Chapter 11

No Regrets

When I asked Professor Flitwick about the vanishing room off the seventh floor corridor, he felt my wrist and asked if I needed to visit Madam Pomfrey. Professor McGonagall suggested I get in more hours of sleep and Professor Sprout only shook her head, a blank expression on her face.

So I was left to wait on a girl who hadn't been born yet, hiding in a dead-end corner of the castle in a room that didn't exist. Okay, so maybe I needed some sleep. It took me a day to remember what Julianne had specifically instructed, it having been given when the owls were retiring for the night. But even remembering didn't help me to understand what she expected me to do. I had no regrets, nothing to amend or fix up before I rid myself of any falsehoods in my life. Mind-reader or not, this Julianne girl didn't know me…

Or did she? She was from the future, after all, was she connected to my own, somehow?

Well, that answer was clear as day—the Blood-turner had taken her to me and I to her. Maybe she was… no, don't think about that.

It wasn't possible that she was a member of the Black family—for one thing she lacked any of the traits. Stormy eyes, proud features, irritable disposition… no. That didn't describe Julianne one bit.

"Earth to Lux," Alice tapped the side of my head. "Hello?"

"Stop it," I grumbled, craning my neck to keep my head out of her reach. She only leaned over and stuck the end of her quill in my ear.

"You promised to help me with Arithmancy, but you keep drifting off." She squinted at me through her eyelashes. "What has you so distracted? Or is it a who?"

"Hark who's talking," I shot back, raising both eyebrows. "How's Longbottom?"

She blushed, but kept the course. "Frank is wonderful. He's studying for his OWL exams. We still have regular exams, which I'd very much like to pass with your help. I helped you study for Herbology, now it's time for you to repay me—but first, we get this distraction out of the dark recess of your mind and into the open." She glanced around with a knowing smile. "Is it Mary?"

Some organ jumped into my throat—hard to tell if it was my heart, liver or both of my kidneys—but despite my initial thoughts being miles away from the Gryffindor girl, I felt as though I'd been caught in a spotlight. Did I entertain thoughts about Mary? No. Did I allow the occasional, passing glance? Maybe. Did I want to discuss it with Alice? Over my dead body.

"It is!" Alice gasped, without allowing me to say anything. Was she a Legilimens as well? I didn't see that elective in third year… "Oh it's written all over your face!" Dammit. "This is wonderful! How long have you liked her?" Stop her!

"I don't! I haven't—" I sound like an uneducated idiot. "Shut up—we have a lot of work to finish."

"Lux and Mary sittin' atop a tree," she sang in an undertone, turning back to her numbers with an annoying grin.

"Watching Alice fail Arithmancy," I added before she could hit her stride. It worked, as she broke off to glare up at me, though the grin remained. I made her pay dearly for making me feel all out of sorts, teaching her to solve her problems the long way round like everybody else instead of the shortcut I'd discovered last year. By the time we'd finished, she was ready to sink into the floor and never look at her copy of Numerology and Gramatica again.

I tried to ditch her in the library, but she threw all her things haphazardly into her bag and followed after me. "Don't think I'm finished with you, sir! What are you going to do about Mary?"

"I didn't realize anything needed to be done," I replied evasively.

She bumped into me with her shoulder. "Oh don't give me that. Do you want me to figure out if she likes you back?" She wiggled her eyebrows in a playful manner. "Because I can-!"

I gave her a pained grimace. "I don't want that—I don't want any of that—just keep your bleeding mouth shut."

Alice crowed. "I'd never thought of you as being a shy one—the way you talk to people who get in your business: I'd imagine you grabbing her by the waist in front of the entire school and-"

"Don't confuse me with Longbottom," I said, cutting her off before she could get carried away. "Focus all your energy on him and leave me be."

She sighed in exasperation. "What? Leave you to wallow in silent misery?"

"It's worked for me so far," I wasn't really paying attention to words now. I just wanted to get away from her probing questions. I didn't have time to think about Mary—I apparently had things in my life I needed to clear out, or Julianne would never help me.

Alice hesitantly placed her hand on my shoulder, warning me that whatever she was about to say, it was said in plainness. "Lux, you're one of my friends...so I'm going to help you."

I turned to snap at her, but she was already walking away. I stood there filled with anger, anxiety, and some warm sensation I couldn't name. "Alice!" She glanced back, her smile a question. She's on your side, I reminded myself. You don't get a lot of those. "...Thank you."

