A whimper of pain issues from Harry's throat as he sat down, his back against a section of unbroken obsidian. He'd already cleared away the shards of broken stone. Ginny took a seat next to him.

"They'res two components to Occulemancy. First, is actually blocking people from getting into your brain, second is figuring out people are there in the first place."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" asked Ginny.

"Nope. If you don't have control over your brain, you can't even begin to figure out people are poking around in it, unless they're being really obvious about it. Now, step one! It's commonly called clearing your mind, but basically, it's pick a memory that you can focus on really well."

"What do you use?" asked Harry.

"Me? Oh, you don't want to know that," said Etna, with a sadistic gleam in her eye.

"Right, then. What should we use?"

"Harry, you are a teenage boy. What do you focus on very easily ?" Etna's sadistic glee reached her face as she watched Harry attempt to self-transfigure himself into a tomato. "Now, as for you, Ginerva. What do you focus on very easily?"

"Um," said Ginny, her own face taking on the same bright red color as Harry's.

"Good. Now, spend the next fifteen minutes holding those memories right in front of your mind. Do nothing but keep them there. Don't focus on something else, don't think about something else, just focus on that single memory."

Etna waited two minutes, before her eyes focused on Harry's. For five minutes she stared into his eyes, before nodding. She then focused on Ginny.

"Wow, and here I thought Harry was going to be the dirtier of you two." She looked away, glancing at Harry's crotch. "He's probably bigger than that. By the way, Harry, I'd recommend groping less, and rubbing more. Especially the nipples. Now, did either of you feel a thing?"

"No," squeeked Harry.

"Not really," muttered Ginny.

"Good. Now, I want you to sit in bed for about half an hour, and meditate on the memories that you want to use. Next time, I'm going to get mean. Now, finally, I want your help with getting our remaining two lovebirds to get over themselves, and back into this whole teamwork concept."

Two groans echoed through the Room of Requirements, as Etna dragged Harry and Ginny to their feet.

"Might I ask what you're doing?" asked Filius Flitwick, having turned a corner and found Harry levitating an unconscious Ron Weasley.

"Er… a fiendish plan to stop Ron and Hermione from arguing?" said Harry, following Etna's script exactly.

Flitwick nodded.

"Locking them in a broom closet until they either snog or kill each other?"

"Er… yeah."

"Etna's doing?" asked Filius.

"Yeah…" said Harry, trailing off, not wanting this to have been so transparent.

Flitwick "Hmm'd" as he considered this situation. It was getting rather annoying, the transparent bickering between the youngest Mister Weasley and Miss Granger.

"Miss Granger knows quite a number of unlocking charms. It might be I best if I make sure the door is secure," said Filius. "Come along."

"I think Etna knows a few…" said Harry, following.

"I'm sure I know a few more," said Filius.

They arrived at one of the less travelled broom closets, with all of the supplies secured in one corner.

"Oh, good, you did find him," said Etna, smiling.

"You planned for my presence, Miss de Malebolge?" asked Flitwick.

"Of course! Hermione knows way to many unlocking charms. Now, Ginny's got the timed envenerate down, we've got thirty seconds before they wake up. Ready?"

Harry levitated Ron into the closet, alongside Hermione. Ginny sent the spell, then Harry slammed the door. Filius started chanting in Latin, occasionally switching to Greek for short bursts. Etna chanted entirely in a language no one recognized, and thought it best not to try and identify. At forty-three seconds, there was banging from inside the closet.

"Hey, let us out!" shouted Ron.

"Not until you kiss and make-up," said Etna. "The wards'll either release come morning, or after a thorough snogging."

Etna raised an eyebrow at Filius. Filius nodded with a happy smile on his face.

"You can't be serious!" said Ron. They could hear Hermione muttering Latin incantations in the background.

"You're right! I'm not! But I'm pretty certain you're trapped in there," said Etna. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to drop a silencing charm on you, so that you don't get caught. Wouldn't want Dumbledore walking in on you, would you?"

Filius supplied a silencing charm that cut off Hermione's indignant squawk.

"Your cruelty knows no bounds, my dear," said Filius, giving a quick bow.

"Why thank you, Filius," said Etna, bowing back.

"Alright, children. Off to bed with all of you. We'll check on them in the morning!"

"Harry, wake up," said Ron. Harry grumbled awake, and then checked the time. Close to 3am.

"Ron, get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

"Harry, we need to talk."

"We can talk in the morning, Ron."

"That wasn't funny, what you guys did."

