The week that preceded the Quidditch match between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors had been full of more than the normal pre-game anticipation. The Hogwarts student body was buzzing with the surprising news that the niece of Gwenog Jones was going to be starting as Chaser for Gryffindor instead of Thaddeus Vance. Another reason for the interest was that the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Gregory Bligh, had been telling everyone who would listen that he had found a fatal flaw in the Gryffindor team during their earlier exhibition match.

On the Saturday of the match, the weather was almost perfect. The temperature was unusually warm with the only thing marring the perfect conditions being a steady crosswind that would place flying skills at a premium over brute strength. Almost from the opening whistle, the Gryffindor Seekers Freddy Weasley and Kaitlin Jones shredded the Slytherin defense with their daredevil flying techniques, scoring goal after goal. Meanwhile, Jones’ manic in their face defensive play caused many dropped Quaffles and rushed passes that always seem to find a Gryffindor player’s hand. At the same time, James Potter seemed to toy with the Slytherin’s Seeker Archer tricking him into making needless dives or blocking him from getting to the Golden Snitch. Finally after three and a half hours of one sided play, James Potter leisurely plucked the Snitch out the air to give Gryffindor a 340 to 40 victory.

The cheering of the students in the Gryffindor common room was almost deafening. Wood made three attempts at his victory speech before his fellow housemates got quiet enough so all could hear him. The speech ended with a salute to the newcomers of the team: James Potter and Kaitlin Jones. Wood raised the pair’s hands into the air and the room was filled with a roar that caused the many of people in the room’s portraits to cover their ears.

As the cheering was dying down, a stooped shouldered figure plodded toward Wood with his right hand extended. The hand held the Quidditch Captain’s badge. Wood’s large toothy smile seem to drain from his face as he saw what was being offered to him.

“Take it. Go ahead and take it,” Thaddeus Vance spoke with a voice full of resignation. Wood just stood there, looking from Vance’s face to the open hand, making no move to grasp the prize.

The badge was snatched from Vance’s open palm, but the intercepting hand was not Wood’s hand. Kaitlin Jones, with fire streaming out of her brown eyes, held the badge up toward Vance’s face and spat out, “You’re quitting? You can’t quit! You are the Quidditch Captain!”

“You’re a better Chaser than I am. Wood led you to victory over our arch rivals,” the boy explained.

“Of course, I’m a better Chaser than you are! So is Albus Potter for what it’s worth. However, Wood can’t be the Quidditch Captain! He’s a good enough Keeper, but he couldn’t lead starving Bowtruckles to wood lice if he had a map,” shouted Kaitlin, her spittle flying.

“Hey!” said Wood in a delayed response to Kaitlin’s comment.

“It’s true Woody,” a smiling Minerva Harris said as she slipped his hand into her hand and kissed Wood on his cheek.

“You’ve trained this team for almost two years. If you leave, they’ll fall apart by the end of the season. Play Beater or sit on the side lines, but if you want us to win the Quidditch Cup you must remain the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain,” Kaitlin finished. The last words of her statement echoed in the now silent room. Smirking at Vance, Kaitlin placed the badge back in the dumbfounded boy’s large hand.

Thaddeus Vance looked each of the team’s players in their eyes as he gauged their response. They were all nodding in agreement at Kaitlin’s declaration. Vance visibly swallowed. He closed his hand on the badge and in a commanding voice said, “Well you lot get to enjoy this until Wednesday evening, because practice begins at six and goes till I’m satisfied.”

The whole team cheered and the rest of the Gryffindors followed suit. A grinning James Potter patted Kaitlin Jones on her back and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. Kaitlin turned to confront the boy, but when she saw his face she realized the true meaning of his gesture and self-consciously smiled over at him.

Scorpius had watched the whole scene in total fascination. Just the other week, Kaitlin had been ready to kill Vance and yet now she had just let him save face. He knew that Grandfather Malfoy would call Kaitlin a weakling for not crushing her enemy under her heal while she had the chance, but he admired her for it. Although, he was not that certain that he could have done the same.

The ache in Scorpius’ stomach jarred him awake in the middle of the dark December night. “I shouldn’t have eaten those last two helpings of pie,” he thought as he rubbed his stomach. He carefully undid the hangings of this bed, retrieved his wand from the night stand, lit it and headed for the loo. However, the trip seemed to do him little good. So he decided to go downstairs and wait it out. As he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, he found the room barely lit by the last few surviving embers in the fireplace.

As Scorpius got to the bottom of the stairs, a noise caught his attention; it sounded like a snore coming from one of the cushy arm chairs in front of the fireplace. As he walked around to stand by the fireplace, Scorpius saw a small form curled up in the chair. At the sleeper’s feet was a textbook, and scraps of parchment were scattered on both the adjoining table and the carpeted floor. Adjusting his wand, he let the light fall across the face of the sleeping Gryffindor. It was Kaitlin Jones.

Kaitlin erupted from her sleep and blurted out, “Who’s there? What time is it?” She sat up using her knuckles to rub the lids of her eyes.

Scorpius pointed his lit wand at the mess on the floor. “What’s all this?”

“Nothing,” she responded very defensively, “I’m studying for the end of semester Charms’ test.”

Scorpius picked up a page from the floor and started to read it. The notes were about the levitation spell. Kaitlin’s notes were incomplete, incorrect and in places illegible. “The third line is wrong; it’s swish and then flick. You’ve got them backwards.”

Kaitlin snatched the page back from him, searched for a quill amongst the mess on the table, and corrected the notes. As she was scribbling, he started reading the next page from off of the floor. The quality of these notes was on a par with the previous one; mistake after mistake, jumped off the page at him.

