Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls (Full Story)

by mortimorana

Ever just want to read a story start to finish because it's 12:30 on a school/work night and reading an entire book sounds like a good idea? Well here you are! The entire edited work of Marigold Rosenberg book two If you don't want to read an entire book (ya know, like a normal person) the story is in regular reading form as well. Art by Soldrawss (Tumblr and Instagram handle)

Marigold Rosenberg

and The Blood Stained Walls

Third Edition

The Rescue of Harry Potter

"Harry's in trouble with the ministry."

It was the day after Marigold's birthday and Mr. Weasley had just returned home from yet another early morning raid. Marigold was helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, so only the two of them heard the news.

"What kind of trouble?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking up from the eggs and hurrying over to her husband.

Marigold quickly took over the stove top, but still paid attention to the conversation the two of them were having.

"Apparently he used magic last night," Mr. Weasley answered, taking a seat at the breakfast table.

"What on earth for?" Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"Haven't the foggiest," Mr. Weasley said, taking off his hat and running his hand through his thinning hair.

Marigold flipped a couple pieces of bacon, doing her best to just blend in with the rest of the kitchen and hopefully hear more information before Mrs. Weasley realized she was still there and ushered her out of the room. She just knew that Mrs. Weasley would think this news would worry Marigold too much, and even though she was worried, she wanted to hear more.

"Arthur, what kind of spell did he use?" Mrs. Weasley asked, wringing her dish towel in her hands. "Was it accidental or did he use his wand?"

"Well seeing as the Improper Use of Magic Office sent him a letter, my guess is that it must have been intentional," he answered. "According to Rosie, the IUMO secretary I passed on my way out of the office, Mafalda Hopkirk sent the letter herself."

"Please tell me it was only a warning, Arthur!"

Marigold stopped breathing and listened, flipping the sausage patties as quietly as she could.

"It's just a warning, but if he does it again they might seek expulsion," he said miserably.

That was Marigolf's cue. She quietly removed all the food and put them in their designated plates and bowls, then turned off the stove and snuck out of the kitchen.

Harry wouldn't use magic on purpose without a reason, she knew he wouldn't. Something must have happened. Maybe the Dursley's are treating him so badly that this was a cry for help? Maybe he tried to protect himself and had to use magic to do so… maybe Voldemort had tried to attack him, Dumbledore had said he wasn't gone for good!

There could be a million reasons why Harry had used underage magic without being allowed to do so. She couldn't exactly write him a letter asking why either because letters had been a dead end all summer.

No, it was time to put her plan into action. She was going to bring it up soon enough anyway, what's a few days early? She just hoped they would help.

It was George who opened the door, looking quite disheveled. His hair was sticking up all over the place and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed.

"Good morn—"

"Harry's in trouble," Marigold loudly whispered, cutting him off.

"What do you mean, trouble?" Fred called from inside the room.

Marigold looked up and down the hall with a frown and, getting the message, George moved aside and Marigold walked into the room. Fred tossed George his pajama shirt and he pulled it over his head as he walked over to his bed and sat down.

"Alright, so what's going on?" Fred asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I need to give you a little backstory first," she said, beginning to pace across the floor. She kicked a blue wrapper out of her way and took a deep breath. "Alright, so Neville and I haven't heard from Harry since we left at Kings Cross," she said.

"But you've been sending all those letters!" Fred said, frowning in confusion.

"Neville and I have sent countless letters, and at first we thought maybe his aunt and uncle were keeping them from him, but now I'm not so sure."

"What makes you say that," George asked.

"Well, Harry voluntarily used underage magic last night."

"He what?" they gasped.

"I know," she said, wringing her hands. "I've been worried for weeks, and now I hear he's used underage magic and is in trouble with the Ministry…"

George was suddenly standing on her right and Fred on her left. They put their hands on her shoulders and she looked up at them. "What's the plan?"

Marigold breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, so I have it already figured out. I was going to let you in on it this Saturday if neither of us had heard from him, but things have changed.

"If I can get us to Harry's house, can you help me get him out of it without getting caught?"

"Of course we can sneak him out, Marigold," George said.

"Sneaky is kind of what we do," Fred agreed.

"But how do you plan on getting all three of us there and all four of us back without anyone realizing what's going on?" George asked.

"Easy, I've made enough Muggle Money mowing lawns this summer to get all of us there and back. It's just a train ride and a bus ride, and if we say we're students they'll give us a discount… why are you making that face George?"

"Marigold, Harry lives like, three hours away," George sighed.

"Trains and busses run at night," she said, "trust me, I checked. If we leave at just the right time and if we get Harry without any hiccups, then we can be there and back before anyone notices we're gone!"

"Marigold, the two of us will absolutely help you rescue Harry," Fred said, looking up at George who nodded. "But that has to be the worst plan ever. So much could go wrong."

"Fred's right," George said, putting a hand on her shoulder again. "Our pranks might look like chaos, but we plan for everything."

"It's why we rarely get caught," Fred added with a wink.

"Well, what do you suppose we do?" she asked, taking a seat on Fred's workbench and already feeling defeated.

Fred and George looked at each other and had one of the silent eye conversations Marigold was still trying to figure out how to understand. The two of them did a lot of shrugging and putting their fingers up in the air. By the time they turned back to her with grins on their faces, Marigold had long since given up trying to follow along.

"We're going to take the car," George said with a wide grin on his face.

"The car?" Marigold repeated dubiously.

George side eyed Fred with an even too their grin, then turned back to Marigold. "Do you remember the blue car we all took to the station last year?" he asked.

"Yes, but how is stealing your dad's car and driving there any better than taking the train? What if we get pulled over? None of us can drive!"

"Neither of us said anything about driving," Fred said, his smile quickly matching his brothers.

"But—"

"The car can fly," George said.

"The car can fly?" Marigold took a moment to compose herself. A flying car was a better plan… "But we can't steal your dad's car," she protested, groaning. "What if a Muggle sees us? What if a wizard sees us and your dad gets fired? What if—"

"Marigold," Fred said in a calming voice. "Relax, the car can turn invisible."

"And we can go at night, like you planned on doing anyway," George added. "Mum and dad won't even notice because they'll be asleep!"

Marigold thought for a moment. She was not thrilled at the idea of stealing the family car and illegally flying it across the country, but she was willing to do anything to get Harry back where she knew he was safe. Both Fred and George were wiggling their bushy eyebrows at her and she gave in.

"It's still, like, three hours, though," she said.

"Yeah," Fred said, waving it off, "but with no traffic, stops, or detours, we can probably cut the time down by quite a lot."

Marigold pursed her lips thinking. "You do have a point… alright, we go with the car stealing plan!"

"That's our girl," George said, clapping her on the back.

"We have quite a bit to plan," Fred said, going over to his desk and sliding everything off onto the floor with his arm.

He grabbed a large roll of parchment, and Marigold and George went over and watched as he scribbled on the page: The Daring Rescue of Harry Potter.

"How many days?" Marigold asked. "I need to tell Neville what's going on."

"Do you think that's a good-" Marigold glared so hard at Fred that he shrugged and went back to the parchment. "We'll go Monday night," he said. "Three whole days and two nights to plan will be more than enough, don't you think George?"

"Monday night, Marigold," George agreed. "Just don't send too many details through the mail," he said as she grabbed a small piece of parchment and started hashing out her letter.

"Don't worry," she said, dipping her quill into some ink. "I'll only tell him what he needs to know.

Dear Neville,

I'm going to rescue Harry. I won't be alone, the twins will be going with me, so don't worry. If everything goes to plan, we will have Harry back safe and sound long before the birthday party next weekend.

I'll fill you in then.

Wish us luck,

Marigold

The three of them planned their rescue meticulously. Since Marigold had already been spending so much time with the twins, it didn't seem suspicious for the three of them to be up in their room for long periods of time. Just to keep appearances, and make certain nobody started questioning things, they made sure to blow things up every once in a while.

They spent all of Saturday and Sunday meticulously plotting their route. They had to make sure that at no point they left any room for error. They were going to be operating a stolen, illegal, car with no drivers licenses, after all. They couldn't be seen.

The three of them had been way off on their initial time estimate. All three of them had been under the impression that they had to follow the already laid out roads, just up in the sky. When they realized they could just ignore all that and fly over houses and fields, they were able to come up with a route that would get them to Harry's house in about an hour!

Sunday night, George snuck down to the garage where the car was stored and checked to see if it had gas. That's where they got their first real hiccough in the plan. The tank was empty. So, Sunday morning, Marigold ventured into the little Muggle town and filled up a little red plastic gas can. The Muggle running the station had asked her what the gas was for, and she had told him her lawn mower was out. He left her alone after that.

With the route figured out and the tank full, all they had to do was worry about every perceivable problem and try not to get cold feet. It was hard though, so much could go wrong, and the stakes were really high.

The plan was to wait until midnight, when they knew everyone, even Percy, was asleep and then meet at the garage. They got their first bit of luck for the night when Mr. Weasley was called into work after dinner.

Marigold went to bed after saying goodnight to Mrs. Weasley and heard Fred and George follow several minutes later. As pleasantly as she could, she said goodnight to them, and turned into her room. Her hands were shaking with how nervous she was.

With Mr. Weasley being on a late night raid, there was one less adult to worry about; but so many things could still go wrong before they were even in the air!

Marigold watched the hours tick by on her wall clock. She knew she should probably be trying to get at least some sleep, but she was so anxious that it would be impossible to sit still let alone close her eyes.

Finally, the clock on her desk read ten to midnight. It was finally time to go. As quietly as she could, Marigold got out of bed, placed her premade note Mrs. Weasley on her pillow, and quietly made her way downstairs.

Mrs. Weasley,

If everything works out in our favor, you will never have to read this. But, if by some miracle you find out we're gone and do read this, then don't worry. We're safe, I promise. Fred, George, and I are going to rescue Harry Potter.

He hasn't been writing back all summer, and his close call with the Ministry of Magic was too much for me to take. I had to do something.

Please don't be mad at the twins, it was all my idea.

I really hope you never read this…

With love,

Marigold.

George was waiting for her by the garage, covered in dust and sweat. The car was already gone. He and Fred had pushed it to the end of the driveway and then some, just to make sure that when they started it up, it wouldn't be heard. Marigold was secretly glad that they had done it without her, even though the plan had been for her to help.

Marigold and George walked in silence to the car. Fred was already sitting in the driver's seat. George went to sit up front and Marigold climbed in the back next to the snacks and maps.

There was a moment's pause as the three of them looked at each other, wondering if anyone was going to back out. When no one did, Fred started the car and they were off. Fred drove a little ways down the road, flipped a switch, and suddenly they were soaring to the sky.

They emerged above the clouds and Marigold was awestruck at the sight surrounding her. The stars were glittering back at her, spread across the sky as far as the eye could see. The moon was a beautiful waxing crescent low on the western sky. The pillowy clouds below them seemed to go on forever.

"It's beautiful," George whispered from the front seat.

"Very…" Marigold agreed.

"Okay, now, I agree it's beautiful, but I kinda need to know where I'm going," Fred said, gesturing to the map next to Marigold.

"Right!"

For the next few minutes, Marigold directed Fred on where to go. They had planned their rout so meticulously that, unless something went very wrong, they wouldn't have to dip below the clouds and risk being seen.

It was about fifteen minutes later that they were sure they were on the right track and Marigold put down the map. The sky really was beautiful. The car was a little chilly, but it wasn't too bad. The whole world was tinted blue and Marigold could almost feel how early in the morning it was.

"So, Marigold," George said, turning around in his seat and looking back at her.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Fred and I have been wondering all summer about what you, Harry, and Neville did to win back all those points."

"Oh," Marigold said, feeling her heart beginning to beat really fast. "I'm sure you heard all the rumors about it."

George looked over at Fred who nodded but didn't take his eyes off the sky. "We wanted to hear it from you," George said, looking back at her.

Marigold looked down at the map in her lap. She supposed talking about it might be a good idea. She had been trying to ignore it for so long, to just move passed it… but she probably should talk about it.

