This reminded him of his dreaded career advice session, and he had to wonder what his own children had told Hermione that they wanted to be as adults. Ivy had already made it clear that she wanted to work in Experimental Charms, and he knew Haley talked about wanting to be an actress”but this was just a childish dream, and surely she knew that was impractical. Maybe she’d told Hermione that she wanted to own her own shop. Harry could definitely see her doing that.
As for Jordan… Jordan was hard to figure out, as always. One possibility Harry could definitely rule out was an Auror”Jordan would probably rather eat a bowl full of goat bile than pursue a career as an Auror. So what did he want to be? A professor was a probable choice, or someone who wrote textbooks. But the first thing he could see his son wanting to be was the Minister of Magic.
Speaking of the Minister of Magic, Harry had discovered some extremely interesting news about Tancred Apple, and he wanted to share it with Ron the next time he saw him. So when Ron strode by his office, humming something that sounded suspiciously like a song by Hilary Duff, Harry pulled him aside and said, “Ron”I was in Muggle London yesterday, and I found out something weird. Apple’s running for Muggle Prime Minister as well as Minister of Magic.”
Ron shrugged. “That really is strange, but what does it prove, other than the fact that Apple wants, well, two bites of the apple at being in charge?”
“Well,” Harry said slowly, “First of all, that was really not funny. Second of all, he’s the Head of the Department of Muggle Relations. So if he’s elected for both positions, maybe he can make sure something like Malfoy’s escape and the death of all of those Muggles doesn’t happen again. He can watch out for the effect of magic on the Muggles… I don’t know, he might not be as much of an empty-headed pretty-boy as we thought before. I just never really liked him.”
Ron stroked his chin, which looked a tad odd, as it was clean-shaven. “Yeah, you could be right. Still, what would Percy do for a job if Apple became Minister? He’s only forty-four, he’s not ready to retire yet.”
Harry straightened his glasses. “You know, your wife””
“Oh, no, when Hermione annoys you, you always call her ‘Ron’s wife’ instead of just saying her name. What did she do now?” interrupted Ron.
Harry smiled. “She said she thought I was jealous of Apple.”
“Where did she get that idea?” laughed Ron. “All right, maybe I’m a little jealous because Hermione seems to think he’s God’s gift to mankind or something,” admitted Ron. “As if I’m not enough for her.”
Harry smirked to himself”apparently, almost twenty years of marriage and a teenaged daughter between them wasn’t enough to make Ron secure that Hermione really did care for him. “Well, elections are in a few days,” Harry said. “The Muggle ones are the same day as ours, so this should be interesting.”
Ron reclined in his chair. “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.
Jordan had received a new email from Giorgi, and as far as he could tell, she hadn’t changed a bit after her grounding session. Unfortunately, though, neither had her punctuation.
To: sgtjpepper@magicworks.co.uk
From: rainbowbrite04@interweb.co.uk
Subj: Play
Message:
Hi, Name Twin! I WISH YOU WENT TO MY SCHOOL!!!!! Do you want to know why?? It’s because we’re putting on a musical (It’s “The Phantom of the Opera,”) and I’m the costume designer, because I can’t sing to save my life!!! Like, if some gangster or something on the street came up to me and went, “You can sing on-key or you can die,” then I’d die.
BUT ANNNNYWAYY, that’s totally not the point! So, anyway, the guys in the play CAN’T SING!!! I swear, they’re like worse than me, and that’s saying A LOT. Well, I know you can sing, so if you weren’t at your stupid POSH LITTLE PRIVATE SCHOOL UP IN SCOTLAND, then we would at least have someone DECENT to play the Phantom!!!! The bloke who plays him now sings like a dying warthog, and Raoul the viscount is even worse!
My friend Lyndsay plays Christine (The main character, and Raoul and the Phantom are both in luuuurve with her), and my friend Julie plays Christine’s friend Meg, but they’re thinking of dropping out because they’re so embarrassed about being in a play where the boys stink so much.
SOOOO, what’s going on in your little *SCOTTISH* neck of the woods?? Write back ASAP!!!!
Cheers,
GIORGI!
