Sorry again for the late update. I totally meant to update it yesterday but someone decided they needed to drag me shopping and well... once I go shopping I go home exhausted regardless of what we did during said shopping. Please R&R and lemme know whatcha think!

Chapter 14: A Whirlwind of Trouble

Later the same day Meissa was on the top floor of the library, writing and taking quick notes of the wizarding history of Great Britain. Do anything really to get rid of the fact that she had lost her temper earlier with the Weasley boy.

She's been around the older boys and none of them got her so angry as he does - just how is it possible for a moronic pea-brained boy to get her so riled up?

Top it off with Draco pulling off a few stints on the redhead once she made it known to the house that the youngest Weasley boy had earned her ire.

One part of her felt bad for not doing something to put a stop to his pranks once she heard of it. Another part was more than a bit pleased with the results. Her cousin was surprisingly resourceful when he tries - though she was curious as to how he managed to find a spell that would change Weasley's robes to different colors.

On one occasion his robes were bright neon pink - which clashed horribly with the redhead's hair - and at another occasion he reminded her of a candy cane.

"May I sit here?" she hears a low voice question. Prompting her to look up from the tome she had been flipping through.

She sees Hermione standing on the other side of the table and silently motions for her to take her seat. She had no doubt that the Gryffindor was feeling a bit unsure of herself after what had happened earlier.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asks quietly.

"In general or regarding the boy wonder?"

"Both?"

"Could've be better," she answers shortly as she returned to her notes.

"What… well, what exactly happened earlier?"

"I've had my fill of Weasley's antics."

"Why now?" Hermione asks, "I mean… this isn't the first time he behaved like that towards you."

Meissa had nothing to say to Hermione regarding the redhead. She simply lost her temper towards him, once again, and she had no doubt that she'll keep losing her temper.

"It's not really his fault," Hermione starts quietly, "He thinks that Professor Snape is going to be an unfair referee in the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff."

Meissa arches an eyebrow at this, peering up from her notes. "Professor Snape is refereeing?"

She hadn't been expecting to hear that bit of news. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen the Potion Master on a broom. She had no doubt that it would be an interesting match to watch.

"Yes, according Oliver Wood."

"The Gryffindor Captain right?"

"Yes."

"I see… well, I doubt Professor Snape will judge unfairly," Meissa remarks as she dotted all the i's and crossed the t's in her notebook.

"Why is he refereeing anyway?"

Meissa shrugs her shoulders distractedly.

"It's possible that Headmaster Dumbledore is simply taking precautions. Or maybe Professor Snape suggested himself in hope of preventing the possibility of another jinx happening during the game."

"Why do you believe the best in him?"

"Why do you believe the worse?"

The two of them look at each other for a long moment before Hermione sighs, seeing that the Slytherin girl had a point.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologizes.

"It's not really me you should be apologizing to," Meissa remarks drily before she sigh softly to herself. She didn't see this conversation ending any time soon and she might as well just concentrate entirely on it.

"True."

Meissa rolls her eyes and decides to leave the issue alone.

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Um… You never did answer the question."

"The one about my reaction?"

"Yeah."

Meissa sighs. "Think of it like this, Hermione, I've expressed, countless times, that I firmly believe in Professor Snape's innocence. And each time he not only affirms in his belief that Professor Snape is guilty but also shows condescension for the fact that I am a Slytherin as well as my own personal beliefs regarding the issue."

A near sneer appeared on her face.

"If there's one thing I will not tolerate it's someone patronizing me," Meissa narrowed her eyes at the Gryffindor in warning. She was not going to see any other opinion or get told off for her thoughts.

"Oh Meissa," Hermione sighs quietly before she got up to go around the table. Wrapping her arms tightly around the raven-haired girl, ignoring the way she tensed up.

It was only when she felt Meissa trembling that she actually let her go with a soft pat on her shoulders.

"Next time," Hermione vow, "I will stop Ron before he provokes you so badly."

"Why do you care?"

"You're my friend, Meissa, and so is he. Is it wrong of me to want both of you to at least tolerate each other?"

A grimace shows on Meissa's face at the question but when Hermione showed no signs of changing her mind the raven-haired girl sighs reluctantly.

"I'll be civil," Meissa mutters, the grimace on her face growing, "But if he does or say anything." She lets the threat hang in the air and Hermione accepts it for what it is.

~MJB~

Meissa was silently casting a dancing spell, flicking her wand this and that way as she orchestrated a group of throw pillows into some elaborate dance. It was past curfew but, as she had discovered long ago, she was not the slightest bit tired.

She didn't care if her fellow housemates still believed that Ronald Weasley was still on the outs with her. She was tempted, so tempted, to include Harry Potter in the doghouse.

