Introduction: Happy August 1st, witches! Not that there's something particularly special about today – except for the dozens of holidays that are celebrated today all around the world –, but in Brazil is just another ordinary day. August has the tendency of feeling like the longest (and sometimes endless) month of the year, so let's make the most out of it. I'll soon begin writing my Master's thesis, so wish me luck. I'd like to send a big shout out to TimeIsAStrategicWaltz, Rina, KaramelKat, Son of Whitebeard and James for the usual marvelous reviews. You guys are awesome! I'd also like to ask the 38 of you who are following this story, to also leave your comment so I know how you are feeling about the characters, plot and stuff. My question for you guys today is: which of the Hogwarts Mystery characters would most likely be your best friend (Rowan, Penny, Tulip, Tonks, Barnaby, Bill, Charlie or Andre)? I think I'd get along with Charlie (hence the fact that I'm a biologist), because he's super enthusiastic and goofy. What about you guys? Well, I hope you enjoy today's chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

Chapter Nine – Forget Me Not

Hogwarts is doomed.

I'm pretty sure of that.

Because how I am supposed to steal a key from Merula?

Should I actually attempt to use Reducio on myself again and sneak into Slytherin's Common Room?

That's tempting.

Very tempting.

September is ending and autumn is beginning, but the beautifulness of the changing leaves doesn't make me more inclined to steal something from Merula. This isn't nearly as easy as recovering the black quill from Gryffindor's Common Room.

Especially because there aren't psychos lurking inside Gryffindor's Common Room.

Like Ismelda, for example.

Rowan, Ben and I are spending our second blessed weekend at Hogsmeade, sitting at the Three Broomsticks, trying Madam Rosmerta's new Butterbeer. It's freaking sweet, but it's incredibly delicious.

We decide to take a walk around the village, our arms entwined to keep us warm. We're like a very weird human chain.

"Let's go to Honeydukes," Rowan says. "I need more caramels."

The store is completely full, but Rowan manages to grab a bunch of caramel boxes. I'm looking at some very interesting chocolates when Ben pulls Rowan and I down, to hide behind the shelf.

"What the fuck?" Rowan says, experiencing the awesomeness of foul-mouthing.

"Merula and her cronies are here," he whispers.

I raise my head a bit, just to see Merula's messy hair, looking at some candy in the shelf next to us. Barnaby has a mint candy box in his hand – the reason for the freshness of his breath, I suppose – and Ismelda is just looking at everything that with a disgusted face.

"We've searched everywhere," Merula gasps. "We're never going to find a Cursed Vault."

Is she really speaking of this in here, with a lot of people around?

"We should cast the Cruciatus curse on Lockhart and her friends," Ismelda says. "Torture makes everyone talk."

Ben looks at me with frightened eyes.

"Talking to you is torture," Merula sighs. "You have some serious issues, Ismelda."

"We should ask Dumbledore," Barnaby suggests, and I can't help but to giggle. "He's really smart."

"Dumbledore spent half his welcome speech telling us to stay away from the vaults!" Merula hisses.

"We could give him Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," he says. "I've heard he likes it."

"Sometimes I wonder if your brain was replaced by a Bertie Bott's Bean," she says, grabbing the mint box from his hand and putting it back on the shelf. "Let's get out of here."

"But I wanted some mints," Barnaby complains, but rushes after the two girls.

Ben, Rowan and I stand up; Ben's eyes expressing everything I'm currently thinking.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

The fact that Merula hasn't been able to find another vault gives me a boost of confidence during the Quidditch practice on Monday. Ben is still pretty terrified that Ismelda might cast an Unforgivable Curse at him, so he's walking around the castle with tremendous fear, jumping scared every time we pass by him.

Isaac and the boys certainly do not care that I'm a girl. They're merciless and fearless, throwing bludgers at me and almost knocking me off my broom. Still, I manage to catch the snitch fast enough, avoiding to be killed by those trolls.

"Keep up the good work," Isaac says, giving me a tap on my back. "We're gonna slay those Hufflepuffs with you in our team."

Andre didn't give up trying to give me a makeover. When I dismounted from my broom, my hair tied in a messy bun, he looked me from top to bottom and made several suggestions; from hair colors that would suit me best to what's my actual skin undertone. I rolled me eyes and simply walked back to the castle for lunch and another lesson with Professor Leech.

"Today we are learning about Carpe Retractum," he says, his fangs glistening under the candle lights.

There's something alluring about his voice, and I'm not sure it's because he's a singer or because he's part vampire.

Maybe both.