She had considered sending a letter to Charlie, but found out pretty quickly that trying to get everything down on paper wasn't going to work. Ginny and Ron had been trying to get her to tell them all the dirty details all summer, but for some reason Marigold didn't think they actually cared. Neville obviously didn't want to talk about it, so that left Fred and George… She supposed the two of them would actually understand… maybe… Oh well, what harm could it do?

"I'll tell you, but it's a long story."

"We have a long time before we get to Harry's aunt and uncle's house," Fred said.

Marigold took a deep breath. "It all started when Draco Malfoy challenged Harry to a duel, like an idiot…"

As Marigold recounted the events of her first year, the twins did their best not to interrupt. However, there were some points in the story where they just couldn't help themselves.

"You can do magic without talking?" Fred interrupted, when Marigold got to the part with the troll in the bathroom.

"What did you see in the mirror?" George butted in several minutes later.

"Wait, that's why you guys lost all those points, helping Hagrid? Sorry again for giving you the cold shoulder, Marigold," Fred apologized when Marigold reached the part about Norbert (who she later found out was actually Norberta).

"You fought a full grown mountain troll? On your own?" There was shock and awe in George's voice.

When Marigold finally finished telling them about her entire first year, having spared no detail, the car was dead quiet. Marigold was waiting with baited breath for either one of them to say something, anything at all. She wasn't sure if she felt better, if it was the uneasy silence or if it might just be too soon to heal.

"I had no idea that that was what it was like…" Fred whispered, not looking away from the sky that stretched out in front of him. "The rumors made it seem like the three of you had an easy time of it."

Marigold didn't say anything in response. She just continued looking at the same sky.

"No wonder you never want to play chess with Ron," George said.

The three of them let those words sink in for about a second before they burst out laughing.

Marigold felt better.

The rest of the car flight was easy. They only had to duck beneath the clouds once to get their bearings. The second, and last time they ducked below the clouds was when they were in Harry's neighborhood trying to figure out just which house was his, then which window he was in.

They were quickly able to identify which window was Harry's, seeing as it had bars over it. Marigold was filled with an intense rage as they peered the headlights into his room.

When the lights hit Harry, the three of them watched as he mumbled himself awake. When he realized what he was looking at, he rushed to the window and opened it. Marigold rolled down her car window.

"Marigold? What the-how did-"

"All right, Harry?" Fred asked.

"Why haven't you been answering my letters?" Marigold demanded. "There I was, going out of my mind with worry, when Mr. Weasley told us you had gotten in trouble with the Ministry. And here you have bars on your windows! Bars!" she hissed.

"It wasn't me- how did he know?"

"He works for the Ministry," George said, an air of amusement at Marigold's outburst.

"-and you know we're not supposed to use magic outside of school!" Marigold continued.

"You should talk," Harry said, motioning to the floating car.

"This doesn't count," Fred laughed. "We didn't enchant it. But Marigold's right, doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with-"

"It wasn't me! Look, I can't explain now, it would take too long, could you just tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and I can't use magic to get myself out…"

"Oh my god, Harry. Do you really think we came all this way just to chit-chat?" Marigold asked, rolling her eyes. "We're here to rescue you!"

"But you can't use magic to get me out either!"

"No need," Fred grinned. "Catch!"

Fred tossed Harry a rope, which Harry proceeded to tie around the bars.

"If the Dursleys wake up, they'll kill me."

"Just stand back," George said.

Marigold watched as Harry disappeared into the back of the room. She held her breath as the car revved louder and louder. With a large crunching noise, the bars were off the window. Marigold and Fred lowered the bars quietly to the ground before dropping the rope.

"Get in!" Marigold insisted.

"But my things! My trunk! My wand!"

"Where are they?" she asked.

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room."

"No problem," George said, crawling catlike through the window and into Harry's room.

"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing how to pick locks like Muggles, but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow. I'll get your stuff. You hand anything you need from your room and pass it to Marigold."

Marigold watched as George disappeared downstairs. When he was out of sight, the three of them got to work loading up the car with everything Harry could grab. George took a couple trips grabbing things from downstairs, but was quiet enough that the Dursleys weren't disturbed.

Finally, everything was in the car.

Harry was just climbing out the window when they heard a loud screech, followed by a howl from Mr. Dursley.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!" Harry said, panicking.

"How do you forget your owl?" Marigold yelled.

Harry tore across the bedroom as the landing light clicked on. He snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it to Marigold, who was nearly knocked back with the sheer force that Harry had passed it with. Harry was scrambling to the window when Mr. Dursley hammered on the unlocked door, causing it to crash open.

Marigold and the twins didn't wait for the situation to sink in for Mr. Dursley. They quickly grabbed Harry by the arms and yanked him into the car.

"Get us out of here!" Marigold screamed, and Fred stepped on it.

As the three of them hurdled toward the moon, Marigold watched as Harry's hair whipped about and a grin broke out on his face.

"See you next summer!" Harry yelled back to a red faced Mr. Dursley.

The four of them erupted into a fit of laughter as they disappeared into the night sky.

"Let Hedwig out," Harry said. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had the chance to stretch her wings for ages."

Marigold passed the cage to George and, seconds later, Hedwig was soaring beside them, looking more like a ghost than an owl.

"So, what's the story, Harry?" Marigold asked, dying to hear the answer. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? Why did you use magic?"

"Well, I spent a month thinking you and Neville had forgotten about me," Harry started. "I hadn't gotten a single letter, and Uncle Vernon wouldn't let me let Hedwig out of her cage, so I couldn't write to you to ask what was going on. It wasn't until my birthday that I found out what was going on.

"Uncle Vernon was hosting a dinner party that night for someone he wanted to sell drills to, you know, boring Muggle stuff," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "A little while before they arrived, I was sent off to my room to pretend I didn't exist, like always, but when I opened my door, a small creature was jumping on my bed."

"What was jumping on your bed?" Fred asked.

"A house-elf named Dobby," Harry answered.

Fred and George whistled.

"Um, what's a house-elf?" Marigold asked.

"Not sure exactly," Harry said, "but it was the size of a toddler and had ears the size of my hands and eyes the size of golf balls. Even stranger, he was wearing a dirty old pillowcase instead of regular clothes."

"Hose-elves work for really wealthy wizarding families," Fred said. "They do all the chores and tend to the house. They're basically servants."

"Well, whatever they do," Harry said, "this one was intercepting my mail. He wanted me to think you and Neville didn't want to be friends anymore so I wouldn't want to go back to Hogwarts."

"Why would a random house-elf not want you to go back to Hogwarts?" Marigold asked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, according to him, Hogwarts isn't safe," Harry said with a frown. "He said that it would be better if I didn't go back this year. I obviously told him he was crazy, and that of course I was going back to Hogwarts. He was not pleased. He ran downstairs where the dinner party was in full swing, and used a hovering charm to drop Aunt Petunia's pudding all over the wife of Uncle Vernon's coworker before disappearing.

"Uncle Vernon was more pissed than ever and after putting bars over my windows, said I would never be going back to Hogwarts. It didn't help that I got a letter from the Ministry and they found out I was lying when I threatened to curse them if they treated me badly."

"Very fishy," Fred said.

"Definitely dodgy," George agreed.

"Did he say why Hogwarts wasn't safe?" Marigold asked. "Did he say if it had anything to do with Voldemort?"

Fred swerved so much that everyone in the car was jolted around.

"What the hell, Marigold?" he yelled, "don't say that name!"

"Sorry," Marigold said, picking the map up off the floor of the car.

"He wouldn't tell me anything," Harry said, sounding annoyed. "Every time he got close to letting something slip, he would start banging his head against the wall.

Fred and George exchanged glances.

"Do you think he was lying to me?" Harry asked.

"Well," Fred paused, "house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon ol' Dobby was sent to keep you from coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," Marigold and Harry said in unison.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained.

"Ah, yeah, that would make sense…" Fred said nodding.

"I heard dad talking about Lucious Malfoy once. You know, Draco's dad…" George said, turning around in his seat again. "Apparently he was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. But when You-Know-Who disappeared, he turned around and said that he'd never meant any of it."

"Dad says that's bull, though," Fred added. "He thinks Lucious Malfoy was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."

Marigold wasn't at all surprised.

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house elf," Harry sighed.

"Well, I'm glad we came to get you," Marigold said. "I've been frantic all summer. Neville isn't any better off either, you know. We thought the Dursleys were keeping your mail from you. We never would have thought a house-elf was keeping your mail."

They spent the next few minutes making sure they were still on track. Luckily, Fred's jolt hadn't taken them off course at all, and they were due to arrive in about fifteen minutes.

"So," Harry said once they were sure that they were on track. "Does Mr. Weasley know you have the car?"

"Uh, no," Fred answered, tapping on the wheel absentmindedly. "He had to work tonight. We have everything figured out so that we should be back way before anyone wakes up, let alone notices our absence."
"What does he do for the Ministry, anyway?"

"He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," Marigold answered.

"The what?"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made," George said. "You know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an old antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare, Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?" Harry asked eagerly.

"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place. One man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic, it's only him and an old warlock named Perkins in the office, and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up—"

"But your dad… this car…"

Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles. Our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

They had ducked down below the clouds again. The main road was beneath them.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Fred said, lowering the car to the ground. "Good thing, too, my eyes are tired,"

They drove slowly down the road. The car was invisible, but it was so early in the morning that they weren't particularly worried about coming across another car.

"We're a little way outside the village Ottery St. Catchpole," Marigold explained. "You didn't get my letters, but I got a job mowing lawns for the Muggles that live there."

Fred turned off the engine the moment the house came into view. Everyone jumped out and pushed it to the garage, passing the lopsided sign reading The Burrow and weaving through a mess of chickens.

Harry wasn't really pushing, but Marigold couldn't blame him; he kept looking at the Burrow with awe.

"It's wonderful," he whispered, causing Fred and George to blush a little.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," Marigold explained, brushing the dirt off her hands and onto her jeans. "You will be staying in Fred and George's room. There's a blanket and stuff already set out. We'll sneak in and go to bed. Later this morning, I'll go down and help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast, like usual. You'll come down with Fred and George and they'll tell her you unexpectedly turned up over night! She'll be happy to see you, and she won't know about our little adventure tonight."

"Right, but I don't think that's going to work out so well…"

"Why not?" Marigold asked.

Fred and George suddenly looked very sick. Knowing the reason, Marigold slowly turned around. Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard. Marigold had never seen Mrs. Weasley look so furious and was suddenly worried that her welcome in the Burrow could be coming to an end.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a paisley night robe with her wand sticking out of the pocket.

"So," she said.

"'Morning, Mum," George said cheerily.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" she said in a deadly whisper.

"I'm so sorry, but we had to-" Marigold tried.

All four of them cowered as her rage broke over them.

"How dare you?" she shrieked. "I go down to the kitchen to get a glass of water and I see your hands on the clock not where they are supposed to be! I was worried sick! Your beds were empty, your note was vague, the car was gone! You could have DIED! You could have CRASHED! I've been out of my mind with worry, but did you care? Never as long as I've lived- you just wait until your father gets home. We never would have had trouble like this from Bill, or Charlie, or Percy-"

"Perfect Percy," Fred muttered.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job-"

Mrs. Weasley turned on Marigold next, causing her to flinch, expecting a blow. Noticing Marigold's violent reaction, Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"Marigold Rosenberg-"

"I am so very sorry, Mrs. Weasley," she said, her voice shaking. "We planned out everything! We-"

"I'm very disappointed."

Marigold hung her head as Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry who backed away.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said. "Come on in and have a snack. Then off to bed, the lot of you."

As Harry stared at everything in the house, Mrs. Weasley bustled about in the kitchen making a quick batch of toast for a snack. Every once in a while she would throw dirty looks at the twins and Marigold, muttering all the while.

"Of course I don't blame you, dear," she assured Harry as she loaded his plate. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Marigold by Friday."

Marigold was surprised. They had known?

"Of course we knew," Mrs. Weasley said, noticing the look on Marigold's face. "I hand you your mail every morning. Did you really think I hadn't noticed that you were only getting half the number of letters you sent out? But honestly, flying an illegal car halfway across the country…"

"It was cloudy, Mum!" Fred insisted.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

After their snack, Marigold and the boys were sent off to bed. Instead of the floor and blankets they had set up, Mrs. Weasley put Harry in Charlie's old room, which he was thankful for.

