Harry's good mood was bulletproof for the rest of the week and noted by his friends, but also by others. Snape and Umbridge had failed to get a rise out of Harry, and Draco's insults had little effect on Harry. Harry was sure that the Weasely trio was planning their revenge, "Remember now," he said playful, "Try not to break any bones and shed too much of his blood."
They had stared at him for a long moment, wondering whether he was kidding, until he had broken into a smile, "Seriously, don't hurt him. Public humiliation would be a whole lot better. Or would you prefer using him as a tester for some of your new products?"
"Perhaps there is a way," said George
"Or perhaps more than one way to achieve that goal," said Fred.
Ginny had already come up with a few ideas that had the twins winching in agony. Something about a shrinking charm applied to clothing. That had been on Thursday morning. Harry and Fleur had ensured that they kept each other in the best of possible moods and he was finding it easier to keep up with the sexual predator that composed Fleur's Veela side while thanking the fates that she was only part Veela. Lover or not, he doubted that any human could survive an encounter with a fully unleashed Veela lover.
Despite never having held a full meeting, numerous small meetings had taken place, in unused classrooms all over the school. His friends were teachers and tutors in all manner of subjects, ranging from those on the curriculum to providing a basis in many others not taught at Hogwarts. A number of students who, according to his friends, were honing Occulemency shields. Others were becoming amateur Geomancers taught by Ginny. There are dozens of hand-to-hand combat styles and everyone had found something to suit their personal taste, whether it was Goblin, Muggle, or even from the Auror training manual. Regardless of its source, different moves and techniques were shared amongst them as sparring partners' swapped techniques and maneuvers with one another. This was not what Harry had originally planned, but it was undeniably effective. He had told them, all of them, even Ginny and Luna, to use their best judgment. They had and the results spoke for themselves.
Harry had his hands full just keeping up with everyone else. However, it showed in his schoolwork as he began outstripping everyone in his year. The material was no challenge at all, except for three classes he knew he was doomed to fail: Potions on account of Snape, Divination because he was fed up of dying in every class, and History because everyone who was not interested in a career in politics tended to sleep through it.
What had started out as a study group devoted to defense had grown in fits and starts and was now a homework club that covered every subject offered at Hogwarts. They were drifting, and he needed to bring them all back under control.
The Goblins had proposed using a series of magical contacts, similar to the one that had bound him during the Triwizard Tournament of the previous year. The contract was crafted under Marinashka's guidance and he read over the parchment one last time, trying to find any snags or exploitable loopholes, only to find none.
Part of the problem was that he was actually uncertain who had been at the Hogs Head meeting less than a month ago and now if what his friends were telling him was true, they had closer to 120 students involved. It escaped his notice that no one from Slytherin was involved in any of the study groups. Then, something else had been distracting him, teasing him for most of the evening. However, given their relationship, just being in the same room with each other was distraction enough.
He let his gaze linger on her for a moment, curled up on a sofa reading an incredibly thick book. He tilted his head sideways to read the spine, "War and Peace, Vol. 1" Pain seared through his forehead following the jagged edges of his scar. It had flared off and on but never like this. Never this intense, for so long, he rocked backward on his chair and went crashing to the floor.
He snarled as the pain faded and found himself looking up at a cluster of concerned faces. "Voldemort's pissed about something," he gasped, "really pissed." He let his mind and memory relax, trying his best to sort through the confusing tangle of images and put them in the right sequence, "Something he wants to be done, is not happening fast enough. Really liberal with the Cruciatus… and I think he might have killed someone."
He felt the words coming out of his mouth, certain they were true. He did not know how, but strangely he just did. "You are sure?" asked Fleur quietly. He rubbed his eyes with his hands. Little stars erupted in them and he nodded.
"You can read… Voldemort's mind?" asked Ginny.
"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It's more like… his mood, I suppose. I'm just getting flashes of his mood. Whether he's happy or pissed off," He smiled as somebody handed him a vial of headache reliever, "He's all extremes with no middle ground, old Voldie," he said with a laugh.
Nobody asked because it was a stupid question, but they were all thinking it: What was it that Voldemort wanted that was not happening quickly enough? "He's not a linear thinker is he?" said Luna suddenly, "Sure he has more than one plan in the works. Can you tell what this was about?"