Jordan replied:
To: rainbowbrite04@interweb.co.uk
From: sgtjpepper@magicworks.co.uk
Subj: Re: Play
Message:
Hello, Giorgi. I’m sorry to hear that your play isn’t going well. I actually do quite like “The Phantom of the Opera,” (don’t tell Haley; I have to pretend I hate everything to do with musical theatre) and I would really enjoy playing the Phantom.
You have far too many friends; I can’t keep them all straight! You’re lucky I don’t have that problem. So, anyway, you wanted to know what was happening in my Scottish neck of the woods? Well, studying is happening. I have massive exams coming up in June, and I’ve been working like mad.
Also, Emma has the third part of her tournament soon, too, so she’s even busier than the rest of us. The third challenge is supposed to be more a physical task, so I have confidence in her. I am, after all, her coach (although she’s temporarily off of the football team because of the tournament”that’s called irony).
In other news, everyone I know is slowly but steadily completely losing their marbles. I’ve actually seen Haley doing homework from time to time”I swear, she’s always writing something, which is completely unlike her” and Emma is being fairly civil to me. But then, she knows she can’t mouth off at me because I’m training her for the third task and I’m the best athlete in the school. And this is not bragging, because it’s a simple fact.
And I still can’t get used to the idea of Ivy and Ted holding hands and the rest of the boyfriend/girlfriend package. When did my friends get hormones? And where was I the day they were passed out?
Bewildered,
Jordan.”
As he pressed send, the female half of the Potter twins was writing to Lee, who had just finished helping her with a Charms essay.
“Ivy just came in,” she wrote.
“That’s absolutely fascinating,” replied Lee.
Haley rolled her eyes at her journal’s sarcasm. “No, but seriously, Ivy’s been really… elusive all year!” Elusive was a word she had learned from Lee when they had written a Defence Against the Dark Arts paper, and she loved it. She wondered if her vocabulary would match Jordan’s if she kept writing in Lee.
“Like, first, she was so busy doing all of her studying and stuff, and then she just randomly stopped around Christmas. And then, on Christmas Eve, I woke up in the middle of the night, and she wasn’t there. I didn’t really think much of it afterward because I found out she and Ted were kissing in the broom cupboard, but then I realized that I still didn’t know why she’d gotten out of bed in the first place.
And it wasn’t the only time she did it, either. I think I’ve noticed her not being in bed something like four times, and she never, ever says anything about it in the morning. And I really doubt Ivy and her beau are snogging in the cupboard again, because I’m pretty sure that whole thing was a total accident in the first place. But a good accident. Wow, I just wrote more than I’ve ever written all at one time, not counting stuff for school.”
Haley knew Lee would have smiled if the journal had lips. “You know, I have the perfect word to describe you. It’s ‘loquacious.’ It means that you don’t stop talking.”
“Loquacious…” Haley said aloud. It had a ring to it. It sounded weird, though”like the name of someone from a bizarre girl group where everyone had names like Shontayne and Florescia and Chiffonella. Maybe the next time Professor Zabini got mad at her for talking in class, she could say, “Professor, I’m not being disruptive; I’m just naturally loquacious.”
“But really,” she wrote, “what do you think is up with Ivy?”
“She’s normally a pretty good kid, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, freakishly.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry. She knows what she’s doing. Although… if she’s caught out of bed, she could really get in trouble”trust me, I’ve been there. Now, I’m not really telling you to encourage rule-breaking, but friends don’t let friends get in trouble, so maybe you should conveniently leave out that Invisibility Cloak that you told me about. And if it’s in a slightly different position in the morning, pretend you didn’t notice. She’ll tell you when she feels like it.”
Haley decided then and there that Lee had officially surpassed the legal limit of awesomeness.
Not counting the broken ones, there was not a single Wizarding Wireless in Britain that wasn’t turned on the day of the election for the new Minister of Magic. But it wasn’t because they were interested in listening to the stream of Celestina Warbeck songs that was playing”it was because any minute, the new Minister of Magic would be announced. Ron had been drinking so much coffee that his eyes were vibrating, and Harry had basically given up on the prospect of doing any of his dull desk work”he knew he’d never be able to concentrate on it.