She didn't care if they were looking at her strangely for her choice of spells or even the fact that she was doing it all nonverbally.

Ever since Halloween they've come to realize that she tends to cast spells silently - preferring to take people off guard. In the months since that Charm class, whenever a strange mishap occurs in her vicinity people looks at her oddly. As if trying to determine if she is guilty or not.

And she didn't care if they thought she was - she knew what she was responsible for and Daphne, often in her company when she plans out her pranks, is usually the only one to know.

"Why are you still awake?" she hears. Unbidden she thinks 'speak of the devil and he'll appear'.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I guess I should ask why you don't sleep more than four hours," Daphne remarks drily, not failing to note that the other girl had tensed at her words.

Sore subject apparently.

"So, what spell are you practicing?"

"It's the dancing charm from earlier."

"And you managed to do this?"

Meissa shrugs her shoulders - she didn't know how to answer the question and if she was pressed about it she would say she didn't want to answer it.

"Meissa?"

"Mm?"

"Are you going to bed soon?"

"Do you want the truth or lie?"

"Which do you think?"

The raven-haired girl glances up to the other girl and found that she was getting a 'I'm waiting' look from her. "Truth then," Meissa drawls calmly. "I don't feel like sleeping."

"At all?"

"Ever."

"That's not exactly healthy."

Meissa ignores the concern in the blonde's voice, preferring to stare icily at the dancing pillows.

She was so intent on ignoring Daphne that she was taken off guard when a pair of arms wrapped around her for the second time in one day - her body tensing up so much that she couldn't prevent the gasp from escaping her lips.

With her concentration the pillows fell freely to the ground as she grips the blonde's arm tightly. Before she could twist Daphne's arm away from her shoulders she feels a face press into her hair and she couldn't make out whatever it was the blonde had muttered

Confused and more than a bit aggravated by the constant touching she squirms away from the blonde - missing the flash of something in the other girl's eyes.

"Try and get some sleep soon," Daphne mutters quietly before her footsteps signaled her departure.

Meissa twist around and peers into the dim stairway from her seat.

Something felt off about what just happened…

She just couldn't figure out what.

~MJB~

The day of the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch match came so quickly that Meissa found herself wondering where time went. Daphne had become withdrawn in the days since the night Meissa had been up late practicing her magic - barely saying more than five words to anyone, including Meissa. While the Black heiress in question was barely getting more than two hours of sleep and when her emotions sweep out of her control something ends up breaking.

Once a suit of armor was practically blown apart when someone had attempted a jinx against her cousin. That prompted everyone to give the cousins a clear space of at least six feet in hallways by all who have heard of the incident in question.

Regardless of her nonexistent control over her emotions and magic Draco insisted that she join him in the stands instead of hiding away like she had intended. So she found herself high in the stands though she couldn't fathom the reason for her being in the Gryffindor stands.

Though she was glad to be near Hermione, the noise level of the excited crowd was starting to get to her and she had - once again - forgotten to take a migraine potion with her just in case. She was half ready to cast a Muffliato - though that would only work on those around her… (1)

Then she suddenly snaps her fingers as she thought of something.

"Muffliato Meissa Black!" she intones as evenly and quietly as possible, waving her wand in the required movements. Instantly there was a low buzz filling her ears, making it nearly impossible to pick up any noise from anyone else. The buzz she could tolerate over the noise of the crowd.

Though, why was Hermione talking so frantically at her.

"What?"

If it was possible Hermione started to speak even faster - not that Meissa could hear her - until finally Meissa muttered a counter-spell.

"I need your help. I'm afraid that someone's going to try something on Harry again," Hermione pleas.

"Isn't Harry angry with me over what happened with Weasley?" Meissa inquires, ignoring the boy in question.

She was going to make an effort to ignore the redhead - for Hermione's stake. And because she had a sinking feeling that Harry was going to get her friend involved in a mess sooner or later. Despite her dislikes for the boys she knew she rather be near them than standing on the sidelines hoping for the best.

"I don't care if he's angry with you or not," Hermione retorts defiantly. "I want to be safe rather than sorry when it comes to Harry's life!"

Meissa nods her head slowly before she gets out her wand. "What's the plan?" she asks, eyeing her cousin warily. He looked like he was planning something with his cronies and she knew it wouldn't end well for anyone involved.

She listens to Hermione's rather simple plan - though she did object to their continued suspicion regarding Professor Snape. With her present in the plan now they decided that Hermione would watch Snape for anything that would probably harm Harry while Meissa would keep an eye on the teacher's stands.

The Gryffindor girl had to admit - when Meissa pointed it out - that her setting fire to Professor Snape's robes the last time could've disrupted someone else in their casting of the jinx. So anyone else in the professors' section was likely to be as guilty as Professor Snape.

