Author's Notes: I apologize for the delay in posting, but unfortunately I am still experiencing technical difficulties. Many thanks to my patient betas, Arnel, Brennus, and seekers_destiny, and kudos to Arnel for her chapter title suggestion. I hope you all enjoy!

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Molly closed the small book she had been reading and absent-mindedly ran her hand over the worn slipcover she had knitted to protect the book jacket before slipping it into her apron pocket. With the departure of all of her children, the Burrow was quieter than it had ever been in the past twenty years and her heart was naturally heavy. She had spent the day after the children had left for school wandering from each of their rooms tidying up.

Ron's bedclothes had been twisted at the foot of his bed, his pillow on the floor, and a pile of dirty clothes had been shoved haphazardly underneath the bed. Crumpled up pieces of parchment spilled out from the overflowing rubbish bin. Apparently, her youngest son had had difficulty completing his Potions homework over the summer, she quickly deduced after flattening out a few pieces. She would have to see about sending him a study guide or two to help him improve in that subject.

The twins' room hadn't been in a much better state and she had been dismayed to find stains from some unknown potion they had concocted over the summer all over their desk. Even after scrubbing it with Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover she had been unable to completely return the desk to its original finish. She had debated all the way down to the room Harry had occupied on whether it was worth sending them a Howler.

As for Harry's room, if she hadn't known he had been there, there would be little evidence otherwise. When he had arrived a year ago he hadn't had a single possession to his name worth keeping. While they had found quite a few things of worth in his family vault, the only thing he had taken was a photo album that contained pictures of his parents and their friends. The posters that adorned the walls of his room were still the old, Quidditch posters that Charlie had hung when the room had been his. Unlike the twins' and Ron's rooms, everything had been left exactly as it had been when Harry first occupied the room, and the bed was neatly made. There was nothing of the orphan boy in plain sight.

Stepping fully into the room, Molly had moved to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Other than a few shirts that he had outgrown, there was nothing else inside. Pulling the drawers open revealed more of the same; not even an errant scrap of parchment that may have had a picture he had drawn or homework she had assigned him. She wondered what he could have possibly done with it all and deduced he had either taken it with him or thrown anything away he didn't think he would need.

Ginny's room across the hall had not been in so neat a state. Her bed had been hastily made and snooping within the drawers of her desk revealed old pieces of parchment her daughter had doodled on long before ever having met the Boy-Who-Lived. It was no secret in the Weasley household that Ginny had always held an immense fascination with the story of how Harry had defeated You-Know-Who when he was just over a year old. She would talk about how she had only been two months old at the time of the horrible event and would wonder what had happened to the little boy. As all little girls are wont to do, she would pretend. She would hold tea parties and pretend that Harry was attending and as she grew older Molly knew her daughter had imagined what it would be like to marry the boy. The parchment she had held in her hand had contained Ginny's neat handwriting, practicing what her married name would look like.

Molly sighed, wondering, not for the first time, how it had happened that her daughter had suddenly and irrevocably become bonded to the boy she had always dreamed of. It seemed odd, and she wondered if perhaps her daughter had always known she was meant to be with Harry. Maybe that was why she had been so fond of his story and daydreamed so many times of what he would actually be like.

For Molly, he had not turned out to be like anything she had suspected. He had been a quiet and subdued child while living with them the past year, and she never, in her wildest dreams would have thought he would have been Sorted into Slytherin. She wasn't sure what she made of it, but it raised alarm bells within her once again that they should be wary. What was hidden within him that caused the Sorting Hat to place him in the House known for producing Dark wizards? However, when she had voiced her concern to Arthur he had gently reminded her that Professor Snape was a Slytherin, as had been their potions professor when they attended Hogwarts, Professor Horace Slughorn. If there were ever a wizard who couldn't be further from the Dark it would be he.

