Disclaimer: The fine tapestry of plot and characters belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am merely pulling threads at will and weaving my own design in counterpoint to hers.
Chapter 13
The Doyennes of Disguise
Harry shoved the disquiet that he felt concerning Professor Trelawney into the back of his mind as he dived into a mountain of new assignments from Professor Lupin. Since the mirror project had been temporarily shelved pending results, Lupin had assigned Harry to master a considerable amount of charms and hexes. He was having difficulty in locating many of the counter-charms before he faced the Professor for the practical demonstration that he knew was sure to follow.
He was lounging in the common room after one particularly frustrating evening of searching through the tomes of the restricted section, his thoughts still on his assignments as he vainly searched for inspiration in the flickering grate. Hermione stumbled through the entrance sconce, weighed down by books and catalogues in her book bag as well as a sizeable stack in her arms. Regaining her balance at the last minute, she dumped her books onto one of the large desks that lined the room. With a heartfelt sigh, she collapsed in the chair across from Harry.
“What a day that was,” she murmured. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer yourself.”
“Just another fruitless day in the library,” offered Harry. “Lupin has me preparing for what I know will turn out to be a dueling match and I’m not having much luck finding counter-spells.”
“You don’t think he will be impressed by a well-placed protego charm, then?”
“Hardly.”
“What about some of those books that were on the shelves when we met for the D.A. meetings?” Hermione suggested. “I remember finding Jinxes for the Jinxed to be quite helpful.”
“I haven’t found anything remotely like that in the library so far “ and I swear I’ve been through the restricted section at least twice,” Harry complained.
“I may have actually run across another copy of that one in Dumbledore’s stash,” Hermione mused. “Why don’t you accompany me to the headmistress’ office tomorrow morning and we can look together? I think I can probably convince her to let you borrow it temporarily.”
Harry started to mumble his thanks, but Hermione’s attention had already been diverted by Ron who was thumbing through the top-most book in her lopsided pile. She was up in a flash but Ron held the book out of her reach playfully.
“Please be careful with that one,” warned Hermione. “My mother sent it to me specially and you wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to convince Filch to release it. He was determined to file it in his contraband drawer regardless of Professor Hooch’s permission slip. Had Professor McGonagall not interceded on my behalf--”
“Now that I know it comes so highly recommended by Filch,” Harry noted with a rich chuckle, “I think I’d like to take a look myself! I promise we’ll take good care of it,” he added when he noticed Hermione’s irritated look.
The book in question was entitled Halloween Entertaining and its cover featured a photograph of a woman wearing the most outlandish imitation of wizarding attire Harry had ever seen. The effect was heightened by weird yellow eyes with vertically slit pupils that gave her a reptilian appearance.
“Is this woman an American witch?” inquired Ron when he realized that Hermione was standing at his elbow.
“Not in the way that you mean it, no,” she answered laughing. “But her staff may argue that point with you.”
Seeing the perplexed look on Ron’s face, Hermione explained that her cousin had suggested the book even though the woman on the cover had a notorious reputation. It was widely known that all of the real work that went into any of her publications was the result of a cracker-jack staff; she was just the figurehead.
“Kind of like that Gilderoy Lockhart fellow,” Harry remarked.
“Well, sort of,” Hermione admitted.
“And Muggles don’t see through her sham?” asked Ron incredulously.
“Oh, they do, but they still buy her products.” Hermione shrugged to indicate the inexplicability of humanity.
“Are you sure she’s not a witch?” Revulsion was etched on Ron’s face as pointed to a photo of the same woman draped in black tulle festooned with rather large spiders. “This outfit looks like she shops in the same stores as Bellatrix Lestrange!”
“Sssh,” Hermione hissed as she shut the book. “You wouldn’t want Neville to overhear you!”
Harry was reminded of the deranged look of triumph on Bellatrix’s face as she forced Sirius back through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. Just like that, the images in Hermione’s book didn’t seem so funny after all. He excused himself and retired for the night. He could still hear Ron and Hermione bickering faintly in the background as he drifted off to sleep.
By mid-week, Hermione, Ginny and Tonks had set up temporary offices in an empty classroom on the ground floor. Posters had gone up throughout the school detailing the headmistress’ costuming guidelines and Tonks had already been obligated to magically expand the closet where she was busy cataloguing the donated clothing and props.
