Chapter 7

Keeping my back close to the wall, I snuck along the school corridor, freezing every time I heard a sound. The problem with creeping around Hogwarts at night was that every time the portraits made the slightest noise, my heart would stop and I'd hardly dare to breathe. Not to mention the possibility of a portrait being awake and yelling aloud to Filch that there was a student out of bed. With my nerves tight from the anxiety, I was sure I'd jump if a portrait so much as breathed audibly.

I ghosted down the stairs, keeping a wary eye out for either professors on duty or the other three students I was expecting. As I hopped off the last step, a small cough made me flinch violently and duck behind the nearest statue.

I peered around the statue's wide girth cautiously. Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher, was standing in front of the room, gazing around the dark halls. Despite the fact that she was holding her wand at arm's length, she looked rather bored.

Cursing under my breath, I moved until my head was out of sight and pondered the situation. Headmistress McGonagall must have suspected that there was something strange about the room if she decided to ask a professor to guard it at night. But what, and who, did she suspect?

Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned around and Edward crouched down beside me, also careful to keep out of Professor Vector's range of vision. His pale face, drawn with nervousness, was illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the oculus in the ceiling. It was bright enough that I could see the individual black hairs on his head.

"Professor Vector's guarding the room," I said accusingly.

"I didn't know that, Headmistress McGonagall doesn't tell me everything just because I'm a prefect," he hissed in exasperation.

"Fine," I said shortly. "How are we going to get past her, then?"

Edward frowned in contemplation. "Is there another entrance?"

"Not that I know of. Besides, she'd still hear us once we walk into the room." I studied the situation, then withdrew my wand. "I've got an idea, but you're not going to like it."

He eyed my wand suspiciously. "Since I don't have any ideas, go ahead," he sighed.

I angled my wand so that only the tip would be visible to Professor Vector if she had been looking straight at the statue we were hiding behind. Aiming it toward her chest, I whispered, "Stupefy."

The red light crackled as it zoomed towards her. Professor Vector's eyes widened in alarm and she whipped out her wand, but she wasn't fast enough. The spell struck her in the chest and she toppled backwards. Her body collided with the stone wall and slumped to the ground. The resulting crash echoed throughout the corridor, and I winced. I hadn't thought about the noise that would occur once she fell.

"Are you insane?!" seethed Edward. "You just attacked a teacher!"

"How else were we supposed to get in?" I whispered harshly, standing up and hurrying to Professor Vector's side. I bent over her and spotted the rise and fall of her chest. "See, she's fine."

"She's unconscious, that is not fine. When she wakes up she's going to report you and we'll all be expelled!"

"Bloody hell, now you're just overreacting-only I would get expelled! But I know a variation of the Rennervate spell that will only revive her fifteen minutes after we're gone," I informed him. "That way we'll all be long gone by the time she wakes up, and she won't know it was me."

Before he could utter another protest, I hurried into the room and looked around. It had definitely been cleaned since the four of us had left it a week ago. The marble and wood shards had been removed, and the scent of lemon oil-no doubt a teacher's Air-Freshening Charm-lingered in the air. The only sign that it was the same room we'd stumbled into Halloween night was the black rune etched on the floor in the centre of the room.

Edward followed me inside, and Connor materialized beside him.

"I didn't know the plan had been modified to include a comatose teacher," joked Connor, gesturing at Professor Vector's prone form.

"She was guarding the room," I explained. "So I knocked her out."

He shook his head. "Just because Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw in Quidditch yesterday doesn't mean you have all the luck in the world."

"Not luck," I said smugly. "Just skill."

His expression turned serious. "Why would Headmistress McGonagall assign a guard, though? I doubt they're expecting an intruder to break in, and since she hires all the professors, I'm assuming she trusts them. So the only people she would be expecting are…"

"Students," Edward supplied. "And we're the only ones that she knows have a connection to this room."

That was worrying. "Maybe the teachers discovered something important in here," I said, appraising the room more warily than before. "Something that linked back to us."

"Well, if they did, there's only one way to find out," said Connor. "Let's start searching."

Just as I tucked my wand back into my sleeve, I heard running footsteps into the hall. All three of us glanced at the doorway.

"Maybe it's Maia?" I said uncertainly.

"I don't think she's idiotic enough to be running around at 1:00 in the morning," Edward pointed out.