Marigold was happy to crawl in bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep. She had a dream about a crashing car and a crying Mrs. Weasley, but when she woke up, she didn't remember a thing.

Marigold woke up and helped with breakfast like usual. When Ginny came down and saw Harry at the breakfast table, she ran upstairs again. Marigold made a feeble excuse for her, all the while knowing the real reason she had ran away.

Breakfast was eventful for about two minutes. Ron wanted to know how Harry had shown up, and Fred and George immediately started rambling out the story. But with one hard glare from their mother, the story came to an abrupt end.

After breakfast, Harry went out to de-gnome the garden with Fred, George, and Ron. Marigold helped clear dishes instead. She had de-gnomed the garden before and had been bitten. She wasn't excited to do that again.

Just as Marigold had finished wiping down the table, Mr. Weasley walked in the door. Without a word he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. He had just taken off his glasses and closed his eyes when the boys rushed in.

Marigold passed Mr. Weasley the teapot he was blindly groping for as the boys took their seats at the table again. Marigold took her seat next to Harry.

"What a night," he mumbled, rubbing his temples. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when my back was turned."

He took a sip from his tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" Ron asked eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle. There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't in my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness…"

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" George asked.

"Just Muggle-baiting," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it… Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking—they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe…"

"LIKE CARS FOR INSTANCE?"

Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.

"C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars," Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."

Mr. Weasley blinked.

"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that… There's a loophole in the law, you'll find… As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't—"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure that there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in that car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry?" Mr. Weasley said blankly. "Harry who?"

He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.

"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Marigold's—"

"These three flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, pointing to Marigold and the twins with the poker. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. "Did it go all right? I- I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that- that was very wrong…"

"Let's go," Marigold muttered to Harry, as Mrs. Weasley turned red in the face.

Marigold and Harry escaped the kitchen just in time. Marigold led the way to her room.

When they got there Marigold shut the door, which put a buffer between them and the loud voice of Mrs. Weasley. Marigold flopped down on her bed while Harry sat at her desk.

"I haven't gotten the chance to say it, with all the commotion, but, happy birthday, Harry," Marigold said after a few moments.

"You too, Marigold. I'm sorry, but I didn't get you anything," he said, looking at his hands.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I haven't gotten you anything either. We haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, so I haven't been able to get anything for you or Neville. Speaking of Neville, we're going to his house this Saturday to celebrate."

Harry looked up, excitement in his eyes.

"Really? Like a party?"

"I mean, it's just going to be the three of us and his Gran, but yeah. He told me that he was going to plan everything out himself, so that should be something."

"Definitely something," Harry agreed with a smile.

Marigold and Harry spent the rest of the day catching up. Marigold figured it would be best not to mention the letter she got from her father for her birthday, deciding she would bring that up at a better time.

They only stopped talking when Mrs. Weasley called them down for dinner, at which, Mrs. Weasley, not so subtly, gave Harry extra helpings.

It's My Party, I'll Cry if I Want To

Harry fit right in at the Burrow. Marigold could tell he was enjoying his newfound freedom almost as much as she had. Whenever she mowed lawns down in the Muggle town, Harry would tag along and spend the day wandering around town. Marigold traded him some of her Muggle money for his wizarding money so he could buy ice cream and other treats.

When they weren't in town, the two of them spent time with Fred and George. Harry also got along with Ron (to Marigold's slight dismay, since they just played chess all the time).

Ginny was like a little mouse, running away at the mere sight of Harry. Marigold spent time talking with Ginny in her room whenever Harry and Ron were busy playing chess in the living room. Ginny never confessed her crush on Harry, and Marigold didn't bother her about it.

Mr. Weasley seemed very fond of Harry, asking him every question about Muggles he could think of. Marigold had been asked similar questions, and it was amusing to see Harry fumbling for answers.

Mrs. Weasley was the best of all. No matter what meal, she would pile Harry's plate up so full that he could barely finish. It wasn't just meals, either. Any chance she got, she fed Harry. Marigold didn't know that her respect for Mrs. Weasley could have risen any higher, but she had been wrong.

It was two days after their adventure when Marigold received a reply from Neville.

Marigold Rosenberg,

Why can't you tell me? You better not have done anything illegal!

If everything worked out as planned… hi, Harry.

Don't worry about writing me back, since I'll be seeing you on Saturday anyway. I planned everything, so it should be a blast.

See you soon,

Neville

P.S. Gran wanted me to tell you to tell Mr. Weasley that our fireplaces aren't hooked up to the network right now (I don't know why) so you will have to Apparate here. Sorry for the trouble.

When Saturday finally dawned, Marigold and Harry woke up very excited. The party at Neville's was going to be a sleepover, so they weren't leaving until Mr. Weasley got off work at seven.

The day couldn't have passed by any slower. Both Harry and Marigold kept looking at the large clock in the kitchen. They were checking on it so often that Mrs. Weasley had to ban them from the kitchen entirely. They spent most of the day in Harry's room (Charlie's old room), talking about anything and everything.

At seven they rushed downstairs, overnight bags in hand, hoping to see Mr. Weasley walk through the door. As the minutes crept by, they got antsier and antsier, until half an hour later when Mr. Weasley finally arrived.

Seeing their excitement at his return, he didn't even bother changing from his work clothes.

"Alright," he said, sticking his arm out. "Grab my arm and we'll head out."

Knowing what to expect, Marigold took a hold of his outstretched arm. The moment Harry grabbed on, Marigold felt herself being pressed from all sides and contorted as they traveled. Her stomach whirled and her chest felt like she was being hugged too tight. Just when she felt like she couldn't handle any more, the squeezing stopped. Her stomach rolled and she fought the urge to throw up.

Harry, however, quickly rushed over to some bushes and threw up. Marigold immediately felt horrible. She had tried to convey what Apparating felt like, but she apparently hadn't done a good enough job.

As Harry recovered, Marigold was finally able to look at the house in front of her. It was rather large, but homey looking. There were two stories, and the second story had a large circle window smack in the center. There were several types of flowering plants creeping up the side of the house, several of which wrapped around the circle window. It was dark out, but Marigold was sure the house was a light blue. The windows on the first story were square with pale white shutters that almost glowed in the moonlight, and under each one were little shelves with potted plants on them.

Marigold could tell the house had been around for a long time, but the house itself didn't look old. The paint looked almost new, and the windows were clean. Even the ornate door, with its ivy looking carvings, looked freshly painted.

Marigold was well aware that Neville's family was an old wizarding family, and she wondered how long the house had been in the family. Once Harry had straightened up, the three of them walked in through the hedges and up the pavement toward the ornate door.

Mr. Weasley knocked, and Harry and Marigold waited in anticipation. After a few seconds, Mrs. Longbottom answered the door and ushered them inside. The front room was warmly lit. Yellow light made the whole room seem welcoming. Marigold and Harry were directed to put their coats in a large wardrobe. They had a little trouble because it was full of expensive and outrageous looking coats. Their shoes had to be taken off and placed neatly in a cupboard under the stairs, which Harry pointed out was gigantic..

Mrs. Longbottom herself was wearing the most ridiculous of the coats. It was a rather large, wooly thing that must have been on a sheep no less than an hour ago. She must have dressed up for the company, seeing as it was rather warm in the house. She had the smallest hat Marigold had ever seen pinned to her twisted up hair.

She informed Harry and Marigold that Neville was in his room on the second story. The two of them didn't wait for Mr. Weasley to leave. They quickly thanked him for dropping them off, and ran upstairs to find Neville's room.

They found Neville behind the first door on the second floor. He was organizing a pile of exploding snap, straightening a bowl of cauldron cakes, and dashing around the room like a mad man. It was a rather large room, and there was a desk in the corner with all his books and school supplies scattered about. Trevor had a tank on a table in the corner opposite. Neville's bed had a canopy almost exactly like the ones at Hogwarts. If the drapes had been crimson instead of green, Marigold would have sworn he had stolen them from his dorm. Marigold stopped examining the room when Neville caught sight of the two of them standing in the doorway.

"Marigold! Harry!" he exclaimed, rushing to hug them both. "Happy birthday!"

"You too, Neville," Harry said, beaming.

"Harry, we were so worried about you! I'm glad you're okay. And Marigold, traveling across the country on a daring rescue mission? Tell me everything."

The three of them sat down on the floor, and Marigold told Neville the story of how she and the twins stole the car and flew to get Harry. When Harry's part of the story came in, he piped up, but Neville didn't say anything until they were done.

"I'm pretty sure nobody would've known until I didn't show up for the Hogwarts Express, but... my gran would kill me if I ever did that."

"I wasn't expecting to get caught, but when we did, I was sure Mr. Weasley would be missing a couple kids when he went to the platform because for a minute there I could have sworn Mrs. Weasley was going to kill us." Marigold giggled.

"To be honest though, she seemed more upset with Mr. Weasley than she was with us," Harry said, laughing.

"Do you really think Dobby was sent to scare you just for a prank?" Neville asked.

Marigold and Harry sobered up and looked at each other.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Seems like an elaborate prank, though I don't know if I trust his judgement though, either."

"Let's not worry about it," Marigold said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Right!" Neville said, scrambling to his feet and grabbing the deck of exploding snap cards. "Let's play!"

After playing a few games of exploding snap, Neville decided enough was enough. It was time for presents. Marigold and Harry tried to protest seeing as neither of them had gifts to give, but Neville wasn't having it.

"I don't care," Neville said, reaching under the bed to grab two poorly wrapped gifts. "You can give me your presents on the train or something. I want to see you open these up."

No offence to Neville's wrapping skills, but the gifts looked slapped together at the last minute. However, Marigold thought the paper was amazing. The wrapping paper had little cartoon brooms that zoomed all over a blue stationary. Some kept disappearing into the folds only to reappear seconds later on the other side of the gift.

Harry went first, ripping through the paper. Inside he found a pair of black socks. Worried that Harry didn't like the gift, Neville quickly explained that they were enchanted so they couldn't get wet and soggy, and that they would be perfect for Quidditch. Harry was overjoyed.

Marigold went next, carefully unwrapping the broomstick-covered wrapping paper. Inside of a long, thin box, she found a beautiful silver chain.

"It's for your locket. It's bewitched so that it never gets tangled. Gran found it in a jewelry box we didn't know we had and she bewitched it herself."

Marigold was ecstatic. She had tinkered with her own chain so much over the summer that she was thinking of leaving it behind when she went to Hogwarts. She quickly removed her locket and the ring from the Weasleys and switched them over to the new chain.

"It's beautiful, Neville. Thank you!"

"So, Neville, What do you have in store for us next?" Harry asked.

"Well, I've never really had a sleepover," Neville said, blushing. "I thought that exploding snap would last longer."

"Well it was you who wanted to stop playing and open presents." Marigold said laughing.

"I was excited," he said sheepishly.

"There's a Muggle game called truth or dare… I've never played it, but I saw a couple kids playing it when I was at Muggle school," Harry suggested.

Marigold wasn't very keen on the idea, but she had anticipated something like this happening. She had overheard the girls in her dormitory trading secrets late at night. Apparently truth or dare was something that happened when friends get together.

"Let's start off easy," Harry said. "Truth or dare?"

Marigold pondered for a moment before choosing. "Dare," she said.

"Okay, I dare you to sing the Hogwarts song," Harry decided.

"What? Come on!"

"You picked dare, Marigold," Neville said, coming to Harry's defense.

"Fine," she said with a groan. Doing her best to sound as awful as possible, Marigold belted out the school song. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts. Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. Teach us something please, whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees, our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff, for now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff, so teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn until out brains all rot!"

By the time she was done squeaking her way through the song, Neville and Harry were rolling on the floor laughing. Blushing, Marigold grabbed a pumpkin pastie.

"So, Harry," Neville said, a mischievous grin on his face, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," he said quickly, obviously not wanting to have to embarrass himself with a dare.

"If you could jinx Snape without getting caught, what jinx would you use?"