At length, I decided that I should write to my father. That way, whatever I discovered when Julianne broke the modification on my memory, I would at least have had the chance to say what was on my mind as I was. Claiming a desk in the common room, I set out a blank piece of parchment and inked my favorite quill, holding it over the page as I gathered my thoughts.

Dear Father,

I considered the phrasing and scratched out Dear.

Father,

...Now what?

I face a difficult

I crossed that out before I could even think of a way to end that catastrophe.

I stand on the verge of change.

Practically clawed that into non-existence.

"Hey."

I jumped and nearly snapped my neck as I turned to look Damocles, who was hovering over the other seat. "What."

He cleared his throat and nodded at the chair he was currently guarding. "Do you mind?"

Believing that he intended to drag the chair to another table with his friends, I nodded. Imagine my shock when he settled beside me and began pulling out his Transfiguration notes. I stared at him for a minute while he did this, setting up his essay for reference and began to review like anyone failing McGonagall's class would do. After another minute or so he noticed my stare and looked up with both eyebrows raised.

"I don't understand this sudden change in behaviour," I stated. "What is going on here?"

Damocles grimaced, apparently hoping to avoid this admittance until later. "It's very simple. Turns out Roy is an idiot who talks big; at first I thought his inadequacy was due to inexperience but over the last four years I've come to realize that he himself is an inadequate wizard. Quirinus I'd rather avoid because he's so terribly dull. The fact remains that the only one with intelligence to match mine in our entire year is you, and thus I propose we put an end to our childish animosity."

"I will agree under one condition," I replied stiffly.

"And what might that be?"

"If you can stop speaking to me like the pretentious git I've always imagined crushing beneath my boot."

With a straight face, Damocles shrugged. "Fair enough." We lapsed into our own thoughts-him and his failure to understand simple Transformative power, and me in my failure to write a comprehensive letter to my father. It wasn't long before I caught him glancing just a little too often at my increasingly scratched-out letter.

"Do you mind?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, I was just wondering whether you were writing your will or a suicide note." He shook his head sagely as he continued, "it wouldn't do if my new friend suddenly disappeared so shortly after the initial agreement."

"Its a letter for my father," I coughed.

Damocles snorted rather rudely. "You write to your father the way I'd write to the Minister for Magic."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He glanced at my face before answering, to make sure that I was being serious and not aggressive. "Well, the general practice of writing to a member of your family requires-" he caught sight of my face again before changing tact. "Just relax. Write to him the way you would speak to him. A close family member shouldn't require such formality."

That made sense...why hadn't I thought of it first? I nodded, gesturing to Damocles' notes. "Have you based all your studying off of these?"

"Why?" he demanded, suddenly defensive.

"According to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, it is impossible to conjure food out of thin air," I began matter-of-factly, but perhaps not as boastfully as I would have before.

"I know that."

"I can see that, but your notes would have you believe that absolutely no food can materialize from magic." I explained further, hoping it would click without my having to spell it out.

"So?"

I withdrew my wand and held it up for him to see. "Food can be multiplied, enlarged, or summoned, but it cannot be conjured, however…" Come on, prove you're not an idiot.

"...The same applies to liquids," he finished incorrectly. I coughed, and pointed my wand at Roy, who was bragging to a group of second year girls.

"...why yes, I have earned the highest score in Charms-outlasted all records the school has had to date since the time of the founders themselves, I should be expecting an Order of Merlin any moment now…" was the latest fib out of his mouth.

Aiming for his perfectly quaffed hair, I said, "Aguamenti!"

Damocles bit his tongue as a jet of water arched beautifully across the common room, landing only on Roy's head, though a few second year girls were in the splash zone. Shaking and sputtering, Roy cried aloud and spun on the spot to locate his attacker. (I'd tactfully replaced my wand in its inner pocket.) "Who-! What in the name of-! How dare-!"

"Oy!" the Head Girl, named Millicent Bagnold, glared at him from where she was reading on the window seat with her boyfriend. "Shut up, Lockhart!"

Damocles and I turned back to our desk, exchanging secret grins. He mouthed something to the effect of, 'Oh I see now', before correcting his notes. Feeling decidedly more relaxed, I located the proper words to send to my father.