I tensed as the footsteps grew closer and closer. Then Professor Hill, my Muggle Studies professor, entered the scene and came to a halt beside Professor Vector, gazing at her in shock. "Septima! What-"

His horrified look swung from her to us, and his jaw dropped. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"We, er, needed to come into this room," I said.

"In the middle of the night?" said Professor Hill. "What could be worth attacking a teacher? You could be expelled!"

"We-"

"Is Headmistress McGonagall right about you four, then?"

I froze, aware of Connor and Edward stiffening beside me. "What did she say about us?" I asked carefully.

Professor Hill opened his mouth to answer, but a voice cried, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Professor Hill's limbs snapped to his side and he face-planted onto the floor, revealing Maia standing behind him with her wand outstretched.

"Glad I got to join in on the fun," she said dryly upon spotting Professor Vector's motionless body.

I rushed to Professor Hill's side and turned him over. His shocked eyes met mine, and I felt a twinge of guilt. I was tempted to revive him just so he could answer my question, but I was pretty sure that was a stupid idea.

Glancing back to where Connor and Edward were standing, I said, "Bloody hell. He's seen us. What now?"

"I really, really don't want to do this, but…" Edward sighed and approached us, staring at Professor Hill with a look of regret. I had never seen Edward make that face before; whatever he was about to do must be really unprincipled.

"Professor Hill, I'm really, really sorry for what I'm about to do," said Edward.

In one fluid motion, he drew his wand and aimed at Professor Hill's forehead. "Obliviate!"

I gaped first at him, then Edward, as Professor Hill's eyes grew glassy and unfocused. Edward nudged me with his foot and said urgently, "You still need to Stun him."

I blinked. "Right," I said, pulling out my wand again. "Stupefy."

Professor Hill's eyes closed, and his head lolled to one side. I slowly straightened, all my senses numbed after what had just transpired.

"Since when can you perform a Memory Charm?" I demanded.

"About ten seconds ago," he said shakily. "I know the incantation and the theory on how to cast it, but I've never actually done it before."

"Based on the vacant stare Professor Hill developed, I'm pretty sure it worked," said Connor. He and Edward had the same look of immense shame on their faces, while Maia was expressionless as always. I briefly wondered what I looked like. "We'd better look around quickly, before any other teachers arrive."

"Right," I said, giving myself a shake. I strode over to the rune in the centre of the room and crouched down beside it. It looked exactly as I remembered it, though knowing now that it meant 'element', the fact that it gave us our tattoos, and that it had basically sentenced us to death ruined the nostalgic moment.

I poked it with my wand, expecting the rune to start wriggling like before. But nothing happened.

"It's not working," I announced.

"Maybe it senses that we've already been branded, thus it won't activate," Connor suggested.

"Or it only works once," said Maia.

"Wait," I said suddenly, moving closer to the rune. "It's changing."

The rune, rather than writhing like last time, was fading. As soon as it faded completely, it began rematerializing into the Hogwarts crest, but instead of the normal animal symbols gracing the insignia, there were handprints.

I immediately place my hand over the Gryffindor one, and after a moment of hesitation, the other three placed their hands over their respective Houses. The crest glowed bright white, rivalling the moonlight shining through the window, and it expanded until it grew into the familiar white circle traced onto the floor around our feet.

As the four different sections of the circle flashed the element colours-red, white, brown, blue-a loud crack in the wall behind us drew our attention. The brick wall was splitting apart, stones falling onto the ground, and I realized it was exposing a hidden compartment concealed inside. After one final rumble, the wall stopped shifting and became silent. I glanced back at the professors' prone bodies, then stepped out of the circle. Last time, I hadn't been able to because of some invisible barrier, but this time there was no such obstruction.

I walked over to the newfound hole inside the wall and looked inside. It was bigger than I expected, about two feet wide and one foot deep. At the bottom of the compartment there was an ancient roll of parchment that must have been enchanted; it should have crumbled to dust ages ago. I carefully withdrew the roll and squinted at it.

The other three crowded around me as I muttered "Lumos", unrolled the parchment, and promptly groaned. "You've got to be joking!" I fumed. "It's written in bloody runes. Rowena Ravenclaw had to make it as hard as possible?!"

Connor grinned happily at the challenge. "That's fine. I'm taking Ancient Runes, remember? I should be able to decode it."

"I can help," Edward offered. "I'm taking Ancient Runes too, though I'll probably drop it next year."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it's boring and I don't need it for my future career," replied Edward.