Arthur didn't seem so concerned, nor was he concerned that Ginny had been placed in Hufflepuff. Again reminding her that their distant neighbours, Amos and Cedric Diggory were both Hufflepuffs and what good and talented wizards they were. He also mentioned Dedalus Diggle, whom he worked with on occasion at the Ministry, who had also been a Hufflepuff. She wasn't certain he was a prime example as he was odd as they came in the wizarding world, ranking up with the Lovegoods on eccentricity.

Regardless, it mattered little, the reason, as there was nothing that could be done about it. The Sorting was binding, like a magical contract of sorts, and could not be undone once the decision had been made. Not that she hadn't tried. She had called over to the school when she had heard the news and requested Ginny be placed in Gryffindor where her brothers would be in better positions to look out for her. Molly hated to think of her only daughter all alone amongst strangers in a strange place. She had always had someone to look out for her, and she was uncertain her daughter was ready for another big change in her life. Professor Dumbledore had been kind enough when he took her Floo call, but he had been firm, stating that he thought Ginny would do well in Hufflepuff.

Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin. Molly thought she might have had to withdraw Ginny completely from the school if that had transpired. As it was she had taken the time to write to her daughter and reassure her that she and her father were not disappointed in the slightest. She had also taken the opportunity to warn her to take care in making the right choices in friends, and had opted not to make any mention of Harry and his unfortunate Sorting. The whoosh of the Floo announced the arrival of Arthur and pushing thoughts of her children and their careers at Hogwarts aside, she hurried downstairs to greet him.

He look haggard and worn, and without him saying a word she knew his day at work had not gone well.

"It was a rough day at work today," he stated tiredly, confirming what she already knew as he settled his worn briefcase upon the floor by the grate. She gave him a peck on the cheek before they moved into the kitchen where he immediately sat in his chair at the table.

"What happened, dear?" she asked as she picked up a rag to grab the handle of the pot simmering on the cooktop. She placed the pot of stew on the table and waving her wand towards the pantry, a loaf of freshly made bread sitting on a wooden cutting board floated out to settle on the table next to the stew.

"Lucius Malfoy is causing a stir; stating it's against his rights that we raided his home the other day in search of Dark objects," Arthur supplied. "He's demanding that our houses be searched, as well."

Molly placed her hand protectively upon her apron pocket, thinking of all the Muggle items Arthur had in his shed. Some in various states of disrepair, and others, like the car that she knew he had modified, even though she pretended otherwise. "Will they do that?"

He nodded grimly. "We have to set an example. We can't modify Muggle objects, at least not without the proper permits."

"Well," she sighed with relief. "Certainly you received those before you made the modifications to the car."

Arthur was silent, and instead moved to ladle stew into both of their bowls before flicking his wand at the knife that lay on the cutting board to have it begin slicing the bread.

"Arthur," Molly pressed. "Tell me you applied for the proper permits."

"Molly, you know how long it takes to process them, not to mention the expense," he answered. "We needed the car fully functional for the trip to Godric's Hollow this summer."

"Oh, dear," she whispered. "What about the loophole you wrote in the law for the Ministry?"

"We can't take any chances. If the car falls into the wrong hands and the modifications were to be discovered," he trailed off. "We'll have to get rid of the car."

"Can't Xenophilius store it for us?" she asked, knowing how much the car meant to him.

He shook his head. "I imagine Lucius will press for all wizard houses in the surrounding area be searched."

"How can he do this?" Molly exclaimed. "What right does he have? He was the one who supported You-Know-Who! My brothers died fighting him and his army, and Lucius lost nothing! He sits in his manor, as if he wasn't willingly a part of those wretched Death Eaters! We aren't hiding Dark objects and you know he is!"

"If he is, there was no evidence when we searched his home. He's hidden them well, Molly," her husband admitted, rising from his seat and moving to her side. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and she rested her head against him. "I abhor Lucius Malfoy for the pain he has caused you and others, and the fact that he was allowed free without so much as a slap on the wrist. Unfortunately, he still holds a seat on the Wizengamot and that gives him power and sway over others at the Ministry."

His anger was evident in his voice. "I was able to secure another day. They will be here the day after tomorrow. We have to make sure everything is in order."

"Oh, Arthur," she sighed.