I was sure not to mention the mysterious and questionable time-traveler, but I told him about trivial things I didn't talk to anyone else about like my opinions on the teachers and the way they conduct their classes. I knew he liked Quidditch so I wrote about how the Ravenclaw team had been playing their favorites for the past three years and it was the sole reason my house was in last for the House cup. He hadn't told me anything about Mother, anything I knew about the late Sylvia Black I'd learned on my own behind his back, but perhaps if I...Oh, well, maybe. I hesitated to write anything about Mary, mainly because he'd check her blood status and I couldn't be sure how he'd feel about the fact that I harbored a skipped heartbeat for a half-blood. Although, Andi married a Muggleborn and he didn't bat an eyelid. The same could not be said for her widowed father...So I wrote sparingly about Mary, if only to bait him into at least considering telling me more about how he and Mother met. I doubted any reply he might send would reach my hands before I started training with Julianne, but he deserved the opportunity to open the issue himself.

After proofreading, sealing, and dashing to the owlery to send it off, I found myself wandering through the corridors. I should have returned to my dormitory straightaway, it being late in the evening, but I hoped that I'd turn around a corner and see her leaning against a window, or step out from behind a suit of armor, or jump out of an unused classroom-something! I must've circled the seventh floor around four times before I reluctantly began to hike back towards the west wing, my ears pricked for the slightest sound.

There's the Soldier's tunnel...she could still stop me...okay that's the portrait of the mad knight who challenges anyone stupid enough to stop and talk to him...she could still appear...there's the spiral staircase, where the heck is she? I actually came to a full stop and looked around the corridor, yet still I heard and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Oh come on," I sighed, turning to climb the stairway, leaving all my hopes behind. I guess she knew exams started in the morning. Stupid mind-reading nonsense.

I used to find Herbology as a bothersome subject. Since taking the fourth year exam I now find it abhorrent. I never wanted to look at a snargaluff pod or a mimbulus mimbletonia again. I didn't fair so well at Potions either, mainly because my ears had neglected to listen whenever Slughorn opened his mouth, not that it mattered much—he'd picked out his favorites back in our first year and hasn't strayed since. Alice used to tell me that I could've been one of the chosen, if only I'd bothered to be polite, but I couldn't take a bigot like Slughorn seriously.

"There you are, Whiskers!" Speaking of which. I turned and caught Sirius's arm with my throat as he slung it around my shoulders. He and Potter had been brainstorming for nicknames ever since the night our Animagus forms had been revealed. I'd been excluded from the idea committee when I'd called them Prancer and Spot. They hadn't quite settled on any one name yet, so far as I could tell, they were just trying out a few to see how it felt. 'Whiskers' was the latest failure, though it wasn't as bad as 'Pussyfoot', 'Kitten', or 'Bitsy Pookums'.

"'Lo there, Fido," I grunted, turning around to relieve the pressure off my Adam's apple.

"I told you he wouldn't like Whiskers," Potter said sagely. "I think it's time to revisit Bitsy Pookums."

"Not on your life!"

"Enjoy the Transfiguration exams, Pollux?" Remus asked, easing the friction in the conversation.

"They were alright, I almost felt challenged this year," I replied dryly.

"Well I thought they were splendiferic!" announced Potter, his eyes following a certain redhead across the courtyard. Sirius nudged me as the tell-tale hand rose to ruffle the unruly hair and we both smirked.

"That's not even a word," I said, refusing to let my own eyes follow a certain blonde who was walking with said certain redhead.

"It should be."

"I fell asleep during our History of Magic test," Pettigrew admitted. "I was still ten questions away but the window was open so there was a pleasant summer breeze and I haven't slept in three days."

"Studying all night?"

"No, Remus snores around this time of month," Sirius and Potter nodded to tell me that this was in fact true. I came to the conclusion on my own that this was due to the new moon-giving Remus no reason to have a restless sleep. Poor kid deserved the odd snore, of course I could say that-I didn't share a dorm with him.

"If it bothers you so much," said the snorer defensively. "You need only roll me on my back."

"Which is a fine theory," Sirius added, "except you sleep in a ball in the middle of your mattress. And you growl if any of us so much as move."

"I do not!"

I shut my ears to their pointless arguing; Alice had just entered the courtyard, and with a meaningful wink in my direction, she skipped over to join Evans, McKinnon and Macdonald. Oh no. Cease and desist Fortescue! Cease and desist! While I was trying to find a way to approach Alice and wring her neck without being conspicuous, a sudden movement in my peripheral grabbed my attention.