Even with his advanced Occulemency, Harry found it difficult to sort the alien flashes of memory into something useable, until he managed to catch a few snatches of conversation, just a few words, "Something to do with Unspeakables…. A department…. A prophecy." He whispered the last to himself. "no idea what any of it means," he said, sitting up.
"I think you should lie down," said Fleur quietly, "Take a short rest, it's not like you have any classes to attend." It was true that his only lesson on Fridays was Defense Against the Dark Arts, followed by an early start to the weekend. She nodded towards the parchment on the table, "I can do that, and send out the notices." His head still pounding, he did not notice the sly smirks and half-hidden smiles as he rose and exited, with Fleur close behind him.
"Ten galleons say his good mood will be even better after his nap," said Neville, framing the last word with air quotes.
"Sucker bet," said Colin with a look of jealous envy. Luna smiled serenely.
The spell chain from Harry's hand struck almost the door the instant it closed, giving them complete and total privacy as she wrapped her arms around his waist to half-hug him and half drag him back towards the bed. She knew his moods, their ebb, and flow and when it came right down to it, Harry could be a brooder and she knew she had to cut that off before it really got started. He sprawled onto the bed and she pounced him like a cougar, pinning him to the mattress. Their eyes met, and the corners of his lips twitched as if he was hiding a smile, "Playing grumpy?" she asked.
"That depends," he kissed her gently, "Is it working?"
"When I said you should take a nap, I meant to take a nap!" she sat up, pulling her legs under her yet somehow managing to keep him pinned down, "did you not understand what I meant?" Deftly he turned and had their positions reversed, and suddenly she was the prey - very willing prey. He growled, wordlessly as she vanished their robes and tossed her wand aside.
They had made love in a variety of moods. Sometimes it was long, slow, tender, and romantic. On other occasions, it had been more like this one: Hard, fast and rough. The details of it all did not matter, merely that they were together was enough to bring them both comfort, safety, security, and beyond that hope and above all else, happiness.
Having worn themselves out, she glanced at the clock. He was getting so much better at this, "Harry," she asked dreamily, still glowing with post-orgasmic bliss, "Where did you learn that trick with your finger?"
"Which one?" he replied. She gave him a look and both of them laughed as he pretended to buff his fingers on a non-existence shirt, "You mean that one?" She nodded, "It's amazing what you can find in the library," he said, feigning complete nonchalance, "If you know where to look."
"And how did you know where to look?" she challenged.
"I bribed Madame Pince," he answered, "I'm not the first student to make… discreet inquiries. In fact, she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "like father, like son," whatever that means." He ran one hand along her side, simply enjoying the feel of her skin under his touch as they cuddled together. With the fire crackling in the grate, it was not long before they were both fast asleep. It was an excellent use of a Friday afternoon.
He looked around and realized that he was walking along the same windowless corridor. His footsteps echoed in the silence. He kept walking. There was only one direction to walk. The walls were covered in branches and leaves. He stopped. Was he back in the maze? He pushed onwards, and the plants began to thin out, revealing bare black stone. This looked like some part of the ministry he had seen before. There was a door ahead. It somehow looked familiar but he could not place it. He stretched out his hand and could feel magic radiating from it. His fingertips were inches from it.
"Harry! Sir!"
He snapped upright, wand outstretched. The fire had burned low in the grate, and Fleur was gone. The second thing he registered was the presence of Dobby, standing at the foot of the bed. "What's going on?"
Dobby brought a levitating cup of coffee to rest on the bedside table before speaking, "Ms. Delacour asked me to wake you. The Halloween Dinner is to be served in half an hour. Ms. Delacour has taken the liberty of inviting your friends to dine and celebrate. Griphook and Marinashka also sent word: They can drop by later tonight, in time for dessert."
"How are arrangements working out in the kitchen?" The two elves got along well enough, except when it came to the kitchen. Harry had been forced to mediate their differences, finally telling them to split up the courses between them and to alternate so that nobody hogged the starters, mains, or desserts.
"Well enough Harry," he replied, "Winky has the starters tonight and the main is mine. I will be helping with Dessert." Harry nodded and closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the image of the corridor and the heavy door at the end of the corridor, "I… heard you muttering in your sleep. Bad dreams?"
"Not really bad," said Harry as he took the cup of coffee and drained half of it in a gulp, "I've had a lot worse."