"Let's finish dinner and then I will take care of the car and anything else I have that could be suspected of tampering," he said.

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Harry awoke with a start when something heavy fell on his bed. Quickly sitting up, he fumbled under his pillow for his wand and glasses as he peered towards the end of his bed. With the heavy velvet bed curtains drawn it was nearly pitch black, but after placing his glasses on his nose he was able to distinguish a darker shadow crouched at the foot of his bed. Two, yellow round eyes hovered about a foot above his duvet, emitting a soft whiny snuffling sound. Stifling a yelp, he scrambled back until he was sitting in a crouched position atop his pillows.

"Who's there?" he whispered, squinting his eyes, hoping to better see whatever had dropped upon his bed.

"Oh," a high voice squeaked. "Harry Potter is awake!"

The gleeful tone to the voice made Harry frown as he asked again. "Who are you?"

The creature bounced forward on the bed, causing his heart to pound even harder in his chest. Attempting to avoid being accosted by whatever it was, he slipped on his pillows, becoming entangled in his bed curtains as he fell off the bed. He landed with a loud 'omph' causing a couple of his dorm mates to stir in their beds. He pushed himself up, while disentangling his curtains, and yanked them aside, allowing the pale green light from the window to offer him a bit more visibility.

"It is Dobby, Harry Potter," the thing yelped too loudly. It was going to wake up his dorm mates, and he really didn't have the energy to explain any more oddities in regards to himself at the moment.

"Shhhh!" he hissed. "Dobby?"

"You is saving me this morning!" Dobby happily chirruped, seeming to have only one volume, which was loud. "You is a good wizard!"

Having learned the creature's name had not helped him in deducing who or what it was, and it was still too dark to gain a good look at it. However, it didn't appear to mean him any harm. Nodding, Harry began walking towards the door.

"Er, thanks, Dobby," he said. "Why don't we go talk in the common room?"

Dobby shrieked in surprise, jumping down from the bed and peering up at Harry with his wide, tennis ball-sized eyes. It wrung its hands in front of its chest and its mouth worked, emitting much too loud whines. Now that it was standing in the faint pool of green light, he could see the creature was the little elf that Draco had been abusing that morning.

"Dobby, shhh," Harry pleaded, glancing over at his dorm mates again. So far, they appeared to have slept through the noise. "You're going to wake my dorm mates."

"Oh!" the house-elf. "They is not being happy if they wake!"

"Right!" he agreed, gesturing to the door, "Can you please be quiet until we get to the common room?"

"Oh yes!" the elf trilled. "I is being quiet for Harry Potter!"

"It's just Harry," Harry supplied, opening the door and motioning Dobby to exit.

This seemed to be too much for the house-elf, because he began weeping very loudly, raising the dirty tea towel he was wearing to his eyes.

"Oh, Harry Potter is asking Dobby to call him by his given name! And he is holding the door for Dobby!" He wailed louder, causing Harry to grimace, as he gave up waiting for the elf and moved to gently push him out into the corridor.

"Dobby," he whispered, "We have to be quiet, remember?" Taking the house-elf's elbow he quickly guided him down the hall, making shushing noises the entire way to the common room.

Once ensconced in the common room, Harry stood with his back against the boys' dormitory door and stared at the house-elf that stood before him.

"What are you doing here, Dobby?" he asked. "And why did you jump on my bed?"

The elf whimpered, twisting his hands together. "I is wanting to thank you! But Dobby is having to wait until masters are asleep!" He wailed and suddenly banged his hands against his head. "They is going to be so mad if they find out!"

"You mean the Malfoys?" Harry inquired, and the house-elf nodded, before deciding hitting his head wasn't doing the job, and crouched down to bang it upon the hard stone of the hearth.

"Dobby! Stop!"

He stopped immediately and looked up, a small cut now dripping blood having appeared by one of his quivering ears.

"Why are you hurting yourself?" Harry asked.

"Dobby is bad elf for thinking masters are not as nice as Harry Potter," the house-elf wailed. "Dobby is wishing the great Harry Potter was his master."