Hermione’s section was instantly recognizable as she had plastered a huge photo of her aunt and uncle impersonating Charles and Diana around the time of the royal engagement. It was being used as an example of how to assemble a costume from scratch.
Hermione leaned over Harry as he studied the photograph in minute detail. “My cousin says this was taken the year she was born,” Hermione began conversationally. “Her parents won the grand prize at the costume ball.”
“I can see why,” Harry observed. “They’re dead-ringers for Charles and Di.”
“Not really,” Hermione replied as she affixed a small picture labeled ‘BEFORE’ next to the giant one. “My aunt actually has long brownish hair but had it colored and cut specially. The lacy dress was a leftover maternity gown that was one of the few things she could still reasonably wear until she finished loosing her baby weight. My uncle fashioned his outfit using an old college band uniform and a discarded Marine Corps jacket he found in an attic trunk.”
“What about the ring?” Harry pointed to the photo.
“Cheap costume jewelry. But what made them really stand out was that they had both not only adopted the proper cadences in their speech, but had also studied the mannerisms of Charles and Diana. My cousin claims that her mom can still strike a perfect ‘shy Di’ pose that makes her do a double-take even without the costume.”
“But I thought that costumes resembling living persons weren’t allowed,” Harry pointed out.
“That was the headmistress’ stipulation, yes; but I’m only using this as an example. Here look at these,” Hermione offered as she magically tacked a pair of slightly smaller posters right next to the ‘Royals.’ Each bore two photos: the first ones showing Errol Flynn and Bela Lugosi, the actors; the next set showed Flynn dressed as Robin Hood and Lugosi as Dracula. “This illustrates the distinction that the headmistress was trying to make: that while dressing up as these men would not be a proper costume, Robin Hood or Count Dracula would be. There are just so many characters that have become synonymous with the actors that portrayed them that it is often tricky to make the distinction.”
To Harry quizzical look, she added, “It’s like the difference between impersonating Abraham Lincoln and your Aunt Rose from Cleveland.”
“Perhaps that would be a better example,” Harry suggested pointedly.
But Hermione stood her ground as she regarded him with hands on hips. “And just how many of the students would know who Lincoln was, realistically speaking? Both you and I went to a Muggle primary school, but that’s not true for everyone.”
“Then it would motivate them to do a bit of research.”
She gave him the skeptical look that was Mrs. Weasley’s trademark. “If you think the drive to research things in the library is a universal trait, you are going to be disappointed. Take it from someone who knows.”
“What about as a costume idea then?”
“I’ve been trying to quash that as well.”
“Too obvious?”
“Besides that, there’s nothing in the clothing that illustrates the character,” Hermione asserted.
“You don’t think that a beard and a tall stovepipe hat are distinctive enough?” Harry queried with a sardonic lift to his eyebrow.
“Don’t forget that he always dressed like an undertaker,” she added with a small snigger. Then in a more serious tone, she reasserted, “It’s not unique enough attire. Here let me demonstrate.”
She rummaged in her desk drawer briefly before removing a folder that contained a number of sepia-toned photographs which she laid out on the desk. Each was identified by tag lines along the bottom edge. Harry leaned over for a better look at Benjamin Disraeli, Rutherford B. Hayes and a group shot from an exclusive London men’s club circa 1890.
With a satisfied smile, Hermione explained, “You see, it was practically the uniform of the day during most of Queen Victoria’s reign, both here and in America…. Besides what made Lincoln unique was his oratory style: poetic and succinct.”
“And you don’t see any of the students pulling that one off,” Harry surmised with a nod. “What about one of the teachers?”
Hermione took a moment to consider the possibilities. “Flitwick’s got the proper demeanor,” she offered gamely, “but you have to admit, he’s a bit short in stature.”
“What about Lupin? He’s tall.”
Hermione barely stifled a laugh before returning, “I believe Lupin’s exploring a slightly less staid side of his personality.”
Harry was about to probe for more information, but then decided that he shouldn’t ask her to betray Tonks’ confidence. Taking a different tack, he posed, “How are you going to keep people from bending the rules to suit themselves, though?”
“Very simply. Everyone’s concept must be signed off by either a teacher, Ginny or myself. That’s the last item on the costume checklist.”
“No wonder I hardly ever see you in the common room anymore,” Harry said. “Thanks for getting me the book, anyway; it sure has made my studying go much better.”
“So you’re prepared to duel Lupin?” she replied as she assumed a jaunty en garde position.