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked
"Not now, Dobby, but thanks for the offer." He stretched and cracked his neck and back. He pointed his wand and brought life back into the smoldering embers, throwing light around the room. He looked up suddenly, "Wait a moment- there is something you can do for me," said Harry, "I need a place where a hundred people can gather, to practice, to study and learn without being discovered by other students, teachers, or caretakers."
The elf hesitated for a moment, "Dobby knows the perfect place. It is called the Come and Go room, or the Room of Requirement! It is a room that a person can enter only when they have a serious need. I used it when Winky was… drunk on butterbeer... before Harry hired her" he added hastily, "And Dobby knows Mr. Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and ‐"
"And if you really needed a bathroom," said Harry, suddenly remembering something Dumbledore had said at the Yule Ball the previous Christmas, "would it fill itself with chamber pots?"
"Dobby expects so," said Dobby, nodding earnestly. "It is a most amazing room, sir."
"How many people know about it?" said Harry, sitting up straighter in his chair.
"Very few, sir. Mostly people stumble across it when they needs it, sir, but often they never finds it again, for they do not know that it is always there waiting to be called into service, sir."
"It sounds brilliant," said Harry, his heart racing. "It sounds perfect, Dobby. When can you show me where it is?"
"Any time, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby, looking delighted at Harrys enthusiasm. "We could go now, if you like!"
For a moment, Harry was tempted to go with Dobby. He was halfway out of his seat when he decided not to risk ruining dinner and incur the wrath of his girlfriend. "Not tonight, Dobby," said Harry reluctantly, "This is really important… I don't want to blow it. Can you just tell me exactly where this Room of Requirement is, and how to get in there?"
Most would have been hesitant to trust the word of a sometimes, overactive house-elf, but this was not the Dobby of the past. Dinner that night was a relaxed affair, and Harry decided it would be better to give credit where credit was due, having Dobby explain the location of the Room of Requirement on the "Seventh floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls."
The starter went down well and it was after the main course had been cleared that Harry stood to address them, "I know things have gotten a little out of hand," said Harry, "I know most of you are teaching everything from Defense to charms, potions and everything else. Here's the deal: I don't know who can be trusted. So, I want each of you to bring only those you feel can be trusted, to pass this parchment test. We start small. Very small. You want someone in? Then at least three of you have to agree that someone is trustworthy enough."
That caused a firestorm of protest for every corner, "If you don't like it, then you definitely are not gonna like this: I have an executive veto. I cannot allow one person to jeopardize this! I will not!" Harry had silenced all of them with that simple statement. They knew exactly what he meant, what he was talking about it. "I once asked you, if you would stand with me. You said you would. This…" he shrugged, "this makes it official."
"Winky!" she entered the room, deposited a parchment upon the table, and left. She was no longer the same elf. Like Dobby, she had undergone a similar metamorphosis. She was no longer the butterbeer intoxicated elf of the year before. She was quiet, elegant, and light on her feet, wearing a black dress with subtle red trim and a pair of low-heeled shoes. She could have had the same uniform as Dobby but had politely refused it in favor of something more feminine, which she had designed and stitched herself.
She returned a few moments later, to announce the arrival of Griphook and Marinashka Thaz-Dom, both of whom received greetings and welcome as the friends that they were by the gathered teens, "Did we miss dessert?" Harry smiled and shook his head, "Then we should proceed." The goblin drew a slender case from an inside jacket pocket and Harry eyed it with distaste, before turning to his friends.
"Honor and loyalty, before profit," he said to everyone, "Read it, understand it, ask all your questions, and then sign it." It was not an overly long document but its purpose was clear: It bound all of them to secrecy. They could not discuss what took place at these meetings with anyone who had not signed the parchment.
"I'll ask the obvious question," said Colin, "What happens if we do talk?"
"A number of things: it will start with the equivalent of a mental slap to the back of the head," said Griphook, "Though I'm loath to admit it, everyone can make a stupid mistake at some point. After that, it will get worse, until well… let's just say that since you are all underage, the worst will be complete public humiliation, that will probably make you wish you were dead."
"That, last part stays between us. Public humiliation of a traitor will at least make clear that there is a traitor in our ranks…. And we know that there is already one, with educational decree number 24," said Harry as he opened the slender case and extracted the quill it contained. Harry was the first to sign and winced as the back of his hand slashed open as he wrote, but almost immediately healed over.
