The remainder of holiday was spent in a chaotic flurry of playing catch-up with all of the school work they had procrastinated on: Snape's essay, Moody's reading, Trelawney's palmistry report. Emily was grateful for what little she had started since it put her that much ahead of the others, though even she was quickly running out of time.

In the last week before term started back up, the only person with any spare time was Violet, who kept reminding Emily and the boys that they would've had free time too if they hadn't waited until the last second. So for their last seven days of freedom, Emily worked feverishly while Fred and George unwillingly complied, and Violet revelled in her well-earned smugness.

The first day back to the grind was the 9th of January, a bleary Monday, and Emily awoke to a strange black owl waiting for her in the Great Hall before breakfast with a card in its beak and a note wrapped around its foot. Both were from her mother.

She went first for the card, but the owl squawked and thrust out its leg as a reminder to untie the note as well. Once she did, it flew off to the Owlery with a grateful 'hoot.'

The card was housed in an ivory envelope, sealed on the back with golden wax, and adorned on the front with a fancy script 'S.' But the card itself was rather plain, a deep green paper with no message or greeting on its front.

She held it tentatively in her hands, brushing the note aside, and slid her finger carefully beneath the wax seal. Inside was a message written in her mother's swooping, elegant cursive:

Dearest Severus,

Bon Anniversaire!

I have been so fortunate, so grateful to have you as a friend and confidante. Thank you for all you have done for me and my daughter and for all of the sacrifices you have made both for and in spite of us. Please accept a small token of my gratitude in honour of your birthday this year.

Amicalement,

Noelle

She read the card again and had to stop herself from scoffing aloud: Sacrifices? What sacrifices had Severus ever made for her?

Emily never remembered her mother being the sort for cryptic letter writing before, but Noelle seemed to be developing a penchant for it as of late. She was growing rather sick of the new habit.

But it all brought to mind the peculiar article from the Prophet, the one where her father's name appeared only once, surrounded by scribbles and cross-outs and near-illegible notations. Perhaps the two were related. It was, at any rate, proof that Severus was as familiar with cryptic notes as her mother was...

All right, maybe she oughtn't have snooped in Severus's birthday card. Maybe that was what the note said. But even that was irrelevant to the point at hand.

She finally opened the note and read it: Emily, please give this note and my best to Severus. It was not signed and gave no further instruction, almost like Noelle had written it all after the fact, and Emily found herself wondering why her mother hadn't just sent it to Severus herself...

The Great Hall slowly started to fill with the trickle of students, and once the platters on the tables materialised, Emily grabbed a croissant and took the card down to the dungeon.

Although it was barely breakfast and still far too early for classes, she had no doubt that Severus would be in his classroom. That seemed to be where he always was, if he wasn't skulking about the castle looking to give out detentions.

When she got down to the Potions classroom, the room was dark, and she thought for a moment that she might have been mistaken. But she caught the flicker of a single candle on the tabletop of Severus's desk and knocked anyway.

There was no answer until the door swung open.

"Miss Prince, to what do I owe the... pleasure of your presence so early in the morning five full days before I'm obligated to see you?"

"This came from my mum," Emily answered and handed him the card. She held the back of the envelope so tightly shut that once she let go, it sprung open. "I didn't realize it was for you when I opened it."

He ripped the card from her grip without a word and set it down on his desk. He didn't even stop to open it.

"Happy birthday, by the way," she said.

He glanced up at her, his eyes hesitating on her face for a moment before he averted them. Almost begrudgingly, he replied, "Thank you."

"Should I pass your thanks along to my mum as well, then?"

His voiced turned to a snarl. "I will take care of that — and ensure that all correspondences go through me from now on, as intended."

"Grand," Emily said and pursed her lips into a tight, sarcastic smile. For a moment, she wondered about the article from the Prophet and whether Severus might tell her what he knew, dreamt about being able to extract what he knew by force through legilimency... After all, she'd spent the last few days poring over the book she'd kept from the library, studying the motions, the incantation, anything and everything to ensure that her cast would be perfect — but when she remembered with what speed and ease Severus had deflected the first time, she changed her mind and instead continued, "How was your holiday?"