“Not just yet, but I sure could use some practice. Care to give me your best shot?” he asked hopefully.
“Sorry, Harry, I’m just swamped this week. Did you ask Ginny?”
At the mention of her name, Ginny stuck her head around the next partition.
“Not another one needing alterations?” she intoned wearily. Then seeing Harry her face brightened up immediately. “Oh, Harry, didn’t realize it was you. Missed you at the Quidditch tryouts “ but I understand why you felt that your presence would have distracted me from choosing my own team members.”
“So did you recruit any good ones?” Harry asked cheerfully, suddenly grateful that Hermione had insisted on making his excuses.
“We’ll see how they do after I whip them into shape,” Ginny replied. “Luckily, Gryffindor doesn’t play until the second match of the season, so I have a bit of time.”
Hermione interrupted tactfully with, “Harry was looking for a sparring partner to prepare for his upcoming duel with Professor Lupin…”
“Sounds exciting; where do we get tickets?” Ron’s ginger head popped into view as he came around the corner.
“Now you sound just like Fred and George,” Hermione remarked. “It’s just a class assignment that Harry is preparing.”
At the mention of school work, Ron backed away awkwardly. Hermione grabbed him by the arm and led him the rest of the way toward the exit. “Got another appointment.” She waved good-bye from the door.
Harry instantly felt at a loss for words with only Ginny in the room.
“So your assignment is to prepare for a wizard’s duel with Lupin?” she inquired. “Pretty tall order, if you ask me. He always struck me as a rather competent wizard in his own right.”
Grateful for her steering the conversation in a comfortable direction, Harry replied, “He really hasn’t come out and said that we’ll be dueling; but he has me learning a whole bunch of spells and jinxes--”
“And counter-jinxes by the look of that volume you’ve been carrying around for the past week,” observed Ginny. “All right, I’ll give it a try. But you’ll have to loan me your material for a quick review or I won’t have a chance of preparing you for Lupin’s offensive.”
Ginny couldn’t help noticing that Harry’s eyes kept reverting to Hermione’s posters. “Sort of wish she could have used people that the students could instantly identify,” she mumbled.
“Yeah, that was sort of the point I was trying to make,” Harry conceded.
“That was the general consensus “ except for the headmistress. She was adamant that using any photos that depicted current celebrities could subject the school to legal action from overactive publicists.”
“They have such over-blown egos?” Harry sniggered.
“Apparently so,” Ginny added with a smirk of her own. “The headmistress stressed that she would rather be hexed a thousandfold than to face down a cadre of Muggle solicitors.” Lowering her voice to a confidential whisper, she supplied for Harry’s ears alone, “Hinted that even the Cruciatus Curse paled in comparison.”
Harry laughed appreciatively, but without another ready-made subject for discussion it wasn’t long before Ginny’s close presence alone was enough to unnerve him. Stepping back onto familiar ground, he reiterated that he would turn over his study materials at dinner so that she could prepare and then ducked out the door.
When he arrived in the Great Hall that evening, though, he found Ginny and Hermione already in a huddle and surrounded by a small mountain of open books.
“Hi, Harry,” she waved him over as Hermione hastily closed the books. “Looks like I won’t need to borrow your materials after all. Hermione found me some other books that might help me to prepare. I have Quidditch practice tomorrow at six, so let’s say about eight o’clock then?”
Harry supplemented his studying the next day with a lot of tentative wand work as he prepared for the first practice session. He dashed off for a quick dinner, nothing too heavy to slow his reflexes, and was back in the common room by seven o’clock for a bit of last minute reviewing. Neville was studying his Herbology texts at the next desk so it made for companionable silence.
As the hour drew near, Hermione tumbled through the sconce and sank down wearily by the fire.
“Harry,” she began in a tremulous voice, “you wouldn’t happen to know where Ron keeps the butterbeer, would you? I could really use something to calm my nerves.”
Neville offered to share his pot of tea with her as Harry passed her a clean mug and some milk and sugar. She sipped slowly and carefully watched each of them in turn, hearted by their presence.
Ginny preceded Ron through the entrance and immediately ran to Hermione’s side when she saw the stricken look on her friend’s face.
“What happened, Hermione?” she asked gently.
Hermione took a deep breath and carefully placed her empty mug on the tea tray before beginning. “I had to turn away a costume idea from a first-year just now and I didn’t realize it would hit me so hard.”
“Did he break down in tears?” offered Ginny.