Harry recalled the abuse Draco had rained upon his elf that morning and realized that, no doubt, he had learned that behaviour from his parents. "I'm sorry, Dobby. Can't you quit and find someone nicer to work for?"

He didn't think it were possible for the elf's eyes to grow any wider than they already were, but they practically bulged out of his head at the suggestion.

"Dobby cannot leave! He is working only for his masters!"

"You're their slave?" Harry asked, aghast.

"We is lucky to be working for wizard families," the elf explained. "But some are nicer than others. Oh!" he howled. Harry was certain it was only his imagination that the awful sound the elf was emitting caused the flames in the lanterns on the walls to gutter. He looked around the room nervously, afraid that even the thick black oak doors would not keep the noise from travelling to the dormitories. Dobby had proceeded to stick his hands in the still glowing ashes in the grate of the fireplace while Harry was thus preoccupied. He screeched louder, but did not remove his hands until forced to do so.

Holding the elf's hands in his own, Harry tried to calm him down.

Fat tears leaked out of Dobby's eyes. "You is so nice," he repeated, blinking up at him.

"Dobby came to tells you he is repaying."

"No, Dobby, you don't have to do that," Harry said. "It's the least I could have done." He now wished there was more he could do. "There's no way to stop working for the Malfoys?"

"Only if they give clothes," the elf explained. "But they is never doing that."

"Are Draco's parents as bad as he is?" he asked, letting Dobby's hands go.

Dobby nodded slightly. "I heard master talking about bad things happening at Hogwarts this year. It is not safe here!"

"What bad things?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

"I don't know, but he is bad," the elf uttered before moaning loudly and wildly looking about the room for something else to abuse himself with. Spying the iron poker in its stand on the hearth, he lunged for it and began beating himself over the head, eliciting ear-splitting yelps with each blow.

Harry attempted to yank the poker away from him and a battle of wills ensued. Dobby was surprisingly strong and would not loosen his grip on the iron rod.

"No!" he moaned. "Dobby must punish himself for speaking of his master in that way!"

"It's okay!" Harry exclaimed. "Calm down!"

They continued to grapple with the poker until between both their exertions it flew out of their hands to land with a clatter against a floor lamp in the corner. The lamp teetered precariously before falling over with a loud crash; the flame from the lamp setting the curtains at the window on fire. Both Harry and Dobby turned to stare at the conflagration dumbly.

The sound of harried footsteps approaching the common room could be heard. Harry glanced down at Dobby who looked up at him shamefaced before snapping his fingers and disappearing with a tiny pop. He gaped at the empty spot where the elf had been standing just as Professor Snape appeared in the entry.

"What is the meaning of this?" the livid professor asked, and Harry dully noted in the back of his mind that the man had an uncanny ability to know when trouble was brewing.

He swept over to the blaze, his robes billowing behind him and quickly doused the flames, before whirling back to face Harry.

"Twice in one day I have come upon you causing mischief," he uttered coldly, staring him down with a look that perfectly matched his tone.

"Professor Snape, I can explain," he began.

"I understand you are still not happy to be a part of the Slytherin House, but burning it down will not solve your problem," Professor Snape snarled.

"It was an accident!" Harry protested. "Dobby, Malfoy's house-elf was just here and he was hurting himself. I was trying to stop him."

"You seem to always have an excuse, Mr Potter," his professor pronounced. "Why would Mr Malfoy's house-elf be here again?"

"I don't know exactly," Harry stated. "He wanted to thank me for trying to protect him, but then he became upset and started beating himself over the head with that poker." He pointed to the spot where the poker lay on the water-soaked carpet next to the fallen lamp.

"Where is the elf?" Professor Snape asked, looking about the common room, his tone and demeanour enough to signal to Harry he didn't believe him.

"He left," Harry churlishly replied.

His Occlumency professor studied him a few moments, before speaking again. "I do not think Mr Malfoy would like to hear you have had further contact with his servant." He waved his hand at the mess in the corner. "See that this is cleaned up before morning."