"Of no concern to you."

Emily couldn't stop a cheeky grin from crossing her face. "So… very merry, I'll assume?"

Severus let out a frustrated sigh of defeat. "Barely more tolerable than this conversation, if you truly care to know."

If true, it was a shame. Emily knew Severus had stayed at Hogwarts for holiday — and he did every year, even when there wasn't the draw of a Christmas ball. She wondered whether or not he had any family to go home to, or if the loneliness of staying in the castle wouldn't be much different than going home.

To a degree, she understood that.

"I s'pose I ought to leave you to your... whatever you're doing then." He didn't look particularly busy, but she knew him well enough to trust that if he wanted company, it certainly wasn't hers. Emily hesitated at the door, as if maybe the extra seconds could convince her to change her mind about asking what he knew about the article, but she shook her head and closed the door behind her as she headed up to Charms.

Perhaps there would one day be a better time to find out...

After lunch, Emily and company headed off to Defence Against the Dark Arts, curious to see if Moody was the kind of professor to start them off easy after coming back from holiday.

As it turned out, he was not.

In fact, they were welcomed back with a pop quiz on nonverbal magic, which would start off their next lesson. As they practised nonverbal casting in class, Moody looked knowingly at Emily and Fred, and she could swear there was a sort of maniacal twinkle in his eye. It seemed like his glass eye never moved from her all hour, and she was a little grateful when class was finally over.

The rest of the students filtered out of the room so fast that Emily was the last one to grab her books and head for the door.

"Prince."

Emily stopped dead in her tracks and turned to see Professor Moody hobbling after her. He pushed the door shut.

"It's my understanding that you'd like to become an Auror."

Emily wondered where he'd heard that. From Severus? Flitwick? "I, um... y-yes, sir."

"Why is that?"

Great, she couldn't help but think, here comes yet another professor to tell her how ill-fit she'd be as an Auror...

She thought for a moment, then said, "I guess it's... well, it's because of my dad."

Moody looked at her, the dark of his real eye softening, and he let out a pensive sigh.

"I knew your dad," he said and shifted the weight from his wooden leg. There was a moment of wince that crossed his face. "We were... he and I were a lot alike."

"Really?" Her tone was almost incredulous. She couldn't imagine her father being in any way comparable to the great Mad-Eye Moody.

He didn't reply, he didn't even look at her, but the clenching of his jaw said enough. After a passing moment of silence, he said, "Mondays after class, I'd like to work with you."

"What?"

"There's room for improvement, but you're a strong witch already." His glass eye whizzed around his head before stopping on her again. "If you want to be an Auror, you've got to be prepared."

"Oh!" she said once she realized what he was offering. She imagined the clout she'd have at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement coming off a mentor-ship with Alastor Moody. She let herself dream, for just a moment, of the glowing endorsement she would receive, a letter of recommendation from one of the greatest Aurors of their time. "Thank you, Professor!"

Moody's lips snapped into a tight line across his face. "Lesson one: don't seem so damn eager."

Emily reigned in her excitement with a grateful nod and left class trying not to look too giddy.

Maybe sixth year really was the right year for strange things...

In Potions on Friday morning, Severus was almost — dare she say? — pleasant, though she wasn't sure why. He did not glower at her from across the room, made no threat to steal away her hard-earned House points, did not even accost her as she went to leave class. There was a sort of kindness in the way he ignored her. It felt strange not to have his looming shadow over top of her for two hours, and she couldn't help but find it the least bit suspicious, but she had to admit that the peace, for once, was nice.

Then came Divination.

While the Divination classroom normally had a manic energy as soon as Emily walked in the door, today it all felt calmer and more subdued in a sort of eerie way. She was tempted to attribute that to it being Friday the 13th, though she wasn't sure if Trelawney bought into that particular brand of superstition.