Connor looked scandalized that any class could be considered boring, but Edward ignored it and the two bent their heads over the parchment, murmuring softly under their breath.

I looked over at Maia, who was standing a few feet away with her arms crossed. She noticed my raised eyebrows and said, "What?"

I gestured at Professor Hill. "Nice Full Body-Bind curse."

Her lips curved into a smirk. "Thanks. Your Stupefy isn't half bad either, Weasley."

I supposed coming from her, that was a compliment.

"It's not the potion recipe," said Edward, disappointment evident in his voice.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Rowena started off with a greeting to, in her words, 'the new Elementum Quadrumvirate', and immediately said that this is not the potion recipe," stated Connor.

I found that very, very, creepy. "Damn, it's like she reading our minds," I said.

"More like anticipating exactly what would happen," said Connor, rolling up the parchment and tucking it into his robes. "I'll finish deciphering this in the morning-"

"It is the morning," I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. "Later on today, then. If I'm tired when decoding this, I might make mistakes, and I don't fancy staying out here any longer than we have to."

"Good point," said Edward, eyeing the unconscious professors in the doorway.

Connor reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out another sheaf of parchment, this one significantly shorter. "I revised your essay after you gave it to me yesterday morning. It wasn't…terrible."

I regarded the many mistakes he'd corrected, as well as the notes he'd added on the side. "Somehow, I doubt that. But thanks anyway."

The four of us dragged the professors' bodies farther into the room, so that any random passerby hopefully wouldn't see them before they woke up. I lightly touched my wand to both of their temples and said, "Rennervate Tempore."

Their bodies jerked, but other than that they didn't stir. Connor glanced at me worriedly. "You're sure they'll wake up?"

"Yes, I've used the spell before," I said.

"When did you use-"

"Never mind that," I said hurriedly. "Edward, maybe you'd better modify Professor Vector's memory too, or she'll remember being attacked."

"Right," he said, aiming his wand at her forehead and hesitating for only a split second before murmuring the incantation.

Since Professor Vector's eyes remained closed, we couldn't be sure that the Memory Charm worked. However, we agreed that if Edward managed it the first time, he'd probably succeeded the second time. So we darted out of the room and quietly rushed back to our dormitories under the cover of night.

Just before crawling into bed, I reached into my nightstand and took a long sip from the bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. I fell back onto my pillow, closed my eyes, and let sleep wash over me.


As I chewed my breakfast, I snuck peeks at Professor Vector and Professor Hill sitting at the staff table. Both appeared normal, and Professor Vector even laughed at something Professor Jaron said. I didn't know how people usually reacted after having their memories modified, but the other professors didn't seem to notice anything wrong.

I glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, where Connor was doing the same thing as me out of the corner of his eye. He caught my look and nodded, which I took to mean, Edward's Memory Charm must have worked.

I nodded back in agreement and returned to my crumpet. I was reluctantly impressed by Edward's ability to cast the charm, especially since I wasn't sure what we would have done otherwise. Likely Headmistress McGonagall would have announced a possible attacker roaming the halls of Hogwarts.

The thought of Headmistress McGonagall reminded me of the fact that she had suspected we'd return to the room. Whatever she had deduced, Professor Hill had known too, which meant the whole staff knew. I was burning with curiosity over what she thought we were up to, but I wasn't on great terms with any of the staff, except for maybe Professor Jaron.

After I finished eating, I headed to Potions class along with the other third-year Gryffindors. As I walked behind them, staring at the backs of their heads, it struck me that I barely knew any of them. I could place names with their faces, but if anyone asked me what they were like, I wouldn't have been able to answer-except for Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor. Then I'd be able to unleash a string of negative characteristics.

The first time I'd embarked on the Hogwarts Express, I had been more nervous than I had let on. I was the first Weasley in my generation to attend Hogwarts, and I had felt certain expectations keenly. I didn't think my relatives meant it, but when their jokes were along the lines of "Weasleys are always Gryffindors!", it was hard not to feel any pressure.

But when I'd boarded the train, I'd chosen a compartment with two other first-year girls, and we'd become friends even before all three of us were Sorted into Gryffindor. I'd spent all my free time with them, not bothering to become acquainted with any of the other students because I'd never dreamed my friends would ever be gone from my side.

I was so lost in thoughts of the past that I nearly walked into the door of the Potions dungeon. After glancing around quickly to make sure no one had witnessed my near-mishap, I strode to the back of the classroom and dumped my bag on the desk, almost causing my inkwell to spill over the top.