“No, he actually took it rather stoically once we were able to explain…Oh, here let me show you,” she offered, pulling out a slick video magazine full of offers for Muggle DVD’s. “We’ve been using this as a sort of impromptu guide to movie characters,” she explained to the boys.
She flipped open the page and pointed to the cast of an elaborately crafted trilogy, full of those creatures that Muggles considered to be nothing but myth but which freely roamed the wizarding world. Actors in detailed costumes portrayed elves, dwarves, giants, trolls and numerous dark creatures that would give a Death Eater nightmares. When the folio reached Harry, he had to turn it this way and that to avoid the glare on its shiny surface. Peering carefully at the figure that Hermione had signaled out, Harry had to admit that the silver-haired wizard in a pointed hat looked remarkably like Dumbledore!
“I was in total shock when he showed me. I didn’t know how to explain the sense of loss, the total inappropriateness…” Hermione’s words trailed off. “Luckily, Professor McGonagall was conferring with Tonks and came to my rescue.”
“Was she able to explain it to the first-year?” Neville asked softly.
Hermione nodded and detailed how the headmistress had taken the first-year aside and pulled a chocolate frog card from her pocket that just, somehow, managed to have Dumbledore’s picture on it. She had patiently explained about the school’s beloved headmaster who had died unexpectedly last term. Since most of the students here were present at the funeral, she’d said, it would just be too sad if someone were to dress as a character that was sure to remind everyone of their loss.
“Then she pointed out the white tomb that could just be seen at the edge of the lake in the twilight,” Hermione concluded, wiping a tear from her right eye.
“Were you able to suggest an alternative costume?” Ginny inquired in a helpful tone.
As Hermione hung her head, Ginny placed her hand gently on Hermione’s forearm and urged her up. “Don’t worry about it,” she soothed as she led Hermione towards her room, “I think Fred and George have a super-hero suit that just might fit a first-year. It was mis-sized and I’m sure we can get him a discount.”
Ginny caught Harry’s hand in passing and whispered, “Another time…”
Harry was about to turn in himself when he noticed that Ron was still fascinated with the slick Muggle catalog.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ron marveled. “Look at this figure here.”
Harry and Neville gathered around the image, but it was just too small to be distinguished in the dim light. With an impatient flick of his wand, Ron enlarged the image to cover the entire page. He pointed to a small hunched figure slinking at the feet of the ersatz Dumbledore. “Is it just my imagination, or does this character here “ decked out in nothing but a loincloth “ remind you of Kreacher?” Ron demanded.
Harry was inexplicably reminded of the description of Lupin’s vacation rental: a house belonging to a wizard who had acted as a consultant to a moviemaker.
The first Hogsmeade weekend was scheduled before the end of September to allow students to begin their costume quests. The headmistress had considered whether to allow the first and second years to go along, but decided that there was not enough time to procure all the parental permission slips “ let alone the added supervision necessary for such a large contingent.
Ginny had been assigned the supplemental duties of aiding the first and second years with costume purchases (owl service was strongly encouraged) and with arranging for any additional alterations that might be required. Ginny had taken it all in stride, suddenly grateful that her mother had insisted she practice the necessary charms over the summer holidays each year. As the sole female of seven children, she had naturally bristled at the extra familial obligations thrust upon her. Grudgingly, she had come to realize over the past few weeks, however, that perhaps her mother had shown extraordinary foresight.
While other volunteers had been able to lend a hand with pinning garments as needed, it was a cumbersome method of accomplishing what could be done with the tip of a wand. Always eager to master a new spell, Hermione had attempted to learn from Ginny. But it had become quickly apparent that it was a skill that required the steel nerves and steady hands of a surgeon “ not to mention a great deal of practice. In the end, Hermione had contented herself with the taking of measurements.
Halloween frenzy seemed to take over the entire student population as they entered into the first weeks of October. Practically every student was consumed with assembling the perfect costume, involved in one of the event committees, or part of the extra activities that had been assigned in Muggle Studies classes “ often all three. Harry noted that House rivalry had reared its head as the Decorating and Refreshment Committees were overrun with volunteers from Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The Hufflepuff presence was not so easily pinpointed; but Harry supposed that as Tonks was part of the Costume Office, her enthusiasm would likely infect them as well.
In an unprecedented move, the start of the Quidditch season was postponed until November, which in turn meant that the Gryffindor team would not play its first game against Hufflepuff until December. While this took some of the pressure off Ginny, she still had more than enough added responsibilities to consume her days.
