not only were they studying as though they had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. elara had to really try to keep up with what professor mcgonagall said to them these days; even hermione had had to ask her to repeat instructions once or twice. incredibly, and to hermione's increasing resentment, harry's best subject had suddenly become potions, thanks to the half-blood prince.

nonverbal spells were now expected, not only in defense against the dark arts, but in charms and transfiguration too. elara frequently looked over at her classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face and straining as though they had overdosed on u-no-poo; but she knew that they were really struggling to make spells work without saying incantations aloud. it was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; they were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in herbology, but at least they were still allowed to swear loudly if the venomous tentacula seized them unexpectedly from behind. elara took advantage of this quite often.

one result of their enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing nonverbal spells was that elara, harry, ron, and hermione had so far been unable to find time to go and visit hagrid. he had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when they had passed him in the corridors or out in the grounds, he had mysteriously failed to notice them or hear their greetings.

"we've got to go and explain," said hermione, looking up at hagrid's huge empty chair at the staff table the following saturday at breakfast.

"we've got quidditch tryouts this morning!" said ron. "and we're supposed to be practicing that aguamenti charm from flitwick! anyway, explain what? how are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"

"damn, ron," said elara after downing her third cup of coffee, "that's heartless."

"it's true," he said, "besides, i don't think drinking three cups of coffee in half an hour is healthy."

"i got no sleep last night thanks to anya," said elara begrudgingly, as she and her mentor had begun practicing through her dreams. last night, she made elara practice weaponizing her fire. as elara discovered, that takes a ton of energy.

"how does that work again?"

"technically i am asleep, but when i wake up, it feels as though i've had run a marathon."

"anyways," said hermione, "we didn't hate his subject!"

"speak for yourself, i haven't forgotten the skrewts," said ron darkly. "and i'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. you didn't hear him going on about his gormless brother — we'd have been teaching grawp how to tie his shoelaces if we'd stayed."

"i hate not talking to hagrid," said hermione, looking upset.

"we'll go down after quidditch," harry assured her. "but trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied. i dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."

"oh, come on, harry," said hermione, suddenly impatient. "it's not quidditch that's popular, it's you and lara! word got around that lara's manager. she's always been gorgeous and interesting, but it's tripled. also, you've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."

ron had gagged on a large piece of kipper. hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to harry.

"everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? the whole wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. they know you were in the graveyard lara, and that you fought off death eaters and the fake moody. and now they're calling you 'the chosen one' and 'the savior' — well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"

elara thought this was weird.

"why me, though?" said elara.

"oh come on," said ginny, who had plopped herself down next to ron, "you can't be that daft, lara. you're gorgeous as hell, you're mysterious, for awhile you seemed unattainable and you know how much boys love the chase, you're a seer and a metamorphagus, you're destined to be a savior, you're badass, you're independent, the list goes on."

"and you both have been through all that persecution from the ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar," piped up hermione, "you can still see the marks on the back of your hands where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you two stuck to your story anyway. . . ."

"you can still see where those brains got hold of me in the ministry, look," said ron, shaking back his sleeves.

"and it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either, harry," hermione finished, ignoring ron.

"i'm tall," said ron inconsequentially.

"do people realize we're dating though?" said elara.

"people have always found you two attractive," said ginny, "its just multiplied. you're famous believe it or not, and with fame comes attention, and with attention comes attention seekers."

harry and elara looked at each other.

the post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with droplets of water. most people were receiving more post than usual; anxious parents were keen to hear from their children and to reassure them, in turn, that all was well at home. elara had received plenty of mail since the start of term; all from nymphie, andromeda, and ted. hedwig was circling amongst all the brown and gray owls. she landed in front of harry carrying a large, square package. a moment later, an identical package landed in front of ron, crushing beneath it his minuscule and exhausted owl, pigwidgeon.

"ha!" said harry, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a new copy of advanced potion-making, fresh from flourish and blotts.

"oh good," said hermione, delighted. "now you can give that graffitied copy back."

"are you mad?" said harry. "i'm keeping it! look, i've thought it out —"

he pulled the old copy of advanced potion-making out of his bag and tapped the cover with his wand, muttering, "diffindo!" the cover fell off. he did the same thing with the brand-new book (hermione looked scandalized). he then swapped the covers, tapped each, and said, "reparo!"

there sat the prince's copy, disguised as a new book, and there sat the fresh copy from flourish and blotts, looking thoroughly secondhand.