Ron swore. “That’s the third time they’ve played ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love!’” he exclaimed furiously, slamming his fist down on the table for dramatic effect. “I know that song’s going to be in my head for the rest of the week, and before I know it, I’ll be randomly singing it everywhere I go.”
Suddenly, the song was cut off in mid-verse.
“Thank heavens!” Ron said loudly, throwing up his hands.
“The votes have been counted!” boomed the voice of a cheery radio personality. “And the new Minister of Magic is… TANCRED LLEWELLYN APPLE!”
“I’m so excited to be voted the Minister of Magic,” came Apple’s voice, its soft Irish lilt more apparent than ever over the radio. “I have so many plans for the wizarding world, and I really can’t wait to implement them! And another reason why I’m so pleased to have been chosen is that choosing me to be Minister of Magic proves that wizarding Britain is a more tolerant nation. I’m the first Muggle-born Minister of Magic.”
Harry hadn’t known that Apple was Muggle-born. He supposed it made sense, as Apple was very keen on Muggle Rights.
“I don’t want to bore you with a long, tedious speech, so all I’m going to say is, you’re going to see some Apple power in action quite soon! So have a fantastic day, God bless you all, and thank you so much again for choosing me! Good afternoon.”
Ron swore again.
“And Hermione wonders where Emma picks up her unladylike language habits,” Harry said. He didn’t know what he thought about Tancred Apple as Minister of Magic. He really didn’t know.
Meanwhile, Jordan neither knew nor cared who the Minister of Magic was, as he had rather pressing matters on his mind. He was giving a pep talk to his Quidditch team before their final game of the year, the game against Slytherin that would determine whether or not they won the House Cup.
“I’ve been working you to death all year long, and I want to see it pay off!” he shouted. “I’m supposing that you all loathe me for being so hard on you, and I want that hatred to be worth it when I’m holding the Quidditch Cup! Because I really believe in you as a team, and you’re certainly the best team that I’ve ever seen. And would you like to hear something else? At the beginning of the year, I was upset when I found I was the Quidditch captain. I’d wanted to be a prefect for as long as I could remember. But I’m incredibly glad to be your captain, and it’s been a fantastic Quidditch season. I can’t even find words to describe it”and I know a lot of words. So before I say more of them, get out onto the field and win that cup!”
The team cheered. “Aye-aye, Cap’n!” yelled Tyrone, pounding Jordan’s back.
“We won’t let you down!” added Ophelia Wood, looking rather misty-eyed.
Jordan pulled on his gloves, shouldered his broom jauntily, and headed out of the dressing room and onto the field, his team in tow. But his broomstick wasn’t the only weight he felt on his shoulders. He felt the weight, the responsibility of the team. And he was ready to show the school what they had.
“Ladies, gentlemen, and Slytherins!” came a high, clear voice from the commentators’ box. “Just kidding, you know I had to make my biased joke of the day. No more after this, I promise. Anyway, this is the final match of the Hogwarts Quidditch cup, between the Gryffindor Germs and the Slytherin Slimeballs. See, equal-opportunity insults there! Anyway, I’m your commentator, the lovely, loquacious Haley Potter, and I’m the twin sister of the snotty jerk down there captaining the Gryffindor team.”
Jordan did not particularly appreciate that statement for some reason.
“Well, what are we waiting for? MOUNT YOUR BROOMS!” yelled Haley. “And let the match… BEGIN!”
And begin it did.
“Watch them go, two seconds into the game and the Quaffle’s been passed three times! That’s crazy! Both teams are looking pretty good,” announced Haley. “And now… WHAT THE?!” Her jaw dropped to her chest and she screamed something that sounded very much like, “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” She couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Merlin’s beard! Merlin’s toenail clippings! Merlin’s… er…excess earwax!” she screamed in delight. “This has never, ever, ever happened before! Jordan Potter, my baby brother”although we’re twins and he’s taller, I’m three point three minutes older”has caught the Snitch! It’s, like, ten seconds into the game! That’s just… insanely awesome!” She was getting teary-eyed, and her increasingly incoherent shrieks were still amplified so that the entire stadium could hear. “JORDAN!” she wailed, “you’re the best brother ever, and I love you! I love you and your amazing Quidditch skills!”