So Meissa was busy peering around for the professors - she even spot the headmaster, though she still didn't think highly of him, but so far she didn't see any suspicious activities. Although the game had yet to begin, with both teams firmly inside their locker room.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Meissa overhears Ron mutter and she glances down to the Potion Master to find that his expression was absolutely thunderous. It was a face she was ultimately familiar with as a 'don't mess with me or else I will bite your head off' expression.

It made her wonder if he had been forced to become a referee by the headmaster or if he had volunteered for the task even though he knew he would be most unpleasant.

"Look, they're off - Ouch!"

Startled from her thoughts at Ron's sudden exclamation Meissa tears her eyes away from the match to find that Draco had maneuvered himself to sit behind the Weasley boy. Judging from the look on his face he had planned this all along when he dragged her to the Gryffindor's stand.

"Oh sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there," the blonde drawls as he grinned broadly at his two idiotic friends. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

To her surprise the redhead didn't answer him though when she followed his gaze she saw that he was glaring at the Potion Master. If she wasn't so sure about Weasley's inability to cast jinxes she would've said he was trying to cast one right then.

"Draco," Meissa's voice cut through to the blonde, drawing his attention to her. "Don't say something you will regret," she tells him before she goes back to watching the professors.

Professor Flitwick was a Charm Master and not someone whom she would suspect. Not because of his size or because of his proficiency at charms. But because whenever she looks at him she couldn't see anything negative about him. As excitable he can get she had to respect him - besides, he held the title of Duelling Champion for ten years straight before he retired from the game to assume a teaching position.

Professor McGonagall was, to her own opinion, a bit uptight and a strickler for rules. She did not see her doing anything that would jeopardize her chance to win the Quidditch cup. Yet she had no doubt that the Scottish woman would punish her own Quidditch team if they warrant such punishment.

Professor Sprout wasn't even at the game last time, preferring to care for her plants. Although she was present this time to watch her team play.

The DADA professor, Quirrell or something like that, was watching the game with eyes that made Meissa narrow her own. She reached back blindly and grabbed Draco's binoculars, peering into them to find that the stuttering man had a dark glare on his face. She doubted his ability to cast nonverbal spells - regardless she made a note to keep an eye on the wizard from now on.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word," she hears Ron growl lowly, snapping her from her thoughts.

"Ron!" Hermione cries suddenly, causing the redhead to leave the blonde alone. Meissa was already searching for Harry when she heard Hermione's sudden cry, finding him just in time to witness him into a spectacular dive. All around them the crowd gasped and cheered.

Besides her Hermione stood up, her fingers crossed and pressed nervously against her lips.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Malfoy sneered. Meissa made to snap at her cousin when suddenly Ron was on top of him, wrestling her cousin to the ground. Neville, the poor terrified boy, hesitated before he clambered over to help.

Meissa was so stunned by this, torn between watching Harry and this growing whirlstorm of a fight, that she stood there for several long seconds when suddenly Hermione's excited screech broke her out of her daze. Barely registering Hermione's words she dove for the boys, wand tightly in hand, and snarled several spells at the bickering boys.

At Crabbe and Goyle she cast a spell her godfather made, the spell lofting them up by an ankle. She cast a quick healing spell at Neville's face to stop the bleeding, giving him a quick pat on his shoulder. She was glad he was standing up for himself - though she didn't want to be him when his gran sends him a howler.

She barely wasted any time separating the boys, casting the Incarcerous spell at her cousin before stepping between Ron and Draco to keep the redhead from attacking her cousin while he's down.

"I dare say you had enough," Meissa drawls as she eyes the redhead. She wasn't going to let him continue beating her cousin up. It's bad enough that she'll be seen as a traitor for casting spells at her own house mates. She had no doubt her godfather was going to get on her arse for the display.

"Step aside."

"Weasley," Meissa drawls, "Don't think that just because you're a boy you can out best me."

His face turns a violent red but before he could say anything Hermione's voice reached their ears.

Gryffindor had won. They were in the lead.

Ron eyes her warily, his nose bleeding heavily, before he jerks his head over to the side where they could go to rejoin Hermione. Meissa lets him go first before kneeling by her red faced cousin.

"Draco," she mutters quietly, her hand tugging on the ropes around his chest. She forces him up into a sitting position. "I didn't hear everything you said, but I did hear the bit about the money." She levels a cold glare at him.

"Sometimes, cousin of mine, I think you forget that you live off your parents' money. Off your ancestors' money. You think you're entitled, right?" She doesn't wait for him to nod or shake his head - since his mouth was currently gagged.

"Someday you're going to have to see that you're at the mercy of your parents. Your father, should he want to, could disown you and leave you penniless," she whispers softly into his ear, her voice icy cold in her rage.

