job of course - that would be left to some lower ranking death eater most probably.

He entered his room and stared moodily at the mirror (who told him to cheer up and not spoil his pretty face by sulking). It took him some time to realise his owl was back, and that she carried a letter with her. Some of his bad mood evaporating, he went over to her and stroked her while removing the letter tied to her leg. "Good girl, Aykla. Let's see what he said now."

He went through the letter, reading it idly twice through. He smiled at the postscript and stroked Aykla again. "So you did bite him...good girl..."

He sat down and started composing his next letter.

Blaise,

What's your mother like? It seems like you anger her a lot. I prefer to use our new house elf and implicate *him* instead - it's more fun and the consequences are actually enjoyable.

When shall we meet to get the school supplies? I don't intend to ask anyone else - they'll probably be around anyway. We can pick up anyone interesting we see and avoid the rest. I suggest two days before school starts. Plenty of time to get the stuff.

As for Golden Boy, I was thinking of something along the lines of the Unforgivables. Of course, untraceable unforgivables - which means that it'll probably have to wait a bit. After all, if he catches even a cold I'm sure *someone* will suspect me, let alone his 'untimely' death. But since that comes with being in Slytherin, I'm not complaining.

Excuse the conduct of my owl. She's of the opinion that as soon one receives my letter, a reply is expected immediately.

Draco Malfoy

Draco read the letter through again and attached it to Aykla's leg again. "There you go, my beauty," he murmured. "Don't tire yourself out."

REMUS:

It will be fine." Remus smiled. "I found that in my last year of teaching, the students really respond to interesting lessons." Remus leaned back. "I for one, am quite looking forward to it."

HERMIONE:

Hermione woke up and went to the window, Zell had been tapping on it. "Good morning Zell." She said as she let him in the room. She opened her top drawer in her desk and pulled out a couple owl treats. It wasn't Zell's fault she hadn't given him any mail to deliver recently, so she gave him the treats. She hadn't heard from anyone in a few days, not that she was expecting to. Ron had told her he wouldn't be able to send any more owls, and Harry... well, he had been a bit distant since his God Father was killed, 'Can't blame him for that.' She thought to herself.

She laid back down on her bed and stared at the ceiling a bit. A few of her old school friends had contacted her, but she hadn't gotten back to any of them. She wasn't able to tell them anything about her new school, so it wasn't any fun for her. They would go on and on about their new crushes, and what their school year was like; and Hermione wasn't able to tell them anything about what really happened to her. Just as her thoughts were wandering again her mother yelled for her to come down stairs. "Coming mother!" She yelled back while she put on some house slippers.

She ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to eat.

BLAISE:

Blaise decided that day that for breakfast, he'd walk down the stairs with bunny slippers. See what mum thought of that.

As he reached the breakfast table, he was surprised to see that his mum wasn't present at the moment.

"Well, blighter, that's odd...wonder where she went off to--oo?"

A rap-tap-tapping on the window--a familiar bird

"Ah, Draco Malfoy has seen fit to write me again!" Blaise cheerfully thought aloud, rising from his seat, bunny slippers making a shff-shff sound as they tread the carpet towards the window...

"Alright, there, lass--come on in" Blaise cooed as he opened the window for the magnificent owl. She flew past him onto the table, eyeing him with a cold glare. Blaise stood at the window for a short while, looking back at the bird.

He shrugged

shff-shff-shff he went, back the the breakfast table. He plopped back down and took the letter from She-Who-Bites-Fingers, and read it over, humming a tune he'd heard on that thing...that Muggle device--radio? yeah, that thing he'd smuggled into his room that his parents were very much unaware of:

"Galileo figaroo...." (ooc--anyone else love Bohemian Rhapsody from Queen? hehe)

He frowned at the mother part. and then his brow furrowed in perplexion at the dates for the diagon alley trip.

"Well Bugger" Blaise spouted, running his free hand through his hair and plopping his bunny-slippered feet onto the very large and spacey overly ornate table. He idly drew another fancy quill from his pocket, this one filched from his mother's expansive library that fortunately happened to write in green.

*lick*

*scribble scribble....*

To Draco Malfoy:

To be brutally honest, I hadn't exactly formulated a plan for the Diagon Alley trip--I suppose we could go whenver you feel it wise to leave the confines of the house. As for me, I'm doing absolutely nothing important, so anytime you can, I'd be willing to accomodate.

I do beleive that it is my mum who takes her anger out on me, rather than me taking any anger of mine out on her--it'd be a waste of my anger, as she'd blow it away with her own torrentous wave of billlowing fury. I haven't exactly any clue as to why she's so angry with everything nowadays---I suspect that it has to do with your unfortunate situation, to some extent, as she rather admired your father as a perfect example of pureblooded wizardry--but even then there's a little too much excess...

I'm glad to hear that all unfortunate dreariness have not entirely worn you out enough to think up of something for Golden Gryffindork. I do believe that you'd be safe from any suspicion anyhow, seeing as the general public beleives that any harm done to their precious living gold clump is, of course, done by He-who-must-not-be-named, what with his relatively recent arising...

And I thank your lovely owl o-so-much. My mum rather went ballistic when she saw it, and now thinks I'm some sort of nut-case with a fascination for my own blood. Rather entertaining, actually.

Signed

Blaise Zambini.

Instantly after he had dotted the last "i", Blaise practically shoved the parchment to the bird. she didn't seem to be too offended at his rush, and gracefully accepted the parchment. She then flew out through the still open window.

Blaise sat, feet still on the table, looking out the open window

*door creaking*

"Blaise, I was just--OH MY GOOD WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS ON YOUR FEET?!?"

'Oh bugger'

ASENKA AND SEVERUS SNAPE:

Severus looked up sharply as the sounds of something large and heavy bouncing down the stairs echoed up to his small study. "Asenka?"

"No help!" his sister yelled back from the first floor. "None!"

"Who's offering?" Severus shot back, leaving the papers on his desk and going to the second floor rail to look down.

She'd been trying to get up the stairs again, and met with the same miserable results as always. The wheels were still spinning, and one of her legs was caught at an odd angle. Severus sighed as he went down the stairs, carefully righting Asenka's leg before pulling the wheelchair upright.

Askena thanked him by running over his toes. "I said no help." she snapped, flipping her salt and pepper braid over her shoulder. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can, Asenka." Severus assured her as he started to push her chair into the den.

"Don't patronize me, Severus."

"Would I ever do that, my dear sister?" he parked her next to the fireplace.

"Yes." she hissed.

"Tch. You've got a bit of a goose egg." Severus pointed out, brushing some of her hair back. "Haven't you been listening to your healer at all?"

"What does he know?" Asenka snorted.

HARRY:

Harry saw the owl arrive and he quickly took the letter from the envelope. Opening the letter he began to read. Smiling, he finished then picked up a quill.

Dear Hermione

Just got your letter, thanks. Things are quiet here. I can't wait to get out of here. Glad you had a great holiday though. But Zell was very efficent. Thats nice.

I should get a letter from Professor Dumbledore soon telling me where I go. But, yes, I'll see you soon. Better send this now. Look forward to seeing your new books and items.

Harry.

Turning, harry called to Hedwig who flew over and waited for him to tie it to her leg. "This is for Hermione." he spoke. Watching as Hedwig flew out the window, Harry turned and sat back at the desk and pulled a book towards him.

ASENKA AND SEVERUS:

"What do you mean, we're out?"

"Just what it sounds like, oh snarky one. We're out. The pantry is bare, the supplies are used up, and the good plates are all but destroyed. And when's the last time you bought new robes. Look! Look at that hole! That's it, we're going shopping!"

"Have fun."