The Gryffindors and most of the school roared with cheers and applause. Jordan, still hovering in the air with his fist (containing the Snitch) raised jubilantly over his head, grinned from ear to ear. He was absolutely beaming, and he looked happier than he probably ever had before. Even his own father hadn’t won a game in ten seconds.
But that particular thought, or, indeed, any thought comparing himself to his father or anyone else, didn’t even begin to penetrate his mind. Because when he was flying, he didn’t feel like he had to be anyone. He just felt happy, free, even normal”and he felt the same rush of joy in the pit of his stomach that he had felt when he’d taken a risk and performed underage magic early in the year. He may have loved books and computers, but this, flying, gave him a feeling of confidence and joy that nothing else even came close to replicating.
The crowds converged upon Jordan, lifting him onto their shoulders and chanting, “Potter! Potter! Potter!” He saw his friends’ glowing faces and the dejected, disgusted Slytherins, and he, perfectionist that he was, felt undisturbed, untouched by trouble or worries. Who would ever want to be a Prefect when they could have this? he wondered.
Emma was positively green, which rather clashed with her red clothing. She wasn’t green with envy or makeup, but rather with the sort of queasiness that came only with nerves.
It was three days after Jordan had single-handedly won the Quidditch Cup (literally single-handedly, as he had caught the Snitch with one hand), and now it was the day of the third and final Triwizard Task. She’d had the local Quidditch hero give her a crash course (luckily, not literally) in flying tricks, since she hadn’t been on a broom in awhile, and she felt prepared for the task”it sounded like it was right up her figurative alley.
She would have to fly through an obstacle course of hoops, each of which had been made rather more dangerous by some sort of spell or hex, which she would have to break by way of counterjinxing before flying through. Still, though, she’d felt prepared for the first two tasks, and she’d failed miserably both times. She wanted to win.
She was currently taking a little stroll through the grounds to clear her head before the third task, and her feet had carried her across the grounds and back twice already. She was very nervous, more so than she’d let on in front of her friends and in front of Charybdis Nott, who had tried to anger her earlier that morning. Emma had been too nervous, in fact, to have any breakfast except for some pumpkin juice, but now her rumbling stomach made her wish that she’d had more.
She heard voices nearby”voices that were rather familiar, but not the voices of anyone to whom she regularly spoke.
“Did you do the math?” asked a male voice. “We can’t risk making any mistakes today.”
“Don’t worry, I have it covered,” replied a female voice. “We’ve taken care of the brooms already, so our favourite for the task is definitely going to win.”
“Good,” the man said appreciatively. “Emma Weasley is good at flying from what I’ve heard, and she’d got some brains inside that pretty head of hers. She needs a perfect score, and the other two need thirty-one points for them to tie evenly.”
Emma gasped. These people had rigged the tournament! She peeked out from behind a tree and saw Cadmus Skitesby and Evadne Schiffington. What was going on?
“Hopefully, we’ll do as well as we did for the first two tasks,” sighed Schiffington, straightening her unfashionable Muggle skirt. “That new portrait that you hung up and gave the wrong directions in the second task”that was pure inspiration.”
“And it was clever how you bewitched the balls of light to lead the other two champions the wrong way in the first task,” Skitesby added charitably.
Emma was frozen. It was like in the movies, where the villains took the opportunity to tell the hero everything evil that they’d done and how they’d done it. She had no idea what to do. She knew that what Skitesby and Schiffington were doing was completely unethical, and she had to tell someone… but if she did, she’d have no chance of even tying for the Cup. And she’d be a loser.
She’d never lost anything in her life”not a Quidditch match, not an argument, not a competition”and she was used to getting what she wanted. Why did this have to happen? She was getting frazzled and frightened, knowing that it was her responsibility to take action but that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to.