"Today, we're going to try our hand at the noble art of crystal-gazing," came Trelawney's quiver of a voice as she hovered like a ghost about the room. "Please do not be discouraged if your Inner Eye does not enable you to See before the end of class. It often takes years for even the best Seers to truly See with the crystal."

It was no surprise that most of the students in the class thought Divination was a load of bullocks. Even Emily found herself questioning how looking at some crystalline orb could possibly tell the future.

Divination, as a study, was so much less precise than Transfiguration or Charms or Potions, and while Emily had a fair knack for those, she was pretty sure it was luck that had carried her through Divination this far. Everything was an interpretation, and Trelawney was always quick to remind how far off any reading could be if one lacked the proper mind-set in the moment. And the one thing Emily knew? In this moment, she was not in the proper mind-set.

"Now everyone, please, take a look into your crystal and decipher its message."

Emily stared at the circular glass on the table top in front of her, secretly, silently wishing she hadn't bothered with Divination so she could just be with Fred for an hour instead. She tried to focus, but her flipped, mirrored reflection staring back at her was… unsettling, to say the least. And beyond that there was only darkness.

Her reflection seemed off, like it was not quite an exact match. It blinked when she blinked, moved in the same directions as she did, but something about it just wasn't right.

That sounded ridiculous, she admitted to herself, and it certainly wouldn't get her out of doing the assignment.

Maybe she could make something up, use some keywords from class to legitimise it, and hope that Trelawney didn't notice. Something about the grim or bad luck or a pleasant surprise to come…

The rest of the class looked just as unfocused as she was as Trelawney paced the room, mumbling some nonsense about opening your Inner Eye, and Emily tried again.

Looking past her reflection, the haze inside the orb seemed to shift, turning blacker and blacker until it formed a shadow of a figure in the distance. Emily watched as the figure moved closer and closer until it stopped just behind her reflection, so close she could almost feel its breath against her neck.

Emily spun around in her seat, but there was no one behind her. No figure. No shadow. Nothing.

Trelawney stopped at Emily's table and glanced at her, brow furrowed. "What see you, dear?"

"I dunno," she admitted, her pulse still racing in her ears. "Probably nothing."

With a curt nod, Trelawney set a hand on Emily's shoulder. "Clear your mind and open your Inner Eye, my child, that you might see what truths you can glean from the crystal."

Emily took a deep breath as she moved the crystal ball closer to herself, and it caught light as she slid it across the desk. And then it changed.

There was a flash of bright white light inside the orb, and the contents began to shift. The image of a strange castle layered with ivy. The shadowy figure skulking down cobble-stoned streets. A white hospital room. What looked like Hogwarts in near-ruin, its walls crumbling from within. The pictures flashed so quickly that she hardly had time to take stock of them before the next appeared.

"All right, students," Trelawney said, snapping Emily from her focus, "that's all for today."

And when she looked back at the crystal, all that remained was the grey fog...

When Emily moved to leave, Trelawney called her back.

"I Sense that you were able to See in the crystal today. Is that correct?" she started, pulling a deck of tarot cards from a drawer in her desk.

Emily shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, there were flashes, pictures... I don't know what any of it was, though."

"The truths of the crystal are not always immediately clear," she replied, blinking at Emily from behind her thick, circular glasses. "But perhaps the cards can provide some clarity."

She offered the seat across from her, and Emily sat down. With a wave of Trelawney's hand, the cards shuffled themselves, spreading into a line across the table top. Each of the three Emily touched flipped over on its own.

Ten of swords. The Tower. Death.

For a moment, Trelawney stared pensively at the cards, blinking wildly.

"No, no, this just won't do." She quickly swapped out the cards for a new set and instructed Emily to try again while she lit sage and brushed the first deck, mumbling about bad auras.

Emily took a deep breath before flipping the new cards: The snake. The Hermit. Death.

Trelawney jumped at the sight of the last card again.

"Betrayal... violent change... isolation... death..." She paused for a moment, her lip quivering as she took Emily's hand in her own. "My sweet girl, this is a most foreboding prophecy."