Sirius and Potter had tensed, then withdrew their wands as a group of Slytherins emerged into the daylight. Like a murder of crows, they settled around the fountain, after scaring off the first years who had taken up residence there previously. I could already hear the barrage of jinxes my cousin and his best mate had planned for the devil's spawn; they'd never quite forgiven Mulciber and his minions for bullying Pettigrew. (Not that it was an issue anymore, all the cowardly bloke needed to do was hide behind Sirius, Potter, Remus or in rare cases myself, when he felt threatened and he'd be in a safe zone. And then I'd chase him away when the danger had passed. But even I didn't dare taunt him while the other three were watching. Speaking in animal terms: Pettigrew was pack, or a part of the herd.)

Speaking in animal terms: the hunt was on. Sirius shot first, hitting Crabbe with a jellylegs jinx, which made him fall on top of Mulciber. Potter was next, firing off a few more colorful hexes at random targets, just to cause general panic for them, widespread amusement for anyone watching.

"Potter!" Well, ALMOST anyone. Evans had drawn herself up to her full height, which would have been impressive a year ago, but the girls had started to slow in growth while the boys were starting to pick up the slack. "Black! Just what do you think you're doing?!"

"Nothing to worry about, poppet," said Sirius pleasantly. "Just taking out the trash."

"You didn't see them scare off the first years, Evans, you were busy braiding McKinnon's hair," Potter explained, before hexing Avery purely because he could.

"And you couldn't just ask them to move?" Evans demanded, hands on her hips. If she aged about a century and wore tartan, she'd be the exact replica of McGonagall. "Simply attacking them is beneath…" she hesitated, and I could tell by her face that she doubted whether anything was beneath James Edmund Potter at that moment. "...You should know better!" And yet, here we are!

"If I could interject," groaned Mulciber from beneath Crabbe, his arm waving feebly.

"Stuff it, Mulciber," Sirius warned.

"We don't need a mudblood to protect us!" one of the others sneered. Evans flinched, but Potter, Sirius, and I stood around her defensively. If it hadn't been for the whole secrecy thing, I'd have had little qualms with transforming right then and there and unleashing a panther on the foul-mouthed miscreant. Before any of us could fire off another spell, or I could blow the unregistered Animagus act to smithereens, Professor Altier spotted the four raised wands and came storming over.

"What in the name of Helga Hufflepuff are you doing? Wands away! Wands away!" Reluctantly, I stowed mine, noticing Evans stowing hers from where she'd been pointing it at Potter's neck. "Heaven perserve us, what is going on here?" Immediately a clamour of answers rose up.

"They started it, Professor-"

"It was Potter's fault!"

"They just kicked the first years off the fountain, what were we supposed to do-"

"Honestly, Professor, I tried to tell them-"

Altier waved her hands over the noise and confusion, before pointing at me. "Mr. Black, you're an honest sort," Evans exhaled in annoyance behind me. "Explain."

Crap. "Right." Well aware that there were about twenty or so witnesses aside from those directly involved to contradict me, I stated, "The Slytherins entered the courtyard, encouraged about ten first years through means of intimidation and harsh gestures that they should volunteer their seats at the fountain. Seeing this, Potter and my cousin felt the need to give the first years their seats back, through means of magical vindictiveness. Evans attempted to persuade them to stop by harsh words and that's when the Slytherins, feeling guilt or humiliation or both, decided to call her a very inappropriate term for someone calling for justice."

The Professor glanced around at the onlookers to confirm my words, and when no one (but the Slytherins directly involved) disagreed, she set her mouth in a grim line. "Well, I'm afraid I'll have to give each of you detention." In the upheaval that arose she waved her wand, silencing all of us. "Instead of hexing or disrupting this pleasant afternoon with incessant shouting, you should have sent for a teacher like myself to settle the dispute from the start! I know exams have passed but there's still a week before the term comes to an end. In that time, I'm sure the staff will be more than eager to release their tensions by watching each and every one of you work off your punishment." She then gave a note to each of the Slytherins to turn into Professor Slughorn, a note for Sirius, Potter, Evans to turn into McGonagall, and a note for me to give to Flitwick.

Ignoring the death glares I was given by nearly everyone after Altier departed, I gathered up my bag and entered the castle. At least my first detention would be completed in peace.

"Don't worry about a thing," Sirius clapped my shoulder as we waited for Professor Kettleburn. Apparently Flitwick, ever the considerate teacher, thought I'd find detention alone rather daunting. Clearly he hadn't paid attention to my pattern over the years. Or maybe he thought that the perfect punishment for me was to spend an hour or two with the reasons for my being in trouble to begin with. I was content to sit and watch the dispute until Evans got involved. It was around then that Mary had started paying attention too… Anyway. "Detention is nothing to be afraid of: James and I should know, we've only had it eighty times or so." He glanced over my shoulder at Evans, who figured between the three options, I was the less insane. "That goes for you as well, Evans."