Every sentence that slides from his mouth seems to make Rowan and a lot of other students look more and more mesmerized. Rowan herself has her face rested on her hand, looking at him like she's seeing the moon for the first time. I avoid his eyes, simply making notes about the spell we're about to learn.

His lectures are long and somewhat melodic, and he glides around the classroom with his black cape flowing behind him, almost like he's floating. We lack the time to properly practice the spell, but I promise myself to try it on the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Rowan stays a little longer in class to ask a bunch of questions to Professor I'm-Gonna-Drink-Your-Blood and I walk alone to the Divination classroom. The pathway is clear and the warm breeze makes my hair flow from side to side. Right before I reach the stairs to the classroom, someone pulls me by my wrist. The citrusy scent finds me before I have the chance to turn around.

"Barnaby," I say, trying to look bored, though my heart starts racing when I meet his bright green eyes.

"Where's the next vault?" he asks, looking at me with raised brows.

I forgot how tall he is.

"I don't know," I say, placing my hands in my hips.

"Spit it out, Lockhart," he says, his hand closing around my neck. He doesn't apply any pressure, though I actually feel a little startled.

"Do I look like I'm lying?" I gaze intensely into his eyes.

His eyes seem to lose a little bit of the austerity; his brows relax and he seems a bit confused.

"You look flushed, actually," he says. "Are you okay?"

I frown. I honestly don't know what happens inside his head.

"I have class now," I say. "Can you let me go?"

His hand relaxes around my neck and he places it in his vests' pocket. My hand is drawn to my own pocket and I grab a small candy I got from Honeydukes.

"Here," I say, throwing the mint to him. "Your favorites."

He looks at the small greenish candy in the palm of his big hand and blinks at me with baffled eyes. I don't know how Merula managed to convince him to help her; he doesn't look like someone who would hurt me for power or fortune. In fact, he just looks a bit disoriented.

I turn my back to him and enter the Divination classroom with my heart still beating a little weirdly.

The evening before Halloween brings a grim, somewhat toxic atmosphere to the castle; and not only because of the fake moving spiders, bats and the real ghosts everywhere. Though Rowan is absolutely exultant to go study with Bill while I head to the dungeons, everyone else seems to be gloomy. Merula looks absolutely pissed all day long, Ben is awfully scared of every single decoration, Penny's face bears complete dismay and even Professor Snape looks distant and distracted.

"Professor?" I say when the potions turns bright green and his eyes get lost in the color. "We can't wait too long before adding the lily petals."

He swallows hard, starring at the perfumed flower petals in his hand. I'm not sure why he looks so aloof, so I simply grab the petals from his hand and add them to the potion, watching them dissolve and release an orange fume. He blinks a few times and presses his lips together, like something is terribly wrong.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine," he says, simply. "It wouldn't work out if you hadn't done it. I'm just… a little distracted today."

"Is everything alright?" I ask, wondering if he would ever share any preoccupation with me.

"Of course," he says. "Continue the potion. I'll be watching."

His voice carries a bit of sadness and it makes me think of Holly's words. Maybe, behind that dark and shadowy façade, he's just hurting.

I continue my potion in silence, carefully adding the ingredients one by one, like he taught me, until we're left with a pearlescent green solution. I add them to the bottles and label them, though he's not actually watching me as he said he would. Somewhere between my adding pondweed extract and fairy wings, he sat by his desk, holding his black quill but not writing anything. I watched him from the corner of my eyes, wishing there was something I could do about it.

He didn't look at me when I left the dungeons and went to the Great Hall, but his eyes were in my dreams that night; sad, lost and resentful… a thousand lily petals flowing around them.

Rowan seems to be completely thrilled on Halloween morning, brushing her hair until it got completely straight, smooth and shiny, waltzing by my side to have breakfast. Before we got there, I saw Penny lurking behind a statue, looking to both sides before rushing to the dungeons, looking awfully suspicious.

"I'll meet you in a second, Row," I say, rushing after Penny, finding her inside the Potions classroom, entering Professor Snape's private storage. "Penny," I whispered. "What are you doing?"

Her baby blue eyes were pure desperation.

"Help me find a few ingredients," she says, her words looking like a begging request.

"Are you stealing from Professor Snape's private room?" I say. "Why?"

"Please, Athena," she says, tears coming to her eyes. "You owe me."

Touché.

"But why are you doing this?" I ask.

"There's no time to explain," she says, climbing the wooden stairs to get to the higher shelves.

"Penny, this is wrong!" I say.

"I knew you wouldn't help me," she cries, grabbing a bunch of flasks and putting them in her pocket.

"Penny, wait," I say, grabbing her wrist as she tries running from the dungeons. "What the hell is going on? Why do you need these ingredients for?"

