Say it once, say it twice
Take a chance and roll the dice
Ride with the moon in the dead of night
Everybody scream, everybody scream
In our town of Halloween

I am the clown with the tear-away face
Here in a flash and gone without a trace
I am the "who" when you call, "Who's there?"
I am the wind blowing through your hair
I am the shadow on the moon at night
Filling your dreams to the brim with fright
This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Tender lumplings everywhere
Life's no fun without a good scare
That's our job, but we're not mean
In our town of Halloween
In this town
Don't we love it now?
Everybody is waiting for the next surprise

"This is Halloween"
From The Nightmare Before Christmas

LUCY:

My Halloween morning started with a bat flying directly at my face.

I screamed, of course, and swatted it away. Coincidentally, it collided directly with the most likely person to send the winged fiend my way: Fred Weasley. But, to my immense disappointment, he didn't react the same way I did. Instead, he transfigured the bat back into a fluffy white quill and tossed it to George, who was standing a couple feet behind him and looking between Fred with disbelief and me with concern.

"Good morning, Cub," Fred said cheerfully.

For a moment, I was paralyzed by fear. I had forgotten exactly how much I hated bats. But once the moment passed, I started to laugh. It seemed silly to be terrified of bats when I had been tortured in caves over summer.

"Fred Weasley, you are a menace," I replied, shaking my head and glancing around the common room for the first time. "Merlin. Were you two up all night doing this?"

"Indeed we were! We would have set up a maze, too, but my darling girlfriend scheduled Quidditch practice for tonight so we will be otherwise occupied after the feast."

"You've done well with what you did set up," I said. It was true. I walked along the wall, admiring the various masks. Some flashed between orange and red and black and purple and green with no apparent pattern, others made guttural rasping sounds supposed to mimic breathing, and one screamed directly in my face. I jumped back and turned to face the twins; Fred was laughing again, and George winced from where he had precariously perched himself on the back of an armchair a safe distance away.

I was breathless from being startled, but I smiled after a moment. "That one packs quite a punch, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, sorry, forgot to warn you about that one," George said, stifling a yawn.

"It's alright, still better than the bloody bat." I headed over to the armchair and sat on the part of the seat intended for sitting, using George's dangling feet as resting places for my elbows. I tipped my head back and grinned up at him. "You know, most people sit on the cushion of the chair, not the top."

"Well, I'm not most people," he replied with a grin. He glanced up and laughed. "Incoming."

Before I had time to react, Fred landed on top of me. He sighed dramatically and leaned back, pushing me deeper into the chair. "Merlin's pants, am I tired! I'm so glad I have a comfortable chair where I can rest my aching bones."

I tried to push him off of me, but it was in vain. He was a Beater. I was a Chaser, and an out-of-shape one at that. Still, I pushed and pushed and pushed, protesting, "Fred Weasley, get off of me!"

"Do you hear something, Georgie?" Fred asked.

"No, nothing, Freddie," George replied.

I attempted to reach for my wand, but I was utterly and completely trapped. It didn't help that George lowered his calves like restraints against my shoulders. When I realized the struggle was futile, I harrumphed as loudly as I could and accepted my fate.

"Thanks for not treating me like I'm fragile," I said with a sigh. "You're obnoxious nuisances, but you do know how to make life a little more interesting."

George's calves against my shoulders loosened a bit, and Fred seized advantage of his opportunity and tossed his twin's feet skyward. George toppled off the back of the chair with a loud crash, making Fred laugh so hard I was able to successfully wriggle out from underneath him.

Fred grinned. "A little more interesting? We're offended."

"I do prefer, however," George said, rising to his feet, "when the 'interesting' comes at the expense of someone other than myself."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the door to the boys' dormitories opened, and two first-years whose names I thought were Calian and Declan emerged. Two masks shot over to the pair and hovered less than six inches from their faces, shouting "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!" before returning to their places on the wall as if nothing had happened. Declan's eyes were wide with fright, but Calian smiled.

"My family loves masks!" he said, hurrying over to examine the two dozen or so that lined the wall. I noticed for the first time that he spoke with an American accent; I couldn't remember if I'd ever heard him talk before. "Did you make these from cedar? That's what we use for ours back home!"

"We did, actually," Fred replied as he joined the boy at the wall. "How does your family make their masks?"