Professor Snape waited until Harry moved to pick up the fallen lamp before retiring. After righting the lamp and returning the poker to the stand on the hearth he pondered the curtains. The bottom hems of both of the dark green curtains were in tatters from the flames. He didn't know any spells to reverse the damage done, and wasn't even sure if there were any. He thought about reaching out to Ginny for help, but he was certain she was sound asleep and he hated to wake her. Not to mention he was sure she wouldn't have any better ideas. Giving the idea of fixing the curtains up as a loss, he focussed on the carpet. He resorted to tending it the old-fashioned Muggle way and gathered several towels from the boys' washroom to lay down on the carpet. He then walked over the towels until they were all sopping wet and hoped that the carpet would dry out before morning.

By the time he finished it was nearly three in the morning, and exhausted from his previous night's lack of sleep, he returned to his room and fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

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"And when I woke up and went to the common room to investigate the damage, the curtains and carpet were completely dry and mended," Harry told Ginny and Luna. They were all seated at a table in the library preparing to study, but he had recounted to them everything that had transpired since he had seen them last. They had finished supper early and as they hadn't been able to see each other after dinner the previous day due to his Occlumency lesson, they had a lot to catch up on.

He also recounted to them what had transpired in Professor Lockhart's class, stating that he thought the Defence professor may not have been the best choice for the position.

"Perhaps he was merely testing your ability," Luna suggested matter-of-factly.

Ginny nodded her head, two bright pink spots forming on her cheeks, "He seemed perfectly capable in our class."

Harry gaped at her agog. "You think he's handsome, too?" he asked petulantly.

"You have to admit he is," she exclaimed. "Mum thinks so, at least. She has all of his books."

"You mean he's written more?" Harry asked, astounded. "I tried to read the first chapter of Break with a Banshee. All I learned is that he is especially fond of bubble and squeak."

"Oh, yes," Ginny confirmed. "I already knew that. Mum refers to his Guide to Household Pests all of the time. Maybe Luna is correct that he was testing you."

Harry sighed. "If you had been there you wouldn't be saying that."

"You have to admit it helped your situation," Luna stated.

"Yeah, now the only thing everybody has to speculate about is when and how I'll turn dark," he muttered. "Ron said Slytherin was bad, but I didn't quite believe him."

Ginny looked over at him sympathetically, "Are they treating you terribly?"

"Not so far, no, one of my dorm mates, Geoff has spoken to me a couple of times," he admitted. "But everyone else, except you two and of course, Colin are keeping their distance. They're all just choosing to talk about me as if I wasn't even there. That reminds me, I need to talk to you about something Malfoy said directly to me, but I'm not sure here is the best place."

Tell me, Ginny said. Luna will cover. "Well, we're supposed to be working on our Charms homework, anyway," she said aloud.

"Why don't you two start and I will find the text we need," Luna said, quickly catching on. She pushed her chair back and moved to look in the stacks nearest them. "No one here but us and the book worms," she chirruped softly before skipping further down the aisle and disappearing from their immediate line of sight.

Merlin love her, Ginny breathed. So, what is it? She pulled her Charms book out and made a show of spreading out her parchment and setting up her ink bottle. Then she began rummaging in her rucksack looking for a spare quill.

Malfoy mentioned knowing my secret, Harry explained, mimicking his friend and collecting the things together he would need to begin work on his homework.

Ginny's eyes widened in shock. "Aha!" she exclaimed pulling a quill from the bottom of her bag. That's impossible.

I think so, too, Harry agreed, turning the pages in his book to the appropriate chapter about Levitation charms. I don't think he meant our bond. He said a lot of things that didn't make sense to me, and made fun of me for not knowing any spells. He called me a Squib. Do you know what that is?

Ginny's cheeks flamed in anger and she propped her book up in front of her to hide from anyone who may happen by their table. Yes, she seethed. You are not a Squib, Harry!

What is it?

A person born to a magical family who can't perform magic, Ginny answered.