"Just help me," she grapples my sleeves with tears falling down her eyes. "Please."

I swallow hard. Her eyes gaze desperately into mine, her pretty face twisted in a sorrowful expression and I feel my heart slowly breaking. Whatever she's planning on doing, it's obvious that it's important to her. She helped me so many times in my attempts of finding my brother that I just can't refuse her. So I just nod and she grabs me by my hand, rushing corridor after corridor, until we get to Ben's old Artifact Room.

There's a bubbling cauldron on the floor, along with other ingredients, supplies and a piece of parchment with carefully written instructions.

She sits in front of the cauldron with her legs crossed and starts adding the ingredients, mixing them and counting the minutes to add the next one. I see Valerian sprigs, Lethe River water, mistletoe berries… These ingredients sound very familiar to me, but I just sit across from her, helping her when she asks me to chop the sprigs and to count as she stirs the potion fifteen times so she doesn't make it incorrectly.

I'm pretty sure we're going to miss breakfast, but I tell my rumbling stomach to shut up. I needed her and now she needs me. This cannot be a unilateral friendship; I need to be here for her as much as she was there for me.

It takes a while, but the potion finally turns into a translucent blue solution when she waves her wand at it. She fills a bottleful of potion and sighs, two glistening tears falling down her cheeks.

"Penny," I say, looking at her while she stares longingly to the bottle. "What's going on?"

Her eyes find mine and more tears fall down them.

"Remember how my boggart took the form of a werewolf?" she says, her voice trembling. "It wasn't just any werewolf," she swallows hard, her lips shaking. "Every summer my family spends time in the country… I had a friend up there… a Muggle friend," more tears fall along with her memories. "Scarlett."

She sniffs, trying to contain more tears, and I land a hand over her shoulder.

"Last year we went out for a walk and saw a werewolf," I can see her knuckles turning white for holding the bottle too tightly. "She was fascinated and wanted to see where it was going. I had my wand, but then it noticed us and I froze."

I feel my mouth opening, feeling slightly gaped.

"By the time I had the courage to do something, it was too late for her," she tells me. "She's dead because of me. It hurts to remember it, Athena. I want to forget."

And then I get it.

It's a Forgetfulness Potion.

I'm heartbroken. It is instinctive and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to a hug. She buries her face in my hair, sobbing and crying so hard that it sounds like an injured animal. I caress her hair tenderly as her tears wet my robes.

"Forgetting won't change what happened," I sigh, my mom's face coming to my mind. "What if you forget more than you intended to? What if you forget yourself?"

I repeat the same words Holly said to me when I hugged her and cried about wanting to forget my mother's passing.

"Our memories make us who we are. They make us stronger," she sobs a little less. "Scarlett would want you to remember her."

I hear the sound of something breaking when the bottle slips of her fingers and falls to the floor, the bluish potion spreading around our feet. Her arms surround me in a tight embrace and I let her sob for a few more minutes, until she raises her eyes at me and smiles sadly. I dry the last tears with my hands, her wet cheeks looking a bit smushed after having them pressed against my shoulders. Her blue eyes are a bit red and puffy and she sighs.

"How am I going to tell Professor Snape I stole from his personal storage?" she asks. "He'll hate me forever. I'll spend the rest of my life in detention."

"Don't worry about it," I tell her. "I'll talk to him."

"Will you?" I see another tear forming in the corner of her eye. "He'll probably listen to you," she sighs. "You're his favorite student."

I frown.

"I am?" I ask, the words making no sense to me.

"Of course," she says. "He wouldn't teach you after class if he didn't like you."

It still makes no sense that I might be the teacher's pet; especially Professor Snape's pet. But in that very moment I'm not worried about it. I wrap my arm around Penny's neck and walk with her to the Great Hall, where everybody is finishing having breakfast and it's almost time for me to start my daily classes.

By the time I finish the Quidditch practice, I'm starving; I join Rowan in the Ravenclaw table, wondering how I'll bring up the subject that I helped Penny steal from the potions storage. Millions of detentions and lectures pop in my mind, but when I take a look at the teacher's table, Professor Snape isn't there.

When we walk past the Potions classroom while heading to Professor Lorcan's lesson, I notice a sign attached to the door, with Professor Snape's handwriting:

Potions classes canceled for the day.

I exchange looks with Rowan, feeling somehow worried about him.

"At least we'll have more free time," she shrugs, and I'm not sure if I see this as a positive thing.

You're his favorite student, Athena. Penny's words haunt me during Professor Lorcan's lesson and I decide to skip my alleged free time and check on my Potions teacher.

You know.

Just in case.