While Fred talked to Calian, I smiled and waved at Declan. "Welcome to Halloween at Hogwarts," I said with a shrug. "Guess how my day started?"

The boy, still a bit pale, cocked his head. "How?"

I pointed at Fred. "That one sent a bat flying at my face."

"Didn't that hurt? Beater bats are heavy!"

"Oh, no no, not one of those." I shook my head. "That would have hurt for sure! No, he sent the animal at me."

"One of these," George said from behind me. The quill in his hand turned again into a terror with wings.

Maybe it was silly to still be afraid of bats after everything I had experienced, but when the little bastard — the bat, not George (well, maybe George) — was so close to me, I didn't exactly have time to process how silly it was before my feet acted of their own accord and I jumped away with a yelp.

Declan laughed, and George glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. Still a bit concerned, still a bit hesitant. His tone was light and teasing, though. "You alright there, Diggory?"

I stepped backward. "I'm alright here."

George stepped toward me, bat still sitting on his hand.

I stepped backward again.

George stepped toward me again.

I stepped backward again.

George stepped toward me again, this time a tiny bit of a smile forming.

I stepped backward again, eyes flickering between his face and the bat on his hand. Then, when he stepped toward me again, I stepped toward him, too.

"I gave a Death Eater a clown nose, I shouldn't be afraid of bats," I muttered, but if it was more to myself or to George, I wasn't sure. I took another step closer and held my hand out, screwing up my face and turning away. "Just do it, I can handle it, I can—"

As soon as the little feet touched my fingertips, I yelped yet again and jumped back. The bat, terribly offended, flew away in the direction of Fred and Calian as George and Declan both laughed.

I shook my head, blushing furiously. "No, I can't do it, I still hate bats, I still hate bats."

I stayed with the twins in the common room for quite a while, laughing as every person who came down the stairs received the same loud greeting. I was special, though. I was the only one who received a bat to the face.

Twenty minutes before class, Harry and Ron still hadn't come down. Hermione and I told the twins we'd drag the boys down to breakfast and climbed the stairs to their dorm to make sure they were awake and alive and alright and all that. I was going to knock, but Hermione was in front of me and pushed the door open.

I immediately clapped my hands over our eyes, but it was too late. Of course Hermione opened the door while Harry and Ron were both pulling their pajama shirts off over their heads.

Hermione wrenched my hand off her eyes and marched into the room. "Oh, honestly, Lucy, you were on the Quidditch team for years, aren't you used to this by now? We were just making sure you were awake, class starts in twenty minutes. Do you both have your bags packed already?"

"She changes in her locker, so no, she's not used to it," Harry said. I could hear the smile in his voice as it turned in my direction a couple moments later. "We've both started buttoning our shirts now, if you can bear to look."

I uncertainly lowered my hand from my eyes, and surely enough, both shirts were halfway buttoned. I made a point of making eye contact with Harry, not trusting myself to look anywhere else.

He was still smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes all the way. "Is it really such a horrible sight?"

"I, er, I—" No. Not a horrible sight at all. You're a brilliant sight. Wow, did I really just think that? I can't say that. "I was just, er, worried about the risk of going blind. Two ghostly white British boys in October, you know, if the candlelight hits you just right, it's a terrible risk, Hermione and I could have been blinded."

"Right." Harry turned around to grab his tie, and when he looked back at me with a grin, I was still staring. I blinked, praying I wasn't blushing, and headed over to his school bag and rifled through it.

"Harry's all packed," I reported. "Wait, he has two Potions textbooks."

"Ron's missing his," Hermione said back.

I tossed one of the Potions textbooks onto Ron's bed, and Hermione stuffed it in his bag.

"Is this what mornings in the girls' dormitory are like?" Ron wondered aloud as he pulled his robes on.

"Well, they start with Hermione's sunrise showers, so not really," I replied. "We all learned the silencing charm as first-years, very impressive."

Hermione flushed. "Yes, well, it's a good way to start the day."

"I shower at night, usually," Harry said.

"Yeah, same here." I've known Harry for four years now, yet I never knew that. Interesting.