"i'll give slughorn back the new one, he can't complain, it cost nine galleons."

hermione pressed her lips together, looking angry and disapproving, but was distracted by a third owl landing in front of her carrying that day's copy of the daily prophet. she unfolded it hastily and scanned the front page.

"anyone we know dead?" asked ron in a determinedly casual voice; he posed the same question every time hermione opened her paper.

"no, but there have been more dementor attacks," said hermione. "and an arrest."

"excellent, who?" said elara, praying it was bellatrix.

"stan shunpike," said hermione.

"what?" said elara, startled.

"'stanley shunpike, conductor on the popular wizarding conveyance the knight bus, has been arrested on suspicion of death eater activity. mr. shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his clapham home . . .'"

"stan shunpike, a death eater?" said harry, "no way!"

"he might have been put under the imperius curse," said ron reasonably. "you never can tell."

"it doesn't look like it," said hermione, who was still reading. "it says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the death eaters' secret plans in a pub." she looked up with a troubled expression on her face. "if he was under the imperius curse, he'd hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?"

"it sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did," said ron. "isn't he the one who claimed he was going to become minister of magic when he was trying to chat up those veela?"

"i don't remember anything from that night, to be honest," said elara, frowning as she racked her brain for anything other than a flash of fear that happened then.

"yeah, that's him," said harry. "i dunno what they're playing at, taking stan seriously."

"they probably want to look as though they're doing something," said elara, "people are terrified — you know the patil twins' parents want them to go home? and eloise midgen has already been withdrawn. her father picked her up last night."

"what!" said ron, goggling at elara. "but hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! we've got aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we've got dumbledore!"

"i don't think we've got him all the time," said hermione very quietly, glancing toward the staff table over the top of the prophet. "haven't you noticed? his seat's been empty as often as hagrid's this past week."

elara, harry, and ron looked up at the staff table. the headmaster's chair was indeed empty. now elara came to think of it, she had not seen dumbledore since their private lesson a week ago.

"i think he's left the school to do something with the order," said hermione in a low voice. "i mean . . . it's all looking serious, isn't it?

elara, harry, and ron did not answer, but elara knew that they were all thinking the same thing. there had been a horrible incident the day before, when hannah abbott had been taken out of herbology to be told her mother had been found dead. they had not seen hannah since.

when they left the gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the quidditch pitch, they passed lavender brown and parvati patil. elara was unsurprised to see that the two best friends were whispering together, looking distressed. what did surprise her was that when ron drew level with them, parvati suddenly nudged lavender, who looked around and gave ron a wide smile. ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. his walk instantly became something more like a strut. elara and harry resisted the temptation to laugh; hermione, however, looked cold and distant all the way down to the stadium through the cool, misty drizzle, and departed to find a place in the stands without wishing ron good luck.

as elara had expected, the trials took most of the morning. half of gryffindor house seemed to have turned up, from first years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms, to seventh years who towered over the rest, looking coolly intimidating. the latter included a large, wiry-haired boy elara recognized immediately from the hogwarts express.

"we met on the train, in old sluggy's compartment," he said confidently, stepping out of the crowd to shake harry's hand and then moved to shake elara's. "cormac mclaggen, keeper."

"you didn't try out last year, did you?" asked harry.

"i was in the hospital wing when they held the trials," said mclaggen, with something of a swagger. "ate a pound of doxy eggs for a bet."

"right," said elara. "well . . . wait over there . . ."

she pointed over to the edge of the pitch, close to where hermione was sitting. she thought she saw a flicker of annoyance pass over mclaggen's face and wondered whether mclaggen expected preferential treatment because they were all "old sluggy's" favorites.

harry had decided to start with a basic test, asking all applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten and fly once around the pitch. this was a good decision: the first ten was made up of first years and it could not have been plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. only one boy managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and he was so surprised he promptly crashed into one of the goal posts.

the second group was comprised of ten of the silliest girls elara had ever encountered, who, when she blew her whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching one another. romilda vane was amongst them. when elara told them to leave the pitch, they did so quite cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else.

being a manager turned out to be quite a job.

the third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. the fifth group were hufflepuffs.