"Oooh no you don't, Severus! You're coming with me!"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

***********************

Severus let out a tiny groan as he pushed his sister's chair down Diagon Ally. "How do I let you talk me into these things?"

"Because you love me and will do whatever I ask?" Asenka said sweetly.

HERMIONE:

Hermione was laying in her bed, waiting for sleep to overcome her when she heard a light tap at her window. Hermione had been used to that sound now, the first couple times Zell had done it she had gotten a bit frightened, this time she just went to the window and opened it up. Hedwig flew in and landed on her desk. "Hullo Hedwig." She said while smiling. She took an owl treat out from her desk and fed it to her while untying the letter. "You can stay here tonight Hedwig and rest up a bit if you like." Hedwig cooed a bit, but flew off the table and out the window. "Guess she wants to get back to Harry then."

She brought the letter with her to bed opened it up while she crawled back under the covers. She read:

"Dear Hermione

Just got your letter, thanks. Things are quiet here. I can't wait to get out of here. Glad you had a great holiday though. But Zell was very efficent. Thats nice.

I should get a letter from Professor Dumbledore soon telling me where I go. But, yes, I'll see you soon. Better send this now. Look forward to seeing your new books and items.

Harry."

She was pleased to have recieved a letter from Harry, but he seemed a little distant, a little closed off; which is what she was expecting concidering what he had just been through. She closed her eys, 'Dont do it Hermione, you have to be strong.' She thought while trying to hold back tears. Anytime she thought about the events from last year she couldn't help but start to cry. She knew she had to be strong though, if not for herself; for Harry. 'Thats it, I've had enough.' She stood up from her bed and walked over to her school trunk. "I'm not just going to sit around like this..." she mumbled to herself.