I lowered myself onto Harry's bed, eyes wandering a bit. I hadn't been in the boys' dormitory in quite a while, but it hadn't changed much. The main difference I noticed between Harry's space and the other boys' was how empty it was. Neville's bed was a greenhouse in and of itself. Vines wrapped up and down his bedposts, his nightstand was crowded with plants, and sitting on the middle of his bed was his pride and joy, the mimbulus mimbletonia. Ron's bed had a massive Chudley Cannons blanket on it, and his curtains were covered with various family pictures and Quidditch magazine clippings. Seamus still had posters from the Quidditch World Cup all around his space, and Dean's area was littered with doodles and paintings and pictures of him with Seamus. But Harry's was... empty. I knew he had a scrapbook of pictures of his parents in the drawer in his nightstand, and I knew the Marauder's Map was probably in there, too. His nightstand had an empty goblet, and his wand, and a couple of scraps of parchment. I read the closest one out of curiosity. Snuffles birthday: November 3!

"D'you realize what today is?" Ron asked.

I snapped from my daze and turned to face him. I saw Harry's fingers falter with his shoelaces out of the corner of my eye.

Even Hermione hesitated, but she was still the first to find her voice. "Er, what do you mean?"

Ron grinned. "We fought that troll, four years ago today."

"Oh." I released a breathy laugh of relief. "Right. Anyone fancy a trip to the Forbidden Forest tonight? We could find one to fight, for old time's sake."

"Merlin, don't even joke about that," Harry replied with an equally-weak laugh, shaking his head as he rose to his feet. He glanced at me, and I saw in more detail that nagging darkness in his eyes. It had been there for over a week at that point, but it seemed darker than usual today. "Want to head down? I'm starving, and you probably are too."

I nodded, instantly jumping up and passing him his bookbag. "See you two down there," I called over my shoulder as I followed Harry down the stairs — he was in a hurry for some reason.

I had gotten so distracted in the dormitory I had completely forgotten about the masks.

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!" it screeched in Harry's face. Harry jumped and swatted at it, and I skipped the last couple of steps so I landed next to him.

"You okay?" I asked.

He nodded, a distant look still in his eyes.

"I know what today is," I said softly.

Then he looked at me.

I reached forward and squeezed his hand. "It's okay. You got me through October 25th, and I'll get you through today. Okay?"

Harry nodded a second time, so I dropped his hand and led the way out of the common room before the masks could startle either of us again. The day was easy enough, at first. We got through our morning classes much the way we had been doing for weeks at that point, filling the silence with mumbled conversations about Dumbledore's Army.

I didn't mention Verdimillious.

The day was easy enough until we were on our way to Potions. We were passing the seventh-years as always when it happened.

One second, Alicia was laughing at something George had said. The next, a spell whizzed between Harry and me. The next, Alicia's eyebrows were growing past her eyes, down her cheeks, past her chin.

Chaos ensued.

George's eyes, suddenly murderous, locked on someone over my shoulder. Harry and I whirled around in unison to find Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, looking too smug to be innocent. We both reached for our wands, but before either of us could do anything, the hulking seventh-year that towered over both of us had become a chunky-looking duck at our feet.

"Bloody hell," Harry said, choking on his laughter. I snickered, too, when the duck flapped its wings and quacked indignantly.

"Finite incantatem!" Hermione shouted over the sound of everyone's confusion and laughter, and we remembered all at once the problem that had started this mess. Angelina and George each took one of Alicia's arms now that Hermione had stopped her eyebrows from growing, and they were attempting to navigate the clamoring clash of red and green when a deafening blast filled the dungeons. My hands flew over my sensitive ears, and I staggered back against the stone wall of the dungeons and shut my eyes tightly.

Bloody Snape and his bloody Drone Jinx.

Harry was with me in an instant, pressing his hands over mine rather than covering his own ears until the horribly loud sound stopped.

"What is the meaning of this commotion?" Snape asked in his horrendous drawl that had a way of ruining everyone's day.

Everyone tried to answer at once, and this time, Harry's hands were even faster than mine. His hands were the ones pressed over my ears when the Drone Jinx sounded again. As soon as it stopped, a loud quack filled the silence, which would have been funny if my head hadn't been pounding so intensely.

Snape strode over to us, and with a flick of his wand, Bletchley returned to his human form, spluttering and red in the face.

"George Weasley turned me into a duck!" he announced, pointing at George with a shaking finger.

