Well thank you everyone, once again *bows low* Long chapter ahead - I hope you'll read it all and not find it boring lol. Oh and I lied about the next chapter being 'dark', I decided to split this chapter into two, since it'd be too long if I posted it all at one go, so. I hope it brightens your day

Oh and there are some phrases in different languages I marked with an *, so I'll write their translations at the end

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Chapter 16 - Winter at Hogwarts

As of yet, the Ministry has no further leads on the whereabouts of Lucy Burbage, who was reported missing last week, and was last seen doing her shopping in Diagon Alley. If you have any information that may help the Auror Office please send your owl to The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Office, London.

Earlier this morning Aurors were dispatched to an urban Muggle area where rumours of an underground Death Eater hideout have been circling.

A free guide to home safety, protective charms and what to do in case of an emergency can be found on page 13 of this issue.

‘We are currently doing everything in our power to round up as many Death Eaters as we can,’ Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold told reporters. ‘While I encourage cautiousness, I also recommend anyone with the slightest idea or suspicion of a Death Eater to inform the Auror Office without delay.’

Amara turned a page on a November 1981 issue of the Daily Prophet, leaning back on her chair, occasionally peering above the yellowed, crinkled parchment to check that Madame Pince couldn’t see her legs folded on the table.

The face of a wide, baggy-eyed man was scowling up at her as her eyes skimmed the page and fell on a group photo of a girl, two boys and two older people who had to be their parents. The girl was giggling and waving a toy wand at the camera, her mother scolding her and telling her to stand properly; the boys were waving, standing on either side of their father.

The Picket family, it read beneath. Found dead in their home in Gloucester two days ago.

Next to the photo of the scowling man an article started, ‘A shocking report from Ministry officials has revealed Augustus Rookwood to be one of those in league with You-Know-Who and his followers. Overwhelming evidence shows that Rookwood, who until yesterday was an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries, had been passing inside information concerning the Ministry to You-Know-Who himself, and is now serving a lifetime in Azkaban.’

It was a strange feeling, sitting inside the library at half past five in the evening, listening to the faint scratch-scratch of quill on parchment and the December rain pattering on the windows, reading these old newspapers from more than ten years previous, wondering where she’d been when all that had been happening.

‘Vot is that you are reading?’

‘Oh - hi! Er - I was just, you know, doing some research on - on house-elves, actually.’

The low voices were coming from the section in front of Amara, one of them she knew, and both sounding somewhat strained as if their owners were unfamiliar to each other.

‘I - well.' The second voice stammered slightly and laughed. ‘I sort of started thinking about how unfair house-elves are treated and how incredulously little they think for themselves, and, well, I wanted to know if something can be done about the whole thing, so I’m reading up on it.’

There was a short, slightly awkward pause.

‘That is - vary interesting, I think,’ the former voice said, which Amara still couldn’t quite place, even though she knew it had to be someone from Durmstrang.

‘Well,’ the latter voice sighed. ‘I - I have to go, I guess I’ll talk to you later.’ There was the sound of a chair being slid backwards.

‘No - vait, I haff - I haff to tell you something.’

By now Amara had completely forgotten the pile of Daily Prophets standing on the table next to her boots, and was feeling a bit uncomfortable listening in. She quietly took her feet off the table and stacked the pile of newspapers back into their original place, shouldered her bag, and made to the librarian’s desk to borrow Witches and Wizards Who Went Wrong.

‘I vas coming here everyday - but I never - plugged the courage, as you say - to ask you...’

‘Yes?’

Amara thanked Madam Pince and turned around to leave.

‘Vell, vould you like to go to the Yule Ball vith me?’

Amara stopepd in her tracks a few feet away from the door, as she realised who the speaker was, and saw from the corner of her eye a very nervous Hermione fidgeting with her bag; she caught her eye and grinned, and left the library.

*

‘Amara, there’s less than three weeks left.’

Amara sighed into her Potions essay and chewed thoughtfully on the uninked end of her quill. It had become quite an annoying habit of Karina’s to constantly remind her of how much time was left until the Ball; she’d become this sort of alarm clock minus the off and snooze buttons.