She rolled her eyes and tossed her hair over one shoulder where it brushed across my face like the softest slap in the world. "I wouldn't even be here if you and Potter could act your age. Where is Potter, anyway?" She glanced around the boathouse nervously.

"He's right over-" Sirius made a show of looking around the apparently vacant boathouse. "-oh. Well now that is odd."

I grimaced, wondering whether Potter was dumb enough to bring his invisibility cloak to a detention or not. Evans caught sight of my face and tugged on my sleeve. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I muttered, leering around at the seemingly vacant boats and wondering where Potter had redundantly hidden himself. Predicting my thought process, Sirius tugged on my other sleeve and shook his head slightly. Well, if Potter wasn't invisible, then where was he?

"If this is one of your stupid pranks, Black, I'm not having it!" Evans turned on the spot, until the double doors to the boathouse opened up and Potter stuck his head inside.

"Kettleburn's waiting, are you coming or what?" He then winked cheekily and retreated back outside. Evans grumbled something unladylike under her breath as we marched out onto the grounds where the Professor and Potter stood beside the lake.

"Welcome to detention," Professor Kettleburn began. "Now, as some of you have neglected to take my Care of Magical Creatures class, this might seem a bit uncouth, but I assure you, it's perfectly safe."

I knew Sirius and Potter took CoMC, but I was also certain that they didn't take it because it was 'safe'. Professor Kettleburn had sacrificed quite a few of his fingers to his teaching career, and the rumor was it was only a matter of time before he lost something a bit more important, like his head.

"Now then, your teachers instructed you to bring swim clothes, yes?" There it was, the reason for my discomfort and reluctance this early evening. It was June, so the sun was still above the horizon, while the air was warm...and yet I knew that the Black Lake would always be a frigid temperature, no matter how many suns beat upon its murky surface all day long. I hadn't read that in Hogwarts: a History or anything, it was just one of those logical conclusions. "Very good. The Merpeople need some help with their Grindylow infestation, so what you're going to do-yes, Ms. Evans?"

Evans lowered her hand, if only to fidget with her school robes, which she'd hugged around herself self-consciously. "I'm sorry, but did you say 'Merpeople'?"

"Yes, my dear, of a hardy Scottish strain, I believe. If you'd taken my course with your housemates, you'd know this. Now-the Grindylows haven't been properly facilitated-they should normally keep to the lake weeds in the shallower areas but lately they've been crowding the Merpeople at the very bottom; and Professor Dumbledore himself agreed to see that this was taken care of. You should all feel proud to know that he and Professor McGonagall have placed this in your trust."

"Of course, sir," I said, scratching my neck. "But you've yet to tell us what and how we're to help. Or are we the bait?"

Professor Kettleburn laughed, though I was still convinced using fresh bait was within his range. "I suppose those are rather important details, Mr. Black! Now then, two of you will work with the Merpeople, chasing stray Grindylow out of their villas and caves, and the other two will search through the lake weeds and find the cause of the misplaced wildlife."

"And we're expected to what-? Hold our breaths?" I asked impatiently, ignoring Evans, who smacked my arm for speaking disrespectfully to a teacher.

Professor Kettleburn gave me a look my father called the 'hairy eyeball', before revealing to us a quick and rather advanced spell called the Bubble-Headed charm. Sirius made a joke about Potter's head already being big, so the spell wouldn't work, and he got a helping of hairy eyeball as well.

"Ms. Evans, I want you and Mr. Black to negotiate with the Merpeople—oh yes, I'm sorry, that's Sirius—Pollux and Mr. Potter will work in the weeds."

Whether or not he was aware: Flitwick had nailed the perfect detention for me. Lesson learned: don't get caught breaking the rules.

Potter looked equally happy about the division: obviously Kettleburn had enough of his antics with Sirius during his lessons, and whether by a warning or sheer luck he'd known not to let him near Evans. Without supervision, anyway.

"Well, get a move on! The Merpeople are waiting on you!" Kettleburn ushered us into the shallows. Sirius and Potter disrobed without hesitation, while Evans avoided looking at any of us, hugging herself. Taking pity on her, I discarded my shirt and school robe, pointed my wand at Potter and cast the charm over him, myself, and then shoved his bobble-head into the water.