Professor Slughorn walked in shortly afterwards, a jovial smile on his face. "Hello, third-year Gryffindors and Slytherins! Today you're going to be making the Girding Potion!"

The majority of the class groaned. The Girding Potion was notoriously difficult, and even the fourth-year students frequently complained when asked to brew it.

"Yes, yes, I know it's hard, especially for third-year students," said Professor Slughorn cheerfully, not sounding bothered in the slightest. "That's why you will be working in partners today. To encourage everyone to do their best, whichever team brews the best potion will win a prize. After you find a partner, one of you should collect the necessary ingredients from the cupboard while the other prepares the cauldron. You have-" he consulted his gold watch- "one hour!"

The class erupted into a frenzy as everyone scrambled to grab a partner and rush to the student cupboard to get the best ingredients. My gaze swivelled around the room, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach as more and more people were partnered.

As I scanned the room desperately, trying to find someone not partnered, my eyes landed on Fatima, who was sitting at her desk by herself and doing the same as me. I noticed Judy and Eleanor a few feet away, chattering happily and pretty much ignoring their other friend.

I checked the rest of the class, but everyone else seemed to have a partner. Suppressing a groan, I looked back at Fatima and my eyes locked onto her brown ones. She tilted her head questioningly, and with no other option, I shrugged.

Without a backward glance, she headed to the front to collect whatever ingredients were still left. I pointed my wand at the element underneath my cauldron and muttered, "Incendio."

A large burst of flame shot out from my wand, nearly setting the entire cauldron alight. I swore and quickly decreased the amount of energy I was channeling into the spell until the fire resembled mere embers.

Fatima walked over to me with a hesitant expression on her face. Her arms were laden with the necessary ingredients which, judging by the smell, were several months old. "Is this okay? You and I working together?" she asked hesitantly, tugging absentmindedly on her bright red headscarf.

"It's not like we have a choice," I said with forced indifference. No, I wasn't overly fond of working with Fatima, but I'd rather work with her than Judy or Eleanor. At least Fatima had brains.

After she dropped the ingredients on my desk, I took out my textbook from my bag and flipped to the correct page. The Girding Potion was supposed to give the drinker extra endurance for several weeks, but according to my father, when he brewed it at Hogwarts he drank it before a Quidditch match and ended up in the hospital wing with painful sores along his legs. Considering he passed N.E.W.T.-level Potions with an E, I didn't have much hope with my mediocre potion-making skills.

Fatima dropped the fairy wings into the cauldron, which sizzled and instantly turned bright turquoise. She peered at it, looking startled. "Isn't it supposed to boil for a few minutes before turning changing colour?"

I checked the recipe. "Yes, it says the time changes depending on the fire's temperature…" I trailed off as I remembered that I had cast the spell. I had nearly forgotten my Incendio spell was hotter than most other fires.

"That's really cool," said Fatima. "Well, not cool. Hot, I guess?"

I gave her a strange look. Her cheeks turned pink, and she busied herself with measuring the correct weight of the doxy eggs. She was acting weird, but I supposed anyone who was friends with Judy must be odd and possibly vicious. I'd never interacted with Fatima much when she wasn't accompanying her friends, but I hadn't forgotten that it was she who had levitated me into a broom closet and allowed Judy to shut me inside. After one last squint in her direction, I reached for the knife she'd brought from the cupboard and started chopping the dragonfly thoraxes.

We spent the next fifty minutes brewing the potion in silence, alternating lines in the recipe. Finally, I dropped three flying seahorses in the cauldron, and Fatima began stirring the potion. The concoction gradually changed from navy blue to lime green, just like the book described. I had to admit that Fatima was very good at Potions, but that didn't mean I wanted to partner with her again.

"And time's up!" said Professor Slughorn as an alarm on his watch started beeping frantically. He tapped the device with his wand, and it quickly fell silent. "Let's see how you all did."

He walked around the classroom, muttering audible comments about everyone's potions. A few received a hearty smile, including ours. In the end, he pointed at Jonathan Yaxley and Victor Nott and declared them the winners. As the two Slytherins snickered gleefully, I glanced at their cauldron and grudgingly conceded that their potion did look better than ours.

Professor Slughorn reached into his coat pocket and withdrew two large slabs of Honeydukes Finest Chocolate, handing them to Jonathan and Victor. The two greedy Slytherins exchanged huge grins.