She stepped out from behind the tree and put on a sweet, innocent face that she’d probably never worn in her entire life. “Oh, hi!” she said in a breathy, girly voice, feigning surprise. “Um, do you, like, know where the third task is? ‘Cos I don’t know if it’s, like, on the Quidditch Pitch or by the lake or what.”
“It’s on the Quidditch Pitch, dear,” said Evadne. “Are you ready for the task?”
“Yes, I am,” said Emma, and she meant it.
In a stadium packed with hundreds of people, as McGonagall finished explaining the directions of the task and gave the signal for the three champions to begin their challenge, Emma got to her feet and yelled, “WAAAIT!” at the top of her lungs.
Hundreds of heads turned to stare at her.
“The Triwizard Tournament is rigged!” she shouted theatrically.
There was an equally theatrical collective gasp, followed by a deafening silence, then murmurs.
“Miss Weasley!” spluttered McGonagall, regaining her composure. “I understand that you’re upset about being in third place, and I know you want to win, but this is going a bit too far.”
“Headmistress, I am personally offended that you think I care that much about winning,” Emma said in a strong, carrying voice. She tried to keep calm instead of exploding”getting mad wouldn’t make her any more persuasive.
“The tournament’s rigged. Skitesby and Schiffington are tampering with Vladislav and Marina’s brooms so that they won’t be able to fly as well, and they’re making sure that I get a perfect score and the other two get thirty-one points so that we all tie. And it’s not fair for Vladislav and Marina, and it isn’t fair for me, either, because I’d never know if I won ‘cos I really did a good job or because a couple of scumbags cheated for me. And I really, really HATE cheaters, so I don’t want to be one.”
There was another long silence, and everyone looked at Skitesby and Schiffington, who were both very white and stuttering incoherently.
McGonagall cleared her throat. “The Third Task is indefinitely postponed,” she said uncomfortably. “You may remain where you are, and I shall give you instructions as to what you should do when I return.”
And with that, the judges filed out of the stadium into the castle for what was sure to be a very awkward conversation for Skitesby and Schiffington. In the stands, Tancred Apple, new Minister of Magic, got to his Converse-clad feet and followed them inside, signing a few autographs on the way.
For an excruciatingly long forty-five minutes, Emma sat stiffly in a chair on the pitch, trying not to look at Marina, who was seated next to her. She wanted desperately to talk to her friends in the stands, but she couldn’t”McGonagall had instructed that they stay put. So for that incredibly agonizing period of twenty-five minutes, she watched and waited, trying to think of her favourite songs to pass the time away but failing at doing so.
She snuck a glance into the stands and saw Ivy resting her head on Ted’s shoulder (which she couldn’t imagine being very pleasant, as Ted’s shoulders were bony, but that was hardly the point.) She wished she had such a readily available source of comfort.
In fact, she was almost on the verge of trying to recall the composition of a calming draught when McGonagall, Mr. Potter, Poliokoff, and Madame Maxime re-entered the arena. Apparently, Skitesby and Schiffington were being questioned by Apple, as they were Ministry employees, and he was, after all, the Minister of Magic.
McGonagall re-mounted the podium and announced, “I’m afraid I must give you some very grave news.” She paused, her lips tight. “Miss Weasley was correct. Cadmus Skitesby and Evadne Schiffington, for unknown reasons, did indeed rig the Triwizard Tournament so that the three champions would tie. This means that the first two tasks were unfair as well, and it would therefore be foolish to count those scores and proceed with the third task. Because of this, the Triwizard Tournament is canceled. The three champions will each receive a thousand-galleon prize, and I will call them each up individually.”
She took a bag of gold out from behind the podium. “To Marina Ghislaine Delacour Weasley of Beauxbatons, for her strength, determined spirit, and poise,” she announced. Marina got to her feet, her pale red-gold hair streaming out behind her and her extremely baggy khaki cargo trousers billowing in the breeze. She strode up to the podium, smiling out at the cheering crowd as she claimed her prize.
“To Vladislav Poliakoff of Durmstrang for his outstanding knowledge, use of logic, and focus,” McGonagall spoke as she displayed another bag of money. Vladislav received it with a serious nod, his face blank and his posture perfect.