"No, but it got you and Hermione to stop arguing, right?"

"Well… um… maybe," said Ron. "Personally, I think we just like arguing with each other."

Harry attempted to look at his first friend while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It didn't work to well, since he wasn't wearing his glasses, either.

"Alright, I'm awaken enough to deal with this. What's wrong?"

"Harry, me and Hermione… well, we talked. I mean, I know you and Ginny are together, but… I mean… it was like kissing Mum."

Harry realized he was not awake enough to deal with this, but knew better than to try and sleep.

"Mum, Harry! She… she… she nagged me! About how we were snogging! She actually nagged me about snogging! "

Harry really wanted to go back to bed.

"I mean… there's just… there's just… there's just no words for it, Harry. All I could think of was Mum's voice, nagging about snogging . My dick retreated into my body, Harry. I could feel my bollocks hiding in my bloody lungs. I only managed it because she wanted to get out of that bloody closet."

Harry checked the time again. It was only slightly later than 3am. Ron showed no sign of stopping, and it sounded like he might wake up Dean or Seamus. He recalled Hermione saying something about a saving people thing, as he dragged himself out of the bed. What was a little sleep?

Harry felt only slightly better than an inferi when he sat down for breakfast. At no point did he reach for coffee. He dealt with worse, and he wasn't about to start giving in to that temptation.

Ron was sitting next to him, poking his food, and occasionally shuttering at whatever horrors his imagination came up with. Harry, meanwhile, had reached the point of automation, where he could perform actions with must of his brain shut down. It was a useful skill, especially while gardening. He hadn't really perfected it while eating, but he figured now was a good time to practice.

Ginny looked on with sympathy, while Hermione sat with them, glaring past Harry at Etna. She was sitting with Luna, chatting about something best left un-determined. Hermione was quiet. Utterly silent. Harry guessed she was attempting to determine some manner of revenge that would not end in her own demise in the Room of Requirement.

Given what happened to the twins, everyone doubted this was going to happen.

Draco wasn't a complete idiot. He knew better, at least, than to try and gather the rumors himself. Instead, he approached the one person who wouldn't question him, and also had enough of a brain to still do it.

"Pansy, what rumors are there about the American mudblood?"

"A few," said Pansy, thinking a moment. "I'll talk with Daphne and Tracy, see what they can come up with."

"Thank you," said Draco, smiling a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His father had taught him that one. Pansy paid it no mind, and instead went off to her dorm to chat with the other girls.

While he waited, Draco scratched out on the parchment what he personally knew of the girl, and what was rumor.

The girl had arrived with Potter and his lot. She lived in America, but was born in England. She had a massive temper, and was extraordinarily skilled with offensive magics and curses. That, and she had arrived at the school with Harry Potter.

Everyone was surprised when Luna Lovegood showed up for practice that evening.

"I said I liked her, and I meant I was going to keep her," was all Etna had to say, and paired her with Hermione.

"So who am I being worked over with?" asked Ron.

"Find someone," replied Etna. "Find some trustworthy and driven. For now, I want you to think about that."

"Why're you so big on this whole pairing up, thing?"

"Easy. You're only human."

"Does this mean my father gets his interview?" begged Luna.

"No."

"Damn," said Luna. "Come along, Hermione, we face the demon in it's den. I've never done this before. Perhaps you can save me as a damsel in distress?"

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

Luna proved to be unconventional. She didn't know the supply of offensive magic that Hermione was studying, but she had unnerving accuracy and a library of spells so large she rarely used the same one twice. Few of them were dangerous, but all of them were distracting, allowing Hermione a chance to really work over Etna.

"I think, Hermione," said Etna, swatting aside a glittering silver wedge that left a four meter trench in the wall behind her, "that you need to teach Miss Lovegood a vicious streak." She then sent a wall of water at the pair of them. Luna waved her wand, quickly coughing a series of notes, and the wall froze into ice.

Hermione paused only long enough to realize what happened, then began blasting the ice at Etna. Etna summoned a wall of flame in response, letting the ice steam and hiss, while using her own blasting curses back. Luna shielded, charmed, and deflected the ice, while Hermione continued her barrage of loftily considered violence. Hermione was smiling, as she sent that rainbow assortment of curses and hexes at Etna. She wanted to hurt Etna, smash her for trapping her in that closet with Ron, making her actually kiss him. She hated him! Didn't want anything to do with him! Sure, they argued, but that didn't mean squat. It meant they argued. Granted, she liked arguing, she liked it a lot, but that didn't mean she wanted to do anything with whoever she was arguing with.