There was another uproar, but Snape silenced everyone with a glare this time rather than the drone. "I want to hear only from Mr. Bletchley— Miss Spinnet, what on earth—"

"If I may, Professor," George said through gritted teeth. "I did no such thing. Ducklifors is an incredibly difficult transfiguration jinx, it would have been impossible to manage nonverbally while I was trying to help my friend here, who was struck by a Hair-Thickening Charm that seemed to come from the direction of Mr. Bletchley here."

"How do you know it was nonverbal, Weasley?" Snape asked.

George nodded at Bletchley. "Did you hear me? See my mouth move?"

"No," Bletchley muttered in response.

"Can we take Alicia to the Hospital Wing now, Professor?" Angelina asked icily. "Since there's nothing to sort here involving George?"

Snape blinked then nodded. "Yes. Go, all of you. Off to class. Now!"

George met my eyes as he led Alicia away, and he nodded ever so slightly. I nodded back, smiling a bit as I realized exactly what had happened.

George Weasley, you are one of my favorite people.

"You alright?" Ron asked as we followed Snape into the classroom.

I managed a nod. "Just a bit loud."

"I'll look up the counter-jinx," Hermione whispered. "It would be good to know, don't you think?"

I nodded again and lowered myself onto a stool next to Harry, ears still ringing. Our typical table slowly filled up, Hermione on my right, Ron on hers. Archie and Cam slid in across from us, and this would have been fine, but Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson filled the last two seats, one of which typically belonged to Neville and the other typically remained empty.

Snape's lecture was incredibly brief, and as soon as it was over, he retired to his office.

I pursed my lips as he slammed the door behind him. "Is it just me or does Snape seem sort of... sad today?"

"I hope he is," Archie replied. "He doesn't deserve an ounce of happiness. He's the world's biggest prick and his suffering brings me joy."

Cam smacked his arm. "Don't say that, that's mean."

"Is it?" he asked, completely unfazed.

"Hey, Potty," Pansy interrupted, "I heard Warrington's sworn to knock you off your broom on Saturday."

"Warrington's aim's so pathetic I'd be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me," Harry retorted.

I stifled a laugh with my sleeve, which made Harry grin.

"Let's hope Bletchley is better at dodging Bludgers than he is at dodging Ducklifors," Archie said.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy across the table. "Watch yourself, Graye, I thought you liked us."

"Oh, I do, Potter, I just like winning even more than I like you."

"You wound me."

"Good."

"Speaking of wounds," Malfoy interrupted this time, "got your bed booked in the Hospital Wing, Weasley?"

We all waited for Ron to snap back, but instead, he just turned bright red.

"You're the one who'll be needing it, you sore loser," Hermione said.

"Reckon you've spent twice the time in the Hospital Wing that Ron has, Malfoy," I added. I adopted the tone of voice I usually reserved for young creatures and children with ten times the sarcastic bite. "You're the poor baby who got slashed by the big scary hippogriff you insulted. Remember when I had to take your notes for you because your hand hurt too much, you poor thing?"

Malfoy's face pinkened. "You've probably set records for time spent in the Hospital Wing, Scars, so I wouldn't talk."

Oh. Right. He knows.

I froze, but Harry didn't. "I'll personally ensure you break her record if you say one more word, Malfoy," he said fiercely, "so shove off."

"Is that a threat, Potter?"

Archie made a sound that sounded a lot like a ferret's squeak, and Malfoy's red face went suddenly pale. We all snorted at his reaction and returned to our work. The rest of the period passed uneventfully. Archie entertained us all by telling us about the Muggle origins of Halloween, and aside from the occasional derisive sigh from the pure-blood supremacists at the end of the table, it was quite the enjoyable discussion. At the very least, I thought we annoyed Draco and Pansy more than they annoyed us, which was a victory in my books.

When we made our way up to dinner, Alicia was there next to George, her eyebrows thankfully back to normal. Angelina was there, too, complaining to Fred about how unfair it was that Bletchley had gotten away without detention. I slid in between the twins and grinned at George.

"That was bloody impressive, that was," I said.

"We ought to add that spell to the list, Lu," Harry chuckled.

"Bloody hell, I can't do that! Let alone nonverbally!"

"And wandlessly. I could try to teach you ickle firsties," George added with a dramatic wink, "if you think you're up to the challenge."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could reply, someone cleared their throat behind me and I turned around.