She dug around her trunk until she finaly found what she was looking for. "Ah, there." She took out the book and brought it back to her bed. She looked at the cover and re-read the title a few times, "Behind The Veil" she wasn't sure she wanted to find out, but she had to. She opened the book and turned to the first page.

~~~~~

Hermione had been looking through the book store almost all day, though she wasn't sure what she was looking for. Being in this new wizarding town she had found many new things of interest to her. There were also many book's by authors unknown - which seemed to particulary intrigue her. She walked around a corner in the book store to see a section that was roped off; behind it seemed to hold book's of great value, and very old ones. She could only assume why that section was roped off. She looked around a bit to make sure no one was looking, 'here goes then' she though to herself while she tried to go under the rope. She was almost under when a force thew her back and an alarm started to sound, "Oh bugger." she said and tried to get to her feet.

"Now deary, what do you think you're doing?" Asked an old whitch who had shown up due to the sound of the alarm.

"Well, I was... I wanted to see those books, in there." She replied bluntly.

"Those books arent for sale, s'why the sectioned roped off dear."

"I just thought there might..." she was cut off.

"be something of interest?" the old which interrupted. "I'm sure there are, theres a great deal of interesting things in those books." The which got closer and took hold of one of Hermione hands. "Well, I see no harm in letting you look a bit. But, remember, those books arent for sale." She walked over the the rope and untied it, "You're safe to go in now." She guided Hermione in, "I think you might find a few books that interest you over in that corner," she pointed to a corner on the right, containing one book shelf with some very tattered books on the shelfs, "there." She then left the room.

Hermione was surprised the lady had let her into the section, but pleased. 'There must be a great deal of books in here I've never heard of.' She thought to herself. She scanned some of the titles but nothing seemed to grab her, then she decided to walk over to the corner the which had mentioned. Her eye immidiately was caught by a book with the title, "Behind the Veil." There was no author, and no description so she picked it up and opened it to the first page. A small paragraph was written there:

"For those who wish to know the unknown. For those willing to trace the line between Life and Death. Here in this book, the faint voices speak. If you are faint of heart, or scared to know the truth about death stop now and forget you ever saw this book; for inside lies the truth which the voices from behind the veil speak."

Hermione dropped the book. 'The veil... this couldn't be the veil inside the department of mysteries...' She picked up the book and tried to find who it was written by but she could find nothing. 'how did that lady know what I wanted... but they arent for sale. How can I read this all now, it's too long...' She made up her mind, and put the book into a bag with purchases she made from another shop. She left the room and the rope closed behind her on its own.

She looked around for the old witch, but when she couldnt find her she left.

VOLDEMORT:

His Most Exaulted Lord sank further into the depths of his bath. He smelled in the air, pungent with fumes of the dungeon moss that clung to the dank walls. Exhaling calmly, he flicked his unblinking eyes across the scenery.

His castle--what a novelty! This stronghold that he had long ago fahsioned himself, as a place to get away from the nuisances of the ignorant and filthy world--a place to indulge himself in the darkest of magical talents--was his after such a long time of bodily inprisonment. The Dark Lord had never stopped reveling in the thought. It was just another assurance of his power.

/My power.../

Voldermort's face twitched with noticeable disdain.

/Yes. That little whelp has a share of what is rightfully mine. That Potter.../

Voldermort's face contorted, further making his mien the epitome of cruelty personified. He still remembered the unfortunate circumstance of his battle with Potter from the Triwizard event.

/I cross one barrier, and another is placed before me! How dare Potter have my brother wand!/

Voldermort seethed with pure....tainted hatred. He knew exactly why he had lost that battle--Potter had become all too familiar with feeding off of the power that had been given to him from birth.

And it wasn't getting any better.

His last battle with Potter had only revealed another possible weakness that Potter had access to.

/It was fortunate that I was able to warp his mind that time...to bring him to me/ Voldermort refelcted. /But the boy leanrs mastery over this window.../ Would Harry Potter someday be able to use this window of opportunity against him?

Voldermort hissed at the idea. It must not come to pass.

Feeling that his bath had indeed become spoiled by having to dwell on his own faults rather than his victories, Voldermort concluded 'twas time for his bath to end. He stood up, dripping, from the end of his large pool-sized bath.

Immeadieately the death eater who had been standing outside, waiting for his beloved lord, rushed in with robe and towel for to adorn the Lord of Darkness. Voldermort hissed as the fumbling death eater messily got the robes on, making the death eater crouched down on the ground in fear.

"Insolent cur" he spat, the words slithering out like poisonous snakes, "You will do well to be more careful!!"

The death eater shivered, meanwhile attempting to hide it-but nothing could be hidden.

"Y-yes, your Lordship!" he barely squeaked out in shaking voice.

Voldermort's face twisted with malice. "Get out of my sight, unless you have other business!!"

"Y-yes sir!" the death eater shakily exclaimed, hurriedly getting himself off the floor and towards the door, away from his Lord's wrath--

"Stop."

The death eater stopped with hand on the handle.

Voldermort eyed the death eater with much reproof, knowing very well that at least Wormtail knew how to properly get him his robes on.

"Send for Bellatrix Lestrange--tell her I instruct her to meet with me at the dining hall" were his last words to the insubordinate minion.

"Y-y-yes sir" He squeaked out, then bolted, trying to close the door with discretion but failing miserably.

Voldermort kept his eyes on the door that the death eater had exited out of. "Yet another weakness for that Potter to exploit" he cursed as he finished the job that the death eater had left undone in his hastiness to leave.

BELLATRIX:

The moody, somewhat crazed cousin to the late Sirius Black had just gotten back from her spying expedition. She had intended to follow the teachers when they left the pub and approach them with a little unforgivable curse in a dark alley, but she was most dismayed when they merely disapparated at the end of their conversation. She was still cursing herself for forgetting that possibility. It would not have been so difficult to Avada Kedavra them right there in the pub. No one would have seen her in the cloak and she could have promptly disapparated. But she always had a taste for the dramatic and often did not see the more obvious, wiser, simpler, alternatives. She decided that she wouldn't mention it to Voldemort, and hope that he wouldn't ask.

As she was brushing her hair after her shower, the squeaky new death eater recruit timidly poked his head in the open door and relayed his message. Bellatrix looked at him until he flinched and ran away. He actually met her gaze a little longer than she expected him to. He irritated her, but maybe he really did have a tiny bit of potential. She tugged on her boots and grabbed her cape as she walked out the door, kicking it shut behind her. After tying on her cloak as she walked down the wide hallways to the dining hall, she enjoyed the billowing effect it had while she strode.

She found the dining hall to be empty. Voldemort was not yet there. She sat down in a nearby chair to wait. The chairs were high backed and required good posture to sit in comfortably, but Bellatrix didn't mind, pulling out a blood lollipop to suck on while she waited. They were meant for vampire children, but Bellatrix always had a strange liking for the bitter taste. Her sister Andromeda had always found it absolutely appalling, and Narcissa had thought it funny, but refused to ever try one herself.

BLAISE:

Blaise stood in front of the shoppe, looking around for any signs of his shopping partner..

/Shopping partner--that sounds like some sort of cliche/ Blaise sardonically thought to himself, eyes scaling over the area of the shopping.

It didn't seem as though Draco was there yet--

/Bugger. It's cold out here...Why does he always have to insist on being fashionably late?/

Blaise rubbed his hands together, and looked back towards the direction he had looked previously. Nope, no Draco...

/...And I'm going to be going through that 1-itemed checklist...how many times?/

Blaise's thoughts were dripping with a surprising amount of sarcasm.

"well then, if Draco insists on being the prat we all know and love--" Blaise concluded to himself, "Might as well find something pleasant to do with the waiting time...what to do, what to do...eh..."

Blaise shuffled through his right pocket with both arms, a noticeable expression of confusion and frustration displayed on his youthful features. That all disapparated when Blaise felt his hand come in contact with a certain object in his pocket, and he eagerly drew out--

yet another one of his father's fancy quills. Quite expensive one at that, too--nearly 20 galleons for the pen. Blaise would never understand why his father ever wasted so much money on pens that he himself were eventually going to break without papa's permission anyways--he might as well blow his money on cheap pens worthy of Blaise's mistreatment.