I had time to cast a distorted grimace at Sirius and Evans before a hand grabbed my ankle and dragged me further out into the shallows, after knocking me off balance, of course.

Never had I gone for a dip in the Black Lake before, which seemed a shame in retrospect as it was probably named after one of my ancestors. I couldn't help but drink in the scenery, no pun intended. At first the water seemed dark and foreboding, but the further down Potter and I swam, the more greenish blue everything seemed. The weirdest part was how nothing was still, though the absence of sound would suggest that everything should be. I spotted the bed of lake weed swaying back and forth to a rhythm I couldn't listen to; I nudged Potter, who was taking the time to watch the distant figures of Sirius and Evans dive down towards the middle of the lake. He looked over at me, and through the bubble-head charm I spotted the condescending frown we'd reserved especially for one another over the years. Pointing to the forest of kelp and whatnot, I started to lead the way down.

I knew he blamed me for this whole situation, and the fact that he wasn't allowed to work with my cousin or the girl of his fantasies probably didn't help either. He'd told me plenty of times since yesterday afternoon that all I had to do was lie to Professor Altier. 'Nobody would have argued, and we would all have walked away!'

'Evans would have told her if I hadn't.' I'd argued.

'I'd have handled Evans,'

'Oh I'm sure, just as certainly as the Slytherins would have grovelled at her feet for forgiveness.'

'All I'm saying is you didn't have to lay it out like you were presenting a homework assignment.'

'And you didn't have to pick on a group of Slytherins who believe in a thing called retribution!'

And from there, it only grew worse. I'd never pretended to like Potter since he burst into our compartment on the train, but I hadn't objected to his being Sirius's friend neither. It was around the times I couldn't speak to Sirius without Potter interfering that he started to get under my skin. (In other words: ALWAYS.)

Nevertheless, here we were, swimming through the gloomy underwater forest as we searched for something that could scare a Grindylow. Maybe our disgruntlement with one another should have taken a backseat as we banded together to fulfill the mission set before us. I regret to say that the notion didn't cross either of our minds, though I wish it had, most especially when we discovered the problem.

I motioned for Potter to stay close when the kelp became thicker and taller, so naturally he ignored me and swam parallel-or at least I had to assume that's what he was doing. I kept my eyes peeled, glancing this way and that, aware that the longer we were uninterrupted, the more creepy the lake seemed. We hadn't seen so much as a fish, let alone a water demon or anything. I kept trying to ignore the notion that the weeds ahead of me were going to split apart to reveal the massive eye of some monster that was capable of swallowing a young man in a single gulp.

Something moved to my left and I swerved around, my arms churning wildly. That had better have been Potter or I'm gonna… The thing, whatever it was, moved again, and it had one too many limbs to be a gangly teenage boy. My first instinct was to swim upwards as fast as possible and not look back; let Potter deal with whatever was scaring away Grindylows and apparently everything else. The only reason I stayed put was because I knew that if I did run now, Potter would never let me hear the end of it. And there was the risk that word of my cowardice would get back to Mary… Get ahold of yourself, Pollux!

I rotated in the kelp forest, my eyes on the large figure that was swimming past, so focused I didn't notice something rising to my right until it knocked on my bubble. I lashed out on pure reaction, kicking Potter in the ribs. He punched my chest in retaliation, though both blows were greatly muted by the water resistance. Cursing him for the distraction, I peered through the swirling, dancing plants to find the merest hint of the creature again, when Potter knocked on my bubble once more.

Resisting the urge to grind my teeth, (or cough because I wasn't entirely sure how oxygen worked in these things,) I turned my head to look at him, eyebrows raised. He pointed up above us towards the surface, likely suggesting that we give up. Shaking my head, I continued to search for the thing I'd seen before. It had four, possibly five limbs...a bit bigger than I was tall...shouldn't be terribly difficult to spot. And there was Potter, knocking on my bubble a third time.

I turned to face him, not bothering to hide my irritation, but he wasn't looking at me anymore, his eyes were trained on the surface. Deciding to humor him purely so he'd leave me alone, I looked up. We weren't that far beneath the water, which was probably why the sight above was so alarming. I couldn't see the sun anymore, though I knew it was still airbourne, because there was a massive shadow in the way. It had four fins that were shaped like spades, and a long tail, with an even longer neck.

I'd seen pictures. I'd heard fairy tales, myths. None of them prepared me for the water horse that was gazing somewhat quizzically down at Potter and I. It was almost endearing, until it began to swim at us.