"Sorry, Lucy, but this showed up in our dorm today," Henry said, handing me a package with a blue envelope tied on top. "It was on your brother's bed, I didn't recognize the owl."

"Thanks, Henry," I replied, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. The package was light in my hands, but I felt myself beginning to shake with the effort anyway, as if it were actually heavy. What on earth...

"Oh, and George, nice nonverbal hex, I heard about it from Archie just now," Henry added.

George grinned. "Thanks, I've been practicing."

Henry grinned back and returned to the Hufflepuff table.

I wanted nothing more than to run away and never touch the package again, but everyone was staring. At me, at my hands. Curious. Apprehensive. So with shaking hands, I opened the envelope and slipped out a small piece of parchment.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CEDRIC!
   Sorry this is a bit late, Jess and I were both on assignments with MACUSA on your actual birthday and couldn't send out owls. Top-secret, you know? Besides, this just extends the celebration!
   I hope you had a great day, mate! By American No-Maj standards, you're officially an adult, so that's neat! You and Lucy have to come back sometime soon. Maybe for Christmas or New Year's? You gotta see Tahoe in the snow. We could head to Squaw Valley for a day, it would be fun!
   Anyway, best of luck this Quidditch season, Seeker Boy! Bring a couple of your friends with you next time you come to the States, we can have a friendly competition. Hope you had a great birthday, write me soon! I miss talking to you!
      -Brandon Richardson

I shoved the note back into the envelope, not wanting to read Jessica's letter or look at the photographs they had apparently included. I shoved everything into my bookbag and took a deep breath before looking up at everyone.

"We, er, our—" I sighed shakily. "Our friends in America don't... don't know. That was, er, a belated birthday greeting. I'll have to write back tonight. Let them... let them know."

"What do you mean, they don't know?" Hermione asked.

"The Ministry, er..." I glanced down at my hands, fingers twisting around each other in an uncoordinated rush. "If you don't know anyone at Hogwarts and weren't part of the active effort to cover it up... you don't know. Some of Cedric's friends at St. Mungo's didn't know, even, they asked me why he hadn't written."

"Lucy, that's..." The words died on Ron's lips.

I shrugged. "It is what it is." I reached for my goblet and took a long drink. The rest of the Halloween feast passed in a blur for me. My mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of Brandon and Jessica and Lake Tahoe and Jet Skis and mountain hikes and warm sunshine and fireworks over the water and everything else about that magical summer without magic consumed me, pulling me back in time.

When the feast was over and everyone except Hermione headed off to Quidditch practice, I slipped through the darkness and cold to the Owlery. I wrote by the light of my wand, hands trembling and breath coming in shaky gasps as I tried in vain to push back the tears. Once the letter was finished, I pulled the notes and photographs out of the envelope and put my letter in the envelope instead, resealing it with a whispered spell and giving everything to Malachi. As he took off into the night, which was cloudy but not rainy, I read Jessica's note. It was much the same as her brother's.

Sorry for not writing sooner, MACUSA had both of us on secretive assignments.

I hope you had a great birthday!

Write back soon, I miss hearing from you.

You and Lucy should come back soon!

And so forth and so on.

Then I flipped through the photographs. A couple of shots of the lake itself. Autumn was all around, the red and orange and yellow leaves fluttered in the breeze, but the mountains on the horizon were the same. A photograph of Brandon and Jessica both flashing their MACUSA badges. And at the bottom, a photograph of that summer.

I had been the one to take it, I realized.

Cedric was laughing, his head thrown back as he braced himself up against the counter behind him. Brandon and Jessica appeared to be in the middle of a sibling scuffle, racing each other around the kitchen island and lunging across it occasionally. I had completely forgotten about that moment, and how funny it was. I had completely forgotten what Cedric looked like when he was laughing that hard, too.

I shoved everything into my pocket and hurried back to the castle. My feet guided me up to the Room of Requirement. I had a new addition to the bulletin board. A couple of new additions, actually.

Just as I rounded the corner, someone else rounded the opposite corner.

Harry didn't look terribly surprised to see me. "Are you doing alright?"

"Are you?"

Neither of us answered. We exchanged a long look before heading into the Room of Requirement together.