"Du-da-da-dum, what disastruous feat" he smugly started with a narrative tone, " will our hero, Be-bee-boo-shnoozle the pen of ridicululosity do for our fantastically warped senses of perception today?" Blaise held the 9 inch, green and silver striped, complete with pixie dust decor and moxie wings set at the top, at full arms-length in front of him.

His grin spread.

"The world will simply...have to wait and--oo, oopsie there--see! ha-Ha!"

Blaise aloofly "ya-hoo!ed" as he balanced yon fair over-decked feather on his nose.

What did it matter that plenty of other people were in the street at the moment? Blaise was having a blast.

"Let's see then--"Blaise quickly turned his head towards the right, pen did not fall, "No Draco that way..." he swung his head to the left, still maintaining the pen's precarious...or, maybe not so precarious balance, on his nose.

"Nope, not that way--excuse me?"

A wizard of about forty-nine, from the looks of it a prosperous and pretentious jerk like himself, had just dropped a few knuts at Blaise's feet.

Blaise's eyes moved down to the money, not bending his head down.

"Well, I must say, THAT's never happened before."

DRACO:

Draco made his way to Ollivander's. Fashionably late was fashionably late but things always tended to get out of hand when his mother decided to give him a last minute lecture before he left. As if he didn't know by now to be careful what he said in front of others and all the rot she insisted on going through every single time.

He rounded a corner and froze. Blaise was balancing a ridiculously overdecorated quill pen on his nose. Not only *that*, but some money was sprinkled at his feet, and a few kids were standing watching, egging him on, while most adults passed on with a comment, smiling at the boy.

For a moment, Draco debated with himself whether or not to go strangle his Slytherin friend for making such a ridiculous spectacle of himself. Balancing a quill on his nose and getting money - like some good for nothing street beggar?

He decided on not strangling Blaise for the simple reason that to do it, he'd have to go up to him and thus show people that he knew him - and he wasn't overly fond of making a fool of himself willingly like that. Hexing him from this distance would have made Draco a very satisfied shopper, but if he did so, he'd probably end up in Azkaban on being a potential death eater or something just for teaching Blaise a lesson.

So instead of doing any of those things, Draco turned smartly round and set off again. He could do his shopping by himself, if Blaise hadn't seen him - and he hoped he hadn't. Street entertainer indeed.

BLAISE:

Blaise was getting rather annoyed. He had been standing there for several minutes--just plain-ol standing!! and a crowd had began to gather.

'and it's not like I need these extra knuts...goodness--'

"OH!"

Blaise saw Draco--a very much scowling Draco--out of the corner of his eye.

'...Ah yes...'

Blaise then quickly addressed all the people who were standing nearby. He bent down, picked up all the knuts, put them in his pocket, and then said:

"You thought I was amazing, you should take a peek at the wands inside. Thank you."

And with that, Blaise quickly swiped the pen off of his nose, bowed to the people, then made his way through the crowd towards Draco, trying not to listen to the applause.

" 'lo, Draco" Blaise called out, then tapped the boy on his shoulder. "You wouldn't beleive how easy some people are with their money..."

DRACO:

Draco wasn't sure whether to try strangling him now or wait until they were out of the public eye. He settled for the patented cold Malfoy glare. "Well, last I heard, people doing ridiculous things in a street are generally entertainers looking for a knut or two to have breakfast." He crossed his arms. "Blaise, what by Salazar's wand were you trying to do??"

He'd always thought Blaise was one of the most eccentric Slytherins in his year - although mind you, they all had something or other strange - but he hadn't expected *this*. At school his antics were funny, in public they were embarassing.

"Let's get one thing straight, shall we?" he continued, still glaring. "Let's try to get through this thing without drawing any more amusing glances and Knuts, shall we?" He hadn't come with Blaise to feel worse than when he had Crabbe and Goyle. Now if only Blaise behaved himself the morning was still not lost...

BLAISE:

Blaise merely waved Draco's biting marks away with his hand, so thick with bitterness that they had almost taken a solid form (ooc--hehehe)

"As you say, Malfoy. But I must say, I sure wasn't trying to put myself up as a street performer, goodness no. To be frank, waiting for you wasn't exactly the most pleasant experience, if you know what I mean" Blaise commented, smiling in a beguiling manner. "The boredom was disgusting. So I decided to take this ridiculous quill my father bought for 20 galleons that I managed to grab hold of from his office, and see how I could have the most fun wasting that 20 galleons. What a prick, that father.."

Blaise held out the pen some small distance from him, where Draco could see it in full sight.

"Honestly, would YOU ever waste such money on this? It's tasteless and...more tasteless, and pointless. The tip takes in almost no bloody ink in at all."

He stuffed the quill back into pocket, muttering "and the quill lives for another day..."

He looked onward ahead, getting the very odd feeling that Draco was not one for eye-to-eye contact--

"So what stores should we hit first? Let's try to avoid Olivanders for now.."

DRACO:

Draco turned down his coldness a few notches, remaining only slightly colder than his normal state. "*Twenty* galleons? Can you tell me how you have managed to survive so far? I'd have thought your parents would have killed you by now if you did that often." Well, his probably would have. Lucius Malfoy wasn't a very lenient father. Some things were unacceptable.

He looked around at the shops. "Well, I don't need any money, so unless you need to get some, we can skip Gringott's. Shall we get the books first, or leave those for last? I need at least some new robes, a new cauldron and a broom repair kit."

BLAISE:

Blaise was only too happy to stuff all that behind them and move on to the shopping experience.

"Right-o then...Let's tour the broomstores first--I heard there's a new model out! Let's see, what was it called..."

Blaise snapped his fingers for a bit, bottom lip bit as if trying to incite his brain to remember.

"What was it *snap snap*..*snap*!! OH! Right, it's a completely new brand called the Shooting Star, supposedly supposed to outdate the Firebolt!"

Blaise added in that last bit, pretty certain THAT would grab Draco's attention. Draco had been losing even more tragically to Potter ever since he'd gotten that broomstick, and Blaise was sure as anything willing to bet on Draco wanting an advantage.

DRACO:

Draco nodded determinedly. "I've heard about it. I might order it but..." he scowled, "mum doesn't want to get it for me." Of course, since Lucius was in Azkaban, it was understandable, but at the same time, if they had to go on, then they might as well go on as before. He couldn't just stop being a Malfoy because his father was in prison.

"I think I'll see it today and if nothing else, order it so that it'll arrive at school sometime," he continued. "And if I'm lucky, Potter will have a heart attack when he sees it and *dies* once and for all," he said. The last bit was said in a low voice, so that if there were any Potter lovers around they wouldn't hear him. All they needed was the slightest shadow of a reason to throw him in with his father, Draco thought moodily.

BLAISE:

Blaise looked alongside at Draco without making eye-contact.

/Since when has a boy like Draco Malfoy cared about what his mother does or does not want him to get? His family situation must be more warped at the moment than I thought...hum.../

Blaise then turned his head forward--

"Ah! There we go, there's the store! Wow..."

Blaise walked up to the window, grazing the glass with the fingers of his right hand.

"Would you look at that, they made a window display of it, too..."

The broom was an astounding 5' 5" long, the wood being ebony--a rarity for any broom, as ebony was a heavy wood...But by the looks of it, there were some pretty fancy charms and spells woven into this fancy piece. The wood was not merely just a stick of polished wood, as other brooms were--this broom had a braided design. The poetry of black wooded braid, nearly glistening in the midday-sun, was complete with a quatrain (sonnet terminology) of the mahogany broom bristles being interwoven near the end, and eventually spreading out to make the end.

Blaise whisteled.

"It's even better up close...wow..."

HERMIONE:

Hermione had been exhausted the past few days, she would stay up late at night's reading - and have to wake up early to spend time with her parents before she left for Grimmauld place. She hadn't recieved an owl from anyone about when she would be leaving, so she just counted the days.

It had been about a week since she had first started reading the book, "Behind the Veil" and she was almost no where closer to understanding what had happened to Sirius. No matter how much she kept reading, it seemed as though she had made no progress in the book. She had discovered there was a charm on it, it was much longer then it appeared; for as she continued to read, the front pages would dissapeer and the end pages would continue. She wondered when this book would end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was just about to settle down in her bed and start reading when she heard some tapping on her window. Zell was sleeping in his cage, so she was sure it would be news about when she was going to leave for Grimmauld place. She opened the window and an unrecognizable brown owl flew in, dropped a letter and flew immediately back out. She opened the letter in a rush, and was satisfied with the results; She was to meet Harry, Ron and the Weasleys at Diagon alley in 2 days for their shopping, then she would leave with them to Grimmauld place. She decided against reading for the night, and instead concentrated on the last few days she would have with her parents this summer.