Harry accepted that his dueling practice sessions would likely have to wait until after the Halloween Ball. Luckily, the preparation frenzy seemed to have spread through the ranks of the teachers as well, and Lupin had not been pressing Harry as hard as before. He even confided that Tonks had made numerous trips to her favorite antique stores and weekend flea markets in London in order to assemble the perfect ensemble.
“As part of the Costume Office, I think she feels the need to demonstrate her skill,” he confessed with a smile. “Either that or competitiveness has consumed her and she is determined to win the costume contest.”
“But won’t she have an unfair advantage by being a Metamorphmagus?” Harry inquired as this was the first he’d heard about a contest.
“Oh, she’s bound by the same restrictions as everyone else. She has to do it the Muggle way “ otherwise, she’ll be the first to be disqualified. Perhaps it’s the challenge that’s fueling her after all.”
“I’m surprised that she’s not assembling her outfit from the items in her own wardrobe,” commented Harry.
“That would just be business as usual for Tonks; what would be the fun in that? Besides,” Lupin added with a laugh, “she’s in charge of assembling my costume, not hers. That was the deal we made. My only stipulation was no cheesy outfits.”
“So you don’t have any idea what she has in store for you?” Harry asked merrily.
“Well, I did warn her that I reserved the right to file for divorce, if necessary,” Lupin quipped. “No seriously, I trust her “ just as she will have to trust me.”
“So you picked out her costume?” Harry inquired, forgetting that this was probably none of his business.
Lupin nodded with a twinkle in his eye. “Hermione helped me decide. I think it will suit Tonks perfectly!”
And so it went throughout the month: a bit of lessons and some friendly patter from Lupin. His relaxed attitude so surprised Harry that he became convinced that Lupin was just trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Any day now, he expected the professor to pounce at him from behind his desk with his wand at the ready. On pleasant days when they often hiked the surrounding countryside, Harry had taken to skirting the largest trees warily as he awaited the inevitable ambush. But the ambush never came “ at least not yet “ and it only convinced Harry to work harder on his spells.
Despite the whirlwind that surrounded him at times, Harry held to the principles that he had presented to McGonagall when he had agreed to return for a seventh year: he was going to keep from getting overly involved in extra-curricular activities. There were plenty of other people yearning for a chance to prove themselves with committee assignments and he was not going to allow himself to feel guilty for sitting this one out. His foremost priority, he reminded himself, was to gain as much knowledge as possible in preparation for the uncertain future “ a future that might very well come knocking earlier than expected.
That’s not to say that he wasn’t going to allow himself some well-deserved recreation. So with less than a month to go before the big event, Harry turned his thoughts to assembling a costume of his own. Looking through his closet, the only festive clothing he found were the formal robes he had worn to the Yule Ball in his fourth year. He checked to see that they were still in good condition and then wandered down to the Costume Office for a consultation with the resident experts.
Luckily, Hermione had just finished with a group of third-years and had a bit of free time before her next appointment. When he outlined the basis for his costume, she thought it had promise and showed him some variations that could be worked around it.
“I don’t know, Hermione,” he protested. “Everything just seems too campy.”
“Oooh, I think I know just the thing,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Let me get it from my room.”
Harry made room for her to pass, but instead of walking out into the corridor, she went over to the nearest window and pushed it open a bit further. “I can summon it from here, I always leave my window open for Crookshanks,” she clarified.
In a matter of moments, she was holding a fancy souvenir program from a West End theatre production.
“I saw this over the summer for the third time with my parents,” she admitted as Harry thumbed through pages of spectacular photographs. “I know it’s kind of hokey “ and totally overblown “ but it’s still a great favorite of mine. Just call me a hopeless romantic. And before you remind me that the current incarnation was written and staged by a Brit, it has been performed just as frequently on the Broadway stage.”
Harry liked what he saw: a tormented villain (or was he the hero?), an eerie quality that was perfect for Halloween, an ominous setting. Best of all, with the addition of his white-tie ensemble, he would only need an opera cape and a mask.
“I like it Hermione,” he proclaimed with a smile, “but the mask is absolutely essential to the character--”
“”and masks are strictly forbidden by the costume guidelines,” she finished for him. “Don’t you think that Fred and George would have already figured out how to work around that? They have developed a new product that they are calling ‘facial skins’.”
Harry screwed up his face at the name. He was beginning to have second thoughts about this.