"Ohhh, that's tough. Honestly, I don't think I'd jinx him, I'd rather just punch him in his large nose like Marigold did."

"It's a shame I don't really remember doing that," Marigold said sadly. "It was definitely one of the year's highlights. Ah well, truth or dare, Neville?"

"Dare?" he said hesitantly

"I dare you, to…" Marigold looked around the room. "I dare you to kiss Trevor!"

"That's gross!" Neville exclaimed.

"But how do you know he's not your prince charming?" Marigold teased.

Neville groaned and went over to kiss Trevor. Nothing happened of course, but Neville went to brush his teeth for five minutes.

"You suck, Marigold," Neville said when he returned.

"I'm hurt," Marigold said, putting a hand on her heart. "I only wanted you to find your one and only, your true love."

Harry and Marigold burst out laughing.

"Fine, truth or dare, Marigold?"

"Dare!"

"I dare you to kiss Trevor."

"Come on, no repeats!"

"That's not fair!" Neville protested.

The game continued on, the three of them taking turns telling the truth or doing something ridiculous. Harry had to eat one of the Bertie Botts beans that Neville had hidden from his grandmother under his bed. It nearly broke Harry's tooth.

Neville had to stuff as many cauldron cakes into his mouth as he could. He managed three, with much difficulty. As a result, his face looked three times larger than usual. Marigold was reminded of a chipmunk.

Harry had to tell them which professor he would go on a date with if he had to. He said that he thought Professor Sprout had a great personality.

Marigold had to sneak down to the coat closet and grab one of Neville's grandmother's coats and hat. It was way too big, much too fluffy, and she looked ridiculous. Neville and Harry couldn't stifle their laughter, and when they heard Mrs. Longbottom coming down from her room, they frantically threw everything back in the wardrobe and hid until they couldn't hear her anymore.

Neville had to drink a little bit of firewhisky, so they had to sneak back downstairs and into the kitchen. Neville grabbed the bottle from the pantry and chugged it down like it was water. He soon regretted that decision when he nearly threw up in the sink.

"It burns!" he gasped, fanning his mouth and filling a glass with water.

"It can't be that bad," Marigold said, taking a swig from the bottle.

It was, in fact, horrid. Harry, wanting to see what all the fuss was about, took a drink next, and he too, nearly threw up. When they got back to Neville's bedroom, all three of them were a bit red in the face, and Neville was giggling uncontrollably.

"Truth or dare?" Harry asked Neville.

"Truth."

"Do you like anyone?" Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Neville blushed. "Harry, that's not-"

Mrs. Longbottom chose that moment to appear in the room, causing Marigold and Harry to groan. Luckily for Neville, she told them it was time to go to bed. She conjured up two small mattresses and some blankets then left the room. Not wanting to upset the stern witch, the three of them got ready for bed. When they were in bed, Mrs. Longbottom came back and told them that the light was not to turn on, and they were to go promptly to sleep.

They lasted nearly three minutes before Harry announced that he wasn't tired. Harry and Marigold stuffed their sheets under the covers of their beds. That way, if Mrs. Longbottom looked in, she would think they were asleep. They then hopped onto Neville's bed. Neville closed the curtains, and the three of them sat in the dark trying to see each other.

"So Neville," Harry whispered. "You never answered me. Do you like anyone?"

"I like a lot of people," Neville said, trying to sound casual.

"You know that's not what I mean," Harry said.

Their eyes were finally adjusting to the dark, and Marigold could see that Neville was fidgeting a lot.

"I dunno, Harry. Do you like anyone?"

"Your Gran seems pretty nice," Harry teased.

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Marigold said. "Let's drop the truth or dare."

"Fine."

Marigold rolled her eyes and flopped down with her head on Neville's pillow. With a shrug, Harry laid down next to her on the left. After looking at them for a moment, Neville took the spot on her right. The three of them just stared up at the canopy for a while.

It was nice spending time with the two of them when they didn't have to work on homework or worry about other people in the common room listening in on their conversation.

She reached out and grabbed Harry's hand in hers. He gave her hand a quick squeeze but didn't say anything. When she reached for Neville's, he flinched and she quickly moved her hand away. After a split second, his hand was reaching out for hers.

She had missed them, of course, but she hadn't realized just how much she had missed them until just now.

"So, do either of you have nightmares, or is it just me?" Neville whispered.

Marigold had been waiting for this. It was only a matter of time before it came up. She hadn't talked to Harry about it all week. She had had the opportunity, but for some reason never said anything.

"It's not just you," she said.

Harry stayed quiet for a long time. "Yeah, I've been having them too," he finally admitted.

"You don't think, well, you don't think anything bad will happen this year, do you?" Neville asked. "I mean, what if it wasn't a prank… what if Dobby really was trying to warn you? What if Hogwarts isn't safe?"

"What are the odds Voldemort has one of his minions roam loose in our school looking for life saving rocks a second year in a row?" Harry answered.

"I guess you have a point," Neville said, though he didn't sound convinced.

Marigold also wasn't too sure. The twins had made a convincing argument, but something still wasn't sitting right. If Dobby was right, and Hogwarts wasn't safe, what were they going to do? They had barely survived going after the Sorcerer's Stone…

It seemed that neither Neville nor Harry knew what to say either. Marigold could remember everything as if it had just happened. She had made a lot of choices that night, most of which were stupid and reckless and wrong.

"Hey, Neville?" she whispered,rolling her head over to look at him. "I'm really sorry."

"For what?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"The chess game… I should have found another way to win…"

"Don't," he said. "You were sure we would win, so you made a call. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if we had lost… Not only would Quirrl have possibly stolen the Stone, but the chess pieces could have attacked all three of us."

"You make a good point," she said miserably. "But I still shouldn't have done it. It should have been me."

"Marigold, I can't begin to understand what you were going through but I know you were doing your best to keep us safe. We won because you made that call. Besides, you gave me the chance to say no."

"Neville, she sacrificed you," Harry whispered, reminding them he was still there.

"Yeah, but what other choice was there?" Neville said, a little defensively.

"Like literally any other choice, Neville," Harry said, ripping his hand away from Marigold's and sitting up in the dark. "We could have-"

"What?" Neville said, sitting up as well. "Waited for another opportunity? I'm pretty sure we were losing the game up until then. We had like four other pieces, Harry."

Marigold slowly sat up and backed away so that she wasn't in the middle of the two of them anymore. Her back hit Neville's headboard and she wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Maybe we were losing," Harry whispered angrily. "But we all saw what the white pieces did to us when they took us out. Her plan to win could have killed you, Neville."

"But it didn't," Neville said, his voice coming out like a warning.

"But it could have!" Harry yelled.

The three of them froze and listened to see if Mrs. Longbottom had heard him. Harry was seething with rage and Marigold was actually a little scared.

"Neville," Harry said in a low voice, "that blow the white queen gave you broke your sternum and several ribs. The only reason you didn't die is because Marigold had that potion."

Marigold's heart stopped. Goosebumps erupted all over her body and she felt cold.

"Damn it, Harry!" Neville hissed. "You promised me that you'd never bring that up with Marigold."

"Yeah, well, she deserves to know," Harry said with a huff. He turned to her and she flinched into the headboard. "Marigold, you deserve to know that you nearly killed Neville with that justifiable decision you made."

Marigold covered her mouth with her hands. She felt like she was going to be sick. She had nearly killed him. She had nearly killed her best friend. Her head felt like it was spinning. Everything started to sound like it was coming from far away. Harry and Neville were sitting right in front of her, she could see them, but their voices sounded a hundred million miles away.

"That's not fair, Harry," Neville said.

"Why are you so okay with this?"

"Because I trust her, okay?" he said, throwing up his hands. "I trusted that she had made the right call! I believed in our mission. I believed in stopping Snape from bringing back You-Know-Who.

"Don't you see? I made the decision to do whatever it took to keep the Stone from falling in You-Know-Who's lap before we even left the Gryffindor common room! Besides, I could have said no."

Marigold's eyes were going out of focus and she was really, really dizzy.

"You don't sacrifice your friends, Neville," Harry argued. "You just don't do that!"

"Do you think I wanted to make that call?" Marigold whispered, her own voice sounding like it was coming from another room.

Both boys turned to look at her and she winced.

"Don't I get the benefit of the doubt, Harry?" she asked, tears beginning to fall down her face. "I was playing a giant chess game with pieces that could kill us at any turn. Do you really think I would be so cold as to make that decision lightly? It killed me, alright? I hated myself the second I gave Neville the choice. I knew he would do it! I knew he would say yes!

"You're right, friends don't sacrifice friends, but what was I supposed to do, Harry? Please, tell me what I was supposed to do!"

Marigold covered her face in her hands and waited for Harry to yell at her.

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"I don't expect either of you to forgive me," she whispered, "because I don't forgive me. I'm so sorry I nearly killed you, Neville, and I'm sorry I betrayed your trust, Harry." Marigold lowered her hands. "I-I'll go wake up your gran and ask her to take me home."

Marigold moves to get off the bed, but Harry grabbed her hand and stopped her. He didn't say anything, but she didn't make any more effort to get up. They stayed like that, in silence, long enough for Marigold's breathing to go somewhat back to normal. Harry's hands were warm.

"I don't hate you," Harry whispered, breaking the tense silence. "I didn't understand how you could have made that decision. I was wrapped up in the fact that you made it that I didn't really think too much on why you had to. I still don't think it was the right call, but… but I'm no longer angry with you. I forgive you."

"I do too," Neville added.

Marigold took a shaky breath and tried to calm herself down. Harry gently rubbed her hand with his thumb and Neville put his head on her shoulder. Slowly, everything went back to normal. Marigold wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You know, Neville," Harry said, cracking a small smile. "All of this could have been avoided if you had just told us whether or not you liked anyone."

Marigold couldn't keep herself from snorting. She covered her nose, appalled at herself, but the damage was done. Harry and Neville were laughing themselves silly.

Everything went back to normal. Marigold scotched back down so she wasn't huddled against the headboard. She crawled under the covers and motioned for Harry and Neville to join her.

Neville asked Harry if he was excited for Quidditch to start back up, and Marigold listened as they talked, just staring up at the green canopy and feeling at peace.

Everything had worked out. They had forgiven her. For the first time since summer had started, Marigold felt at peace. She fell asleep without realizing she had.

Marigold woke up with a tiny gasp. It took her a moment to realize where she was and what had happened. Her hair felt like it was clinging to her face and neck, and she tried to control her breathing.

"Are you alright?"

Marigold nearly screamed. She looked to her right and saw that Neville was staring back at her.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Did I wake you up?" she whispered, really hoping she hadn't.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I woke up a little while ago."

"Nightmare?" she asked.

"Mhmm," he nodded.

"Me too," she said.

Neville's eyes crinkled around the edges. "Listen to Harry," he said, stifling a laugh.

Marigold turned to look at Harry and nearly snorted again. He was sprawled out on his stomach, his face somehow half way under the pillow, somehow snoring and drooling at the same time.

"He's drooling onto your bed," Marigold whispered, turning back to Neville.

"Is he really?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Take a look!"

Neville propped himself up and looked over her at Harry. He shook his hand and laid back down.

"How has he not drowned himself in his sleep?" he asked.

Marigold snorted again before groaning and covering her face with her hands. Neville didn't say anything and she was grateful. The two of them just laid there for a while, listening to Harry as he snored like an old man. Every once in a while, he would murder something unintelligible and bury his head deeper under his pillow.

"Hey, Marigold?" Neville whispered.

"Yeah?" she whispered back.

"I know I already asked this, but, do you think this year will be like last year?"

"I've been wondering that myself," she confessed. "Harry made light of it earlier, but I honestly don't know. It's very possible that Voldemort could come back again. I mean, when I woke up in the hospital wing, Dumbledore was there… He seems to think that Voldemort will come back someday."

"Does he?" Neville sounded surprised.

"Yeah, and I have a feeling that since we have Harry as our friend we will be having more years like this last one. So, to answer your question, I don't know if it will be this year, but I do think we will have times where things are scary and dangerous."

Marigold looked over at Neville. He was staring at the canopy seemingly lost in thought. Her eyes were starting to get heavy, and she felt like she was going to fall asleep soon whether she liked it or not.