Fleur eyed the artifact warily, "Blood Quill?"
"Not just any blood quill, Fleur," said Griphook, "You are familiar with the blood quills used by Gringotts to seal contracts such as marriage proposals and so forth?" She nodded, "It is one of those quills." He took the quill and signed, followed by Marinashka.
"Then I will sign," she said, adding her signature on the fourth line. She met Harry's questioning gaze, "You don't do things by halves. This way, you know the secret is safe." Signed by all present, Griphook copied the parchment and returned the original to Harry. The students would never sign in blood, and Harry did not plan on that being necessary: Blood ensured that his friends could not betray them even under coercion, of any kind. It was not about trust. It was about protecting all of them, from each other if necessary.
Marinashka produced a small bag, "A master and two hundred receivers. It was a little tricky getting the size and weight down but, we managed." She opened it and passed out a number of rings. Marinashka presented him with a simple yet tasteful platinum band, about half a centimeter thick. "Mandatum to activate," she said, "First four numbers are date, last four are for time. Just focus on the date and then the time, and it will appear on the ring. Then "traditum" to send and "Finite" to cancel. They need a drop of blood, and then they are keyed to you: Only you can use the concealment charm, and only you can read the date and time."
Comprehension dawned quickly as everyone picked one and Marinashka to demonstrate quickly how to acknowledge a message and to use the built-in concealment charm. Harry was getting a feel for the small device when Dobby interrupted, "Apologies for intruding but, shall I put dessert under a warming charm?"
"Don't you dare," Harry said, "I think our business is concluded. Molten chocolate cake anyone?" that was met with enthusiasm all around, "Would you care to join us?" he asked the Goblins with a smile of his own, "I know Marinashka has a bit of a sweet tooth," she grinned at him, "and a mutual associate managed to track down a particularly rare bottle of Sun Blonded Single Malt by Mackay."
"Flattery and bribery, Mr. Potter," said Griphook with a shake of the head "Will get you just about everywhere."
The gathered friends had missed the Halloween Feast, and none of them thought anything of it until Myrtle floated through the wall and went right through Griphook who convulsively gripped his glass, and no wonder: Sun Blonded Single Malt by Mackay retailed for over a thousand galleons a bottle, and that was if you could find one. "Harry! The Headmaster has sent the ghosts looking for you," she paused and looked around the room, "Well, all of you!"
"Don't suppose we could just stay in hiding until they go away?" asked Neville.
"Nah, I've got a better idea," said Harry, "Accio Trunk!" his trunk zipped out of his room and everyone scrambled for cover, "Oh shit!" said Harry before the heavy piece of luggage took him full in the chest. The trunk bounced off and landed on the floor unharmed. Harry on the other hand went skidding across the floor until he collided with the wall.
He rose to his feet and winced, as he cast a diagnostic charm that confirmed his suspicions, "Somebody heal that for me!" while basic healing charms were simple enough to master, some were incapable of getting any results with a particular branch of magic. Harry's strengths were clearly Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration. Healing would rank as his number one weakness, It took only a few minutes to set the bones right before he was ready to move, "I didn't think I'd actually get to use this thing so soon!"
"Listen to me, very carefully," he said, "You can't apparate through the wards of Hogwarts, but you can teleport within the castle. Get to the Entrance Hall and head out in to the grounds." The twins, Fleur, Griphook and Marinashka vanished without a sound. He grabbed Luna by the arm, "I'll take you by side along apparition," he handed his invisibility cloak and the two he had stolen off Tonks and Moody to the last three. "Get out onto the grounds and find us! Look for the blazing fire by the lake!"
"Dobby! Winky!" both elves appeared with a pop, "you know what a barbecue is?" They both nodded, confused, "Headmaster and Umbridge are looking for us."
"Diversion?" asked Dobby
"Barbecue on the lake?" asked Winky.
The elves looked at each other and then back at Harry. With a firm nod apiece, they vanished. Taking a firm grasp of Luna's arm, he brought them to the entrance hall and lead the way down to the grounds. When they were far enough away from the castle, he pulled his trunk from his pocket and enlarged it. Spinning the combinations he opened it up and extracted a plethora of objects that had everyone looking at him in amazement, "What?" he asked defensively, "So I went shopping and went a little nuts during the summer."