“Thanks,” Kaitlin started to say until she saw him perusing the second sheet. “Hey! Give that back,” she said as she reached for the paper.

Scorpius pulled the page away from her hand. “You can study this forever and still not pass the test. By the way the spell is Wingardium Leh-vi-oh-sah not Levisosa. You need to write spell names phonetically,” he advised. Kaitlin looked confused by his advice. “Phonetically means to spell it the way it sounds.” She seemed to get it. “Jones, tomorrow, first thing before breakfast, wait here and I’ll get Weasley,” Scorpius instructed.

“Weasley? Which one?” she asked.

Scorpius was startled by her question. “Rose, of course,” he replied. It was funny that she was the only member of that large family he ever thought of. Kaitlin, who had been looking at her mess, started gathering it up and shoving it all back into her book bag. Scorpius helped her as much as she would let him, and the two walked to the stairs together.

Draco heard his name bellowed from the room beyond the kitchen door. He looked up from his reading of Ginny Potter’s interview of Gwenog Jones in the Daily Prophet to see Astoria’s pinched nervous face. He calmly folded the paper, reached out his right hand to touch his wife and attempted to assure her.

“Not much longer.”

Astoria’s respondent sigh was drowned out by the second shouting of his name. Draco stood up, carefully adjusted his vest, straightened his tie, and walked through the door into the large oak-paneled formal dining room.

“Finally,” Lucius Malfoy spat out, “there’s an idiot in my fire. Tend to it.”

Draco nodded to his father and walked around the large oak table to face the double fireplace. Neville Longbottom’s face peered out of the green flames. Draco wondered how much of his father’s tirade his landlord had overheard.

“How may I be of service to you, Longbottom?”

The last words of his greeting were almost drowned out by the loud clanking of a bell from the head of the table. Draco bit his tongue and awaited a response from the face in the fire.

“Sorry to interrupt your family’s breakfast, Draco. However an incident has occurred that might affect the potions shop. The Magical Law Enforcement officers would like you to be present to hear the witness’ statement. Can you come via floo powder to the Cauldron?’

Behind him, Draco heard Astoria enter the dining room to answer the bell. Without any greeting, his father said, “Fetch me the marmalade from the kitchen.” Draco could sense the heat of his wife’s anger more pronouncedly than the heat of the flames containing Longbottom’s image.

“Give me a few minutes and we will be there directly, Mr. Longbottom. I’m sorry if anything you heard…,” said Draco let his voice trail away.

“See you soon, Malfoy.”

Draco stood up and turned toward the large table just as his wife returned from the kitchen, a crystal jar filled with orange marmalade in her right hand. Draco intercepted his wife, took the jar from her and slammed it down on the end of the long table with a bone-jarring force.

Lucius and Narcissa looked down the long table at their son and the girl. Lucius sat his knife in hand, focused on the distant jar. After a few deep breathes, he laid the knife down on his plate, with an annoyed expression on his face, picked up his wand off the table and waved it toward the distant jar. Draco held the jar in place, fighting off the magical summoning. He did not try to hide a smile as he saw the color in his father’s face redden.

“Draco!”

His father’s voice was filled with menace. Draco met his father’s glare with a look of stony confidence.

“My wife’s name is Astoria. She is not ‘girl’, nor ‘you’, nor your personal servant. Astoria is the mother of your grandchild, and you will stop treating her this way!” shouted Draco.

Lucius, making exaggerated motions with his head, looked up to the ceiling and around the room. “Excuse me, Draco,” he purred, “But this is still my house. And I will address her in any manner that I wish to.” The smug look on his father’s face caused something in Draco to snap.

“Well, enjoy this Christmas with Scorpius, Father. It will be the last one you will ever spend with him,” Draco said, letting ice fill his voice. And, with his words frozen in the air, he led his wife to the fireplace, opened the ivory jar on the mantle piece, removed a handful of powder and tossed it into the grate. “Leaky Cauldron,” he shouted, and he, Astoria, and the jar of marmalade all disappeared.

Draco stepped out of the grate. Just as he was getting orientated, he found himself the recipient of a deep and passionate kiss. Astoria touched her forehead to his forehead and, as she pulled back, whispered, “I love you.”

Draco turned to find a perplexed Neville Longbottom and a smiling Luna Lovegood, who was talking to a young man in light blue robes.

“What has happened, Neville?” Draco asked, peering at Luna and the stranger.

“Luna stopped in for our normal morning breakfast. She left out the back to go to Ollivanders and found two men trying to open the wall. They attempted to force her to open the way into Diagon Alley. They also asked her about the location of your shop,” Neville whispered.

Draco turned his attention from Neville to what Luna saying. “So I sent my Patronus into the Leaky Cauldron to get Neville, and he came out with his wand at the ready. One of the men pulled a pretty violet orchid from inside his robes and the other one produced a small animal talisman. The two men grasped both items and disappeared.”

“Mrs. Scamander, can I temporarily borrow your memory so we can prepare a proper description of the suspects?” asked the interrogator.

Draco was confused until he realized that he had never heard Luna’s married name. Luna agreed to the request and a silvery thread of memory stuck to the tip of the Auror’s wand as he drew out from her blonde head. The Auror dropped the strand in a palm size cauldron and out from the small cup rose the image of two muscular black men with matching facial scars, wearing green robes emblazoned with two silver symbols: a griffin and a small flower.

Draco inhaled and dropped the jar of marmalade onto the stone floor of the Leaky Cauldron. The Auror and Neville turned toward Draco. Draco walked over to get a better view of the image. The embroidered symbols on the robes matched the two tiny sculptures on the Dokes’ mantle.