"I found a couple of books I think we will find useful!" Luna announced merrily, dropping three thick and dusty tomes on the table.

Harry and Ginny coughed in the cloud of dust that surrounded them.

"Great," Harry said. "I need all the help I can get. I think I was the only one in my class that didn't at least move their feather an inch."

Luna looked soulfully over at Harry. "You shouldn't worry that your aren't magical, Harry. I think you will grow to be a great wizard."

Harry exchanged a quick glance with Ginny. "Thanks, Luna." How did she know?

She's Luna, Ginny replied simply.

"You simply need confidence," their friend continued. "And perhaps a friend in your House that can support you if Draco continues to challenge you."

"What's this Geoff like?" Ginny asked. She had noticed the blond boy speaking to Harry yesterday at breakfast, and he seemed to have attempted to strike up another conversation that evening, as well.

"He's nice enough, I suppose," Harry answered, "but after what your brothers have said about Slytherin, I don't know if I can trust any of them."

Ginny scowled. She had to admit that she had her own misgivings about the Slytherin House, largely due to the tales her brothers had brought home from school. So far, the only Slytherin any of them had had any adverse encounters with had been Draco Malfoy, but he also came from one of the most prominent Wizarding families in Great Britain, who had also supported You-Know-Who. He wore his entitlement like an extra robe, and his haughty manner was reflected in Slytherin students that called themselves his friends.

She sighed, "I am still trying to suss out why the Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin, Harry. It doesn't make any sense. You barely have any of the traits of a Slytherin."

"I don't know if I agree with that," Luna commented, studying him closely from her spot across the table.

"Luna, don't be daft!" Ginny huffed, taking offense for Harry, whom she could sense was feeling extremely uncomfortable underneath their friend's intense blue gaze.

"I'm serious, you two," the blonde girl replied. "Harry, would you say you are resourceful?"

He shrugged his shoulders in answer, causing Luna to shake her head in dismay.

""How many times were you able to elude your cousin when he and his gang were chasing you?" she pressed.

"A few, but most of those were simply by luck," Harry replied. "They caught me plenty of times." He shuddered at the memory of the past encounters he had had with Dudley and his thuggish friends.

"But you always tried to escape, correct?" Luna pressed.

"Of course! Anyone would!" he exclaimed in a loud whisper.

"Self-preservation," she countered, "That's two Slytherin traits. Fraternity and determination are both a given, especially after the way you stood up for us to Draco on the train. That makes four.

"It's too early to tell, but from your aura I predict you could grow to be a powerful leader."

"Luna, please," Harry protested, "That's exactly what I don't want people to think! They are already comparing me to Voldemort."

"You are nothing like him," Ginny interjected. "You need to stop listening to what everyone else is saying."

"That's easier said than done, especially since it's all anyone seems to care about at the moment," he countered, his eyes darkening as his anger built up.

"You really need to learn to control your anger, Harry," Luna admonished. "It's written all over your face. That's where Slytherin's cunning trait would do you some good. You don't want other people to know how you really feel."

"She has a point, Harry," Ginny agreed. "It's evident that you are upset, and it goes way beyond just me noticing."

"Of course I'm upset!" he exploded, his outburst causing several students who had been perusing the stacks near them to scurry back to their tables in various parts of the library. "I've been Sorted into the same House as the madman who killed my parents!"

Both girls looked over at him sympathetically and Ginny reached over to place her hand lightly on his arm. She was about to offer up more words of encouragement along with the strong feelings she was attempting to channel to him to help assuage his anger when the awful sound of Draco Malfoy's voice interrupted them.

"I see your mother wasn't able to convince the headmaster to switch your House, Weasley," he drawled as he approached them, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, as well as two of Harry's dorm mates. One was the lanky boy with black, greasy hair named Noah, and the other was a chubby boy with mousy brown hair, Ginny thought whose name was Mark Vaisey.

"What are you talking about?" she asked reflexively, kicking herself as she did so, knowing she should have simply ignored the arrogant Slytherin boy.