"A little?" asked Fred.
"More like totally nuts," said George.
Fleur grabbed each of them by an ear, "Now boys," she said, "Behave yourselves." Harry had not noticed the exchange as he barked orders to everyone. Within minutes, they had the barbecue blazing, lanterns, warming charms, tables, and chairs set up and scattered about… as if they had been outdoors for hours. A few moments later, Dobby and Winky appeared with enough food and drink for twice as many people, "House elves," said Fleur, "Always over prepared."
Both elves made an impressive show of setting things up and getting the minor details of used plates, cutlery and half-finished drinks in order. They had even managed to find a few half filled rubbish bags. "Do I want to know?" asked Harry.
"Dobby would suggest… no." answered the elf as he expertly vanished half a bottle of butterbeer, dirtied up a stack of disposable plates and cutlery while grilling a half dozen sausages, and some chicken wings, "Dobby would also suggest, not asking Winky about it." Harry decided that he would stop asking how his elves got things done.
It took only a few minutes before all of them were reasonably comfortable, and Dobby, with Winky's assistance, was serving dessert all around when they saw the first hint of trouble. At least, Harry saw it that way with Dumbledore striding across the grass towards them, "Good Evening, Harry," he called.
Harry's fingers clenched but with an effort, he managed to relax and calm himself. Too many witnesses present if things got out of hand. "Evening Headmaster," he called in reply, "Is everything all right?"
Dumbledore took in the assorted gathering of students and managed to prevent his jaw from dropping in surprise. It was not the presence of Fleur, but that of the two Goblins. Taking a moment to compose himself he strode towards the group, "Professor Umbridge has expressed some concerns over where you disappear to on a regular basis Harry," he nodded to the other students, "likewise your friends, and other associates."
"Yeah well," Harry shrugged, "I proposed a barbecue and everyone thought it was a good idea, so we barbecue."
"In such weather?" he asked.
"A couple of charms and its quite comfy," said Harry, "Griphook, could your pour me a half measure? I'd like to try it." In the half-light, Griphook did not miss the raised eyebrow and the goblin did his best not to smirk, as he poured a finger's worth of the golden amber fluid and handed the glass to Harry.
Dumbledore could only watch wide-eyed as Harry sipped the alcohol. He was only fifteen! He was about to object when he remembered something of crucial importance: This was no mere minor, but an emancipated teenager, who was no doubt testing him. "The Firewhisky to your liking Harry?" asked Dumbledore cordially.
"Not really my thing," said Harry. "But this," he raised the glass as if he was toasting the heavens, "This is like liquid heaven. Nothing beats Sun Blonded Single Malt by Mackay." It gave both goblins and Harry a perverse sense of pleasure to watch the headmaster's eyes bug out of his head for a moment, "If there is nothing else?"
The rest of the evening passed without incident and wrapped up shortly thereafter. Of course, by breakfast the following morning, word had spread about Harry's impromptu Halloween party. Not that he really cared. It was on Tuesday that Harry made his way up to the seventh floor with a certain piece of aged parchment in his hand and confirmed the truth of the Room of Requirement.
Wednesday, was their first meeting and he realized that seventy students were going to be missed, so this meeting would have to be short and to the point. Each of his friends had followed his instructions to the letter, bringing in only those they thought could be trusted but also pass the parchment test. When the last of them arrived, he waved his hand at the door carelessly and the door locked itself. "There are seventy of us, and frankly, we will be missed if we gather like this. Five groups of fifteen," he said without preamble, "You want in? Read and sign, otherwise, you're done here."
There were the usual questions about what they were signing but once answered, with the equally usual answers regarding self-preservation, and secrecy, they signed their names. Inwardly, Harry wanted to scream in frustration. Fourth-year students were more interested in learning real defense, in preparing for the real world than the government, "You are all underage right now," said Harry calmly, "But I can teach you to fight, and I can teach you to defend yourself and above all else, I can teach you how to run and save your lives."
Harry glanced at his watch, "Right, we start with the basics: Endurance, stamina, and how not to get hit by any curse: Dodging." There was a chorus of grumbling, "Shaddup," he snapped and the grumbling ceased, "You signed, you're in. The magic starts next week, so come prepared: Charms, Defense, Transfiguration. Review and learn it, because you are learning how to fight. This is not about grades. This is about staying alive."
