𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒-ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℙ𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣❥

𝐇𝐁𝐏 𝟐𝟐

The fact that Harry Potter and Emily Lupin-Black were now back to their usual smitten ways seemed to interest a great number of people, most of them girls, yet Harry found himself newly and happily impervious to gossip over the next few weeks. After all, it made a very nice change to be talked about because of something that was making him happier than he could remember being for a very long time, rather than because he had been involved in horrific scenes of Dark Magic.

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," said Emily, as she sat on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's legs and reading the Daily Prophet. "Three dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a hippogriff tattooed across your chest."

Ron and Hermione both roared with laughter.

Harry ignored them, "What did you tell her?"

"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail," said Emily, turning a page of the newspaper idly. "Much more macho."

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning.

"So," Emily smiled as Ginny skipped out of the common room, a smile on her face, "how do you feel about Luna and Ginny?"

Surprisingly, a proud smile appeared on Ron's face, "It's nice. I mean, Luna could do better."

But Ginny and Luna's new relationship grew weaker as they moved into June, for their time together was becoming increasingly restricted.

One evening, Hermione dropped into the seat between Harry and Emily, Ron sat across them, with an unpleasantly purposeful look on her face.

"I want to talk to you, Harry."

"What about?" said Harry suspiciously. Only the previous day, Hermione had told him off for distracting Emily from her usual complete attendance to her lessons.

"The so-called Half-Blood Prince."

"Oh, not again," he groaned. "Will you please drop it?"

He had not dared to return to the Room of Requirement to retrieve his book, and his performance in Potions was suffering accordingly.

But Harry was sure that Snape had not yet given up hope of laying hands on the Prince's book, and was determined to leave it where it was while Snape remained on the lookout.

"I'm not dropping it," said Hermione firmly, "until you've heard me out. Now, I've been trying to find out a bit about who might make a hobby of inventing Dark spells —"

"He didn't make a hobby of it —"

"He, he — who says it's a he?"

"We've been through this," said Harry crossly. "Prince, Hermione, Prince!"

"Right!" said Hermione, red patches blazing in her cheeks as she pulled a very old piece of newsprint out of her pocket and slammed it down on the table in front of Harry. "Look at that! Look at the picture!"

Harry picked up the crumbling piece of paper and stared at the moving photograph, yellowed with age; Emily leaned over for a look too. The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was not pretty; she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Underneath the photograph was the caption: Eileen Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.

"So?" said Harry, scanning the short news item to which the picture belonged; it was a rather dull story about interschool competitions.

"Her name was Eileen Prince. Prince, Harry."

They looked at each other, and Harry realized what Hermione was trying to say. He burst out laughing.

"No way."