"Since I distinctly recall not giving any homework last week, I want all of you to hand in a three-foot-long essay on the Girding Potion's advantages and disadvantages for next week. Class dismissed!"

I groaned aloud. It seemed like every time I finished writing an essay, one of my professors would assign a new one. It was a good thing Connor already finished editing my Charms essay for me-it was going to save a lot of time. As the rest of the class filed out of the room, I went to the front of the class and approached Professor Slughorn.

"Professor," I called.

He glanced at me. "Miss-er-Weaver, is it?"

I shook my head. "Weasley, actually. Have you ever heard of the Revermal Potion?"

Professor Slughorn frowned. "No, can't say I have. Why?"

I inwardly cursed. Since Professor Slughorn was an older man with a vast knowledge of different potions, I had hoped he might have at least an inkling of the Revermal Potion. But if even he had never heard of it, then chances were the Founders never shared the potion recipe with anyone.

"No reason, just curious," I said quickly, hoping that was reasonable enough to deter suspicion.

He nodded and waved his wand, sending his unpacked belongings zooming back into his trunk. "Curiosity can be a powerful ally, Miss Weasley, but it can also lead to one's downfall," he remarked. At my puzzled look he clarified, "An old colleague of mine once told me that. It was a lesson I…hadn't fully comprehended at the time."

As I thought about the statement, he closed his trunk and locked the clasp. He hoisted it onto his shoulder and I noted, "That reminds me of a similar quote, something like 'curiosity killed the cat.'"

Professor Slughorn chuckled. "Yes, I do believe that's a Muggle saying. Interesting how despite hundreds of years of separation between us and them, we still learn the same morals from life. It's a pity we can't learn more from each other."

I gaped at him, but fortunately he didn't notice. Professor Slughorn glanced at his watch and jumped. "Goodness, it's already lunchtime! Good day, Miss Weasley," he said.

"Good day, Professor," I automatically replied. I walked out of the dungeon feeling surprised, and not because Professor Slughorn had gotten my name right for the first time. I had assumed all Slytherins was prejudiced against Muggles, yet the Head of Slytherin House himself wished to become more knowledgeable about them.

Not feeling hungry, I strode up the stairs, thinking I could finish the Charms essay Connor revised for me, for once on time for class tomorrow. After walking up all seven stories, I headed in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. I turned the corner and was almost there when I glimpsed a familiar figure standing in front of a window further down the hall.

I considered pretending I hadn't seen him and just walking into my dormitory, but then the figure turned and spotted me standing in the middle of the hallway. Letting out a sigh, I approached him and said diplomatically, "Edward."

"Victoire," he answered.

"Why are you here? Isn't it lunch time?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't hungry and came up to do homework."

"You actually do your homework?"

"Yes I do, believe it or not," I said, scowling. "I haven't been expelled yet. So…what are you doing here?"

He glanced out the window beside him, a large stained glass artpiece depicting a blonde woman picking flowers beside a riverbank. Every so often, the woman would look up and wink at Edward.

"I was thinking about last night," he said finally. "Yes, we snuck out after curfew and you Stunned two teachers, which is already against the rules, but I modified their memories. That's like ten times worse; usage of the Memory Charm is regulated by the Ministry of Magic, and I used it carelessly."

"It wasn't careless," I shot back. "You had a perfectly good reason to use it."

"But-"

"No buts! You didn't have any other choice, and if you hadn't used the Memory Charm all four of us would have been given detention for the rest of our lives, not to mention I would have been skinned alive by Headmistress McGonagall for getting into trouble for the third time this week. You saved our hides with that charm and it's already happened, so there's no use beating yourself up about it!"

"She wouldn't have skinned you alive," he said bluntly.

I exhaled. "I was exaggerating! Is that all you took from that?"

Edward regarded me quizzically, and I realized I had just defended him from himself, even though I hated him. But if I was being completely honest, I didn't really hate him anymore. I still didn't like him, but the former loathing I had felt for him was mostly gone.

"Did you know that you think in black and white?" he said.

"What?"

"When your mind is presented with a situation, you see it as one way or the other. There's no grey area for you." He looked at me in contemplation. "Like when you're provoked. For you, it's either fight or flight-you don't even think of any other options."

I opened my mouth to deny it, but even I recognized a grain of truth in his words. He'd basically just repeated what Headmistress McGonagall had told me two days ago. Plus, Maia had told me her adopted mother had married a former Death Eater without being a Slytherin herself, which did seem incomprehensible to me.