Now, though, Luna was letting her pulverize that damn demonic bitch. And it was wonderful .

"Those two are really getting into it," commented Ginny, from the observation platform. It now had some sort of transparent, unbreakable substance on it. Harry had overheard some of her conversation with Etna about it, and he had been confused about why a guy named Larry, puppets, and ship hulls were part of that conversation. He supposed Hermione had gone on her usual tangent, and just avoided the conversation altogether when she started talking about anti-matter and (he guessed) house elves. The fact she was waving a paperback book, for once, just added to the weirdness of the conversation.

"Which two?" asked Harry, watching as Luna flicked aside another of Etna's flame projections with what looked like one of Mrs Weasley's cooking charms.

"Hermione and Luna. They work pretty well together."

"Yeah," said Harry. "If Hermione does teach Luna some of the shield spells she knows, you think they'd be as good as us?"

"Maybe," said Ginny. "They'll have to practice a lot, first."

"Well, duh. That's why Etna's going to easy on them. To let them get used to each other."

Ginny stared at the fighting below them for a minute, watching as Etna took a few blows she'd normally dodge, underpowering several spells, and using chains of spells that were far kinder than her usual repertoire.

"She is going easy on them," muttered Ginny. Harry suspected there may have been a mumbled "that bitch " in there as well, but he wasn't entirely sure.

Ron, meanwhile, was sitting in the dorm, wondering just who Etna would define as "trustworthy and driven." It didn't matter much, at the moment, but he knew he'd have to find someone. Who, then?

Granted, Etna seemed to think Luna was "trustworthy and driven," and she was insane. Then again, they were both insane. Who did Ron know that was insane? He fell asleep with this thought in mind.

When he awoke the next morning, Ron went to the bathroom, sat upon the porcelain throne, and pondered. Contrary to Hermione's thinking, he was not incapable of thinking. It's just that he did it on the pot, because it was only place in the Burrow you could get any peace and quiet. When you get used to a method of thinking, well, that was how you did your thinking, right?

Trustworthy and driven.

What did Etna mean by that?

He knew different people ( especially women) meant different things when they said something. So Ron considered just what Etna said, by looking at who she'd picked. Which was Luna.

How the hell was Luna "trustworthy and driven"?

Wait. Luna was a Ravenclaw. She had to have good grades. That could be the driven. He'd have to check the grades for the fourth years. Trustworthy, though? Maybe… Etna and Luna were both nutters, could that be Etna's definition of trustworthy?

It did follow whatever passed for logic in Ron's mind, and in Ron's construct of Etna's mind. He supposed he'd have to check the student grades. Hermione had done it enough times for him to know how.

After breakfast, though. Research had to be done on a full stomach.

Snape's breakfast hadn't settled in his stomach properly. Granted, that could be because he had glanced at the youngest Weasley boy as he ate, but Snape liked to think his stomach was made of sterner stuff that that. He supposed the Weasley twins could have finally managed to poison him, but they'd stopped trying that back in their fourth year.

In a fit of annoyance and pique, Snape made the foolish mistake of taking the surface thoughts of his Gryffindor/Slytherin Potions class.

Granger, per the usual, was entirely focused on her work, although the occasional glimpse of cloudy gray eyes drifted through. Draco was occluded, as he was supposed to be, but still seemed nervous about something. Potter was rather focused on the youngest Weasley's breasts, although he was still performing rather admirably on his potion. Snape focused a little harder, and could only run up against this wet dream of his, and absolutely nothing about the potion. Perhaps a form of occlusion? Snape supposed he'd have to give the boy an A, maybe even an EE, rather than his usual P.

Weasley… Weasley was pondering a list of some of the brightest witches, and pondering just which of them was as insane as the Lovegood girl. Snape wondered, idly, what brought this on, and it turned out Weasley was looking for a training partner that the demon would find suitable.

Snape felt the headache come on just from the logic behind that line of thinking.

As the lesson finished, Draco took his time packing, sending the two bookends Lucius had onwards to their next class. Snape took his time, as well, examining a few of the potions. Potters was, in fact, superb. Definitely O material, although he'd never give the brat the satisfaction. As soon as the room was cleared, Draco immediately approached his desk, and spoke.

"Uncle Severus, I have a question."

"Ask it, Draco."

"Is Etna de Malebolge really the Dark Lord's daughter?"

It was at this point, that Snape wondered just what the Weasley twins had finally smuggled into his breakfast.