"Neville?" He turned to look at her. "I'm sorry I nearly got you killed."

"I told Harry not to mention that," he sighed. "As soon as Madam Pomfrey told me, I knew it would eat you up inside if you ever found out. I really shouldn't have told Harry, but I thought he wouldn't say-"

"I'm glad Harry told me," she whispered. "I learned a valuable lesson."

"I forgive you, you know," he said, grabbing her hand. "I'll tell you until you believe me, and forgive yourself."

"You know, Nev, I'm really glad we are friends. I couldn't have asked for better friends than you and Harry." She was falling asleep rather quickly. "You are the best, best friends a girl could ask for."

"I couldn't be happier being your friend."

Marigold closed her eyes, just for a second.

"You know, as mean as it is to say, I'm glad you lost Trevor your first day."

"As mean as it is to say, I am too."

Marigold was drifting off to sleep.

"Good night, Goldie."

"Good night, Nev," she mumbled, before promptly falling asleep.

Glamorous Smiles and Dirty Fistfights

Neville's grandmother came in around ten o'clock to wake them up. She was not pleased that all three of them were in Neville's bed. She made it very clear that she and her grandson would have a talk once Harry and Marigold had left. Neville was bright red by the time she was done chastising him. Even Harry's face looked a little pink. Marigold, however, didn't see what the big deal was. They were having a sleepover anyway; did it really matter that they had slept in the same bed?

Either way, after a rather large and messy breakfast of toast, eggs, and sausage, which the three of them made themselves, Marigold, Harry, and Neville waited around for Mrs. Weasley to arrive. They talked about all the silly things they had to do last night, whispering in hushed tones when it came to Neville having to drink some of the Firewhiskey and how Marigold had to try on some of Mrs. Longbottom's crazy clothes. They hardly even noticed when Mrs. Weasley showed up.
Mrs. Longbottom ushered Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen looking rather pink in the face. Marigold and Harry bid Neville a quick goodbye, promising to meet up with him when they went back to school shopping at Diagon Alley.

When they got back home, Harry handled Apparating much better than before. When they walked in, the two of them went to unpack their overnight bags. A few minutes after she had finished putting her belongings away, Marigold heard a knock at her door.

Mrs. Weasley came in, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Um, Marigold. Neville's grandmother… Mrs. Longbottom, told me about this morning. How you and the boys slept in Neville's bed together."

Marigold sat down on her bed, Mrs. Weasley hesitated but accepted Marigold's invitation to join her.

"Seeing as Harry is, well, a boy… and not my son… it's not really my place to talk to him. You however-"

"I don't really understand the problem."

"Well, I would assume not. Seeing as, well-"

"Seeing as I didn't have friends growing up?"

"Well, no… that's not the issue," Mrs. Weasley said, rather uncomfortable still. "You just turned twelve, and, well I can understand that boys are…"

"Oh goodness, no. Harry and Neville are great, but it's not like that for any of us. We're just friends. We just stayed up late talking about Hogwarts, and ended up falling asleep."

Mrs. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief. "Hogwarts, huh?"

"Yeah… we finally had a talk about what happened last year… it was needed."

"I see. I suppose the three of you are doing better?"

"Yes, it was rough there for a bit, but we made up." Marigold shrugged.

"I've been meaning to ask you how you were doing, but you seem better," Mrs. Weasley admitted.

"You were?" Marigold was surprised.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "Well, to be honest with you, Marigold, there is little that goes on in this house that I don't know about. Aside from the goings on in Fred and George's room, that is. So, I knew you weren't doing very well. I didn't know the specifics until recently. Now, don't think they were betraying your trust, but Fred and George told me about what happened, they wanted to know how to help you."

Marigold didn't know what to say. She certainly didn't think they would tell anyone when she told them; but the fact that they told Mrs. Weasley somehow made her feel happy. Maybe it was because they cared so much to ask how to help her.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. I think I could help, but I won't unless you want me to. I don't have experience with what happened with you, but I do have some experiences that I think could help."

"You do?" Marigold's interest was peaked.

"My brothers were a part of the war against You-Know-Who. I heard a lot of their stories before…" Mrs. Weasley trailed off, looking quite sad. "Their situations aren't similar; however, how we deal with these things is. So, if you ever need anyone, my dear, I'm here."

Marigold only nodded. She didn't really know what to say.

A few days later, Harry and Marigold were sitting at the breakfast table. Ginny was crouched under the table, hurriedly cleaning up a bowl of porridge that she had toppled over the moment they had entered the room. Harry had pretended not to notice, but Marigold knew her constant klutziness confused him. She hoped that Ginny would get over her awkwardness. Marigold was sure the two of them would get along well.

Mr. Weasley entered the room, holding a stack of letters. He passed each of them a letter, addressed in green ink. Hogwarts letters! Marigold and Harry quickly opened their envelopes. Marigold found the most important information on the last page.

Second-Year Students Will Require:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

Fred, who had finished his own list, looked around at everyone else's and noticed that everyone was told to buy the same books.

"The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan," he said, "bet it's a witch." He shut up quickly when Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

"That lot won't come cheap," George said, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive…"

"Well, we'll manage," Mrs. Weasley said, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

"I discussed going to Diagon Alley with Augusta Longbottom," Mr. Weasley piped up. "She said she would bring Neville when we decide to go, so we planned on Wednesday."

Marigold couldn't wait.

Early Wednesday morning, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up. They had a quick breakfast, and then got ready to go. They crowded around the kitchen fireplace and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantle-piece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy more today… Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!"

She offered him the flowerpot, which he just stared, confused.

"He's never traveled by Floo powder," Marigold said, suddenly realizing why he was so confused. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

"Never?" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"

"I went on the Underground-"

"Really?" Mr. Weasley asked, eagerly. "Were there escapators? How exactly-"

"Not now, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before-"

"He'll be fine, Mum," Fred said. "Harry, watch us first."

They all watched as Fred took a pinch of the glittering powder, and threw it into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped into it.

"Diagon Alley!" Fred shouted, before promptly vanishing.

"You must speak clearly, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right gate."

"The right what?" Harry asked nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight too.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly-"

"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," Mr. Weasley said.

"But how would we ever explain this to his aunt and uncle if he got lost?"

"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney."

"I'll go first, Harry. To make sure you make it." Marigold said, grabbing some of the Floo powder. "Just don't stress too much. You got this."

Marigold stepped up to the fire, threw in the powder, and stepped in. She had forgotten just how much soot was involved, but she managed to call out Diagon Alley. Marigold felt her stomach drop as she took off. The roaring in her ears was deafening, and the spinning was nauseating. The fire didn't burn her, but it was definitely uncomfortably warm. She hoped Harry would be ok.

When the spinning stopped, she found herself in the Leaky Cauldron, covered in soot, and very, very dizzy.

"Who's next?" Fred asked as he and George helped her dust off the best they could.

"Harry," she coughed.

They waited longer than it should have taken for Harry to show up. When the fire lit up, they all breathed a sigh of relief. But when Mr. Weasley stepped out, Marigold started worrying all over again.

"What happened to Harry," she asked.

"Oh no, I was hoping he made it."

"What happened?" Marigold asked again.

"He choked on the soot and garbled his words," Mr. Weasley answered.

The other's arrived one by one. Each time the fire erupted, Marigold got more and more anxious. Finally, Mrs. Weasley arrived.

"He's not here, is he?" she asked.

"No, he's not. Hopefully he only went one gate too far," Mr. Weasley replied.

"What do we do?" Marigold asked.

"Split up and look for him, I suppose," Mrs. Weasley answered.

"Right, Fred, George, you go looking with Marigold," Mr. Weasley said. "And no going in Knockturn Alley."

"But what if that's where Harry is?" George protested.

"Absolutely not," Mr. Weasley snapped.

Fred and George grumbled a lot, but the three of them headed out of the Leaky Cauldron and onto the busy alley street. Once they were out of sight from the Weasleys, the three of them took off toward Knockturn alley.

"Was there any chance we weren't going to Knockturn alley?" Marigold asked, as they quickly weaved in and out of the witches and wizards doing their shopping.

"You're kidding right?" Fred laughed.

A little ways in the distance, Marigold saw a familiar face looming over everyone else.

"Guys?" She pointed to the large figure.

"Right!"

They ran faster, hoping to get a little help from their friend.

"Hagrid!" Marigold panted, having run out of breath. "Have you seen- oh my goodness, Harry!"

"Hey, Marigold," Harry answered.

He was covered in soot, a little bruised, and his glasses were broken, but he was okay.

"Thank goodness we found you,," Fred said.

"Where were you?" Marigold demanded.

"Some shop in Knockturn Alley."

"Knew it!" George said, grinning.

"If it weren't for Hagrid here, I surely would have gotten lost."

"Weren' no trouble," he said, patting Harry on the back making him lurch forward.

"Well, we should really go meet up with the rest of the family," George said.

"You're welcome to come too, Hagrid," Marigold said.

The five of them made their way back to the leaky cauldron, where they met an agitated Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. When the two of them saw Harry, they rushed over. Mrs. Weasley frantically dusted him off, tutting about how she should have given better instructions and how she was so happy he was okay. Mr. Weasley fixed Harry's glasses with a tap of his wand.

"Well, gotta be off," Hagrid said. Marigold was sure he was uncomfortable with how much praise he was getting from Mrs. Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). "See yer at Hogwarts!"

Hagrid strode away; he was not quite able to disappear into the crowd, seeing as he was head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.

"Well, now that Harry's back, all we have left to do is wait for Mrs. Longbottom and Neville to show up," Mrs. Weasley said, fussing over Harry a little bit more.

Everyone took a seat at one of the large tables in the Leaky Cauldron. Fred, George, and Ron kept asking Harry how Knockturn Alley was. Harry just told them it was dark, dirty, creepy, and that the people that went there were no good. Ginny was listening, but she was doing her best to look occupied.

When Neville and his grandmother finally showed up, everyone took off for Gringotts bank. Harry quickly filled Neville in on what happened, but he also had more to tell the two of them. They hung back, giving them enough space so that they could talk, but also look like they weren't up to anything.

"Draco Malfoy and his dad were there," Harry said.

"There where, you didn't exactly tell us where you showed up in Knockturn Alley?" Marigold asked.

"Right, well I flew out of a fireplace in a dimly lit, creepy looking shop, Borgin and Burkes. It had all sorts of weird knick knacks; like a bloody pack of playing cards, a hand on a cushion that I would bet ten galleons was real, there were even human bones!"

"What?" Neville gasped.

"I know! So I was on my way out of the store when Draco Malfoy and his father came sauntering in. I hid inside a large black cabinet and luckily neither of them saw me. The store owner appeared, and I kid you not, out of nowhere. He was going out of his way to please Mr. Malfoy.

"But Mr. Malfoy wouldn't buy anything. He said he was selling. They started talking about the raids the Ministry has been conducting, and about Mr. Weasley. Malfoy and his dad argued a lot, they talked a lot about Hermione and about you, Marigold. Apparently the two of you have the highest grades, which bothers his dad because Malfoy is apparently doing poorly in school. Eventually Mr. Malfoy had haggled all he could, and everyone left, then I was able to escape."

"I wonder what Mr. Malfoy has that could shake him up so much that he would want to sell it?" Neville pondered.

"Well, knowing the Malfoys, I would assume nothing good," Marigold said.

"What's not good about the Malfoys?" Mr. Weasley asked, having appeared right beside them at some point.

"I saw Mr. Malfoy and his son in Borgin and Burkes," Harry said, just as surprised as Marigold at how Mr. Weasley had showed up so suddenly.

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Mr. Weasley demanded.

"No, he was selling-"

"So he's worried," Mr. Weasley said, with grim satisfaction. "Oh I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley snapped, from up ahead, apparently having been listening.

The two of them started squabbling as they entered Gringotts bank. Neville went off with his grandmother and a goblin to go to their vault. Marigold and Harry accompanied another goblin and the Weasleys to their vaults. Marigold, who had received her key last year, and had put it in her room at the Burrow, had had to find it early before heading to Diagon Alley. Now it was in the small Peruvian Vipertooth, dragon hide pouch she had received for her birthday from Charlie. The pouch also contained all the Muggle money she had received from mowing lawns and the ring she had gotten for her birthday.