"if there's anyone else here who's not from gryffindor," yelled elara, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, "leave now!"

there was a pause, then a couple of little ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.

"goddamn," swore elara loudly.

halfway through trials, one boy crashed into a goalpost (a different boy this time) and fell to the ground. elara rushed over to help him as any responsible person would do, but it seemed to the rest of the boys who were only there for elara that if they were to injure themselves, they would get special attention. this put harry to his wits end.

"the next person to injure themselves intentionally gets to bleed out on the ground!" roared harry.

a lot of people left.

after two hours, many complaints, and several tantrums, one involving a crashed comet two sixty and several broken teeth, harry had found three chasers: katie bell, returned to the team after an excellent trial; a new find called demelza robins, who was particularly good at dodging bludgers; and ginny weasley, who had out flown all the competition and scored seventeen goals to boot. harry and elara had also shouted themselves hoarse at the many complainers and was now enduring a similar battle with the rejected beaters.

"that's my final decision and if you don't get out of the way for the keepers i'll hex you," he bellowed.

"don't forget, my mum is bellatrix bloody lestrange and i can and will harm you," threatened elara, "also," she added, throwing a dramatic point at ginny, "she is crazy, and she will come after you."

ginny lazily raised a hand. all this added with the threat of ginny 'bat-bogey' weasley was enough for the complainers to leave.

neither of the chosen beaters had the old brilliance of fred and george, but elara (who knew nothing of quidditch), thought they're quite good. jimmy peakes, a short but broad-chested third-year boy who had managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on the back of harry's head with a ferociously hit bludger, and ritchie coote, who looked weedy but aimed well. they now joined katie, demelza, and ginny in the stands to watch the selection of their last team member.

ginny had been appointed, by an exhausted elara, the job to threaten everyone who was being rude and disrespectful to the trials happening.

harry had deliberately left the trial of the keepers until last, since he and elara were hoping for an emptier stadium and less pressure on all concerned. unfortunately, however, all the rejected players and a number of people who had come down to watch after a lengthy breakfast had joined the crowd by now, so that it was larger than ever. as each keeper flew up to the goal hoops, the crowd roared and jeered in equal measure. elara glanced over at ron, who had always had a problem with nerves; elara had hoped that winning their final match last term might have cured it, but apparently not: ron was a delicate shade of green.

none of the first five applicants saved more than two goals apiece. to elara's great disappointment, cormac mclaggen saved four penalties out of five. on the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed and booed and mclaggen returned to the ground grinding his teeth. elara's head whipped over to hermione, who was looking intently at the sky.

ron looked ready to pass out as he mounted his cleansweep eleven. "good luck!" cried a voice from the stands. elara looked around, expecting to see hermione, but it was lavender brown.

ron saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a row. delighted, and resisting joining in the cheers of the crowd with difficulty, elara turned around to find mclaggen's red face inches from her own. she held her ground.

"his sister didn't really try," said mclaggen menacingly, "she gave him an easy save."

"forgive me if i'm wrong," said elara coldly. "but are you really trying to intimidate me into giving you another try?"

elara placed a finger on his chest and pushed him away.

"give me another go."

"no," said elara. "you've had your go. you saved four. ron saved five. ron's keeper, he won it fair and square. i know hexes that would make your skin crawl, mclaggen. get out of my goddamn way."

"is there a problem here?" said harry, who had just dismounted his broom, "if you have something to say, mclaggen, i'm the team captain."

"your girlfriend isn't being civil," spat mclaggen, who was still incredibly red.

"i am being perfectly fucking civil."

"no you're not," cried mclaggen, "i've seen how you act, tonks, you think you're the shit but in reality you're just a — "

"you sure you want to finish that sentence?" she said slowly.

she thought for a moment that mclaggen might punch someone, but he contented himself with an ugly grimace and stormed away, growling what sounded like threats to thin air.

"i want to set something on fire," said elara angrily, curling and uncurling her fists.

"don't set something on fire," said harry exhaustedly.

they turned around to find the new team beaming at them.

"well done," harry croaked. "you flew really well —"

"you did brilliantly, ron!"