Potter dodged left, I went forward, and that began the worst swim of my life. Not because the serpentine dinosaur followed me, but because it went after him. Potter swam like a maniac, his arms and legs slicing through the water desperately, through the lake weed and kelp in an attempt to hide from the monstrous creature that pursued him. I swam up above the tangling plants to get a better vantage point before pointing my wand at the creature. "Colo...no that's not right...uhm...hang on, what's the rope spell?"

The water horse grabbed Potter in its mouth as I hesitated, my panicked brain not working as it should. I caught sight of his distorted and frightened expression as the creature used its long neck to swirl him around. Oh forget the rope spell! "Immobulus!" I yelled, firing a flare of light through the water at the thing eating Potter, though I'd yet to see any red join the serene blue-green of the underwater world. The beast froze, the Gryffindor still trapped in its jaws. I swam downward to pry them open and set him free, but once he'd drifted away from the thing's mouth, Potter began to sink, not float. His bubble had popped and somewhere in the swirling he must've fallen unconscious. I swam beneath him, hooked my elbows beneath his arms and kicked upwards towards the fading sunlight.

Did I mention how eerie the Black Lake was? Thus far I'd managed to ignore the cold, the soundlessness, and the terrible feeling that something was watching me. While I kicked upwards towards the surface, unable to move as fast or as freely as I would've normally with the extra load wanting nothing more than to drop down, a terrible thought invaded my head.

There's no way. You're not strong enough to save both of you. You have to let him go.

I kicked harder, shoving that ugly feeling out of my brain. I wasn't going to pretend I liked James Edmund Potter, but I refused to be responsible for his death.

When my head finally broke the surface, the spell wore off immediately, allowing me to gulp down fresh air. Potter remained comatose in my arms, so I was forced to alternate between pushing and pulling him back to shore where I could see Sirius and Evans standing with Professor Kettleburn.

When Sirius realized I was the only one swimming, he jumped back into the water and met me halfway, grabbing Potter's other side and pushing with me while I kept his head above water. When my feet hit the muddy, but shallow bottom, I thought I was going to collapse on the spot, the weight returning to my arms and legs, along with a burning sensation in my muscles. Sirius and I hauled James up onto the grass, laying him flat on his back, hoping he'd wake up and start coughing, but he remained unconscious.

Evans covered me with a towel and began rubbing my arms while Sirius did the same to James, all the while talking to him, hoping he would give a sign of life.

"What happened?" Professor Kettleburn inquired. I shook my head, not willing to share the story, not now. He had to wake up first, even if the only thing he'd do was argue with me over the details. Seeing that I wouldn't answer, Kettleburn mentioned something about fetching the nurse before he sprinted back up to the castle.

Evans shook my shoulder, apparently she'd asked a question and I hadn't been listening. "Did he swallow any water?"

"What? Yeah, probably, why?" I wondered why I sounded so upset, but didn't have much time to reflect, given what happened next.

"Sirius, I need you to move," Evans commanded, pushing my cousin back towards me, forcing us to standby as she did some weird Muggle revival.

First, she turned James's head to the side, watching carefully as a trail of water leaked from his mouth and nose. Then, turning his head forward, she tilted it back, pinched his nose and planted one on him. Sirius made a small noise in his throat while I leaned over to get a better perspective because surely, Lily Evans wouldn't kiss James Potter willingly. And I was right, she wasn't kissing him per say, she was breathing into his mouth, like his head was a deflated balloon. After four long puffs, she pulled back, only to hover her ear over his mouth, her emerald green eyes on his chest. She touched two hands to his neck where the pulse ought to be, and then leaned over and repeated the process.

I was confused, Sirius was confused, and everyone who heard this story thereafter (who wasn't a muggleborn) was absolutely BAFFLED.

Unperturbed, Evans continued to do whatever she was doing until (for lack of a better phrasing) James kind of pulsed, and rolled onto his side as he coughed, hacked, and regurgitated about half of the lake. She sat back on her ankles, and sent Sirius and I a look that clearly stated that if we ever repeated this to anyone we would die slowly and painfully. But, as I already mentioned earlier, this story was repeated anyway.

James sat up, blinking around at all of us in confusion until he locked on me. "What happened?" Sirius and Lily looked at me for a full explanation as well.

"Right, so it got you," I began.

"I remember that part vividly," he croaked. "Thank you."

"Well either you hit your head or fainted-"

"I did not faint!" he insisted, while Lily giggled.