They stopped by her vault first, she had never visited it, but it was a small door no bigger than that of a safe. When she looked inside she found all the funds for her seven years at Hogwarts, divided into six pouches. As she grabbed the one labeled two, she wondered who had divided all the money. She was sure to find all the money she needed for this year, plus some for extracurricular expenses.

They then went to the Weasley vault. Marigold felt her heart sink when she saw its contents. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one Gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag.

Marigold wondered, not for the first time, if her staying in the Weasleys' care was putting too much of a burden on them. As her father always told her, taking care of kids was expensive and it wasn't always worth it.

When they got to Harry's vault, Harry tried his best to hide the mountains of coins behind his door. He quickly shoveled handfuls of coins into a leather bag. Marigold knew how he felt.

When they got back to the entryway of Gringotts, everyone dispersed into the heavy crowd. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley headed off in one direction, while everyone else kind of disappeared. After giving Neville a small pouch of coins, Mrs. Longbottom muttered something about new robes and left. Eventually it was just Marigold, Harry, and Neville, who had been waiting with his grandmother when they arrived.

Mrs. Weasley didn't fail to leave them with instructions, however. They were all to meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy their school books. They were also not to step one toe into Knockturn Alley.

"I have some money to exchange, then we can head out," Marigold said, taking her Muggle money out of her pouch.

Marigold originally had no intention of using the money, simply wanting to save it up. However, she had birthday presents to get for the boys.

The three of them wandered around Diagon Alley, bags of coins jingling, wanting to be spent. Harry bought the three of them raspberry and chocolate ice cream cones, which they happily ate as they peered into windows.

They bought their school supplies first, giving them extra time to wander around. Marigold wanted to spend some more time in the Apothecary, but Neville couldn't handle the smell, so they left. She hadn't been able to explore the year before since Professor McGonagall wanted to leave too. All she wanted was to look at all the freaky things in jars… maybe next year.

They found a joke shop where they met up with Fred and George and their friend Lee Jordan. The three of them were stocking up on No-Heat Fireworks. Marigold got Harry's present there after watching him goggle at the Snitch Snatcher! A board game that simulated a game of Quidditch.

On their way to Flourish and Blotts, Marigold stopped by a street vendor whose cart had all sorts of plants on it. It looked like a small square jungle right in the middle of Diagon Alley. All sorts of plants were growing off it. The small canopy that hung over the potted plants had little flowers that almost looked sewn on. It wasn't until she got closer that she realized the whole canopy was made from the strange flowers. The little wheels on the cart had prickly vines wrapped around the spokes.

Marigold told Harry to keep Neville busy while she talked to the vendor. Marigold knew that Neville liked plants. He had confessed during the birthday party that he had planted some of the flowers in the window boxes. The vendor had a lot of enchanted plants and a few that were inherently magical. Marigold looked at all the plants, going round and round the cart trying to find the perfect one. A few of them were so pretty that she had to remind herself that she was here to buy something for Neville, not herself.

She finally found her gift, after circling the cart so much she was dizzy. She had almost missed it because it was so small. Inside a small pot, no bigger than her hand, was a small tiger lily. It had petals that were so orange they looked fluorescent. Whenever she moved, it turned to follow her. When she cocked her head in confusion, the flower moved to imitate her. Most importantly, and amazingly, when she went to pick it up, it growled at her.

Seeing her interest in the tiger lily, the vendor appeared out of nowhere. "I see you've found the Sumatran Tiger Lily. All the way from Indonesia, they magically grow where a Sumatran tiger has been poached. For some reason, they are imbued with the personality of the tiger that died there. This one was just a cub, so it's a very small flower. It's four galleons."

Marigold looked back at the small lily, which had been moving toward her hand, possibly to bite her.

"I'll take it."

The vendor boxed it up and told her to be careful with it.

Marigold met up with Harry and Neville and the three of them made their way to Flourish and Blotts, and they were no means the only ones doing so. As they approached it, they saw, to their surprise, a large crowd pushing and shoving their way into the bookstore. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

Gilderoy Lockhart

Will be signing copies of his autobiography

Magical Me

Today at 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

"We actually get to meet him?" Marigold asked, astonished. "He's written almost all the books we have this year."

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed looking wizard stood at the door doing his best to create order out of all the chaos.

The three of them squeezed inside. A long line wound its way through the whole shop and ended where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2, and snuck up to meet the rest of the Weasleys and Mrs. Longbottom.

"Oh, there you are, good," Mrs. Weasley said. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a moment…"

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of himself; all of which were winking and smiling. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that matched his eyes. His pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

Marigold was enamored, as he was very handsome. She had had a fantasy book when she was younger and Lockhart looked like the spitting image of a king. He had blond hair that was so shiny a crown belonged atop it. Though, the slightly askew wizard's hat looked good. He had the most regal smile Marigold had ever seen.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

The photographer knocked into Neville, who in turn bumped into Marigold causing a scene. To Marigold's horror, it gleaned the attention of Mr. Lockhart himself, who leapt to his feet.

"It can't be Harry Potter?" he shouted.

The chaos of the already crowded bookshop got worse. The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Lockhart grabbed Harry by the arm, and pulled him to the front. Harry looked absolutely mortified. The crowd erupted into applause, and Harry's face turned bright red as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away like a madman.

After Lockhart let go of Harry's hand, Harry tried to slip back with Marigold and Neville, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side. Marigold could tell how upset Harry was.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography—which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge—" the crowd applauded again. "He had no idea," Lockhart continued, "that he would shortly be getting so much more than my book Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The room went nuts. Marigold watched as Harry was presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Neville and Marigold exchanged glances. Harry staggered over to the edge of the room. Marigold quickly gave Mrs. Weasley her money to get her books, and then she and Neville went to join Harry.

Harry was standing next to a bright-faced Ginny who had the new books in her new cauldron. Marigold could only assume Harry had given them to her.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" a voice rang out, before Marigold or Neville could say anything to Harry.

It was a voice none of them had trouble recognizing. The three of them turned to find themselves face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. Marigold thought he looked odd, not wearing his school robes. He looked like one of his parents had dressed him. While her and the others were wearing casual clothes, Malfoy was wearing rather dapper robes. They looked tailored to Malfoy. He looked entirely too small to be wearing such a thing.

"Famous Harry Potter," Malfoy said. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Ginny snapped, beating Marigold to the punch. Marigold realized that this was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. Ginny was glaring at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Malfoy mocked. Ginny went scarlet.

"Knock it off, Malfoy!" Marigold snapped, stepping in between Ginny and Malfoy.

"Or what?" Malfoy taunted.

"Marigold, there you are!" Mr. Weasley said, making his way over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well, Arthur Weasley."

Marigold could only assume that the man who had a hand on Malfoy's shoulder was Mr. Malfoy. He had the same pointed face and identical cold, grey eyes. His robes, well they seemed to fit him perfectly. Marigold could see now why Malfoy was such a prat.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Mr. Malfoy said. "All those raids… I even heard you took in a young ward," he looked down at Marigold, sneering. "I hope they are paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Marigold fought the urge to attack Mr. Malfoy, the anger boiling up inside her.

"Obviously not… Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly," Mr. Malfoy responded, his eyes drifting back to Marigold. "The company that you keep, Weasley… opening your home to such… people… and I thought your family could sink no lower-"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying. Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads.

"Get him, Mr. Weasley!" Marigold yelled.

Mrs. Weasley, who had been drawn to the commotion like everyone else, started shrieking for Mr. Weasley to stop.

Hagrid's voice boomed over everyone, and Marigold turned to see him wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a bloody lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl- take your book- it's the best your father can give you."

Neville had to grab Marigold to keep her from tackling Mr. Malfoy, who pulled himself from Hagrid's grip, beckoned to Draco, and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," Hagrid said, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that—no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter –bad blood, that's what it is—come on now—let's get outta here."

Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with fury. Mrs. Longbottom was trying to pretend that she wasn't amused with the whole ordeal, but Marigold could tell that she had had a fun time.

"A fine example to set for your children… brawling in public…what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought—" Mrs. Weasley was saying.

Marigold, Neville, and Harry, listened to the two Weasleys bicker all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Marigold and Harry said goodbye to Neville, promising to save him a spot on the train. Then everyone made their way over to the fire to go back home to the Burrow. When they got back, Harry confided in Marigold that he really, really didn't like Floo powder.

Home Again, Home Again, Nearly Expelled

Over the last part of summer, Marigold did a lot of juggling. Harry and she would go down to the little Muggle town, and Harry would walk around aimlessly while Marigold mowed lawns and tended to other odds and ends around town. She was doing her best to earn enough money to make up for what she used to buy Harry and Neville's gifts. When she wasn't mowing lawns, she was poring over the notes Percy gave her or reading through Gilderoy Lockhart's books. She also enjoyed spending her time with the Weasley family, particularly Ginny, who was starting to get nervous about Hogwarts.

The two of them spent a lot of time reading outside in the garden and punting the occasional gnome over the fence. Because Marigold was always so busy working on homework or mowing lawns, as the summer went on, their time together was less and less.

In Marigold's absence, Ginny started spending more and more time in her room writing in her diary, until she didn't want to read with Marigold anymore. How she stayed so dedicated to it was beyond Marigold. So, Marigold started spending even more time working on homework and mowing lawns.

Lockhart's books were amazing, but even more amazing was Lockhart himself. The things he had done in his travels! Marigold not only thought he was handsome, but she aspired to be like him. Though his books didn't actually tell her how to get rid of such dangerous creatures, they did tell her what he had done! He had banished the Bandon Banshee, saved a village from a werewolf, and had even dealt with vampires!

This year was going to be so much better than last year! She remembered being excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts, last summer, and how that the class had turned out to be a dud with Quirrell/Voldemort being their teacher. But with Lockhart, things were going to be amazing!

Harry didn't seem as interested in Lockhart as Marigold was. In fact, for some reason Harry seemed to detest their future professor. Marigold would do her best to talk to Harry about the books, but Harry wouldn't even bother to read them. Instead, he spent his time goofing off with Ron. Eventually Marigold stopped bothering, chalking all Harry's annoyance up to a bad first impression.

Marigold also spent a lot of time taking care of the Sumatran Tiger Lily she had bought for Neville. Since they had decided at the party that they would be exchanging gifts on the train, she had a couple weeks to bond with the lily. The vendor had told her that it just needed all the things the plant needed to survive such as sunlight, water, the occasional fertilizer. She kept the lily on her desk while she studied, talking to it, occasionally having to move it and keep it from nudging her quill off the desk.

She wanted so badly to keep it, but she had bought it for Neville, and she knew he was going to love it. She kept reminding herself that it was his, but she also told the flower. She wasn't sure if it could understand her, but she didn't want it to get upset when she had to pass it along to Neville.

The day before they all had to return to Hogwarts came far too soon. Everyone had a wonderful day of hanging out and laughing, wondering what the new school year would bring. When Mr. Weasley finally got home from work, everyone sat down to a wonderful dinner that Marigold and Mrs. Weasley had whipped up. The twins did their best to push how late they could stay up, but after they begged three times for "just one more cup of cocoa", Mrs. Weasley got fed up and ordered everyone to go to bed.

The next morning was absolute madness. Nobody was up on time, Marigold was the only one who had bothered to pack the night before, and breakfast was chaos. When everyone had piled into Mr. Weasley's amazing car, they were already running late. To make matters worse, they had to return to the house several times; the first was when Fred had forgotten some of his firecrackers, the second when Ginny realized her diary hadn't been packed.

When they finally got to the station, Marigold, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny ran ahead to get to the train in time for Ginny to find a good first seat. Because they were so late, Marigold promised Harry she would get them a good compartment, then disappeared through the barrier.

Unlike last year, Platform Nine and Three Quarters wasn't as packed, probably due to the fact that most everyone was already on the train. Marigold quickly said her goodbyes to Miss Weasley, who gave her a quick hug and went back to helping Ginny find a compartment.