So instead I simply stated, "Shut up."

He grew sober and crossed his arms, returning his gaze to the world outside the window.

"If my problem is black-and-white thinking, then your problem is that you take everything too seriously," I said. As he tilted his head to look at me, I added, "Like when I jokingly tell you to shut up. You actually shut up instead of telling me to sod off."

A small smile graced Edward's features, and his previously auburn hair gradually turned yellow. "I'll keep that in mind next time you tell me shut up. But yes, I know I'm too serious. In almost everything I do, I set personal goals and nearly always achieve them, but in my determination I tend to forget to do anything else. My friends would testify for that."

"Can you make 'not dying from a bloody curse' one of those goals?"

He snorted. "I could, but I doubt it would help much. Right now I'm just hoping the document Connor deciphered says something about the Revermal potion, even just a hint. Otherwise we're at a dead end."

"A literally dead end," I said.

"That was a terrible pun," said Edward, shaking his head. I couldn't help grinning.

"Hey! Teddy!"

I turned around and saw Aedan Vance, another Hufflepuff fifth-year and a friend of Edward's, rush up to him. I had nearly forgotten most other people referred to him as Teddy. I called him that, and ever since Connor started hanging out with me, he referred to him as Edward too, but as far as I knew we were the only ones.

"Where were you?" said Aedan.

"I wasn't hungry, so I skipped lunch," said Edward. "Why?"

"We were supposed to go to the library together after lunch to work on our Arithmancy project?" said Aedan with a raised eyebrow.

"Damn, I forgot about that," said Edward, wincing. "I'll go with you now. See you later, Victoire."

"I hope not," I countered. "But I reckon I haven't got much choice."

"Victoire? Victoire Weasley?" said Aedan, his sharp green eyes locking onto me. His face crinkled into a devious grin. "The so-called bane of Teddy's existence?"

"Aedan!" snapped Edward, his cheeks and hair turning an interesting shade of red.

"Is that what he calls me?" I said curiously.

"Amongst other things, but I don't want to say those in front of a third-year student-"

"Aedan, we're going to the library," said Edward firmly, grabbing Aedan's arm and trying to drag him away.

"Fine, fine," said Aedan with a chuckle as the two walked away.

I wasn't sure what to think of this revelation that I was the 'bane of Edward's existence', but I decided to wear it like a badge of honour. Sometimes Edward was so inscrutable that it was hard to tell how annoyed he was, but if my abrasive personality got under his skin, I considered that an impressive achievement.


"Victoire, can I ask you something?"

I lowered my wand and frowned at Connor from across the duelling area. "I'm in the middle of teaching you a spell, for a duelling lesson you asked for. This question can't wait for later?"

"I suppose it can, but I'm worried I might forget to ask you later," he explained.

I heaved a sigh. "Fine. We've been practicing for half an hour, anyway. Let's take a break."

Connor smiled in relief and stowed his wand in his pocket. I made my way to the plush sofa the Room of Requirement had provided and sat down. The soft cushions easily gave way, allowing me to sink into them. "What's the question?"

"I remember reading somewhere that Veela have natural fire powers that manifest when they're angry," he said, sitting on the armchair across from me. "Since you're one-eight Veela, did you have any control over fire before?"

"No. Only full-blooded Veela can shoot fire and turn into demons," I replied. "Part-Veela only inherit the ability to attract the opposite gender, but the potency decreases with each generation as the Veela blood becomes diluted. My mother could use the ability sometimes, but I've never been able to. My siblings don't show any signs, either."

"You have siblings?" he asked.

"Younger sister and brother," I said, smiling fondly as memories of them popped into my mind. "Dominique's in her first year, but she's attending Beauxbatons. She prefers speaking French and she hates the cold, and my parents realized she'd be happier there. Louis is eight. He's funny and adorable, and he's wanted to come to Hogwarts ever since I came back after my first year." I glanced at Connor. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, I'm an only child," he replied. "My parents were really busy and they still found time to raise me, but I don't think they could have handled another child."

I stared at him. "You're talking in past tense," I said slowly. "Are your parents-"

"No! No, they're not dead," said Connor quickly. "They're in perfect health. I-er-meant that I haven't seen them for a while, you know, since-er-this past summer."