‘It’s a bit unfair on us, though,’ Karina went on, staring into the depths of the Gryffindor fireplace. ‘Barely anyone knows us here, and there’s not exactly much variety in our lot,’ she turned towards Amara, who was trying to remember how many ounces of powdered Doxies were needed for a Petrifying Solution. ‘OK, so, there’s Pavlovich, he’s not much of a conversation-starter, he’s horrible to first-years, so that crosses him off,’ she held out one finger. ‘Seven left. Stanislav Poliakoff - I’d really have to be desperate - which reminds me, how did he get through the tryouts? Then there’s your teammate Finn, he’s all right, but he’s already going with Freja-’

‘Karina, calm down. And while you’re at it, do you stir a Petrifying Solution five times clockwise then two-thirds anti-clockwise after adding beetroots, or was it fifteen times anti-clockwise and twice diagonally?’

This seemed to work and completely throw off Karina, who dropped her hand and raised the other to her chin, squinting as the wheels in her brain worked.

‘D’you think Ivan Stenberg would-’

She was cut off as a loud squeak sounded right behind her and Katie Bell sprouted yellow feathers, making Angelina Johnson nearly break her broomstick as she dropped her Broomstick Servicing Kit on it in surprise. Laughing, Alicia turned her wand on Katie and changed her back to normal.

Fred and George had taken to selling all their joke products to the whole Gryffindor Common Room lately, which had caused a chain reaction of people bursting into feather every few minutes.

‘Those two,’ Karina muttered, sliding down her armchair and cursing sullenly in Norwegian. ‘Hey - I have an idea, why don’t we ask them? I mean, we can’t be too choosy now, and Lee’s already going with Katie.’

Amara rolled up her parchment and pulled her feet up on the chair, scratching Fizzy's ears and staring at the portrait at one end of the room, which opened and closed every few seconds to admit students.

‘That would be a bit weird, though, I mean-’

‘Just as friends, of course,’ Karina went on, waving her hand dismissively. ‘At this point-’

‘Well, speak of the devil,’ Amara said, as Fred and George came through the portrait hole, carrying small sacks full of their earnings from selling canary creams, jingling and rattling as they moved. Karina got up boldly, and looked meaningfully at Amara, who grabbed her hand and pulled her down.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Amara hissed, pulling her away as the two neared. ‘Come on, let’s go for a walk, didn’t you want to get a closer look at those worm things in the pumpkin patch?’

Shooting a hasty ‘See you later,’ to the others and dashing out of the common room and down the staircase, Amara made sure that they were far from earshot before turning round on Karina and whispering, ‘They’re already going with Alicia and Angelina.’

‘What? How did you-’ Karina started, then comprehension dawned on her face. ‘Oh... You didn’t...’

‘Well, I can’t help it sometimes,’ Amara said, climbing through a shortcut-portrait. ‘I catch someone’s eye and it happens.’

‘So...’ Karina climbed after her. ‘You can read my mind, right now?’

‘Maybe... Is that a Norwegian nursery rhyme you’re singing?’ Amara tried, helping Karina out, who stumbled as she sat up.

‘Ja, it is,' she exclaimed, raising a hand to her head as if checking that her thoughts weren’t spilling out of her ears. ‘Wow, det er kult.* And a bit creepy too, but I bet it comes in useful in exams.’

‘Actually, they make sure we can’t use it to cheat... some sort of protective charm, I guess.’

They went down a few empty staircases, taking care not to trod on the trick steps the others had warned them about, until a pair of loud, frenzied voices reached their ears on the third floor.

‘Mais cet château est trop grand!’*

‘Et les toilettes - ce sont atroce!’*

Karina glanced sideways at Amara, who raised an eyebrow and kept on walking towards the source of the sound. Three boys from Beauxbatons soon came into view, seemingly lost and very frustrated. One of them noticed the two coming towards them, a dark-haired boy with overly-plucked eyebrows, and beckoned them towards him in a bossy manner.

‘Are you ‘Ogwarts? Non? Well, you zon’t know where we can find ze Professeur Dumbly-dorr's offíce, by any chánce?’

