Chapter 9
Disclaimer: You know the drill



As Harry made his way back to the common room, he got the feeling more and more that he shouldn't tell his friends what he had seen. He couldn't explain it, but there was some inner voice telling him that it would be a bad idea to notify them.

By the time he'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry had made the choice that he'd wait and see what happened before telling them anything.

"Password, dear?" she asked, giving him a soft smile.

"Oh, um,…" then Harry remembered that he still didn't know what the password was. Lucky, someone came up behind him.

"Jarvey." said an all too familiar girl's voice.

The portrait opened, letting him and Mystery in. "Thanks," Harry mumbled, turning to head off toward his friends.

He could feel the girl's indigo eyes boring into his back, then he heard her say, "Anytime," before she marched off to her dorm.

The next hour was spent playing chess with Ron, which he lost greatly, before the trio of friends went to their next class, History of Magic, with Professor Binns. Not surprising, Mystery was sitting in her seat in the back of the class, right next the window that faced the lake.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked to their own desk, all of which where in the dead center of the class. Talking to themselves, they didn't notice when the class filled, but were shushed by many when the professor/ghost walked in.

"Today, we will be studying about ……" that was all Harry heard, before he, like everyone else, turned out the Professor's toneless voice. Harry looked around, seeing that Levender Brown was busy painting her nails a bright, fire engine red. Dean was laying on his desk, already half-asleep. The only two people that were really listening to the professor's words were Hermione, who looked ready to give up on her notes; and Mystery, who was almost finished with a whole parchment of notes and was about to take another out when she looked up and show Harry watching her. Then she smiled, that wonderful, illuminating smile. Harry felt his cheeks turning red and quickly turned back to face the front.

About an hour had gone by when the Professor came to a stuttering stop. No one quite knew why till they looked to the back. There, sitting straight as an arrow in her chair, was Mystery, hand high in the air.

The Professor was clearly at a loss; their was only one person who had ever, *ever* raised her hand in his class, and that was Hermione. Finally, he got out, "Yes, Miss…" looking down at his roster, "Miss Porter? Something you'd like to add?"

"Yes, Professor Binns, there is a small mistake in your notes." Mystery said, her voice strong and clear.

As one the class gasped. No one had ever, to their knowledge, questioned Binns.

However, the Professor seemed to find it amusing. "Really?"

"Yes, sir. The death of Wendelin the Weird was 1589. Correct?" At the Professor's nod, she continued, "How then was she able to be burnt for the 46th time in 1596 and the 47th time in 1598?"

Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what the Professor was going to say. In the end, Binns nodded. "How indeed?" he asked to no one in general. "If someone can find the answer to the question young Miss Porter has addressed in a full paged essay, 90 points to your house. And," he added, "40 points to her for noticing the problem has it presented itself. Class dismissed."