Marigold went off and tried to find a compartment of her own, hopefully one with Neville in it. Marigold finally found Neville toward the back of the train..

"Where's Harry?" Neville asked, helping Marigold with her trunk.

"He was right behind me at Kings Cross but I went through the barrier first. He's probably just looking for us," Marigold said, shrugging.

"How was the rest of your summer, Marigold?" Neville asked.

"Really busy, I finished all the books for the year. Did you read Lockhart's? Aren't they amazing?"

"No," Neville said, a look of annoyance on his face. "I tried reading the vampire one... but didn't like it."

"Didn't like it? That one's my favorite!"

They were silent for a moment. Marigold looked out the car window and saw the big clock on the platform.

"Where could he be, the train leaves in less than a minute?" Marigold asked, suddenly anxious.

"I'm sure he's just looking for us, like you said. We are at the back, after all," Neville said.

A minute later, the train whistled and started to pull out of the station. Marigold and Neville exchanged a nervous look.

The longer the two of them waited, the more obvious it was that Harry might have missed the train altogether. About fifteen minutes after the train left the station, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan knocked on their car door.

"Heya Marigold, Neville," Dean said. "Have either of you seen Ron?"

"No? Have either of you seen Harry?" Marigold asked.

"Harry's missing, too?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah, I thought they were right behind me when I came through the barrier. Something must have happened."

"What could have possibly happened?" Dean asked.

"No idea..." Marigold said, with a sigh.

"What other ways are there to get to Hogwarts?" Dean asked, looking around the compartment.

"Hermione mentioned once that a long time ago people would travel to Hogsmeade, a small wizarding village nearby, and then walk to Hogwarts... But I have no idea how they would even make it there…" Marigold trailed off.

"Well, I guess we can just tell someone once we get there?" Neville suggested.

"Yeah! Someone at school will be able to figure it out," Marigold said.

"Do you guys mind if we stay here with you?" Dean asked.

"I have exploding snap," Seamus added.

The four of them played exploding snap for a while, but nobody was really into it. Dean and Seamus eventually left, saying they wanted to see some other people before arriving. Marigold and Neville didn't talk for a while. They were both preoccupied with their thoughts.

Marigold stared out the window, wondering what could have kept their two friends off of the train. They had been right behind her.

"Well, I might as well give you your gift now," Marigold said, grabbing the lily box and handing it to Neville.

She hadn't wrapped it aside from a bow since she hadn't wanted the lily to suffocate, if that was even possible.

Neville opened it slowly, as if he somehow knew to be delicate. When he saw the lily, and it moved toward him, his eyes grew wide.

"How did you get one!" Neville asked, completely astonished.

"There was a vendor in Diagon Alley. Do you like it?"

"Like it? It's amazing! You've had it for a while, haven't you? What's its temperament like?"

"Mischievous," Marigold answered, thinking back to all the times it had tried to steal her quill. "The vendor told me it's the soul of a cub, that's why it's so small."

"I was wondering about that." Neville was grinning ear to ear. Marigold felt pleased, and matched Neville's smile. "Did you name it?" he asked.

"No. I wanted you to do that." Marigold laughed.

"Right, um, how about... Dora?" he said after a while.

"Why Dora?"

"For Gryffindor? Dora?" It was more of a question than an answer.

Neville was blushing. It seemed as though he was embarrassed by the name now that he had said it.

"I like it!" Marigold said, reassuring him.

"Wanna know something weird?" Neville asked, putting the box down.

"You know I do," Marigold said, sitting forward in her seat.

"Harry told me once that he was almost put in Slytherin," Neville said. Dora the flower was bobbing its petals with the train movements.

Marigold couldn't say she was surprised. Harry did have a lot of the traits that the house of Slytherin admired. He was very resourceful, and when he put his mind to something, he could be very ambitious, and when it came to plots concerning Malfoy... Harry could be very cunning.

"It was more of a passing comment, I guess. It was back when you were in the hospital wing after the troll. We had run out of things to talk about and were unable to sleep. He told me that the sorting hat really wanted him to go to Slytherin, but he begged to be in Gryffindor. It just got me thinking, you know? What would have happened-"

"Had he been put in Slytherin?" Marigold finished.

Neville nodded. "Do you suppose he would be friends with Malfoy?"

"Nah," she said, with a smile. "Do you remember the train ride to Hogwarts last year? Malfoy asked to be friends, and Harry shot him down. I'd like to think that the three of us would still be together... but to be honest, I don't know what would have happened.

"The sorting hat almost put me in Hufflepuff," she continued. "I went after the both of you, after all, and it thought that my loyalty to you would help me do well in Hufflepuff. It decided that after all I had been though," she paused. "That after all I had been through I must have had real courage... so I went to Gryffindor."

"We could have been together either way."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I went first. The hat kept insisting that I belonged in Gryffindor... but I was begging to go to Hufflepuff. I was, and still am, intimidated by everything Gryffindor's stand by. So if I had gotten my way, we could have been together."

"Yeah, but then Harry went and was placed into Gryffindor... I would have had to choose which one to go to, choose between the two of you. Which I guess the hat would have seen as loyalty and sent me to Hufflepuff."

"My head hurts," Neville said.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I believe the hat was right. You belong in Gryffindor."

The trolley lady chose that moment to show up, and Marigold jumped up and purchased a few treats for the two of them. She sat down next to Neville and the two of them shared the candy and looked out the window as the trees went by.

They had been looking out the window for a long time when Marigold saw something completely impossible. Dipping out of the clouds- and it only lasted a second- Marigold saw Mr. Weasley's blue car. The sugar quill that Marigold had been chewing on was suddenly no longer in her mouth.

"Neville, tell me you just saw what I saw."

"If you just saw a flying blue car, then yes, I saw what you saw. But... why did we see a flying blue car?"

"I think we just found Harry and Ron!"

Marigold explained that that was the car she and the twins had used to rescue Harry.

"They have broken so many laws! What if they are seen? They could get expelled for this!" Marigold said, suddenly angry.

"Didn't you steal that car and do the same thing a month ago? Ya know, like you just said you did? Besides, I'm sure Harry won't get expelled, he's Harry Potter," Neville said, trying to reassure her.

"Yeah, but what about Ron? He doesn't get the benefit of being the Boy Who Lived!"

"That's true…"

"Mrs. Weasley will kill him," Marigold said, anxiously running a hand through her hair. "She is actually going to kill him! If she doesn't pull him out of school immediately, she'll wait for Christmas, and when we return to Hogwarts, he won't be joining us because she will have killed him. Honestly, I don't know how she didn't kill us when we stole it. This is going to be the last straw!"

"I'm sure she won't-" Marigold just looked at him. "-Yeah, he's a goner."

Marigold paused, anger subsiding momentarily. "Something's wrong about this… I don't know what, but neither of them would risk doing something so stupid without good reason."

Marigold was still steaming as they got off the train. They waved to Hagrid, who was carting off the first years toward the boats. Marigold and Neville made their way in the opposite direction, following everyone else. It took quite a while, as they were near the last of the line, but as they got further and further ahead, Marigold could just make out several horseless carriages that the upper years were climbing aboard.

Neville was looking rather uncomfortable and worried by the time they reached the carriage and clamored in. Hermione, Dean, and Seamus were in the carriage with them, so Marigold didn't ask Neville what was up. She assumed it was Harry related anyways.

Marigold caught up with Hermione while Neville talked with the boys. Hermione was even more fascinated with Lockhart than Marigold was, which was saying something. She had read all the schoolbooks, and had purchased his biographies and read them as well. The two of them talked excitedly about their hopes for his class. They both agreed that he would be better than Quirrell. Though, to be honest, that wasn't much of a feat. After all, Quirrell had had Voldemort on his head.

When they finally caught sight of the castle, the five of them stopped talking almost immediately and just stared.

Marigold could feel the magic radiating from the castle and flowing through her, welcoming her home.

"It's good to be back," Marigold whispered. Everyone just nodded.

They pulled up to the castle and followed the small trail toward the entryway. When they arrived, they made their way to the Great Hall, where everyone was sitting down at their house tables. The five of them made their way, making sure to leave room at the end of the table for the first years.

The Great Hall was deafening with all the students still excitedly talking about their summer and their hopes for the new year. Dumbledore was sitting at the head table, looking over all the students. He made eye contact with Marigold and smiled. Marigold smiled back, and then frowned when she noticed that someone was missing from the head table.

Professor Snape, the bane of Marigold's existence, was missing. She wondered where he could possibly be. She got a sinking feeling that it might have something to do with Harry and Ron.

Everyone got louder all of the sudden, and Marigold turned to see the first years filing in. They all looked terrified. She wondered if she had looked that scared last year. She supposed she had. Marigold found Ginny in the crowd. She looked scared too, but not nearly as terrified as some of the kids beside her.

Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on the stool, but Marigold wasn't paying attention because at that moment, she caught sight of Harry and Ron at the entryway behind the first years. Even worse, she saw Snape with them. Harry and Ron had their backs turned to Marigold, addressing Snape, but she would recognize them anywhere. Snape did not look pleased to see them.

Marigold turned to Neville, who was watching the hat in awe, and tugged on him to turn around, but by the time she had gotten his attention, Harry, Ron, and Snape, were gone.

Marigold reluctantly turned back to the sorting ceremony. The smallest first year of the group, Colin Creevey as McGonagall announced, made his way over to the hat and sat down. When Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head, it fell nearly to his shoulders. It didn't take too long before the hat shouted Gryffindor! and Colin Creevey became the first of the first years to run over to their table. He sat right next to Marigold, and shook hands with everyone his tiny arms could reach.

Finally, after almost all the other students had been sorted, Ginny was finally called up. Marigold remembered how, last year, the hat had instantly said Gryffindor for Ron. So it was surprising when the hat took a few minutes with Ginny. During that time, Marigold caught sight of the twins down the table, who both seemed like they were trying to cover up their concern.

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted, and a wave of relief swept over the Weasleys and Marigold.

When the last of the first years had been sorted, and Professor McGonagall disappeared through the door behind the head table, and she had returned and sat down, Dumbledore stood up, and the room fell silent.

"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts. I have a fe-"

"Who's that?" Colin whispered, poking Marigold in the ribs.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," she replied, annoyed that she had missed what Dumbledore had to say.

Her annoyance didn't last long, seeing as when she turned back to the table, it had been filled with all sorts of wonderful food. She grabbed some scalloped potatoes and a rather large cut of ham and dug in.

She didn't bat an eye when the ghosts showed up, but Colin yelped. He was fascinated by everything. He confessed to her that he was Muggleborn, and the two of them talked about their childhood. Well, Marigold didn't say much about hers, but not that she needed to; Colin talked enough for the two of them. His father was a milkman, and he had a little brother named Dennis who was two years younger than him.

Colin slowed down a little when desert showed up, but that didn't last long. Marigold caught Neville trying to stifle his laughter when Colin asked her if the two of them could be friends.

Unlike seemingly everyone within earshot, Marigold wasn't too bothered by Colin. So she agreed. He was about to start off again when, thankfully, Dumbledore got up to talk.

"Now that we have had our fill, I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils as it is very deadly. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, wants me to remind you, yet again, that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch." Dumbledore waved toward Madam Hooch, who nodded in the direction of all four houses.

"Now, for the school song!"

Just like last year, Dumbledore flicked his wand and golden ribbon danced out, forming the words in mid air. The teachers still didn't seem interested, but Marigold sang her heart out. She remembered the sleepover she and the boys had had, and, judging by the stupid grin on Neville's face, he did too.

Once everyone had finished, Dumbledore dismissed the hall.

"I'll be down in the common room tomorrow morning really early," Marigold said to Colin. "If you come down, I can help you get back here to the Great Hall."

"Thanks, Marigold!" Colin said, taking off to follow the other first years.

"Should we head out, then?" Neville asked when Marigold turned back to him.

"Yeah. Hey, I could have sworn I saw Harry and Ron earlier... bad news is, I think I saw Snape, too."

"Well, nothing good can come from that."

Neville was absolutely right; but, on the plus side, it was good to be back.

They passed a prefect in the hall and got the start of the year password, wattlebird. When they finally ducked past the Fat Lady and into the common room, Marigold was delighted to see Harry and Ron.