The room changed, as what looked like a four badminton course appeared, "We," he said, "are going to play dodgeball." He suddenly sported a predatory smile, "It's just like it sounds: dodge the ball, pick it up and make someone else dodge. You get hit you are out. Let's play!" It quickly proved his point: Harry and his friends were barely winded and the last ones standing. Everyone else was out.
He glanced at his watch and swore quietly, "Where the heck did the time go?" They had only managed two games but he was sure he had gotten the point across about the need for stamina and endurance, "A real duel will be more challenging, more draining, so get in shape. Start working out. If nothing else, you'll be healthier and live longer for it. One more thing," he dumped the contents of a sack across a table that had just appeared, courtesy of the room, "Take one each."
Everyone seemed confused by Harry handing out silver jewelry of exceptional make and quality but it was not long before everyone had a ring. "This is the messy part," he said, as an array of needles appeared on the table, "A drop of blood on the metal will activate the charms."
There was a moment of hesitation before everyone had a drop of blood on a ring. The metal band glowed for a moment, red then blue as it absorbed the blood, and everyone could see the eight numbers on the ring, "Concealment charm is keyed to you. Only you can activate it, and deactivate it. The first four numbers are the date. The second four are the time. It will grow warm to tell you the date and time of the next meeting for your group."
He glanced at his watch again, "Our time here is up. So one last thing: Welcome to The Legion. Now get outta here before Filch or worse catches you out of bounds!"
Harry felt as though he were carrying some kind of talisman inside his chest over the following two weeks, a glowing secret that supported him through Umbridge's classes and even made it possible for him to smile blandly as he looked into her horrible bulging eyes. The Legion resisted right under Umbridge's nose and he took pride in the accomplishment of those he was teaching. All were making progress with Legilimency and Occulemency. Not much but enough to recognize a probe, which would do for the moment and their spellwork increased in leaps and bounds. Each student's progress was a satisfying memory: How Dean and Lavander had mastered the blasting curse. Cho and Ernie had managed a corporeal Patronus, Siobhan Greene had an incredibly powerful stunning curse at her disposal. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet had turned out to possess something of a talent for healing magic and Angelina had developed shields strong enough not only to block but also repel curses and send them flying back towards the caster.
He was finding it almost impossible to fix a regular night of the week for the different groups, as they had to accommodate Quidditch practices for three separate teams, which were constantly rearranged due to bad weather conditions. However, Harry was not sorry about this; he had a feeling that it was probably better to keep the timing of their meetings unpredictable. If anyone was watching them, it would be hard to make out a pattern.
As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin drew nearer, the Legion continued to meet. Though some were absent due to the demands of daily Quidditch practices by Captain Angelina who put the Gryffindor team through a punishing series of daily practices, regardless of the weather.
Although Harry said nothing, it was clear to his friends that the prospect of the upcoming match, more than he was not in the thick of it was eating away at him. He had confided as much to Fleur. The twins did not need to look that hard to see that Harry really wanted to be playing in the upcoming match. However, after a long discussion, and weighing the pros and cons, they said nothing. They figured that Harry would say something, come the time. After all, Harry did not like other people prying into his affairs, and they were not going to pry.
The Twins were surprised when Harry dragged them aside for a word in private, about Quidditch, "I wanted you to hear it from me, not from someone else and definitely not through the gossip grapevine," he took a breath, "I won't be at the match on Saturday."
Neither of the twins reacted and that surprised Harry. "Honestly Harry," said Fred, "What would have been surprising is if you had been there."
"Don't worry about us, we can look after the team," said George, "and we'll send Malfoy a couple of bludgers with your best wishes for a long stay in the hospital wing." Harry grinned at that.
"We know what Quidditch means to you, so don't worry," said Fred. "Get out of the castle for the weekend, to practice your French, or practice horizontal French."
"Ah… the language of love," said George adopting a saint-like pose with his hands clasped together as if he were praying to the heavens.
For the first time in a very long time, Harry James Potter blushed ever so slightly, but managed to keep his composure, "Jealous much?"
"Totally jealous!" they chorused.
Later that day, he would have a similar conversation with Ginny who proved to be just as understanding about the situation, and Harry left via the Residence Floo to his Scottish Manor that Saturday morning, looking forward to spending time with his godfather and girlfriend.