‘Er - first floor, I think.’

‘We’ll show you,’ Karina added earnestly, ignoring Amara’s questioning look. ‘Come on.’

She took up the lead, Amara walking next to her, still confused at why Karina was suddenly so helpful to-

‘Here we are!’

Karina turned around in front of an oak door on the first floor, webs growing on its frame, its golden knocker looking like it hadn’t been touched in a few decades. Amara realised that this was definitely the wrong door, but was saved of having to come up with an explanation as the Headmaster himself appeared just around the corner at that moment, humming what sounded like the school hymn and unwrapping a sherbet lemon as he walked.

‘Oh, good evening,’ he smiled, noticing them. ‘I expect Madame Maxime’s note about the need for an extra two house-elves to help around the carriage has arrived?’ he told the boy holding a scroll of parchment. ‘No matter,’ he said, taking the scroll anyway and perusing it, half-moon spectacles sliding down his crooked nose. ‘I was just down for a stroll in the grounds and she approached me and informed me personally. I do appreciate your help - although,’ he added, looking around, ‘my office is situated on the other side of the tower - though you may find me frequenting this area quite a lot lately. The men’s bathroom here is quite superb and my old age-’

‘Professeur Dumbly-dorr, excusez-moi but we ‘ave to be with ze other studénts and our ‘Eadmistréss will be waiting.’

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Dumbledore said, glancing at his watch. ‘Time does fly. Well, I shall see you in the Great Hall for dinner - off you go.’

They swept off, Amara trying to keep a good distance from the Beauxbatons students and their indefatigable complaints.

‘...Tch, tch, and all zis noise, it gives me ze 'eadaches, and ze food,' one of the boys was saying, sticking up his already upturned nose and shaking his head, as they arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall. The other Beauxbatons boys nodded knowingly.

'Come on,' Amara told Karina, making towards the Gryffindor table, but Karina pulled her back and tightened her grip on Amara’s hand to make sure she couldn’t back out. She had soon delved into a deep conversation with the three boys about the dull texture of the uncushioned benches, and Amara was forced to join in.

'Well, at least we've got partners now,’ Karina said a few minutes later, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table opposite Ginny.

'Who're you going with, then?' Ginny asked, chewing cheerfully on a piece of bread.

'You don't want to know,' said Amara darkly.

'No, really, tell me.'

'These two guys from Beauxbatons.' Karina plopped a crisp into her mouth.

'They'll drive us mad before the dancing starts,' Amara added.

'Why?' giggled Ginny.

'Worse than a bunch of trolls with boogers up their noses.'

'I actually think it's fun, they can make a horror story out of anything. You'd think the seats were eating their backsides the way they were going on about it. So how about you, Ginny? Did you get a boy to ask you?'

Ginny laughed a bit nervously. 'I'm going with Neville. I had to say yes because - you know, third-years can't go if they're not invited.'

'Who's Neville?'

Ginny nodded at a boy a few seats away, who was scratching his head as if he'd forgotten something.

'He looks all right,' Amara said.

'Yes, our little sister's already got herself a boyfriend,' Fred sat down next to Ginny, George on her other side.

'He's not my boyfriend. Anyway, it's none of your business,' Ginny said, rather embarrassed.

''Course it's our business, sis, we want you to focus on your studies,' said George sanctimoniously.

'Say the guys who got three OWLs each,' Ginny pointed out, getting up and moving away to sit somewhere else.

'We all know she's in love with Harry, anyway,' Fred grinned. 'The doodles in her copy of A History of Magic speak for themselves.'

*

Winter drew on as the holidays arrived, and the amount of snow now covering the grounds matched the snow they'd have in the long weeks of autumn at Durmstrang. The ship's portholes had been glazed over with ice and it took five Bluebell Flames to keep their hands and feet warm in their dormitory every night. Karina had almost run out of jars due to this and the fact that she had collected around ten different insects and small animals in the course of two ventures into the Forbidden Forest. As the Durmstrang students had started Christmas break a few days earlier than the other schools and Amara and Karina had a lot of free time on their hands, they were quite happy to watch the Care of Magical Creatures teacher and gamekeeper, Hagrid, hold lessons out in the presently empty and white pumpkin patch, sometimes in the snow-strewn forest, or by the freezing lake. He had a slight obsession with showing his students dangerous or exotic animals, which Karina fully agreed with, as this gave her more creatures to bother and take pictures of with her rattly, rickety camera.

