So…not the two weeks I was going for…but not as long as last time so I'm counting it as a win. :)

Can't remember if I wanted to say anything specifically about this chapter so I'm just gonna go ahead and post it.

Without further ado…

Oh…I suppose it's time I do this again:

Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter or Charmed. Me making no money. Me no use a beta reader. All mistakes are me proud property. Me no own…wait, I think that's it.

Okay, so here we go…

Chapter Nineteen: Tosspot

"So, what's this town's name again?" Chris asked looking puzzled.

"Hogsmeade," Hermione said smiling.

The five of them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Wyatt and Chris, were traipsing down the road to Hogsmeade for a little get away and a secret meeting. Hermione had invited the brothers to walk with them on their first trip down and neither Ron or Harry had protested, both quite welcoming the Americans, though a little reservedly on Ron's part with Chris. Apparently, associating in class with a Slytherin was different than associating extensively with one outside of class.

Harry hadn't flat out told Hermione or Ron about how much time he and Chris had been spending together, though he hadn't worked much to hide it either, and he was pretty sure Chris hadn't mentioned it as well. It wasn't that he was ashamed of spending time with a Slytherin; it was simply a matter of his not wanting to. It mollified some of his frustration to a point. Hermione and Ron had their Prefect duties and Harry had Chris. Okay, so when he thought about it that way it sounded rather weird and creepy, but when boiled down that was all there was to it.

"Hogs made what? English pigs must be a bit smarter than our American ones," Chris said.

Hermione laughed. "No. Hogsmeade."

Chris blocked his mouth with his hand, stage whispering to his brother loud enough to be heard. "Dude, I don't know about you but I don't think I want any mead that came from a hog."

Hermione laughed harder and Harry smiled as Wyatt gave his brother a completely lost look. Chris's grin faded as he stared at Wyatt. "You know, mead? Like the alcohol? Don't want any from a pig? No? Nevermind. You're an idiot. Completely hopeless," he muttered shoving his hands in his pockets.

Wyatt looked offended. "Hey! I am not an idiot. All the time," he added at a withering glare from Chris. "And I guess this time is one of those. But I'm not always stupid."

Chris rolled his eyes and punched his brother in the arm good-naturedly. "Lighten up, dude. You don't have to be smart. I've got enough for both of us."

Wyatt smirked. "You're right. That's because you got all the brain and I got all the good looks."

Chris sneered at him and soundly smacked the back of Wyatt's head before he could duck. "Asshole."

"Language," Wyatt admonished in a singsong voice.

"Shut up."

It was one of the most entertaining things, Harry mused, to watch the two Americans interact. They didn't act like Ron acted with his siblings, or how Fred acted with George. Where Fred and George seemed to inhabit the same wavelength and seamlessly fit together in everything they did, Wyatt and Chris clashed but blended at the same time. Where Fred and George were two sides of the same coin, Chris and Wyatt were two puzzle pieces that fit together to make a whole. What one lacked the other provided.

There was a sincerity between them, a dependency almost, that said without one the other would be destroyed. A closeness, a bond one only had with close sibling and something Harry would never experience no matter how intimate he got with his friends. It was odd, crushing feeling of revelation and Harry shook himself batting the reflective thoughts away to focus on what his friends were saying.

"So, who in the world decided to burden this poor, adorable little town with the name Hogsmeade?" Chris said staring out over the quaint little village spread before them.

"Well," Hermione replied, instantly launching into lecture mode. "I read it was founded over a thousand years ago, around the same time as Hogwarts actually, by the wizard Hengist of Woodcroft as he was fleeing persecution by Muggles. It's also the only all wizard town in Britain."

"Oh, well, that explains it," Chris muttered as Hermione continued to recite her knowledge. "Hengist, what a terrible name."

"Do you always talk like you're reading from a textbook?" Wyatt asked, interrupting her.

Hermione scoffed. "No, I—"

"Yes," Ron and Harry chorused, ignoring the glare Hermione shot them.