Emily pulled her hand back and stared back at Trelawney with a scrunched face. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I don't know what you Saw today, my dear," Trelawney said, her wide eyes focusing on Emily's face, fraught with concern, "but I hope that it was a less grim fate than this."

Emily stared at the cards that were laid out in front of her, trying to remember what they meant, trying to come up with an alternate meaning that might be more cheerful than Trelawney's. Ultimately, who was to say it all wasn't just hocus pocus — a trick of the light, unfortunate luck rather than grim fate. It certainly felt better to convince herself of that, anyway.

She tried to fake a smile as she thanked Trelawney and headed off to lunch.

Apparently, the shock hadn't left her face by the time she reached the Great Hall to the sight of her friends already digging into sandwiches and chips.

"Hey, Em!" Violet's normally peppy greeting was coated with concern upon seeing her. "You all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," she said, pulling her hair back behind her ear and trying to calm her breaths. She took a plate for herself and filled it.

"She always looks like that after Divination," said Fred with a chuckle and a swig of pumpkin juice. "It's those spirits, innit, Princey?"

She faked a laugh, and although she wasn't sure any of them bought it, they looked the other way and let it pass.

"I miss it being warm enough to sit outside," Emily moaned once she finished lunch. The Great Hall was so crowded that it felt almost suffocating. When the weather was nice, they could enjoy their spot by the Black Lake all together, but in the winter, they were relegated to their separate common rooms or to sit at each other's House tables, where conversations needed to be whispered or else everyone would hear. For now there wasn't much where else to go, though she counted the days until the spring broke up the chill and frost.

"We can always go somewhere else," Fred said and winked at her. She felt her cheeks go warm.

"Yuck," said Violet and George in a reflexive unison.

Emily rolled her eyes at all three of them and set her now-emptied plate aside. "Oh, come off it."

"Nobody said you lot were invited," Fred joked, and Emily nearly choked on her pumpkin juice.

Violet tried to hide her smile beneath a raised brow as she stood up to leave and grabbed her books. "Well, if you just plan to be gross, there's a whole library for me to occupy myself with."

"And I'm not sticking around for this either," George agreed once he saw Lee Jordan at the Gryffindor table.

Fred walked his fingers across Emily's shoulders. "Guess it's just us then."

"So be it," she said and leaned back into him. She fit right in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his collarbone, surrounded by the warmth of his green knit sweater. "But I don't know how long I'll last just sitting here without getting bored."

"We can make it less boring if you'd like," he offered, and she sat upright in protest before he clarified, "Not like that."

"Then like what?"

He fidgeted with his wand, rolling it between his fingers. "I want to show you something. But not here."

"Astronomy tower?" she offered. It had, after all, quickly become their hangout of choice. In the hours when there was no class, it was nearly always available and empty. There was something calming about the chill, peaceful silence of it all that reminded her of their tree near the Black Lake.

"You read my mind."

There was no need for secret passageways or hidden corridors as they made their way to the Astronomy Tower this time. The freedom of being together out in the open was like a new high. And at the same time, it didn't feel all that much different. That was her favourite part.

As they walked together, as their footsteps echoed in empty corridors, they didn't speak, just enjoyed each other's quiet company.

Finally, Fred spoke up. "You sure you're okay? You still seem a bit..." He searched for the right word before landing on, "off."

A wrinkle made its way to the corner of Emily's eyes as she smiled at him. "We can't both worry about everything, Fred, and frankly, it just doesn't suit you the way it does me."

He didn't seem to much like that answer.

"I'm fine," she insisted. And as long as she didn't think about the article with her father's name in it, the images she saw in the crystal ball, Trelawney's ominous quasi-prophesy, or Moody's upcoming lessons, it was true. For now, she didn't want to think about any of that either.

She hesitated for the briefest second in the stairwell for the East Tower and suddenly felt the full weight of her bag as she adjusted it on her shoulder. "Let me at least drop my books off first so I don't have to lug them around the whole bloody castle."