McGonagall picked up a third bag. “And to Emma Elizabeth Weasley of Hogwarts, for her tireless perseverance and patience toward her tasks, her unflappable bravery, and her exhaustive preparation and study.”
Emma stood and walked to the podium. This was what she had dreamed of before entering the tournament, receiving her thousand-galleon prize in front of the entire school as they cheered her on, but it was nowhere near as exciting as she’d imagined. She didn’t feel like she’d earned her prize. ‘Tireless perseverance and patience toward her tasks, her unflappable bravery, and her exhaustive preparation and study’ were not enough to merit receiving a huge bag of money.
Thanks to Skitesby and Schiffington, she’d never know who would have really won the tournament. Cheating, she thought, was probably the second-most disgusting thing she could imagine. (It was second because she had once seen Ted consume a gigantic bowl of cottage cheese mixed with catsup and vegetables that still made her physically ill every time she thought about it.)
She was about to walk back to her chair and sit down when McGonagall continued, “And for her honesty in informing us about what she overheard, the panel of judges had decided to give Emma the Triwizard Cup.” With that, she handed the cup to Emma, a rare smile flitting across her lips.
The trophy was very heavy and beautifully ornate, and she couldn’t imagine touching, let along owning, anything so fancy-looking. Dreamlike, she lifted up the trophy and the audience erupted into cheers and applause. Even Tyrone”to whom Emma was not speaking and vice-versa”wolf-whistled loudly through his teeth. Emma knew that doing the right thing had made her the real champion”and it was worth more than the thousand galleons and the expensive trophy that she held.
At some point--it was all a blur--they were dismissed from the stadium, and Emma found herself in the Common Room. Her mother had sobbed sentimental motherly things at her about how proud she was. Conversely, she and her father had done the elaborate secret handshake that they’d invented when she was five, and he told her in an unsentimental fatherly manner that since she’d already busted some bad guys at her tender age, she would kick some serious backside as an Auror. Only Ron didn’t actually say ‘backside.’
And now, Emma’s friends were swarming around her, asking questions and (in Haley’s case) helping her make a list of things to buy with her prize money. But something was missing from the scene. Or rather, someone. Ivy was nowhere to be seen.
“Have any of you seen Ivy?” Haley asked suddenly, looking around.
“No,” Ted said, bewildered. “I don’t know when she got away from the group. She was sitting right near me at the Third Task.”
“Yes,” said Jordan with a twisted, sarcastic smile. “Very near you. In fact, I don’t know whether ‘near’ or ‘on’ would be the proper word to””
“You know, that is not revelant,” Haley interjected, stepping between the two boys.
Jordan smirked. “I believe the word you were so valiantly attempting to use there was ‘relevant,’” he told her.
“Did someone forget to take his happy pill today?” Haley asked caustically.
“Did someone forget to put her brain in the right way today?”
“Did someone forget to adjust his attitude today?”
“Did someone forget to pay the monthly rent on her hippocampus today?”
“Did someone…” Haley paused. “What’s a hippocampus?”
“Exactly!” crowed Jordan. The twins continued in this vein for quite awhile. Ted and Emma stared blankly at each other.
“Maybe we should just slowly walk away,” suggested Ted.
“Excellent idea,” Emma agreed. “But really, this has nothing to do with what I was saying earlier about Ivy. She’s gone off missing, and this isn’t the first time, either.”
“I noticed that, too,” Ted mused over the twins’ exclamations of ‘Do not!’ ‘Do, too!’ (They seemed to be, rather ironically, arguing over whether or not Haley had a juvenile mind.) “What do you think Ivy’s been up to?”
As if on cue, the door to the Common Room burst open and in raced Ivy. She looked uncharacteristically disheveled”wisps of hair were coming undone from her usually tidy braid, she appeared to have a smudge of earth on her cheek, the knees of her normally spotless robes were stained with grass, and her light grey eyes were wide. She doubled over, gasping for breath”she had clearly run all the way over as fast as her legs could carry her.