"So we agree you hit your head, and then the charm failed and…" I wasn't entirely sure how to finish the story without sounding like I was bragging.

"Wait," James furrowed his eyebrows at me. "Did you save me?"

"Well either that or you drifted to shore by yourself," said Lily, watching me with some kind of odd emotion in her eyes. If she started her Muggle ritual on me I wasn't sure how I was supposed to refuse. James might help with that.

"How did you stop that thing?!" James demanded.

"WHAT THING?" Sirius yelled, glancing back at the lake as though expecting something to burst out of it.

"You know how when Uncle Cygnus gets drunk and starts telling old folktales? Well one of them is floating through the kelp fields and scaring away all the other fawna."

"Which one?"

Here's a fun tip for any witch or wizard at home: the spell Immobulus does not last indefinitely. At that precise moment, a long neck with a furious head attached burst out of the water and arched over us, before releasing a high-pitched call.

"That one," I muttered as Lily told us all to run. Wrapped in towels and holding our dry clothes aloft, the four of us hightailed it back up to the safety of the castle.

James was to stay in the hospital wing where the nurse could keep an eye on his condition for a day or so, while Sirius, Lily and I had to deliver our reports directly to the Headmaster himself. Dumbledore listened with the smallest hint of smile on his face, but I swear he gave me a bit of a frown while I spoke. I found I didn't like speaking to the Headmaster, because it was as if he was seeing right through me to all the parts I tried to hide. I had a feeling he knew about the girl who fell through time just by looking at me, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

It seemed like everybody could read minds these days, everyone except for me.

At the end of our reports, Dumbledore reassured us that the lake monster would be taken care of at once, and there was no further need for us to worry ourselves or anyone else… So naturally, everyone was talking about the water horse the very next morning and how it had eaten three students before James Potter and Pollux Black had vanquished it. Sirius pouted about his exclusion from the fable until three days later when our exam results were released, and he'd scored better than me in the Transfiguration practical.

The school year finally at an end, and while trunks were being packed and whispers of summer holiday plans flitted back and forth, I had the nagging feeling that there was something wrong.

Just as I'd started to convince myself that Julianne had been a figment of my imagination, I spotted her in the Great Hall. She was sitting among the seventh year Hufflepuffs who didn't seem to question her presence. In fact she was talking to one of them with a big smile on her face. When she rose gracefully to her feet to depart, I abandoned my chicken to follow her out, through the hall, up the marble staircase and onto a moving stair.

"HEY!" I spoke louder than I'd intended, but for crying out loud she'd been hiding in the castle for nearly two months.

She stopped, not that she had anywhere to go with the staircase swinging around. "Hey."

"What happened to helping me!?"

Her shoulders went up and down. "I'm always going to help you-you just took your sweet time getting ready for my help."

I climbed the last few steps so I could face her, just as the stairs came to rest on the fifth floor. "They send us all home tomorrow, how are you going to 'let my brain adjust' in twelve hours?"

She raised her eyebrows at me in a silent Really? "Guess I'm spending the summer holidays at the Black Estate." She blinked at my horrified expression. "Unless you've changed your mind and don't want my help." She held out her palm. "I'll take my blood-turner back then, and we'll go our separate ways."

"No! But...how am I supposed to explain you?" I spluttered, still trying to understand that she expected to be welcome at Black Estate.

"Oh," she sighed. "Well, if there's ever anything you need to know about me, it's that I can explain myself. All you have to do is just go with it."

"You're real, right?" I blurted out, wanting to reach out and push her just to make sure. Sensing this, she pushed at my shoulder.

"I'm probably the realest person you've ever met," she said dryly. "See you tomorrow."

I let her walk away, feeling my stomach churn as I struggled to understand the implications of all that she'd said, and all she was about to do. But I think the thing I struggled with the most was the amount of trust I gave to her. And I still didn't have a good reason why.

...Sometimes I think back on that evening, and wonder if my life would have been better if I'd just given her the blood-turner and allowed her to fall out of my life the same way she'd tripped into it.

They say ignorance is bliss...but it wasn't the path I chose. If I had to go back and repeat that evening with Julianne, I'd have done the same thing, but I would asked her one question: Do you know what's about to happen?

And while I didn't before, I now know with full confidence that she'd have said something to the effect of: Most of it. Are you ready?

Yeah...no regrets.

Author's Note: Dun dun dun...! I'm curious, so if you guys wouldn't mind telling me: what do YOU think is about to happen?