Hermione kept her mouth shut, allowing the silence to be filled with Ron and Wyatt talking back in forth with a few comments interspaced from Harry or Chris, as she led the way through the winding streets of the small village.

The made their way though the town rather quickly, giving the Americans a fast tour as the did so. Chris ended up having to physically drag Wyatt away from Zonko's Joke Shop complaining about it the entire time only to have Wyatt repay the favor in pulling Chris away from Tome's and Scrolls, which, according to Hermione as Harry and Ron had never been in there, was a rather spectacular bookshop.

"Who's supposed to be meeting us then?" Harry finally asked. Hermione hadn't told him much about the meeting she had arranged with other students to have him start teaching real defensive magic. In fact she had been rather evasive about the whole thing.

She shot him quick sidelong glance before waving her hand vaguely. "Just a couple of people," she said turning down another less traveled street. After a minute or two, a run down building emerged with a dirty, crooked sign hanging by the door depicting a hog's head.

"Lovely spot," Ron remarked.

Hermione shrugged a little. "Thought it would be safer off the beaten track."

Chris arched an eyebrow seeming slightly disturbed. "Safer? This place looks condemned. Are you sure they're even still in business?"

Hermione didn't answer as she strode ahead, cautiously pushing the door to the dingy little pub open.

The inside, if possible, looked even worse than the outside. The windows were large but so encrusted with grime barely any light shone through leaving the entire room in cast dark shadows. The air was smoky and smelled rank, cloaking the patrons in a cloud of concealment. Chris scuffed his foot on the dirt floor looking surprised and somewhat disgusted to find actual wood flooring beneath the filth.

"Lovely," he muttered leaning closer to Harry and Wyatt. "I feel like we're gonna be murdered by a serial killer or something."

Wyatt grinned while Harry stifled a laugh as Hermione glared at them and looked around more. There were several patrons sitting in various places, some along the bar others at separate tables. A few glanced up as the group entered but didn't seem to pay much attention before turning back to their drinks. The barkeep eyed them the longest as he continually wiped at a glass with a filthy rag that was probably depositing more dirt in the glasses than it was cleaning off.

Chris nudged him again gesturing at the barkeep. "Remind me to bring my own cup next time," he whispered so Hermione wouldn't hear.

They followed Hermione across the one-roomed pub, settling into a table in the corner. Harry looked around again, feeling exposed, like someone was watching them though no one seemed to be doing explicitly that.

"When are the others coming?" he asked tensely.

Hermione checked her watch. "Soon."

Harry rolled his eyes at her continued vagueness. "Fine. Chris and I will get drinks," he said.

Chris trailed after him up to the bar, seeming tense and glancing around like he was trying to watch everyone and everything at once. Harry turned his attention back to the bar as the bartender wandered over.

"What do you want?" the bartender asked gruffly setting a dirty glass down after he finished wiping it out with the cloth.

Chris eyed the glass distastefully. "Nothing if you're putting it in that," he said. The bartender growled, glaring at Chris, but the American continued not intimidated. Or oblivious. Either one was a possibility. "You know it'll work better if you use a cloth that's actually clean, right?"

Harry stepped on Chris's foot satisfied when the brunette American grunted and scowled at him.

"We'll just have five butterbeers, please," Harry said sending a warning look at Chris who was looking particularly displeased himself.

The bartender glowered but obligingly pulled five very dusty, dirty bottles from beneath the corner of the bar and snapping all the lids off in a puff of filth. Chris wrinkled his nose but remained silent.

"Two sickles each," the bartender grunted. Harry dutifully counted out the amount, paying for all the drinks, before elbowing Chris to get him to stop staring at the bartender and pick up some of the bottles.

Chris headed back to the table with two of the bottles leaving Harry to juggle the other three. Harry slid one to Ron and another to Hermione as Chris set both of the ones he had in front of Wyatt.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow and slid one back in front of Chris who scowled at him but let the bottle where it was. Wyatt took a tentative sip at first before nodding appreciatively and taking a longer drink. Harry took of gulp of his own glad to discover the unappealing appearance didn't extend to the drink and it was still the same butterscotch taste as always.