“I know the name needs a lot of work, but it’s truly a good description of what it does. Here let me demonstrate,” she explained as she unfolded a bit of gossamer fabric from a small box. She held it up so that Harry could see that it was imprinted with the garish makeup of a circus clown.
Holding the fabric before her eyes in the mirror, she tapped it lightly with her wand. Magically the ‘skin’ fitted itself to the contours of her face so that it looked like she had spent hours applying greasepaint. The most remarkable thing of all was that one could still see enough of her facial features to recognize her, thus neutralizing the headmistress’ concerns about security.
With a flick of her wand, the ‘skin’ was released from her face and floated harmlessly to the floor. She gingerly picked it up and folded it gently into its box.
Harry was convinced. “Can you get me one that will make my face look like it’s wearing that particular mask?” he asked tentatively, pointing to the theatrical program.
“Absolutely,” she assured him. “What are you going to do for a cape, though?”
“Did anyone donate one in the clothing drive?”
“Only if you want to look like a moth-eaten Zorro,” Hermione quipped. “Tell you what, if you trust me to get you just what you need, I’ll get Ginny to place an order from Gladrags Wizard Wear. Delivery guaranteed in three days via owl service.”
“Thanks, Hermione. It won’t be too expensive now, will it?”
“I’ll have it put on my personal account,” Hermione winked. “You can pay me back later.”
With a definite bounce in his step, Harry returned to the workbooks he had left sprawled over the sofa cushions in the tower. It was a sign of his elation that he only stopped once en route to check for Lupin behind the suits of armor on the grand staircase.
Hermione caught up with him later that night to remind him that she would need to take some measurements before sending the order off the next day.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” she added, “could I get a look at you in your dress robes? I wouldn’t be surprised if they needed a bit of altering.”
Relieved that Ron and Neville were not around to witness this, Harry brought out the black jacket for Hermione to examine.
“Fabric looks good, could do with a bit of brushing, but nothing we can’t handle,” she said appraisingly. “Let’s check for the sleeve length.”
But when Harry put the jacket on, it was obvious to both of them that he had plainly outgrown it.
“Do you think it might be let out a bit?” Harry suggested hopefully. “I hear Ginny can work magic…”
“Only if she can conjure you up another jacket “ and that’s not allowed,” Hermione countered. “No need to embarrass yourself with the shirt and trousers. Face it, you don’t look like a fourth-year anymore.”
“What will I do for a costume then?” Harry moaned, sinking into the nearest chair.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” she assured him. “Dress robes in good condition can always be traded in. How else do you think people buy second-hand robes?”
“You mean like Ron’s?” Harry asked as he laughed at the memory.
Hermione joined in. “They were pretty lame, but I think the sour look he wore most of the evening was actually worse!”
At the sound of the stone sconce, they composed themselves just in case it turned out to be Ron. But it was only Neville in his customary overalls.
“Pardon me,” he muttered, “didn’t realize you were having a private consultation, Harry.”
“I can work you in after Harry,” Hermione called to Neville jokingly.
Neville peeked around his bedroom door and quipped, “Thanks, Hermione, but I already have my costume lined up thanks to a great idea from Professor Flitwick. You’ll just have to be surprised along with everyone else!”
Hermione motioned for Harry to stand up. “I’m going to have to take a few extra measurements,” she began apologetically as she pulled a tape measure from her pocket and hung it around her neck.
“There is no way I’m letting you take an inside leg measurement,” Harry protested.
“Would you rather I had Ginny do it?” Hermione offered in mock innocence.
“There has to be some other way,” he demanded.
Hermione burst out laughing. “You boys are all alike “ one look at a tape measure and you turn to jelly. Don’t worry, Ginny taught me how to take measurements magically.”
She summoned a small footstool so that she would stand taller than he. With her wand pointing vertically over Harry’s head, Hermione performed a quick swirling motion. Then she tapped the end of the wand to her notepad to record the measurements neatly. At the top of the page she wrote: Harry.
“All done,” she announced as she slapped her notepad shut.
Harry Potter and the Hero's Lament by L A Moody
Chapter Notes: Harry finally gives in to the Halloween frenzy that had taken over the entire school, teachers included; Ginny agrees to help Harry train for Lupin’s class.
Chapter Endnotes: Apologies to all esteemed members of the legal profession for the light-hearted ribbing in this chapter. I needed an explanation as to why my story could not include contemporary examples as well.