"I'll just take it," he said as he grabbed it from her, though he seemed not to expect its heft and sagged beneath it. "Ooof."

"I can just run them back to the common room," she argued, but he wasn't listening. "I'll be quick."

"What all have you got in here anyway?" He let it thud against the floor and dug through its contents, pulling out her quill and ink, her Potions text, her Divination workbook, and a thick book with a beaten, gold-lettered spine. "What's this, eh?"

Emily lunged for the book, but he dodged her. "Give it here."

"Defensive Magicks," he read aloud, then flipped through it quickly and grinned a mischievous grin. "Looks suspiciously like a Restricted Section find..."

"It's nothing," she argued. "Now put it back."

But he persisted. "What are you up to, Princey?"

"I'm teaching myself legilimency, okay?" she admitted in a hiss. She tore the book back from him and started packing her things back into her bag.

"The hell is that?"

"It's like... it's mind reading," she started, hoping her face didn't betray her fear that the words sounded so stupid as they came out of her mouth. "Focused mind reading, but —"

Fred let out a haughty laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. "Reading minds? What, because Divination wasn't enough woo-woo for you?"

"Shove off."

He stopped to look at her. "You any good at it?"

Emily shrugged, glancing down at the floor. "Haven't gotten to practise. Can't rightly try it on myself."

"Do me."

Fred looked at her so confidently, and she wasn't sure if it was because he believed she couldn't do it or that she could. But either way, it was tempting to have a willing volunteer.

The last time she attempted legilimency was against Severus — and it was a mistake. She'd been too afraid to try since that, but it hadn't stopped her from tearing through the book, practising the motion, imagining herself performing the skill as an Auror to the praise of her superiors...

She just shook her head and kept walking towards the spiral staircase that led up to the common room, and Fred rushed to catch up with her.

The bronze eagle knocker sprang to life before Emily could even hit the door. In a thick Scottish accent, it offered up its riddle: "I am tallest when I'm young and get shorter as I age. What am I?"

"Candle," Fred answered, without hesitation, like he didn't even have to think about it. He turned his glance to Emily. "Didn't realize this was so easy."

The door swung open, and Emily's face fell into a frown. "Are you joking? I've been trying to figure that out all morning."

Fred's lips upturned into a half-smile. "And if we waited for you to get there, we'd be here all day."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

The common room was surprisingly empty when they entered, which was good since usually it would have been improper for a Gryffindor to barge in on Ravenclaw space. Then again, if the magical door knocker didn't care that an outsider had gained entry, why should they? Fred took in the sights of the unfamiliar room while Emily rushed up to the girls' dorm to drop her back on her bed. When she came back, Fred was right where she had left him, eyes wide.

"We can go now, if you want," she said, enjoying the new weightlessness she felt without her bag.

Fred sighed. "I'm a guest in your common room, and you're not even going to let me enjoy it?"

Rolling her eyes, she took a seat on the sofa and patted the space next to her in an invitation to Fred. He quickly fell into the spot and spread his legs out in front of him. They could afford the detour for now.

"Offer still stands, by the way," he started. "I'm a little curious what mind reading feels like..."

She pulled her wand from her pocket then hesitated when she turned to face him. "You sure?"

"Hit me, Princey."

She took a deep breath, focused on Fred, held her wand at the height of his forehead and gave it a wave. "Legilimens."

The room seemed to shift around her until she was left standing in an empty space. There were words floating around the ether, Fred's voice an echo saying things she couldn't hear...

Then, one by one, scenes of memory materialised.

A young Fred handing an even-younger Ron an acid pop. A Quidditch match. Tossing gnomes over the garden fence with George. Setting off dungbombs on the Hogwarts Express.

The space darkened, and the scenes changed. Fred and George's winning bet disappearing in their hands. Fighting with Emily on the train to Hogwarts. Asking Angelina to the Yule Ball.