"It's actually quite good. Try it," Wyatt urged pushing Chris's bottle closer to his brother.

Chris made an unenthused face and pushed the bottle away. "No, thank you."

"Come on, just try it."

"No."

"Just a little sip won't—"

"Wyatt, I don't know how much clearer I can get than I don't want to," Chris snapped.

Wyatt looked a little taken aback but just scowled. "Well geeze. Relax will you."

Chris shot Wyatt a warning glance, holding his gaze a minute before looking around the room again. Wyatt nodded and backed off immediately. It was another small thing about the Matthew brothers, their constant instances of silent communication.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to be here, Hermione?" Chris asked suddenly.

Hermione frowned but nodded. "Better than anywhere else for this sort of thing."

Chris nodded distractedly still looking around the pub. He arched an eyebrow inclining his head to the entrance. "Looks like your first people are here."

Indeed there was a small group of Gryffindor students making their way hesitantly across the pub. Neville, surprisingly, was leading the way with Dean, Lavender, Parvati and her sister Padma, and the Creevey brothers trailing after him.

Hermione stood to greet them, asking them all to just grab a seat and a drink as they were still waiting on others. That was a little unnerving to Harry. There were already quite a few people here in his opinion and they were apparently still waiting for more.

Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley arrived shortly afterwards followed by Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot were next, followed by Luna Lovegood and a Hufflepuff Quidditch player Harry believed was Zacharias Smith.

Just a few minutes after, which Harry spent inwardly gawking at how many people were showing up, Ginny walked in followed by Fred, George, Lee Jordan and the three chasers from the Gryffindor team, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. Not a few moments after them Cho walked in with her redheaded friend.

Harry stared at her a moment before tearing his eyes away and mentally reminding himself it was rude to stare. He settled for looking only at the tabletop, trying to not show too clearly his apprehension about the whole thing. The unsettlingly butterflies in his stomach weren't helping, and he really needed to discuss Hermione's definition of "a few people" with her.

Silence was reigning over the group and it was only a few moments before Harry realized they were all watching him expectantly. He nudged Hermione's foot under the table trying to convey that it was her idea so she had to start.

She seemed to get the message, stumbling to her feet and clearing her throat a bit as she turned to address the crowd.

"Hi," she cleared her throat again, wringing her hands almost nervously. "So, you all know why we're here. We need a teacher," she said warming up some. "A proper teacher. One who's had experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

"Why?" The question was abrupt and everyone's stare left the three of them and settled on Zacharias Smith. Hermione seemed thrown and Harry couldn't comprehend why someone would need to ask.

"Why? Because You Know Who's back, you tosspot," Ron said quickly rising to defend his friends.

Smith didn't look convinced and pointed at Harry. "So he says."

"So Dumbledore says," Hermione stated drawing herself up higher and speaking in her most matter of fact tone of voice.

Smith shrugged. "So Dumbledore says because he says."

It was starting to make Harry feel sick to the stomach with anger. All of these people, well perhaps not all of them, but some of them, probably most of them, were here just to ask about what happened last year. Just to hear the juicy inside gossip of the horrors he had lived through.

"The point is," someone else spoke up, Harry wasn't sure who as he was staring intently at the table, "Where's the proof?"

Smith jumped on that right away. "Yeah. If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed—"

Harry smacked his hands on the table standing up abruptly. Everyone fell utterly silent, some not even breathing. "I'm not gonna talk about Cedric," Harry bit out. "So if that's why you're here, clear out now."

He didn't stay to see if anyone left, quickly striding from the small, downright claustrophobic pub and outside to suck in breaths of fresh, cool air.

†††

Chris stared after the retreating Chosen One until the door closed after him blocking him from view. The entire group sat silent, as if stunned into paralysis. Hermione in particular was staring at the door Harry had left through as if the whole thing was ruined.

Chris rolled his eyes looking around the cluster of shocked students. "So, anybody leaving?" he asked.

A couple people shook their heads no while most made no movement whatsoever.