'Say, Karina,' Amara told her one day, as they wrestled a Blast-Ended Skrewt into its crate while Hagrid tried to coax a few second-years out from their hiding place behind the Beauxbatons carriage. 'Fancy working with dragons someday?'

'They'd be easier to handle than these,' she panted, trying to pull her gloved hand free from the Skrewt's suckers. With a great tug, her hand slid out of the dragon-hide glove, leaving the creature to chew on it and then spit it out distastefully.

'Ginny's older brother works with dragons,' Amara went on, snapping the lid shut on the Skrewt. 'His crew brought those four in the first task.'

Karina grinned, inspecting two burnt fingers. 'That was some task... I'm glad I never got chosen now - I mean, who knows what else they'll have to get past?'

'That egg sounded like - something you'd hear near a Dementor...' The image of a cackling, dark-haired woman floated into Amara's head, as they went up to Hagrid and the second-years, signalling that the coast was clear. 'Maybe a bunch of those next.'

'Eg veit ikkje*... Sounded more like a dying Jobberknoll to me...'

Hagrid had now dismissed the second-years for lunch and was making his way back to his hut, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve as he went.

'Have ter thank yeh two kin' ladies fer this,' he told them as they caught up. 'Bi' of a tough job, these Skrewts, aren' they?'

'They're interesting,' Karina said, watching a Skrewt repeatedly bite Amara’s hand in a photo she’d taken a few minutes before.

Hagrid smiled beneath his bushy beard, snowflakes resting in his hair as they fell from the pearlescent sky. 'Well. Yeh two really shoul’ get a bit o' a break now - oh, an’-’ he fished out a flask from his jacket. ‘Take this, helps wi’ the stingin’.’

'Thanks, Hagrid.'

They set off up the sloshy path, their footprints being quickly smoothed over by another inch of fresh snow. The sky was like a white canopy, covering the castle and the grounds in one blanket of wintry peace; it was quiet except for the occasional hoot of an owl passing over their heads and the distant rumble of students roaming the corridors as they left their classes and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. The door of the Beauxbatons carriage had suddenly opened wide, and the Headmistress walked out, followed by her students.

Amara hastily pulled down her beanie and hid her face, pulling Karina up to the castle before either Felix Antoine du Beaufort or Pierre Dubois, the two boys they were taking to ball, could spot them. It had been a nightmare the past few days, with the two boys running into them 'accidentally' at the most unsuspecting moments, and having to put up with them every time it happened. They had even taken to sitting with them at the Gryffindor table at dinners, which resulted in a load of slick remarks from Fred and George, until Felix Antoine du Beaufort swallowed a Nosebleed Nougat that had been innocently lurking next to his cup of sugar-free fruit juice and ended up spending the night in the hospital wing. The two refused to sit with them anymore, not if Fred, George, and Lee were also sitting within a metre of them.

*

The wind and snow joined in curlicues of white and blue as they passed the window next to Amara's usual spot in the library, chilly wind creeping through the cracks in the window pane. The grounds from up here were lit with faint sunlight, here and there a clump of colourful dots indicating students were basking in the first day of the holidays and the prospect of an interesting two weeks at Hogwarts. Amara watched from above as a snowball fight ensued.

This part of the library was quite unpopular, even more so now that any kind of studying had been driven out of everyone's mind, so Amara always had it to herself. With the excuse of needing a quieter place to finish her Transfiguration essay, Amara had snuck out of the rowdy Gryffindor Common Room after twenty minutes of protest from Karina, and now sat at a small oak table, reading a long article from an old August 1981 edition of the Prophet.