Emily took a deep breath and tried to focus, selfishly, perhaps, on memories involving her. She sifted through each moment like wading through water...

Kissing Fred's nose after he tickled her. Dancing at the Yule Ball. Snogging afterwards. Visiting him in the hospital wing after his brawl with Roger. Throwing snowballs in the courtyard. Fireworks on New Year's Eve…

The space around her grew warm, and she saw one last memory: Emily straddled atop Fred in the Astronomy Tower, her fingers tangled in his hair, his hands sneaking up the back of her shirt and —

When she released the spell, she and Fred were both still sitting on the sofa in the common room. His breaths were shallow, quick. She let her wand fall into her lap.

"Blimey," he said and blinked a few times in rapid succession. "That was... wild."

"You okay?" she asked, her eyes studying his reaction. His big brown eyes had gone back to their normal size, the colour returned to his face. When he looked up at her, she noticed he was a little pink in the ears too.

"What all did you see?"

Emily tried not to smile, though she was sure the blush went across her whole face as well. "Enough."

Fred ran a hand nervously through his hair and chuckled. "I didn't realize that was how it worked... hell of a technique."

"You want to go again?" she teased, though she couldn't help wondering just how often that particular memory came to mind. As she leaned forward, her wavy hair curtained her face. "Or are you finally going to show me whatever it is you wanted to show me before?"

Fred's face lit up, brightening around the freckles on his nose. Beaming with pride, he announced, "George and I have invented a charm."

"You invented a charm?" she repeated, incredulously.

As Flitwick had explained it, inventing charms was no easy task. And it was dangerous, to boot — not that the twins ever much cared about danger. In class, they discussed at length the mental fortitude and sheer will it would require to create new spells. It wasn't that Emily couldn't believe the twins were capable but rather that she didn't anticipate them ever actually trying, not really.

Fred wiggled his brow. "You're not the only one who gets up to research in the Restricted Section, you know."

"Do I get to see this new charm of yours?"

"Close your eyes," he instructed, and although it seemed counterintuitive she did. "And brace yourself."

"Brace myself for —?" She started to ask the question, but he cut her off with his incantation, and suddenly she felt a cool breeze against her face, a salty smell burning in her nose.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the middle of the ocean, and she panicked, wondering what kind of strange spacetime magic Fred and George had gotten themselves involved with.

She took a few steps forward on the bow of the large ship. Waves lapped against the sides as they sailed toward the horizon, to who-knew-where. She flattened the ruffles on her dress as the breeze caught them.

Across the horizon, there was another ship — a British one, with its Union Jack at full mast. It sailed quickly through the breaking waves, and as it approached, there was the sound of a gunshot.

The flag was gone. In its place: the Jolly Roger, which caught a gust of wind in its raise.

It was an ambush.

Cannons sounded, knocking her ship and throwing the crew askance. From the neighbouring ship came hordes of pirates armed with swords and guns and anger. There was chaos, battle, and in the midst of it all, Emily. She didn't know what to do — after all, she'd never been in a battle like this before — or any battle, really.

Suddenly, a swashbuckling young pirate swung by rope between the ships and grabbed hold of her, caught her by the waist and pulled her along with him to their ship while the one she'd been on fell victim to attack and ransack.

When he finally set her down, instinct kicked in, and she pulled his cutlass from its holster and drew it on him.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded, holding the tip of the sword at level with his throat.

The handsome young pirate didn't seem the least bit threatened, in spite of the cutlass's proximity to his skin; in fact, he just smirked at her. "Wouldn't want a clever girl like you getting caught up in all that rubbish — not yet anyway."

The sun kissed against his cream complexion, illuminating a face full of freckles.

"You ought to know I'm too clever to fall for a line like that," she said. She felt a heat rising in her cheeks and hoped he didn't notice the same.

The young pirate raised both his hands in surrender, and she dropped his blade to the ground. He stepped forward and took her hand and —

Suddenly, with a gasp of breath, she was back in the Ravenclaw common room. The sea and the ships and the pirate were gone, and although it seemed so real, she knew she couldn't possibly have ever truly been there.