Chris stood pointing at Wyatt. "You, play babysitter and make sure they all don't leave," he said gesturing at students. He pointed at Ron and Hermione. "You two, follow."

Hermione snapped out of her trance, obligingly following Ron and Chris out of the pub after Harry.

Luckily, as Chris had known, Harry hadn't gone far and was sitting on a rock just a little ways outside the pub. His back was to them with his face buried in his hands. Hermione made to move forward instantly but Chris stopped her, gently grabbing her shoulder and motioning for her to let him do the talking. She looked puzzled but nodded allowing Chris to approach Harry first.

"Golden Boy?"

Harry didn't look up, just groaning in his hands. "Please stop calling me that."

Chris arched an eyebrow even though the effect was lost since Harry wasn't looking at him. "Didn't know it bothered you so much," he paused waiting to see if Harry would reply and continued on when the wizard didn't. "Nobody left, you know. Well except for you."

Harry looked up, twisting slightly to face Chris. "What?"

Chris inclined his head to the pub. "No one left. Yeah some of them are here partially to see if they can give you the third degree about Cedric but they're also here to learn because on some level they know they need to. Trust me when I say that every one of them knows, deep down, admittedly some much deeper down than others, that Voldemort is back."

"How am I supposed to teach them?" Harry asked bluntly, seeking a genuine answer.

Chris opened his mouth to reply but Hermione jumped in, beating him to it. "Look at everything you've done, Harry. You've survived and accomplished so much more than any of us, than most adults have. You can teach us what you know, what it's actually like to face this kind of stuff in the real world."

Chris could feel Harry's emotions boiling beneath the composure he was trying to hold. He nudged Hermione's arm trying to get her to stop talking but she just plowed onward ignoring him.

"What it's actually like to face You know Who and live. You can teach us what to do so none of us end up like Cedric—"

Harry exploded, standing so fast Chris actually took a step back and Hermione fell silent abruptly. "You don't know what it's like!" he shouted. The bitterness saturating his tone was agonizing. "You, none of you, have ever had to face him, have you? You stand there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive! Like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up! You don't get it! That could have easily been me! It would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me—"

Ron interrupted meekly, trying to calm Harry down. "We weren't saying anything like that, mate. We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't, you've got the wrong end of the…" Ron was floundering and Chris stepped forward grabbing Harry, who was now retaliating quite loudly and spitefully, and roughly dragging him away from Ron and Hermione.

"Shut up," Chris growled looking Harry right in the eye to drive his point home, still holding Harry's arm in a vice like grip. "Quit telling everybody how much they don't get it. Nobody, and I repeat nobody, in that building or standing here thinks that Cedric died because he messed up. Not one of them thinks he was stupid. Crawl out from under your rock and get up on your frickin' high horse. Whether you like it or not you are the Chosen One and freaking Golden Boy. That is not something you can just get rid of when you decide you don't want to deal with it. It's a responsibility you will always have."

Harry twisted his arm a bit trying to get Chris to release his grip. "Let go of me." Chris didn't let go only tightening his grip.

"Listen to me. I know how you feel about what happened with Cedric," he said purposefully lowering his voice so Hermione and Ron wouldn't overhear. Harry pulled harder on his arm and Chris repeated himself. "I know how you feel about Cedric. I know."

Harry froze a moment then sneered at him. "No you don't."

"Yes I do. It is a deep, agonizing, never-ending pain and it sucks. I know that. But if it's eating you up inside this bad then you should talk to someone."

"I don't want to talk about it with a bunch of nosy people who just want a load of gossip to spread around," Harry spat out acidly.

"I don't mean with them, Harry. I mean talk with someone you trust. Talk to Ron or to Hermione. Hell, talk to your bird."

Harry scowled giving up for now on freeing his arm. "What are you? Some sort of closet psychologist?" he snapped.