Despite the downfall of He Who Must Not Be Named, many Death Eaters remain at large, as death tolls have worryingly increased over the past few days. Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody has informed reporters that the Auror Department will 'catch those blubbering misfits in no time' and that 'they'll be rotting in their cells by the time you've written your darn article.'
Unfortunately the Prophet has yet to receive any news of further arrests. Despite the shocking fate of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, who are currently residing in St. Mungo's, the Auror Department has not made any advance in catching the Death Eaters in question.

Those two names, Frank and Alice Longbottom - she'd come across them in several other books and articles. The four Death Eaters responsible had been arrested a few days after, when Karkaroff - who, she'd found out, had been a Death Eater too in the old days - had spilled the beans about the son of some Head of Department and the boy, along with three Lestranges, had been sentenced to Azkaban.

A picture of one of the convicted, Bellatrix Lestrange, was plastered at the bottom of the page of the article. Below it, in bold, it read, 'Have you seen this woman?'

Amara stared at the wide-eyed woman, brandishing her wand arrogantly, her hair thrown back carelessly... Oh, she’d seen her, sure, and it was obvious this was the same woman...she couldn’t fully accept it though, how...?

'Well, fancy seeing you here.'

Amara deftly threw the paper back onto a pile and pulled her Transfiguration essay towards her, seeing a tuft of red hair hovering next to the elf section out of the corner of her eyes.

'Fancy seeing you,' she told George, pretending to be lost in concentration.

George pulled a chair towards him, making sure it scraped loudly against the floor, and sat down with a gigantic sigh. Amara tried to ignore this, rereading the introduction in her essay, not taking in a word.

'You know, I think you're overworking yourself,' George said, grabbing a book and opening it at a random page. 'We've got literally two weeks of nothing and you're worrying over some essay?'

'I want to get rid of it before term starts,' Amara said, eyeing the book George was leafing through good-naturedly. She felt her face redden and she turned back to the essay, scrawling a few unintelligible words just to be doing something.

'So - books about dark wizards. Future reference for when you become the darkest witch on the planet, I'm guessing?'

Amara snorted. 'I just happened to sit here.'

'As all the other tables are jam-packed, of course.'

'Are you trying to make a point, George?'

He closed the book and put it back on its shelf. 'Not really...'

A few minutes passed in silence, with George peeking every few seconds at Amara's essay and looking boredly around at the library, and Amara hiding her face with her hair, head resting on her hand as she tried to make sense of the sudden clutter in her mind; what was that spell that Transfigured things into wood again?

'Actually, I was wondering how you ended up with that Feellegs Antoine guy.'

Amara looked up, frowning a little in thought. George was grinning, as though he found her situation rather funny, so she stared at the top of his head for a moment, not wanting to know what he was thinking.

'Doesn't matter,’ she muttered finally, wishing he’d drop the subject.

‘You could’ve done better, though,’ he went on, sounding somewhere between amused and curious. ‘Some guy like Chase Ashwood maybe? Or a certain Cedric...’

Amara chortled in a sarcastic sort of way. ‘Yeah, well, the guy I would have - er,' she cleared her throat. 'I bet dinner will be ready soon, so we should go,’ she finished, painfully aware that it was still four in the afternoon.

She hastily got up and shoved her stuff into her bag, feeling her face burn white-hot and turning away.

‘Oh-ho, nice try,’ George said, sitting up too. ‘Who is it then, eh? This special guy?’

‘Shut up...’

Amara shouldered her bag and swept off, ignoring Madam Pince’s remark about her overdue book, and strided out of the library with George close behind, who pestered her with the same question, Amara refusing to answer, until they had arrived back in the Gryffindor common room.

There Karina thankfully yanked her away and up the girls’ dormitories, where most everyone was trying on their dress robes, admiring each others’, and chattering excitedly about how they couldn’t wait for the Ball tomorrow.

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*Translations:

'det er kult' - that's cool
'Mais cet château est trop grand!' - This castle's way too big!
‘Et les toilettes? Ce sont atroce!' - And the toilets? Horrible!
'Eg veit ikkje' - I dunno

Yep, so I hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think, and if you have any questions, ask away