“I just saw something!” she panted. “It’s really important… but I… well…” she paused, trying to find the right words. “First, before I tell you what I’ve seen, I have to tell you something else… something I’ve been keeping from you all year…”
Ivy’s heart was racing sixteen point three miles a minute. She had never known exactly why she was keeping this a secret. It wasn’t a bad secret, and it wasn’t embarrassing… but she had been hoping to reveal it at the exact right time, maybe when Madame Patil had finished her project on teen werewolves so that Ivy could be there for Ted’s transformations again.
But she was sure that her friends would be a bit upset that she had kept something as big as this a secret all year”especially gossip-loving Haley, who she was sure would feel personally injured that Ivy hadn’t chosen to share this with her.
Her mouth suddenly felt dry and cottony. She moistened her cracked lips with her tongue and said, “You know how I was studying really hard at the beginning of the year?” Four heads nodded, their expressions of mixed interest and bewilderment. “Well,” Ivy continued, not knowing how to say this, “I was teaching myself something I’ve wanted to learn for ages… and, er, well, here it is!” She took a deep breath, took a step back from her friends… and changed.
Where the delicate-looking blonde girl had been, there stood a beautiful pure-white arctic fox, the only sign of Ivy left in it its jewel-bright grey eyes. It had thick, soft fur and dainty claws, a lovely specimen of its kind.
Emma looked as though she was sure she was having a very strange dream, Jordan’s jaw became briefly acquainted with the floor, and Haley fell backward out of her chair with a painful-sounding crash. But Ted’s eyes, full of shock for a moment, crinkled up into a smile of joyous disbelief.
The fox took a step forward, and Ivy-the-girl was standing before them again, beaming at her friends with a shining face.
“Ivy… I can’t believe it!” Ted croaked. “You’re an Animagus! In your fifth year! That’s… that’s amazing!”
Ivy grinned. “I got the idea awhile ago when Haley said on the train to Hogwarts in our third year that she, Emma, and I would be the Maraudettes”Fringe, Whisk, and Lightfoot”and I’ve always really admired the Marauders. And in their fifth year, the Marauders became Animagi for their werewolf friend. Well, I know Ted always feels kind of weird transforming while I watch, so I thought it might be nice if we, you know, transformed together. And I worked really hard to do it, but I’m really glad I did, and, well, you saw my Animagus form. It’s the same as my Patronus, which is interesting… so you can keep calling me Lightfoot. Or… or… Ivy. Ivy works, too.”
Her friends were speechless; conversely, Ivy had just said the most at one time that she had in quite awhile.
“Wow,” breathed Ted. “You really didn’t have to do all that for me. I feel bad that you did all that work just to make my transformations easier for me.”
Ivy hugged him. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’m so glad I did this. I can’t wait to transform with you.”
Haley cleared her throat very loudly and dramatically. “Righty-o,” she said loudly. “Sorry to, uh, break up the lovely mushiness and all, but I just have to say, I can’t believe that you, the goody-goody little prefect that you are, broke wizarding law”not the guidelines, not the school rules, but a law”to become an unregistered Animagus. That’s, like, really serious.”
“It is,” Jordan said strictly, actually agreeing with his twin for once. “And I can’t believe that you didn’t take that into consideration. “You could actually go to Azkaban for it. That’s an incredibly big sacrifice to make just for a friend.”
Ivy laughed. “Don’t worry,” she told them. “I’m registered. My name’s listed on all the official documents. I signed up on Christmas Eve just before the, erm, well, the whole broom closet incident…” she blushed slightly and couldn’t quite seem to meet Ted’s eyes. “ANYWAY!” she said a bit more forcefully, eager to change the subject. “I’m actually the first Animagus to register for the twenty-first century, so I’m really kind of proud about that.”
Jordan coughed nervously. It was wonderful to learn about his sister’s accomplishments, and to see her so happy and confident-looking, but he had just remembered something. “What was the thing you saw that you had to tell us about?” he prompted.
The smile vanished from Ivy’s face. “Apple,” she said, going very pale indeed. “He’s… he’s evil. I overheard him talking, and he’s going to do something illegal to the Muggles who come to the speech he’s giving tonight!”