Chris held Harry's gaze a moment before releasing his arm and stepping back, still speaking lowly. "I'm just someone who knows how it feels to be responsible for someone's death. Believe me when I say I can relate to how you feel about it." Chris fell silent a long moment, feeling his throat clench a little just thinking about it. He took a steadying breath before continuing. "But if you can't talk," he cleared his throat, trying to erase all traces of the tightness. "If you aren't ready then you won't want to. The others…you're right when you say they don't understand that part. They can't and that's a good thing. But it also means they won't see why you don't want to talk about it. In the future you might want to try being a little more understanding of them rather than chomping their heads off when they mention him. They're just trying to help."

Harry stared at him a long moment, and Chris had to wonder exactly what the wizard was seeing in his expression, before Harry nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "Okay."

Chris grinned at him fleetingly, gesturing over at the pub and Ron and Hermione who were standing there still staring at them like he and Harry were a TV drama or something. Chris had to admit it certainly felt like they were. "Maybe we should head back now? Before Hermione spontaneously combusts from the suspense."

Harry chuckled a little and nodded. "Yeah, guess you're right."

Chris smirked as they headed back over to Ron and Hermione. "I usually am."

"Harry," Hermione said, almost timidly. "You see don't you? Why we need it to be you. We need to know what it's really like…facing him…facing V-Voldemort."

Harry swallowed and Chris could sense the guilt at snapping at his friends and the surprise over Hermione saying Voldemort's name. He gave a short nod, and Hermione sighed in relief immediately giving Harry a tight hug and dragging him back inside the pub. Chris followed after Ron amused to see Wyatt in the middle of imitating something, which he abruptly stopped when he saw the four of them return.

Wyatt coughed; looking slightly uncomfortable while several of the other students struggled to hide their laughter. "Uh, and I return you to the gracious hosts of this lovely little meeting." He sat down next to Chris eyeing Harry calculatingly. He leaned over whispering in Chris's ear, "Well he seems to have done a one-eighty. What'd you say to him?"

Chris shrugged not really wanting to delve that deep into it. "Just gave him a little shove into reality and some good advice."

Wyatt raised his eyebrows looking curious. "Which is?"

"That he shouldn't bottle up what happened with Cedric. He should talk to people he trusts."

Wyatt eyed his brother critically. "Sounds like very good advice." He paused, "Maybe you should take it."

Chris looked at him wearily. "I also said if he wasn't ready he shouldn't push himself." Wyatt frowned opening his mouth to reply but Chris kept talking holding up a hand to stall Wyatt's words. "And that people around him aren't purposefully trying to pry like annoying little termites."

He turned away from Wyatt, ending the conversation for now, to see Harry standing awkwardly in front of the group looking like he'd like nothing more than to leave.

Just as Chris was about to say something to break the awkwardness, the blonde Ravenclaw girl he'd met once briefly spoke up. "Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?" Luna asked.

Hermione agreed instantly. "Yes. I've seen it."

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could do that," one of the other Gryffindors said.

Neville spoke up next. "And he killed a basilisk, with the sword in Dumbledore's office."

Ron's little sister, Ginny, confirmed that one. "It's true."

"Third year he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once," Ron put in himself. Chris raised a skeptical eyebrow at that one. He wasn't too sure what a Dementor was, but fighting off a hundred of anything seemed like a bit of an exaggeration.

"And last year," Hermione added, looking pleased at how everyone was responding. "He really did fight off You Know Who in the flesh."

"Wait," Harry said. Everyone fell quiet again at his word and Chris wondered if Harry understood the extent to which some of the Wizarding community looked up to him. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that. But the truth is most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help—"

"He's just being modest," Hermione said.

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione, I'm not. Facing this stuff in real life is not like school." He struggled to articulate it. To take the clenching feeling within him and give it words to let them understand what it was like. "In school, if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow, but out there," he gulped forcing himself onward, "when you're a second away from being murdered or…watching a friend die right before your eyes…you don't know what that's like."

The students sat in silence, none of them sure how to respond.

"There's no second chance," Wyatt said softly, easily heard in the quite. "No redo. You only have one shot."