DRACO:

Draco was right behind the other boy and studied every last inch of the broom - not displaying awe because that wasn't a Malfoy emotion. It was beautiful, it was *perfect*...and it was his to buy.

"Blaise, I'm going to go have a closer look at it...coming?" Draco asked, or rather, stated. He pushed the door open and entered. The wizard inside recognized him since he was a potential buyer and greeted him in a very heartfelt manner.

"He's going to get us one for closer inspection," Draco announced as the wizard disappeared into the back of his large shop. There were all kinds of brooms on display, and there was even a photo showing a wizard on a Shooting Star, doing stunts and fancy moves on it with lightning speed. Oh yes, he *had* to get this broom.

"Are you getting one too, Blaise?"

ASENKA AND SEVERUS SNAPE:

Asenka stared whistfully at the broom as her brother rolled her past, a package of foul smelling potions ingrediants on her lap. "Can we go in?" she said, looking up at Severus. "Just for a few minutes? I just want to have a look...."

Severus looked as though he were going to say no for several moments before he turned the chair and wheeled her inside. The first people he saw were Blaise Zambini (I probably misspelled that...) and Draco Malfoy.

BLAISE:

Blaise shrugged as Draco walked into the store, and quickly followed him in. /Doesn't seem as if his whole family issues have affected that "take-charge" attitude of his/ he mused. /Seems only natural/

"He's going to get one from the back to get a better look" (ooc--that be paraphrasing. ^^)

Blaise's eyes opened wide increduslously.

"Really? Whoah, that's..that's brilliant..."

/Zowie!/

Blaise's cheeks flushed with enthusiasm--hey, he was about to see a perfectly wonderful broom, what was there not to be excited about?

He chanced a look to the side as he heard the door swing open--

"Ah! Professor Snape!!" Blaise recepted the teacher with much enthusiasm as he walked over--

"How--eh? Oh, who's this charming lady you've brought with you, Severus?" Blaise inquired, an expression of interest spread throughout his features.

DRACO:

Blaise's enthusiasm reflected his, but Draco was more used to hiding anything but smirks. He turned to the door, eyes opening slightly in surprise at seeing his head of house there. "Good day, Professor Snape," he said smoothly, trying not to wince at the 'Severus' part. What was Blaise thinking of? Sure, he was their head of house and they were on good terms, but calling a professor by his first name was never done - and Professor Snape wasn't exactly the most easy going teacher ever. He looked at Asenka as well, hiding his curiosity. He did think this was a rather kind act of his professor to be wheeling about an invalid. It wasn't in character.

ASENKA & SEVERUS:

Severus regarded Blaise cooly, then glanced at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zambini, this is my sister, Asenka."

Asenka, in turn smiled at the two boys warmly. "Hullo." Smirking, she looked up at her brother and pointed to Blaise. "He's sweet. Can I keep him?"

Severus gave his sister one of his patented Glares of Death (usually resevered for his students, but today he was more than willing to make an exception). "We do have errands, sister, and we should not dally here." He tried to pull the chair back out of the store, only to find that Asenka had locked the wheels.

"We came in here to look at the brooms, and that is what we are going to do. It's not like either of us have anything better to do... and besides, I want to meet your students."

BELLATRIX:

Bellatrix chewed up the last bits of her lollipop. She twirled the stick in her fingers as she pulled out her wand, making it vanish in mid-spin. Voldemort had not yet entered the hall. Perhaps that twitchy death eater had relayed an inaccurate message to her. /God, I hope not,/ she thought. /He would be dreadfully upset if I didn't come where He wanted me. He would probably believe me if I told Him I had recieved a faulted message. But then again, he probably wants me to wait and suffer this unsureness. I'd better stay here and wait./

Bellatrix pushed the chair back so she could put her feet up on the table. After doing so however, she was struck with confusion as to why anyone ever really did this. It was not really very comfortable. Bellatrix had assumed it would be, considering so many people do, but it really wasn't. Perhaps it was only to provide the illusion of being comfortable. She still thought it was stupid, and sighed as she brought her feet down.

DRACO:

Draco nodded at the woman, thinking that it was no wonder Blaise had managed to survive for so long, if all that fooling around was attractive to women.

He turned around as the wizard in charge of the shop came back, a gleaming, brand new, perfect Shooting Star in his hands. Draco couldn't help feeling awed as the wizard placed it on his desk and he reached out a hand to run it down it's smooth beautiful handle. This was *gorgeous*. How could he not buy it? "How much is it again?" he asked, trying not to sound too strangled.

ASENKA:

Asenka pulled away from her brother and wheeled up next to Draco, staring at the broom with avid facination. "Oh, this is a fine thing..." she whispered. "You're a lucky one to be able to get this..."

BLAISE:

Severus regarded Blaise cooly, then glanced at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zambini, this is my sister, Asenka."

Asenka, in turn smiled at the two boys warmly. "Hullo." Smirking, she looked up at her brother and pointed to Blaise. "He's sweet. Can I keep him?"

Blaise smiled a warm and loose smile. "Thanks for your affections, m'lady" he politely added, and looked up to Snape.

Severus gave his sister one of his patented Glares of Death (usually resevered for his students, but today he was more than willing to make an exception). "We do have errands, sister, and we should not dally here." He tried to pull the chair back out of the store, only to find that Asenka had locked the wheels.

"We came in here to look at the brooms, and that is what we are going to do. It's not like either of us have anything better to do... and besides, I want to meet your students."

Blaise reisisted the urge to cock his head.

/She's great!/ he thought to himself. /Very spunky, for a girl in a wheelchair/ he thought.

Draco nodded at the woman, thinking that it was no wonder Blaise had managed to survive for so long, if all that fooling around was attractive to women.

He turned around as the wizard in charge of the shop came back, a gleaming, brand new, perfect Shooting Star in his hands. Draco couldn't help feeling awed as the wizard placed it on his desk and he reached out a hand to run it down it's smooth beautiful handle. This was *gorgeous*. How could he not buy it? "How much is it again?" he asked, trying not to sound too strangled.

Blaise looked over to where Draco was admiring his broom, and looked at him. hard.

/was that...a Malfoy-esque display of appreciation? His family situation is affecting him more than I thought./

Asenka pulled away from her brother and wheeled up next to Draco, staring at the broom with avid facination. "Oh, this is a fine thing..." she whispered. "You're a lucky one to be able to get this..."

Blaise happily trotted over and joined in--

"Yup, that he is--and all of us hope that this luck will add a boost to his deft handle of a broom, for Quidditch--Isn't that right, Malfoy?" he asked, turning to face Draco, expression free with enthusiasm.

Hey. when one is in close proximity of such a dazzling broom, one cannot help but feel a little "uplifted".

VOLDEMORT:

A voice then echoed in the hall, signaling his presence--

"Bellatrix...."

He entered, fully adorned in his robes of green velvet, with small inter-twining ropes of silver-and-black snake insignias trailed down in rivulets in the front. His red eyes narrowed in pleasure to see her alacrity(ooc--SAT word, meaning promptness, readiness in response)

He nearly glided over, as he approached the table. Then...

"sssaaaaaashhheeehaaaassaaaaaahhhh" (good day, Bellatrix)

Nagisa swiveled up from out of Voldemort's robe, spiraling around his own snake-like arm, and her head strethced out to breach the space between Lord and servant.

Voldermort then peered down at Bellatrix, sitting calmly in chair;

"Ssssaaaaseeehaaaaaaasshaashaaaaaasaaaaa....." (Your report, Bellatrix?)

DRACO:

Draco was about to glare at Blaise for even hinting that his flying could use some improvement, but he couldn't help softening it into just a glance - anyone could say stupid stuff when they were faced with such a broom.

He took a deep breath and fixed a cold glare on the wizard in charge of the shop. Now to see if he could manage to lower the price a bit. Just because the Malfoys were practically made of money didn't mean they bought everything happily without ever looking back.

ASENKA:

"Quidditch, eh? What postion do you play? I used to be the Ravenclaw seeker, when I was in school." Asenka sighed, her hand lightly brushing some of the charms. "Beautiful work.... is that a Silversmith charm? I didn't think they made brooms... must be branching out."

BLAISE:

Blaise scrunched up his eyebrows.

"Silversmith?Really! If that's so, no wonder why the broom's so differnt."

Blaise rubbed his chin with wonder. Asenka seemed to know a bit about these kinds of things...

Would she divulge under charismatic probing?

....it was worth a shot, anyways. Blaise reasoned he'd get a kick out of it anyways, even if he didn't find anything out.

"Say, what was your major at Hogwarts, anyways? You seem to be knowledgable about charms to recognize them, anyways"he offhandedly remarked.

ASENKA:

"I majored in Defense Against the Dark Arts when I was in school... one of the girls in my year was a Silversmith... had the personality of a brick, but she knew her charms." Asenka ran her finger around one of the charms. "Beautiful... the Silversmiths have always been truely gifted at melding form with function. You couldn't ask for finer work."

BLAISE:

Blaise whistled appreciatively, looking on the broom with an appraising glance.

He turned to Asenka--

"It's amazing, the things a person can pick up from one's peers, mm? But yes--Silversmiths are excellent at charmwork..."

Blaise then cocked his head in slight epiphony mode--

"But why would they be expanding now, all of a sudden?" he wondered aloud. "Did they gain business concessions?"

ASENKA:

"If the current Silversmith Patriarch is anything like Rhiannon was, it's probably good old greed that lead to the branching out." Asenka said after a moment's thought. "Rhiannon used to sell little charms to the other students for a hefty price."

BLAISE:

Blaise grinned.

"Really? She reminds me of my mum, who is complete opposite of my dad" Blaise offhandedly commented, nodding his head comprehensively.

"Greed...I guess that makes sense--but really, if these people just want money, they could stand out by street corners and balance quills on their nose--they'll make quite an immeasureable profit at that" grinned Blaise, glowing in a way that pinned him guilty of the same, "And it's a lot more fun way of getting knuts, you know!"

DRACO:

Draco and the wizard had finally agreed on a price, and finally the young Malfoy was again paying attention to what the pair were talking about. "And a lot more demeaning," he cut into the discussion, as the shop wizard placed his hands on the broom and excused himself but were they going to buy one or could he put it back now?

RON:

Ron duly stared at his ceiling. He couldn't help it. He was excited. Hermione and Harry were supposed to arrive today, and somehow, his mother had gone WITHOUT HIM to go pick them up. When he asked Fred and George about it, they'd said,

"oh, well, mum thought you looked as charming as a bumblebee when you were sleeping, so she didn't want to wake you up."

"Yup, she was afraid she was going to get stung." (loud laughter)

"You can't be serious!! argg...." Ron had grumbled.

And thus Ron was stuck here looking duly at his ceiling. He hadn't seen the two of them for so long. He hadn't been able to keep in correspondence with either of them, due to security precautions. The lack of contact, with the mixture of acknowledgement of bad events in the previous year, made Ron wonder if Harry was still alive. Who could tell? From what he'd heard, that strange blood thing that he'd never understood had worn off a long time ago, and there was also the possiblity of Harry going suicidal. Ron shuddered. He didn't particularly like that thought.

He heard the door close.

That meant SOMEONE had gotten back.

Ron rushed downstairs, eager to see who it was.

ASENKA:

Asenka eyed the shop wizard a moment, then smiled. "You know what... I think I'll take one too."

All of them heard the strangled noise that came from Snape's throat at that pronouncment, though that was the only sign that he even noticed what she'd said.

She rummaged around in her purse as the shop wizard gave her an odd look. After all, having working legs was one of the essential requirements for riding a broom.... but if she had the money...

Asenka plunked down the coins on the counter and smiled.

BLAISE:

Blaise watched bemusedly as Draco walked out the door.

Hum....Should I bother to catch up with him?

Blaise then turned his attention to the counter-table and saw Asenka pay for the broom. Blaise didn't believe that Asenka would be in the wheelchair for too long--rare of a sight it was in the wizarding world, anyways--and didn't feel inclined to ask about her injury.

Blaise eyed the majestic broom..

Mum's a penny pincher...Pop pinches pennies only to use them up for his crazy do-hicks...hum...They'd be pretty mad if I got this..

...

Blaise pulled out his wallet, counted out the appropriate numer of galleons, and handed them to the clerk.

"Have it sent to Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year, ol' chap"

Blaise smiled, eyes beaming with impish glee..

..making the clerk back away from the youth a bit.

Then Blaise ran out of the shop, and found his shopping companion.

"Where to next, mm?"

ASENKA + SEVERUS:

"Tell me, dear sister.... what exactly do you intend to do with that very expensive broom you just bought?" Severus asked in a dangerously gentle voice as he wheeled Asenka out of the shop, the broom on her lap.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out, brother dear.." Asenka said sweetly, running her hand over the handle. "Besides, I can afford it."

"You're going to take it apart."

"Well... yes. Yes, I think I am. I hate to... but I've always wanted to see how the Silversmith charms worked, and you know how they are about sharing them."

"You'll break your neck doing what I think you're planning."

"Perhaps. But its worth a shot."

DRACO:

Draco looked at Blaise. "Where did you say you have to go to?" he asked, consulting a list. "I still have the schoolbooks to get - as well as a new cauldron, since Longbottom dented the one I had last year..."

BLAISE:

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly.

"A caludron first, then--I can't exactly carry the multitude of books we have to get this year en masse with just the Levitation spell, you know--rather a bother to do that in public."

Blaise then scratched his chin, and a smile flickered in his eye (yes, eye, as in one of them--in this context, the left eye, as it coincides with the creative part of the brain.)

"...Plus, I can happily get rid of this piece of rubbish quite easily without anyone knowing the better."

DRACO:

"Let's go then," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Blaise if you want to get rid of the pen so much, give it to me." He led the way to the cauldron shop and glanced in through the windows. "Does it *have* to be pewter this year too, do you think?"

BLAISE:

Blaise guffawed at Draco's "kindness"

"--and burden you with such a monstrosity as this? You are most kind..."

Blaise then registered his last comment--

"I doubt it--pewter is so unreliable, what with having such a low specific heat--makes Potion-making very very taxing, having to re-do the calibrations and all that rot..."

Blaise then rummaged through a bag--

"I know there was a list in here somewhere...That I had of reliable cauldron pots...Blast" Blaise cursed, face twisting into an expression of indignation, "where did it go?"

DRACO:

"Yes, but remember first year? It *had* to be pewter, I don't know if that still applies now...and Blaise, you're a pureblood, don't you think that you should be used to cauldrons having been charmed to perform properly by now?" Draco said reproachfully. "Professor Snape wouldn't take a charmed cauldron if it was *offered* to him with all the gold in Gringotts - it tends to mess with delicate potions - but for us students, they think it's a fine exchange..."

BLAISE:

Blaise countered--

"Exactly--it messes with potions, those charms! And, pureblooded I may be, I may assure you that I would rather have high-quality and exact potions supplies rather than shammed makeshifts. Afterall" Blaise continued, pointing to his pocket where the most hideous quill lay in wait of its death, "Things as elaborate as charms to enhance potions, you know, can be a bit excessive, and too much of that gets rid of the whole potion experience!" Blaise ran a hand through his hair aloofly--

"Besides" he commented with a smug grin, "I'm certain that Snape, our esteemed potions master, would want us at this level to learn how to avoid leaning on the crutch of a charmed cauldron, would you not?"

DRACO:

Draco nodded. Besides, they were Slytherins, Professor Snape would turn a blind eye, and if anyone else complained - he could always point out that there was no *pewter* cauldron listed anywhere on their 6th year sheets. "You're getting one too?" he asked Blaise, as they entered the shop and started looking around. This place sold quite some interesting stuff...

BLAISE:

Blaise plucked a quill--a different one than the butt-tacky one of his dear ol' Pappy's--and twirled it in his fingers

"Me? of course. I'd rather not take my old thing back to school after m' mum has used it for eye of newt Casserole...no, I'm getting myself a new one, and mind you, I'm going to enchant it so that none but me can touch it, and anyone else who even tries will have a frog-eyed expression for a week" he chirped triumphantly.

He did a fancy twirl with his quill that involved a tossing of it underneath his arm-

"But of course I'll forewarn all the rest of our house--well, maybe not--Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't have much to worry about, would they?" He posited jovially, an impish grin across his face.

He then looked around a bit--

"shmancy place..."

BELLATRIX:

Bellatrix looked fondly at the snake on Voldemort's arm before raising her eyes to his face. /As pretty as snakes are, that face is SO hideous./ Bellatrix loved the smooth hissing of parceltongue however, and was pleased to hear him speak it.

::hiss-ness:: I have discovered that an enemy, one of the ones we fought in the ministry of magic, is a werewolf. And as you know, certain things can be done to take advantage of werewolves. He's going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts next year, along with another young and freckled red-haired man. ::hiss-spit::

VOLDIE-SHMOLDIE:

His eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets just a bit more that they normally would. The furrows of his brow deepened, and his eyes then slitted.

"Hhhhaaaas-saaaaaa-saah, sssshhaaaaa?" *Is that so, hum?*

He toyed with the idea in his mind...

/Werewolf, werewolf...what an interesting development--but it's fascinating.../

Nagisa hissed words--

"Sssssssaaaaa-shsaaaa-saaa-saaa? Heesaaaa?"*But if he were succeptible, would he not already be here? Does he accept himself?*