"Didn't you know?" Malfoy taunted. "Your mum called up to the school yesterday demanding Professor Dumbledore move you to Gryffindor where you belonged."

"She did not!" she said, knowing full well that what the boy was stating sounded exactly like something her mother would have tried to do.

Harry shifted uncomfortably beside her, and her dismay grew. Her mother had asked for her to be moved but apparently had said nothing about him.

"Guess she didn't care enough to ask about you, Potter." Draco snickered, his long thin nose crinkling up at the nostrils, and she very much wanted to hex him. She began to pull her wand from her pocket, thinking of which spell she had seen her brothers use and could possibly attempt to duplicate.

Guess that hug didn't really mean anything, after all.

Ginny was stung by his words and angrier than ever with her mother. Of course it did! Don't listen to him! He's a git! He's probably lying, anyway. However doubt wormed its way deeper within her. Draco's father was on the board of directors; he could be speaking the truth.

Draco took in the Charms books spread out over the table along with a couple of feathers Luna had brought along for them to practice with.

"Noah tells me you weren't even able to produce a proper Levitation Charm, Potter," he sneered, eliciting mean-spirited chuckles from his cohorts. "Pitiful."

Harry's anger was palatable to Ginny as she saw him rise from his seat beside her. "Do you really want to do this again, Malfoy?"

Draco indicated the four boys that surrounded him. "I'm not scared of a Squib and two first year girls."

"You were scared enough of me yesterday when you nearly fainted."

"I did not!" the blond boy exclaimed loudly, his eyes darting amongst his friends to see if they believed Harry.

"Your house-elf isn't here to protect you today," Harry said evenly, drawing his wand and pointing it directly at Draco's nose.

"We're in the library! You can't attack me here!"

"You're the one who came up to us and started in!" Ginny fumed, flicking her wand wildly towards the offending boy. "Flatus Extremus!"

Draco's eyes widened in horror and his hands immediately dropped to the seat of his pants, and without a word he turned, pushing through his friends to escape. A foul stench followed in his wake, causing his friends to double over gagging, and they covered their noses and mouths. Shouts of dismay erupted throughout the library as the offending Slytherin apparently ran past other students on his way out.

"What?" Harry gasped, his hand covering his own mouth and nose as he gaped over at Ginny. "What did you do?"

"A spell I saw Fred perform once on Ron!" she cried, her eyes watering from the smell still permeating the air.

Luna pinched her nostrils as she nodding approvingly over at her friend. "Draco certainly knows how to clear a room."

Her observation made Ginny realize Draco's friends had disappeared as quickly as he had, and from the sounds of it, most of the other students still in the library were doing the same. Keeping one hand firmly over their mouths and noses, they clumsily packed up their things and prepared to escape the stench, as well. On their way out, however, they encountered the stern countenance of Madame Pince, firmly holding Draco Malfoy by the upper arm. He vainly struggled, while still attempting to keep one hand on his bottom and the other over his face. A strange watery bubble ensconced the lower half of the librarian's face and her voice sounded muffled as she addressed them.

"Stop right there!" she commanded. "Which of you three is responsible for this?"

Draco whimpered as he wildly nodded his head in Ginny's direction.

"Miss Weasley! I am shocked that you would use such an unladylike spell on a fellow student! I will be informing both yours and Mr Malfoy's heads of houses!"

"He was harassing us!" Ginny protested.

"That is no excuse!" Madame Pince retorted. "Mr Malfoy go see Madame Pomfrey at once! Hopefully, she will have something to ease this chronic flatulence."

She pushed him away with a gentle shove and he quickly exited without a backward glance.

"Miss Weasley, I am sure you will be given detention for this matter, but for now, I expect the three of you to return immediately to your respective houses!" She turned away from them muttering to herself, "How I am going to remove the stench from these books I'll never know!"

While Ginny was concerned about what Professors Snape and Sprout would say other she was decidedly pleased to see Harry's eyes shining in admiration and amusement at her above the hand he held firmly over the lower half of his face. If nothing else, the prank had at least abated his discouragement for the moment.