Harry stared at the blonde before nodding slowly. It was the look in Wyatt's eye that caught Harry's attention. The same look he had seen in Chris at the lakeside the first time Chris had really talked to him. A look of understanding. A look of experience. A seasoned look. A haunted look. A look Harry saw in the mirror everyday but different.

"You're right, Harry, we don't," Hermione said. "That's why we need your help. Because if we're to have any chance against beating…Voldemort," she said the name clearly if a little hesitantly, "then we're going to need everything we've got."

The group was all nodding their heads and one of the younger boys asked, "He's really back then?"

Harry smiled sadly and nodded. "Yeah. He's really back."

Hermione let everyone sit quietly on that statement for a few minutes before clearing her throat and drawing everyone's attention back to her.

"Right. Well now that it's all settled there's some order of business things that need attended to if we're to make this an actual functioning arrangement. I brought a piece of parchment I'd like for you to all sign—"

"Isn't he a Slytherin?" Zacharias asked pointing, rather rudely, at Chris with a look of disgust.

Hermione hesitated a moment before nodding her head. "Yes, but—"

"And you're gonna let him join this thing?"

Chris drew his eyebrows together, a little confused and a bit offended. "Why not?" he asked overriding Hermione's attempts to pacify the situation.

Zacharias scoffed at him. "Because you're a Slytherin. You could run off and tell the rest of your house all about it. I mean you are all chummy with Malfoy aren't you?" Several of the other students were looking uncomfortable now that Zacharias had brought it up.

"All right," Chris said getting fed up with the whole thing. He really didn't know why Dumbledore had insisted on sorting them like normal students. It was simply complicating things in the long run.

"Here's the deal. First off, I guarantee you that until it actually benefits Draco in some way, which it doesn't as of now, he does not give a damn what you Gryffindorks and Hufflepuffles and Ravennerds are doing. Secondly, I do not report every second of my life to Draco just because he thinks he's King of the World or something.

"And thirdly," Chris spat sucking in a deep breath. "This whole inter-house conflict thing you guys have got going on here? It's ridiculous! The whole Gryffindors are self-sacrificing idiots and Hufflepuffs are loyal useless sidekicks and Ravenclaws are all marrying their books and Slytherins are cheating, deceiving bastards is freaking ridiculous. I swear you guys are worse than the whole black, white, Mexican thing going on in America! Grow the hell up and learn to work together!

"And then maybe, maybe, we won't all end up dead at the end of this weird crusade thing we're starting here," he finished a bit self consciously when he realized he'd stood up and everyone was staring at him. He sat down quickly, half hiding his face behind his hands, and Wyatt sent him a blinding smile and a telepathic message.

That's been eating at you a bit, hasn't it? Wyatt asked.

Chris rolled his eyes. "What do you think?" It had, quite honestly, though he wasn't sure why exactly. The idea that all these wizards were facing a threat like Voldemort and were still holding on to something as juvenile as house rivalries sickened him. If Hogwarts had any chance, they couldn't be divided.

Hermione was still staring at him speechless before finally shaking herself and returning to what she had been saying. "Right, now that that has been, erm, worked out. Anyone else have a problem with Chris being included?" she asked fixing a harsh stare on Zacharias who simply slouched in his chair.

"Nah," Fred said grinning.

"We quite like the little bloke," George said matching his twin's expression. Several other Gryffindor students nodded in agreement.

"Well good," Hermione said. "Anyway, I'd like all of you to sign this parchment so we know who all is interested. Anyone have any questions?"

Cho raised her hand slightly, focusing on Harry as she asked, "What exactly will you be teaching us?"

Harry glanced at Hermione. "Just defensive magic. The whole point of this is to get you to learn what you should be learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts since Umbridge isn't teaching us."

"Where will we be meeting?" Neville said.

Hermione bit her lip. "We don't know just yet. If you have any ideas feel free to tell us. Once we determine where we'll meet I'll let all of you know as well as when we'll meet."

"We could meet in an empty classroom," Cho suggested still not looking away from Harry. Her flameheaded friend was slouched unhappily in the seat beside her.

"Or one of the common rooms," Ginny said shrugging.