The Lord slithered a bit further down the room, ss-ing in ponderment of the information and consulation--

"Ssaaaa-seee-saaahaaa?" *Do you know much about the red-headed one?*

/Despicable red-heads./

BELLATRIX:

::hiss-hiss::Very little, my lord. He's tall with long hair and lots of freckles, he used to work at Gringotts, and he has brothers at Hogwarts who have Snape as one of their teachers. As for the werewolf, I don't know much about him either. I guess he's not succeptible, but I seem to recall seeing a recipe for a potion somewhere that would weaken his free will in the matter. I can find it if you like. Of course getting him to drink the potion would be another matter.::spit-hiss::

/Where had she seen that recipe?/ she thought to herself.

VOLDEMORT/LORD ASSSSSSSSSSP

Voldermort instantly raised what resembled an eyebrow at the mention of the other brother.

Where had he heard something about a red-headed boy going to Hogwarts like that...

Nagisa slithered up Voldermort's arm, and hissed into his ear: "ssss-aaaaseee-shaaaaa" *he's that Potter Brat's friend, sir*

Eyes flared wider than normal.

"Saaaaa!! Shhaaa-ssassaaaaeeaaaasaaa!!!"*Bellatrix! Worry yourself not about the werewolf--I want you to focus on that red-headed spitball you mentioned earlier.*

He lowered his eyes down to hers--

"Seee-aa-aassssaassssaaa" *he may provide an unprecedented window of opportunity for us...*

BELLATRIX BLACK:

'Yes, my lord. And what would you have me do to pry open this window of which you speak?' hissed Bellatrix in the ancient serpentine tongue, each delicate syllable pronounced with perfection.

She had heard that Potter himself was a parselmouth, but she sincerely doubted he spoke it with the care and respect it deserved.

VOLDEMORT/LORD O' SHITTY...

Voldermort stroked the scaly hide of his dearest Nagisa, and his gaping snake nostrils flared His eyes upturned sharply, an idea forming in his twisted mind...

"Sssaaa...seee-shhheeeesaaaaa.seeeaaaassaa...se?" *As it is a window...What say you to breaking the fargile glass...hmm?*

He looked to Bellatrix, full in her eye, and the slits of his pupils narrowed further to slivers.

LUNA:

Luna walked idly through Diagon alley, holding her father by his sleeve. It wasn't that she was afraid of getting lost; after all, she had walked through many times with her father to go to the quibbler's publishing company. It was just that she was afraid that her father, with his absent-minded nature, would see something interesting in one fo the shop windows, stop by, and leave her to go buy her book supplies by herself. Since he had the money, this wouldn't do.

"Luna," her father began, in his slow, professorly way of speaking.

"Yes?" she inquired.

"As touching as I find it that you don't think it embarrassing to still hold your father by the hand, unlike how it seems many OTHER youths these days DO, I just noticed something interesting at Oleanders...."

Luna looked up at him inquisitively, letting go of his hand. He wasn't serious, was he? Taking the hint, Mr. Lovegood quickened his words.

"Here's 10 sickles. that should be enough to pay for the rest of your supplies." He handed them to his daughter with a careless "clunk," and not noticing that some of the coins had fallen to the ground, walked off to look at shop windows.

Luna bent down amiably, picking up four of the 10 sickles and placing them in her pockets. 'At least he didn't run away without giving me money first this time,' she mused. 'Although,' she concluded, looking reproachfully at her list, '10 sickles doesn't look like it will cover it all...but I suppose i can make do,'

Looking as though she was simply wandering, Luna made her way into the cauldron shop. Gazing at the prices, she dismally noted that even the cheapest little chamber pot was 11 sickles.

'I suppose I'll just use the one I had last year,' she thought dismally. the requirements for the one on her list were 4 inches wider in circumference than her cauldron last year had needed to be. Perhaps 5th year really was going to be much harder than her last years. Although, last year had definitely been her most exciting thus far.

She started to walk out of the store, when to her surprise, she realised that Draco and another slytherin..Blaise, she thought, were in it. 'How long have they been there?' She wondered. With the single- mindedness she had inherited from her father, it was quite likely that they had been there the whole time. Recalling a serious of unpleasant events involving Draco in the last year, and not wanting to create another in the middle of Diagon Alley,she tried as cautiously as she could to back out of the store without attracting their attention.

COLIN:

Colin was currently bobbing up and down, hands pressed against the window as he stared into the broom shop.

"That one there, Da'! That's the one! Harry rides that broom, and whoosh! He's the fastest player ever I tell you!" Diagon Alley always got Colin excited. The sights, the magic, everything. Though he was beginning to tone down his bubbling enthusiasm as he got older.

Not that it was incredibly noticable.

"Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! And that shop there! The Weasley's! They just left Hogwarts! It was incredible!" Colin was beside himself with joy, but still decided not to waltz into the twins' shop. Heavens knows all the mayhem their creations had caused in the Gryffindor common room, let alone in a jokeshop devoted to them. Yes, it would be wise to give that shop wide berth...

"Da'? Da'? There's the cauldron shop, and I need a new one, after mine got damaged..." It had been a small accident... Really, how was he supposed to tell the difference between cinquefoil and dittany? "I can go in and find the one I need, while you help Dennis find his school things." Colin accepted the pack of wizarding coins his father gave him to finish some of his shopping, and waved as he trotted to the cauldron shop. Inside, he stared in wonderment. So many cauldrons... Soooooo many...

He blinked as he saw a familiar face. Where did he know her from... She was't Harry... She wasn't one of Harry's classmates.... He didn't even think she was a Gryffindor...

Oh yeah! She was that odd girl, with the brilliant magazine. What was her name? Laura? Linda?

Oh yeah!

"Luna!!! It's me, Colin!" He waved enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. It was fun going back to school.

BLAISE:

Blaise then caught a glimpse of some people in the cauldron shop--

/Hum? Isn't that...?/

He squinted his eyes, slowing down for a bit.

And then, he identified the subject of his squinting--

/Merlin's beard, it's that Golden-boy's most ardent worshipper! Scary bloke.../

Blaise immeadietly turned his head as if he hadn't been watching anything, and caught up to Draco..

/...I wonder if he keeps a golden idol that he worships...Humm.../

Blaise stuck his hands in his pockets--

"Owch!"

He immeadietly drew his hand back up and found he'd been stuck with one of the moxie wings on that blasted pen. He narrowed his eyes.

/Great. Just what I need...bad luck from looking at a Potter-worshipper for too long/

Blaise then sucked his right index finger--the one that was bleeding.

HERMIONE:

Hermione woke up quickly feeling very excited, she was meeting Harry and Ron at Diagon Alley today then they would be off to Grimmauld place where she would be spending the rest of summer. She quickly got out of bed and walked over to her desk, pulled open the top drawer and took out her wand. (OOC: Since they are 6th years I assume they can use magic outside of school now...) She gave it a quick wave and said a small incantation and all her stuff magically moved around the room and packed neatly into her trunk.

She let Zell out of his cage, and left to go shower as he flew out the window.

****

After she showered and got ready she floated her trunk downstairs and went to eat breakfast with her parents. They were always a bit worried when she would go off for school, but they were getting better about it as she was getting older.

Breakfast finished and they left for Diagon Alley.

***

She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye, and walked into the leaky cauldron, she knew she would be able to leave her trunk and other items with the inn keeper until she left, so she floated them over to the bar.

"Tom, can you watch these while I go and meet Harry and Ron?" She asked polietly.

"Sure thing deary. They'll be behind the bar waiting for your return."

She quickly left and walked straight towards Gringotts, she had to get wizarding money if she were to buy anything. She could hardly wait until she saw Ron and Harry, she had a lot to tell them; especialy about the book she had been reading.

LUNA LOVEGOOD:

"Luna!!! It's me, Colin!" He waved enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. It was fun going back to school.

Luna looked around. So much for secrecy.

"Hello Colin," she slowly responded, focusing her unusually large and unblinking eyes on Colin. Although she'd come to know him from a distance in the joint classes between ravenclaw and gryffindor, she'd only really gotten to know him this last year, with the two of them practicing together in Dumbledore's Army. He was a jolly sort alright, although his enthusiasm did sometimes get him in trouble. "And what brings you to the cauldron shop?" she asked, noting through the corner of her eye that at least one of the slytherins had seen them. Although it would be best to avoid a conflict, she was prepared for a face-off.

RON WEASLEY:

Ron walked with his Mum and sister, a little annoyed that Mrs. Weasley had insisted they all walk together. True, You-kno---v...v...Vol-de-mort *shudder* had risen to power and shown his connections to be vicious, Ron didn't think that walking astride in Diagon Alley would somehow protect them better from any planned attack.