"So…?" Fred asked, with an uptick in his voice. He looked at her expectantly and waited while she sorted through her disoriented thoughts.

"I was on a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean, and..." She noticed that Fred had stopped listening already. "Don't you want to hear about it?"

"I've heard plenty already," he said, still beaming, and waved her off. "Brilliant, that is!"

"Me?"

"No, not you. Us!" He fell back into the couch in an almost-stunned stupor. "It works!"

Her hands clicked into place on her hips, and she demanded, indignantly, "Do you mean to tell me that you used me as a test dummy?"

"Used ourselves first," he replied. "If we're getting technical."

"I s'pose that's fair," she conceded. Besides, he looked far too happy, and she wouldn't want to take that from him.

"That, by the way, was a patented Weasleys' Daydream Charm — well, not patented yet, but it will be."

"All that brilliance, and you waste it on nonsense like this?" she said, but he ignored her.

He stood up and offered her a hand. "Shall we go tell George the good news?"

"Let's," she agreed. And as they headed down to find George, she added, "But for the record, the transition could use some work."

At the end of Defence class the next Monday, Emily was champing at the bit. The other students packed up their things and made a run for the door, but she moved slowly, first stacking her things, then dropping them one by one into her bag until the room had emptied.

The others were no doubt rushing to get down to lunch, but she had something more important to do. Although she could feel her stomach rumbling at the mere thought of lunch, she also fought off its anxious flipping while she waited for the room to clear out.

Fred stood in the doorway with Violet and George. The two continued down the corridor in the midst of conversation, but he waited. "You coming?"

Emily leaned against her desk. "I've got to stay."

"What for?"

Moody's voice shot across the room at her. "If you're no longer interested in Auror training, Prince, I have plenty of other things to do."

Fred looked at her from beneath a raised brow. "Auror training? What else are you studying that I don't know about?"

"I meant to tell you," she started, stumbling through an explanation. "Moody offered to help me prepare and — I'll tell you all about it later?"

Fred let a shrug roll off his shoulders and left but glanced back at her over his shoulder before continuing on his way.

"So tell me, Prince," Moody started and closed the door behind him, "how have you been preparing so far?"

She sat back into her chair, and he sat opposite her.

"Um… I've been studying and trying to keep up my marks," she answered, though Moody seemed less than impressed. "I'm shooting for all Os on my N.E.W.T.s next term, and I…"

Moody let out a pensive but disappointed-sounded 'Hmmm…' and Emily knew she needed to pull out something more impressive than just the basics.

And then she remembered what she'd managed with Fred just the week before... Surely, that would do it.

"I've also been studying legilimency, and —"

"No." Moody snapped, his voice echoing like lightning across the room. His tongue flicked in the corner of his mouth. "Don't waste your time with that."

She scanned his face for any indication of joke or sarcasm, but he looked more serious than ever. Dumbledore had agreed that legilimency could prove useful, but Moody was an Auror so he'd know better, right?

She was more sceptical then she was willing to admit aloud — and there was no way she'd give up on that now, not with the time she'd put in and the success she'd shown with Fred. What Moody didn't know wouldn't hurt her…

Moody quickly stood up and hobbled over to where his satchel hung over a chair. He pulled a flask from the pocket and took a swig.

Great, she thought. Already she was driving him to drink…

"We'll go through the basics here," he began and shook his head to help himself swallow the liquid, "to prepare you for Auror initiation. That should be more than enough to give you a competitive edge over any of the others."

She knew she wouldn't be the only potential Auror candidate, but Emily wondered how many of them Moody was also offering to help train…

At least, as she practised her stunning spells and disarmaments under Moody's watchful eye, she could trust she'd have a better shot now than she had before.

I couldn't help but post this chapter on Friday the 13th! And yes, there really was a Friday the 13th in January 1995 - I love it when things work out so nicely!

So grateful to everybody for your kind comments, encouragement, and — most of all — patience! :)