"We could meet in Hogsmeade somewhere," Neville said.

The group all offered up several more possibilities, Hermione diligently writing them down on a piece of parchment to be reviewed later. They talked over a few more items that needed discussed, such as when they would be meeting, what they would be expected to do, and some of their ideas for the classes.

"There is one final thing I need to say," Hermione said as the group had fallen silent signaling the coming end of the meeting. "Although the existence of our group is not technically against any school rules I can't imagine Umbridge being very receptive to the idea. The need for secrecy of this group is absolutely vital. Absolutely no one but those at this meeting right now can know. Understand?"

Everyone, some more reluctantly than others, nodded their understanding, and after a bit the students gradually began filtering out, a few staying a little longer to chat, until only Harry, Hermione, Ron, Wyatt and Chris were left.

Ron and Harry were now bent over the papers with Hermione, sorting through and discussing little details, talking amongst themselves.

Chris scanned the establishment again, not particularly liking the feeling of being watched he had. His gaze settled for only a second on a patron by the fireplace and he quickly moved his gaze away. Chris tapped Wyatt on the arm softly. "The witch with the black veil by the fireplace has been watching us since we've arrived."

Wyatt froze, almost imperceptibly, and cast only his gaze to the witch, appraising her. After a few moments, he smiled and turned to face Chris, talking in a low undertone. "I see her."

Chris smiled grimly. "Not her. Him."

"You know who it is?" Wyatt asked, redirecting his gaze from the person and taking a swig of his butterbeer.

"No. It's strange though. He's watching us but not maliciously. He's just watching. There's something else, too. The idiot by the bar," Chris whispered, subtly inclining his head to a man in a simple brown coat who was quite visibly staring at them at regular intervals. "He's been watching, very obviously I must say, since we started talking about what we were up to."

"What are we gonna do 'bout it?" Wyatt asked.

Chris shrugged. "Nothing. We don't want them to know we know they're watching. We don't know why they're watching anyway. Could be nothing."

Wyatt laughed. "Aw, come on, Chris, we both know these things are never nothing."

"You ready to go?" Ron asked them as Hermione gathered up her papers. Chris nodded as Wyatt drained the last of his butterbeer.

"Yep, all set," the blonde said.

"So," Chris said nudging Harry on the shoulder. "Still adverse and nervous about the idea?"

Harry shrugged wearing a very resigned expression. "I dunno. Just…going with it."

Hermione laughed, holding the door as they all exited the pub. "Well whatever happens, Harry, at least we know one positive thing came from today."

Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Cho couldn't take her eyes off you, could she?" Hermione asked, smirking.

Harry blushed, a very noticeable red flush racing to his cheeks and ears. Wyatt smiled gleefully, having been formerly unaware of Harry's crush, and immediately threw an arm around Harry's shoulders. "You have yourself a crush, mate?" he asked, savagely butchering the British accent as he peered seriously at Harry.

"No," Harry protested weakly blushing even more and hurriedly correcting himself. "I mean yes, but—"

"But what! What are you waiting for?" Wyatt said gesturing empathically as he spoke. "If she's making goo-goo eyes at you and you obviously want to make goo-goo eyes back at her then you should get together and make goo-goo with something else!"

Harry looked suitably mortified, red as an apple, as well as slightly confused, and Chris judged it was time to rein his brother back in. "Wyatt," he said sharply. He shook his head as Wyatt turned to look innocently wide-eyed at him. "Not everyone is a nymphomaniac like you, bro. Leave him alone 'bout it."

Wyatt pouted but obediently left Harry's side, coming to walk next to Chris as the five of them began trekking up the long drive to Hogwarts. "Well, I guess that leaves just one last question," Wyatt said.

Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. Chris grinned catching onto the question and realizing it had nothing at all to do with Harry's love life.

"I think I know what it is," he said speaking the next words in perfect unison with his brother.

"Ron, what in god's name is a tosspot?"

Okay…there it is. Hope you enjoyed. :) It's actually rather short as I look over it now but...*shrug*

See ya all again hopefully sooner rather than later.