I was certain Connor was hiding something about his parents, but we'd only been friends for just over a week. Pressing him for more information didn't seem right, at least not yet.

"All your relatives are really close, right?" asked Connor.

I nodded. "The Weasley family is huge-I've got more cousins than clothes-but we all see each other at Easter, Christmas, and several times over the summer." I decided not to mention that lately I'd been growing distant from all my relatives. If Connor noticed I didn't actually answer his question, he didn't mention it.

"And Edward is present as these gatherings?"

"Yes," I answered, glancing at him in understanding. "I know where you're going with this…now you're going to ask me how I ended up hating Edward since we saw each other so often."

Connor grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged."

I sighed, reclining back against the sofa. The Room of Requirement must have sensed our House allegiances, because the sofa was patterned scarlet and gold, while the armchair Connor was perched on was navy blue embroidered with bronze trimmings. Two banners bearing the Gryffindor lion and Ravenclaw eagle hung on opposite sides of the vaulted ceiling.

"Honestly, I don't really know myself," I said. "Since I was the oldest Weasley child, we sometimes played together, but our personalities clashed so much that it always ended in a fight. The first time I used magic was when I was seven; Teddy had caught me sneaking outside to fly after dark and he'd pissed me off by lecturing me in that snooty voice of his. I…" I paused and frowned. "I set the hem of his pants on fire."

Connor snorted. "You really have an affinity for fire," he mused.

Now that I thought about it, it was true. Much of the magic I performed, intentional or not, was flame-based. "Have you ever done any unusual air-based magic?" I asked.

"Not before Halloween, but yesterday I thought I'd try this spell and, well, see for yourself." He grasped his wand and aimed it at the Ravenclaw banner. "Ventus!"

A powerful gust of wind rocketed from his wand with the force of a hurricane. The banner fluttered violently for a few seconds before being ripped away and collapsing onto the ground in a heap of blue and bronze. Even though the spell wasn't aimed at me, I felt a strong breeze brush past my face.

I stared at the ruined Ravenclaw banner. "That's like what happened with my Incendio spell," I said. "It was a lot stronger than usual."

"Well, according to Rowena, they're only going to get stronger from now on," said Connor.

"Until we die," I added ominously.

After the gravity of that fact sunk in, I got up and prodded him with my wand. "Break's over, jokester."

He stood without complaint, following me to the centre of the room and standing ten feet away from me. We both moved into the proper duelling positions on circles the Room had helpfully embedded onto the floor, and he instantly raised his wand. His forehead creased as he focused on me.

"Impedimenta!" he cried.

The turquoise light of the jinx flew towards me before dissipating in mid-air, strongly reminding me of our first duel together in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"Concentrate," I said. "It's not enough to just speak the words. You have to feel them."

Connor looked at me like I was insane. "I'm a Ravenclaw. We think rationally, and feeling spells doesn't make any sense."

"I'm a Gryffindor, but I'm the practically opposite of chivalrous," I pointed out. "Our Houses don't define us. Just because something doesn't make sense doesn't mean it's not possible."

He bit his lip nervously, but narrowed his eyes. "Impedimenta!" he said confidently.

This time, the crackling shaft of blue energy hurtled towards me without stopping. I let it strike me in the chest, and immediately felt the effects of the spell as time seemed to slow down around me.

A few seconds later, I recovered. Connor and I exchanged delighted smiles. "That was great!" I praised.

"Thanks," he replied, obviously thrilled.

"Really, it was," I said as I tucked my wand away. "They only teach Impedimenta in fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts and-"

"What's wrong with your hand?"

I realized that with the lack of occupied hands, I was absentmindedly nursing my left. "Oh, it's nothing. I accidentally burned myself yesterday."

He crossed the room and grabbed my wrist, turning my hand over to peer at the round burn mark. "With what? A flaming pestle?"

"No, a spark," I said. "From the Vermilious spell."

Connor looked puzzled. "But Vermilious isn't supposed to-"

"Produce heat, I know." I told him about my theory concerning element-based spells in relation to our powers.

He rocked back on his heels. "Possible. It makes a lot of sense, actually…that anything related to our sphere of elemental control is augmented in power. Interesting." Connor pondered this information for a few moments, then focused on me. "You should really get that burn looked at."