"I was, er," I stammered, pulling the small stack out of my pocket, "I was thinking maybe by including the notes from the Richardsons on the bulletin board, and maybe the picture from a couple summers ago, we might, er, remember what we're fighting to try to protect."

Harry nodded, fishing around in his own pocket. He pulled an old photograph out and showed me. "I was thinking maybe we could add this too, t-today being Halloween and all."

"Is this the original Order of the Phoenix?" I asked, studying it more closely.

"Yeah. Professor Moody gave it to me our last night at Grimmauld Place, during the party for Ron and Hermione. You don't mind if we put this up, do you?"

I shook my head. "Of course not."

Harry and I moved forward silently and attached the two photographs and two notes to the bulletin board.

It was rather full at that point. In the center of it all was the list of names beneath the title Dumbledore's Army. My mum's article was there, too, along with the newspaper clipping, the one sentence a week after the fact, that mentioned her death. Dad's hadn't been mentioned at all. Photographs filled the bulletin board, from Colin and from the Hufflepuffs and even from Archie. A couple of people had written notes, too. "I'm doing this for my younger siblings, so they don't have to be afraid the way I am right now." "I'm doing this for my uncles who died in the first war." "I'm so sorry, Cedric. You deserved so much better." "I feel closer to you when I do this, Cedric."

"I miss you." "We miss you." "Never again. Never ever again."

The photograph of the original Order went right next to the Dumbledore's Army roster. I stared at the picture, spotting Harry's parents immediately. At first glance, he did appear have his mother's eyes, and his father's everything else. But at the same time... not quite.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and looked back at the picture. Harry's eyes were more intense than his mum's. Lily's eyes danced. The moving picture showed clearly the way they flicked around the room, taking it all in. Like everything about magic was still new and exciting and wonderful to her. Harry's eyes didn't have quite the same wonder, at least not anymore. I reckoned seeing someone die so suddenly at the hands of magic would have that effect.

He wasn't exactly like his mum, but he wasn't exactly like his dad, either. James, even in a photograph for the Order of the Phoenix, had the confident and mischievous look of a boy with a frog in his pocket just itching for an opportunity to whip it out. I doubted a frog in a pocket would do much against the Death Eaters, but the look on his face seemed to suggest he'd be willing to give it a shot. He had the look of a man who would stop at nothing to protect what was his, even if he had to resort to something like a frog in a pocket. Or, well, turning a bully into a duck, maybe. It worked well enough for George against Bletchley earlier that day.

Harry had that same fierce loyalty, and I knew he would stop at nothing to protect what was his, but he didn't have that same confidence. Harry never had the benefit of being able to believe that everything would be okay. Harry had never known his parents. His life had been defined from the beginning by violence, murder. Then everything with the Dursleys. Then even at Hogwarts, danger had a way of finding him. When we worked together on the D.A. preparation, he wanted to use the flash-bang spells only because they had saved me. If not for that, we would have been working on something more serious than the Melefors Jinx the night before Halloween.

Harry, in his mind, couldn't afford to joke around. He couldn't have a frog in his pocket. It was impractical. I had noticed that same need for practicality every time we ran into a problem. If there was a practical solution, an obvious solution, he jumped on that. If he couldn't see a practical, obvious solution, he acted like he couldn't see the problem. That was the difference between the first task and the second task, for instance. As soon as we figured out a way to use the Summoning Charm, he didn't rest until he'd mastered it. With the egg, however, he waited until more or less the last second to try to figure it out.

Maybe Harry got his practicality from his mum. Maybe the Harry I saw sometimes, the one who called me an insomniac prat with a goofy smile, was a little bit more like his dad. Maybe this, maybe that, maybe maybe maybe. All I knew was that the boy beside me was my best friend, no matter why he was the way he was.

"They'd be proud of you, you know, your parents," I said.

"I hope so," he whispered back. "Sometimes, I'm not so sure."

"Well, I am." I reached my hand out for his, and our fingers intertwined. My eyes wandered over the picture, and I spied familiar grey eyes, and a familiar picture-perfect smile. Mum and Dad were in the Order of the Phoenix. How have I never realized? I took a step closer, to get a closer look, and Harry, hand still in mine, stepped forward too.

"Your family would be proud of you, too," Harry said. When I couldn't find words to say in reply, he squeezed my hand gently. "Magic and Muggle both."