"Then you'd be worse off in comparison to the boy you mock. Without a knut to your name." She pulls away from him, arching an eyebrow at him. "Then what would you do?"

She lets go of the ropes on him before walking away, humming a nursery rhyme from her childhood. Just as she was about to disappear from the area altogether she lifts up her wand and, without missing or skipping a note in the rhyme, cast an finite incantatem over the boys.

~MJB~

Meissa was with Hermione when Harry finally turned up, breathless. Hermione was still excited over the win and - Meissa suspects this - relieved that nothing had happened during the match.

Other than Ron and Neville getting in a fight with the Slytherin boys.

"We won! You won! We won!" Ron shouted, his nose bleed gone at this point with a healing spell from Meissa. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed!" he waves a hand towards Meissa. "She kept him from being knocked out cold by using some weird spell to hang them by their feet! It was wicked!"

Meissa smirks at his words - prompting the boy to turn red and add, "For a Slytherin."

"Aw, Weasley, you're turning soft," she cackles, her lips twisted in a mischievous grin.

"Never mind that now," Harry interrupts, still breathless. "Let's find an empty room. You wait 'til you hear this..."

Meissa arches a brow at him - for someone who just won a match in less than five minutes he was behaving oddly. She follows them to a room, ordered Peeves out by threatening to call the Bloody Baron on him if he didn't listen, and settled on a creaky old desk.

It didn't take long for the boy to explain what he had seen and overheard in the Forbidden forest. Quirrell and Snape in the forest, talking about the stone and the Cerberus.

"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's stone!" Harry was saying excitedly, "And Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it!"

"Or maybe Professor Snape was trying to prevent Quirrell from getting the stone," Meissa speaks up.

Hermione glances worriedly between the two sides again but then saw Harry frowning thoughtfully at her.

"Why do you believe that he wouldn't try and grab the stone for himself?"

Meissa sighs softly to herself. "Because, Harry, he has no motive."

"Who needs motive when the stone can spit out pounds after pounds of gold?" Ron sneered.

"That sounds like a motive for you, Weasley," Meissa snaps. "Merlin knows that your family needs it."

"Take that back!"

"I will when you start thinking!"

"Enough!" Harry shouts. The two of them falls silent as they watched Harry think.

"If what you say is true, Meissa, why does he keep harping on Professor Quirrell?"

Meissa could only shrug her shoulders at that question. She had a theory or two about it but until she understood the situation a bit more she wasn't about to go telling the trio about it.

"Even if Snape is innocent," Hermione speaks up, glancing at her friends. "There's still a matter of Quirrell and the stone."

"How so?" Meissa asks.

"Suppose," Hermione starts lightly, her voice holding a pleading sound to it, "Snape was trying to force Quirrell to help him get it." Meissa grimaced at the phrasing but saw that Hermione wasn't trying to accuse the Potion Master of anything. "The fact that Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell know of the stone means that we can count them as the contributors for the stone's defenses. Hagrid and Dumbledore makes four."

"Who else?" Harry wonders.

"Harry," Meissa warns, "If we start figuring out who would be involved it's possible we would be putting ourselves in danger."

"Aren't we already in danger?" Ron interrupts and Harry nods his head in agreement.

Meissa made a face but sighed reluctantly. "Fine. I'm willing to bet that Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick is involved too."

"Why those two?"

"They teach the core classes of magic," Meissa answer simply.

"That makes no sense at all."

The raven haired girl sighs and tries to find a way to explain her suspicions.

"I believe that Headmaster Dumbledore had a reason to put the stone here in Hogwarts. And that reason would mean that his defenses would be simple but not overly simple."

"Where did you even come up with this?" Ron asks, almost gobsmacked by her theory. Hermione seemed to be the only one to realize the implication of what she was saying, her eyes widening as she pointed at the raven-haired girl.

"I spend a lot of time thinking," Meissa answers with a shrug, making a pointed effort to not look at the Gryffindor girl.

"Never mind that," Hermione interrupts before looking at Meissa, "Who do you think would be the seventh contributor?"

Meissa scratches her neck idly, thinking it over. "Let's see… I'm sure Dumbledore would be involved. We know about Hagrid. Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell know of the stone so they must be involved. I'll bet fifty galleons that Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout contributed something. Which leaves Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Astronomy. Astronomy and History of Magic is rather useless for defense of anything so that leaves Transfiguration." (2)

"Professor McGonagall?" Ron blurts out in disbelief, prompting Meissa to arch an eyebrow at him.

"Find that hard to believe?"

Hermione shook her head but the boys were still staring at her in disbelief. She just rolls her eyes at them before deciding that she's been gone enough from the others. So she bid them farewell and left for the Slytherin dormitories.

~MJB~

1) Muffliato - spell intended to ensure privacy in a conversation in public

2) 50 Galleons - $500 roughly