Being taller than either his mother or his sister, Ron scanned over the bundles of people in the alley, searching for a few certain familiar faces. Even though Harry had been a bit of a prat over the last year...and Hermione had maintained contact with her Vicky-poo...he still ardently wished to see them again. After all, a friendship that had endured trolls, snakes, evil teachers and house elf conspiracies couldn't be deterred by such petty details. Eyes brightening, Ron caught a familiar bunch of frizzy brown hair in his view. His face coloured momentarily, without his knowledge, and he pointed her out to his family, so as not to arouse his mother's wrath. Smiling, he walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hullo, Hermione!" he chimed when she turned around to see who had tapped her

COLIN:

"Hello Colin," she slowly responded, focusing her unusually large and unblinking eyes on Colin. "And what brings you to the cauldron shop?" she asked, noting through the corner of her eye that at least one of the slytherins had seen them.

"Well, that's a funny story. See, I was in potions, and I got one of the ingredients mixed up with something else. Snape nearly had a fit, seeing my potion chew through the cauldron. He zapped it away, and glared at me some. But I still passed (barely). So I suppose the only loss really was the cauldron, right?" Colin laughed happily before gazing at the cauldrons again. "But there are an awful lot of cauldrons to choose from, aren't there? Ooo, so many...." Colin grew pensive, trying to decide which cauldron he ought to buy. His eyes fell on one that looked very much like his old one, and decided that would be a fine choice. "I suppose I'll just run over and buy that one. I'll be back in a sec, Luna!" Colin practically bounced across the room in flamboyancy, to buy his new cauldron.

DRACO MALFOY:

"Me? of course. I'd rather not take my old thing back to school after m' mum has used it for eye of newt Casserole...no, I'm getting myself a new one, and mind you, I'm going to enchant it so that none but me can touch it, and anyone else who even tries will have a frog-eyed expression for a week" he chirped triumphantly.

Draco made a mental note: Don't touch Blaise's things. Besides the fact that they could possibly be drenched in quill ink, from his curious preoccupation with the destruction of the ugliest of their kind, such an expression could be injurious to his image at the school. For Salazar's sake--it might even make it possible for the 'golden trio' to score a point on him. Banish the thought.

"But of course I'll forewarn all the rest of our house--well, maybe not--Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't have much to worry about, would they?" He posited jovially, an impish grin across his face.

Draco erupted with a contemptuous "Ha!" Without the slightest pretense of loyalty to his most devoted minions, he continued, "Those blokes wouldn't notice if someone transfigured their faces to bricks--at least, not until it was supper time, at least." He smirked as he imagined their desperate antics to force food through their solid faces. If it wouldn't look bad on him, he might have considered trying it himself. Too bad. It just wouldn't have the same effect on Harry and his posse--they required pranks with a little more finesse.

"Shmancy place....owch!"

Draco gave Blaise a questioning glance with one eyebrow raised. 'Prbably left something sharp in his pocket,' he mused. Suddenly, his eyes caught some ...somewhat familiar figures on another side of the shop. Turning towards tehm to clarify their figures, his mouth drew up into a contemptuous snarl. "would you look at that," Draco said to Blaise in a somewhat brutish tone. "Potter worshippers."

BLAISE ZAMBINI:

Blaise pouted.

"No need to point them out to me--That one" Blaise chided, pointing to Colin, "made me stick my finger by merely looking at him...they're very unlucky!"

Blaise then continued to suck his finger--

Or, at least, he would have continued, if he hadn't decided that maybe licking it would be more dignified than sucking his finger in public.

/Eh, it's worth a shot./

Blaise then held his finger a bit before him, and licked the blood off.

Somewhere in Diagon Alley, a girl dropped down in a fit of "kyaaa!"-ing.

DRACO:

Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't understand it. Pure blood of great lineage, Great Looks (Capitalized, of course,), all the money he could ever want, all at his disposal--and he couldn't even find one companion with enough decency and class to suit his pallette. His eyebrow arched painfully as he witnessed Blaise licking his finger. 'And yet,' he thought to himself, on a note of extreme self pity, 'He far surpasses the lot I've been putting up with for the past 5 years in Caliber."

At the shrill "kya"of the random girl in the street, Draco flinched. 'Ugh,' he thought ruefully. 'What business would someone have to scream in the middle of business hours anyway? With curiousity overcoming his desire to ignore its occurence, Draco edged over to the window, to catch a glimpse of what happened.

BLAISE:

Blaise stopped to look over, and frowned.

"Beats me."

He looked at his finger, and then--

"Ah, right! Silly..."

Blaise cast a quick bandage charm, and his finger was (a bit clumsily) bandaged.

"Should've done that sooner, would've saved some trouble."

Blaise once again looked off to the direction of the fangirl lying in a swoon on the street, and shrugged.

"What's next on your shopping list?"

Another girl just happened to be walking by, and saw Draco and Blaise together. She giggled, and ran off to tell her friends.

DRACO:

Draco looked suspiciously at the creepy fangirl lying on the street. Pretty soon however, a crowd of other fangirls had enveloped her, and she became lost from sight. 'Good Riddance,' Draco thought acridly with a shake of his head.

"What's next on your shopping list?"

Draco gave a sidelong glance at the Potter worshippers on the other side of the store. Five minutes ago, he would most definitely have gone over to annoy them..but after the incident in the street, he had lost his appetite for being a prat.

"Well, actually, I'm a bit short on quills. I lost a rather large quantity of them last year to Crabbe and Goyle, who mistakenly thought they resembled some sort of candy," Draco responded, still a bit huffy about the incident. He had not been pleased when he found them, sitting complacently on his bed, raiding his supply of quill pens. So he happened to buy them in bulk, in decorated boxes that LOOKED somewhat like fancy chocolate boxes. At least he didn't buy those tacky ugly things that Blaise seemed to carry around quite often. He began walking towards the door, and gave a last short, contemptuous look at the Potter-worshippers. Perhaps within another five minutes, his inclination to make their day miserable would return.

BLAISE:

"Hmmm...yes, me too, actually" Blaise commented, knowing that he very well was NOT going to use the ugly ones his father used. "I kow a shop down that way that has some nice green ones--and down Knockturn, they're some ones that you can spell in sulbiminal messages in" Blaise smirked.

He took out the ugly pen, and started to twirl it--

"Oops. Well, not really"

It broke in half.

"I suppose now I really must get my own then.."

DRACO:

Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise broke what was, as it seemed, not the first of his father's ugly collection. Not that it was entirely a bad thing that Blaise had sent the god-awful thing to feather hell, but, being a rich arse, Draco still placed value on thrift--especially if it would mean not destroying his own father's property. Only marginally displaying his amused dissatisfaction with Blaise's complete disregard for personal property, Draco drawled, "Well, this time I hope you'll be getting something with at least one molecule of taste?"

LUNA:

"I suppose I'll just run over and buy that one. I'll be back in a sec, Luna!" Colin practically bounced across the room in flamboyancy, to buy his new cauldron.

Luna gazed after him, and if it weren't for the quality of never blinking, she would have done so now.

'Certainly is an energetic fellow,' she mused to herself, eyeing several of the cauldrons. There were large cauldrons, there were small ones, and even oval-shaped. But, unfortunately to Luna, they were all rather dull. Glumly, she speculated,'I suppose that's alright, seeing as how I've got to get a pewter one anyways...' Just as she waas going to settle on a size 5 dingy three-legged model, the corner of her large left eye glittered at an object she hadn't noticed before. Turning gracefully, Luna set her full gaze on a cauldron that seemed just perfect. "hhmm...." she murmured, as she glimpsed the price tag. A long, painful inward struggle ensued.

'Well...I suppose Dad wouldn't notice the price even if he were here. and the Magazine is doing rather well..."

Alright. Not that long of a struggle.

Luna pleasantly dropped the exact amount of knuts in the cash register's palm, and walked away pleased, carrying a colored-glass encrusted size 5 pewter cauldron. She tucked it into her bag, and walked over to where Colin was almost salivating over the different types of cauldrons.

"Have you found one yet?" she asked in her disconnected manner, fixing him steadily in her gaze.

BLAISE:

HERMIONE:

Hermione had almost made it to Gringotts when someone tapped her on the shoulder and a famliar voice greeted her. She quickly turned around with a smile on her face, "Ron!" she said happily and pulled him into a hug. She was so excited to see him, that before she noticed the situation felt awkward. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and her head was resting on his chest; he really had grown a bit over the summer. She noted that the hug seemed to last a little too long and she slowly pulled away, blush appearing on her face.

She looked at the ground and moved her feet a bit, "How's you holiday been?" she asked before looking up at him. 'Calm yourself Hermione.' she thought, 'It's just Ron... you've hugged him before.' She looked Ron over and noticed that he had grown into his size. He was quite a bit taller, but he also wasn't as scrawny as he had been.