"It's not that bad," I protested. "It was a lot worse two days ago. See, I got burned here, too." I lifted the hem of my robes, exposing a ring of burns circling my right ankle. "I had detention with Hagrid yesterday morning and I had to feed his bloody Blast-Ended Skrewts. For some reason, they liked to shoot fire at my ankle. But these burns actually looked worse yesterday. I think my 'affinity for fire', as you phrased it, sped up the healing process."

"Really?" he said in surprise. "I'll have to check whether Rowena mentioned that in the 'Elememtum Quadrumvirate' book. I think I remember something about restorative properties. Still, Madam Pomfrey has burn-healing paste stored in the hospital wing and it'll at least soothe the pain, even if you're healing more quickly than normal."

"Fine," I relented. "I have some time before Quidditch practice-I'll stop by the hospital wing."

We packed our belongings and I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Hey, are you almost done decoding the parchment we found this morning?" I asked.

Connor grimaced. "Almost. Half the ink has faded over the centuries so I'm copying those runes onto a separate parchment to better decipher them, but it's taking longer than I thought. I should be able to finish tonight, though. Then the four of us can meet up tomorrow and I'll bring the translation."

"Sounds good," I said as we left the Room of Requirement. The large oak door rippled like water and vanished before our eyes. "Of what you've translated so far…is it hopeful?"

He thought about it. "Yes and no."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting until tomorrow," he said cheekily. "I have Ancient Runes now, bye!"

"You come back here, you git-"

Connor dodged my fingers and darted away before I could pull him back.

"That was a pathetic escape," I muttered under my breath. But I was worried by the possible reasons of why he would refuse to divulge what he'd translated so far. If it was optimistic, wouldn't he have said so?

Shrugging it off, I started to make my way to the Gryffindor common room to fetch my broomstick when I heard loud voices coming from the corner Connor had just turned. I listened carefully, and was able to pick out Connor's agitated voice from the babble.

I crept back and peered around the corner. Connor was facing two older Slytherins whom I vaguely recognized from around Hogwarts, but not by name. One was tall with messy blond hair, and the other was shorter with close-cut brown hair. Both had identical sneers on their faces.

"You're the second Mudblood we've come across since leaving our dormitory, you know?" said the taller one in disgust. "The school's being overrun."

"It's an outrage," declared the short one. "Do you think there's a conspiracy?"

"If you honestly believe Muggle-borns are conspiring to take over Hogwarts, then you're even stupider than I thought," said Connor. "I didn't think that was possible."

I broke into a wide grin as the two Slytherins bristled. "Watch your tongue, Mudblood, or we just might curse it off," the tall one warned, removing his wand from his pocket. Connor eyed it, but didn't reach for his own.

Rosier laughed disparagingly. "Are you scared of a duel, little Mudblood?"

"I'm not afraid," said Connor. "I'm simply aware that if I draw my wand, you're going to disarm me before I manage to utter a single spell. I never fall for the same trap twice, Rosier."

"The little Mudblood's smart!" Rosier exclaimed sarcastically. "Fine, don't fight back. Makes our life easer. Flipendo!"

Connor dodged the spell and he pulled out his wand. He quickly aimed it at Rosier and shouted, "Impedimenta!"

Rosier froze in his tracks. The shorter Slytherin gaped and drew his own wand, but Connor yelled, "Expelliarmus!", and his wand flew out of his hand. He stared at Connor for a few seconds before turning and bolting in the opposite direction.

"Cowards, the lot of them," I said, finally deciding to show myself. Connor glanced back in surprise.

"Did you see that?" he said excitedly.

"I did," I said. For some reason, I was immensely proud to see Connor use the skills I had taught him, especially against those Slytherin bullies, and I wondered if that was how the professor of Hogwarts felt when they saw their students excel.

Rosier began to regain movement in his body, groaning aloud. I casually took out my wand and said, "Petrificus Totalus."

His limbs locked together and he fell forwards, striking his forehead on the marble floor. The impact made a dull thud that reverberated throughout the otherwise empty corridor.

Connor examined Rosier's prone form in trepidation, looking around nervously. "When a teacher comes and revives him-"

"If he breathes a word about what happened, you can say it was in self-defence," I interrupted. "Not to mention that he was the one bullying you."

"True." He stuck his wand in his pocket. "Thanks, Vic."

I paused. "What did you call me?"

"Er…Vic," he said, catching the strange expression on my face. "Sorry. If you don't like it-I just thought since you call me jokester all the time-"

"No, Vic is fine," I said, a smile beginning to bloom on my face. "It's just that no one's called me that for a long time."