Hermione was chewing out Ron, who was slouching so far down in his chair Marigold was sure they would need a spell to remove him, while Dean and Seamus were laughing. Harry, on the other hand, was suddenly and completely without warning hugging Marigold and Neville.

"Please tell me I was imagining things when I saw Mr. Weasley's car from the train," Marigold hissed.

Harry didn't answer until the common room started emptying. The three of them sat in their usual seats by the fireplace.

"We couldn't get through the barrier!" Harry said once the room was clear enough to his liking. "What else were we supposed to do?"

"Anything but break all law!"

"Well, if it's any consolation, we both got a ton of detention," Harry sighed.

"You're lucky you weren't expelled," Neville said.

"Do you at least want to know what happened?" Harry asked, a little annoyed.

"Yes…" Marigold mumbled.

"Well, first of all, it was Ron's idea, and it wasn't nearly as fun as he's making it seem. It was really boring, actually, nothing like when you came to get me over the summer. It was long and hot, too. And to make matters worse, we crash-landed into a tree. A very angry tree. The car got pretty banged up, Ron broke his wand trying to get us out.

"When we finally got loose from the tree, we thought we were in the clear. But just as we got to the Great Hall, Snape found us and marched us straight to his office in the dungeons... We thought we were going to be expelled, but Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came to our rescue and we got really, really lucky."

"That's putting it lightly." Neville said.

The common room was finally empty, but Marigold was sure that the adventure of Harry and Ron was going to glean a lot of attention from the whole school. Add that to the fact that Harry was super famous, and she was sure that there were going to be stares and pointing yet again.

They didn't talk for too much longer. Harry's gifts for the two of them were up in his trunk, so they all said goodnight. Marigold made her way up to her dormitory and crawled into her bed.

It was much more comfortable than last year. Quieter, too, since all the girls had already gone to bed in anticipation for the next day. Marigold wondered if she was going to have to make good on her threat to Fae. She doubted it, but there was always the possibility that Fae hadn't believed her.

Cheesy Smiles and Blushing Faces

Marigold woke up early, as she always did at Hogwarts, and got ready for the day. She had a little trouble with her tie, not having tied one in months, but eventually she was washed, dressed, and heading down to the common room. She sat in her usual seat by the fire, wondering what her class schedule was going to be this year.

She held her old planner in her hands. It had somehow emptied itself when she had gone home over the summer. So now it looked brand new and ready to be used for her next year at Hogwarts.

Marigold had wondered where Professor McGonagall had purchased it, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if Professor McGonagall had made it. It would explain some things like how it was so intuitive, how it would scream if an assignment wasn't handed in, how it magically erased itself…

She remembered thinking, when she first got it, that it had looked old, like it had been used for years. But how could a planner be old, used for years, and be completely blank?

The fire was crackling low, and with a silent flick of her wand, she lifted one of the logs next to it and placed it on top of the blaze. It felt good to be using magic again.

"That was really cool!"

Colin's sudden presence made her jump.

"Good morning, Col-"

"'Morning! You didn't even say anything, is that normal?"

"I mean it's not, not normal. How did you sleep?" She asked, noticing the beginnings of bags under his eyes. Those would only get worse over the next month or so.

Marigold noticed that he had a very large and clunky Muggle camera hanging around his neck, which Marigold found a little odd.

"Couldn't! I was getting to know all of my dorm-mates. They told me about this kid named Harry Potter. They were all so excited that he was going to school with us, and of course I didn't know who he was. But when they told me, I thought it was amazing! They said he was in your year, and in Gryffindor! Do you think you could introduce me?" His words were flying out of his mouth so fast she thought he was going to pass out before he took a breath.

"Introduce me? I can do that for myself you know," Harry said.

He and Neville were standing there grinning, though Harry's grin seemed a little fake. Marigold could see that a couple of the older students were starting to straggle through the common room on their way to breakfast.

"Hi! I'm Colin Creevey!" Colin said, jumping up to shake Harry's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Colin."

"I say we make our way to breakfast," Marigold said, getting up. "That way I can help Colin get to his first class. If that's okay with you of course?"

"Sounds great!"

The four of them made their way to the Great Hall, stopping to point out a few landmarks for Colin to use so that he wouldn't get lost like they had. Colin was constantly bombarding everyone with questions.

When they finally ambled into the Great Hall, Marigold insisted that Colin eat more than just toast, since was going to be a long time before lunch. After a while, Marigold caught sight of Ginny sitting alone a little ways down the table.

"Hey Colin, let me introduce you to the only Weasley to ever have a hat stall."

The two of them walked over to Ginny, who had a piece of toast in one hand and a quill in the other, her nose firmly in her diary.

"Hey, Ginny, this is Colin."

The two of them exchanged pleasantries, and when Colin sat down across from Ginny, Marigold quickly escaped.

"I think you might have a fan club," Marigold said, sitting down next to Harry.

Before he could answer, Ron and Hermione marched over and sat down. They looked like they had just been bickering. Hermione's face was scrunched up and Ron looked annoyed at something. Dean and Seamus joined them a moment later.

Marigold's attention was drawn away from them and toward the enchanted ceiling, which had suddenly filled with owls of all sizes and colors. Marigold recognized the fluffy, unkempt, grey plumage of the Weasley family owl, Errol.

"Ouch!" Neville cried beside her.

A large package dropped on his head from his grandmother's owl; but Marigold was hardly paying attention to Neville and his package of forgotten knickknacks. A large commotion was coming from Ron's side of the table.

"You have to open it, Ron!" Dean was insisting.

Ron's face was white. In his hands he was holding an ordinary looking red envelope. Marigold wondered what the big deal was.

"It'll be worse if you wait," Seamus added.

Marigold didn't have to wonder for long, because the moment Ron broke the seal, the screeching voice of Mrs. Weasley filled the Great Hall. The table shook and the ceiling crumbled, sending dust down onto Marigold's toast.

"—STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU. I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE—"

Everyone in the hall had turned to watch as Ron was relentlessly scolded by his mother. Harry turned as white as Ron. Though nobody's attention was on him, including the screaming voice of Mrs. Weasley, he appeared just as guilty and embarrassed as Ron.

"LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED—"

Harry suddenly was very invested in buttering his toast, but his face had gone from white to scarlet.

"—ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED—YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Ron looked like he was going to be sick. Harry was looking everywhere but at Ron and the ash covered table. A couple people laughed, especially Malfoy, who didn't stop sniggering for several minutes. But eventually, conversation returned to normal.

Marigold turned back to her breakfast and found that she had a small white envelope lying haphazardly on her jam covered toast. She turned it over and found her name written in Dumbledore's unique, identifiable scrawl.

Miss Rosenberg,

If you could come to my office this Saturday afternoon at two o'clock, I would greatly appreciate it. I have some things I would like to discuss with you.

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I assume you remember how to get to my office. The password is Mice Pops.

Marigold glanced up at the head table and the empty chair where Headmaster Dumbledore had just been seated last night. She wondered what he wanted to talk about. She hoped he didn't blame her for the stupid decision Harry and Ron made… but, then again, she did kind of blame herself for that. If only she had waited one more second.

"Your class schedule, Miss. Rosenberg," Professor McGonagall said, showing up out of nowhere, handing Marigold a sheet of parchment.

"Thank you, Professor."

Marigold turned over the schedule, while Harry and Neville received theirs from McGonagall as well, noting that it was just as hectic and unorthodox as last year. She was glad that she didn't have more classes. There weren't nearly as many free periods as last year, which was a little sad.

After copying down her classes into her planner, and slipping the note from Dumbledore into the back, Marigold chugged her pumpkin juice and stood up.

"Hey Neville, I'm gonna go help Colin, and maybe Ginny, get to their first class. I'll meet you at the Herbology greenhouse."

"Sounds good! Don't be late though, we might be in a different greenhouse this year," Neville reminded her, not bothering to look up from his schedule.

"See ya, Harry," Marigold said.

"Later, then."

Marigold walked over to where she had left Colin. He and Ginny were poring over their schedules, the both of them seemed confused and overwhelmed.

"Hey, you two. Done with breakfast?"

"Yeah! Ginny and I have double Potions first thing this morning,"

Marigold felt her heart sink. Potions, on the first day of school? The poor first years wouldn't know what hit them. Marigold hoped, for their sake, that Snape wouldn't be as bad without Harry in the class. Fred and George told her that Snape wasn't unapologetically evil with their class, just simply awful.

"Alright, what class do you have after that?" Marigold asked and they exited the Great Hall. "It's best to get all the books you're going to need until lunch, then get the rest during lunch. The fifteen-minute breaks look like they are enough to go get your books, but believe me, there is no time to go to and from Gryffindor Tower in fifteen minutes. You're going to want to write home for a bag, Colin, I already told Ginny she would need one."

After grabbing all the books they would need, Marigold with Herbology and Transfiguration, and Ginny and Colin with Potions and History of Magic, they took off toward the dungeons.

Marigold pointed out all the landmarks the two would need to get from the dungeons to the History of Magic classroom so they wouldn't get lost without her there to help them.

Once they were close to the dungeons, the three of them passed Malfoy and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle. Marigold didn't pay them any mind, but Malfoy stopped to whisper something to Goyle. Luckily for Marigold, Crabbe knocked into Goyle. With books everywhere, Marigold and the others were able to avoid a scuffle in the hallway.

When they were well enough away from the whole thing, Ginny piped up.

"That was Draco Malfoy, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, he was."

"Who's that?" Colin asked.

"A very obnoxious second year. He and the other two are in Slytherin. Stay away from him if you can, Colin."

"Okay." He looked a little confused, but Marigold was glad he didn't question her. She really didn't want to go into the whole social class situation with Draco Malfoy.

"Well, here you are," Marigold said, pointing to their open classroom door. "I suggest you wait for a few more students before heading in. I have to go, I'm already running a bit-"

"Good morning, Miss Rosenberg."

Marigold felt a shiver run down her back. Standing at the entrance to the classroom, suddenly and out of nowhere, was Severus Snape. His long hair was greasier than she remembered, his skin more sickly.

"Good morning, Professor Snape. I was just lea-"

"I see, Potter and Longbottom look quite different this year, and I could have sworn I was teaching the new first years this hour."

"Hello, Professor, I'm Colin Creevey." Colin held out his hand and Marigold stiffened.

"I see," Snape said, refusing to take Colin's hand. "Well, Miss Rosenberg, you should be getting along to class. You wouldn't want to lose Gryffindor points by being late on your first day."

"Right, I'll see you two at lunch. Professor," Marigold nodded to him, then disappeared.

Having to talk with Snape took up precious time, and Marigold really was running late. When she reached the courtyard, she was at a dead run and still a minute away from the greenhouses.

When the greenhouses came into view, so did two people standing in front of them. As she got closer, she recognized both of them. Harry, looking rather uncomfortable, was talking to a smiley Professor Lockhart. Lockhart's robes were a brilliant turquoise, and his hair looked like spun gold under the sun.

Marigold became all too aware that she was a panting, sweaty mess. Lockhart glanced up from his conversation with Harry and directly at her. Marigold instinctively looked at her feet. Feeling embarrassed at her gross appearance, Marigold didn't dare make eye contact, but then Lockhart did something amazing. He actually started to talk to her.

"Good morning! Who might you be?" Lockhart asked, cheerily.

"Marigold Rosenberg, second year, Gryffindor." Marigold found herself babbling and quickly shut up.

When she looked up, Harry had a bewildered expression on his face, but Lockhart was beaming.

"Come on Marigold, we're already late," Harry said, grabbing her arm and shuffling her away from Lockhart and into greenhouse three.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Rosenberg!"

And with that, Marigold and Harry entered the greenhouse. Harry's face was scrunched up in annoyance, Marigold still panting and very, very red in the face.

Professor Sprout, who had apparently been waiting for them, stood behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. Marigold and Harry slipped in next to Neville and stood behind several pairs of multicolored earmuffs.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today and continuing to work with them all year. Now, who can tell me the Properties of the Mandrake?"

Marigold, Neville, and Hermione's hands shot in the air.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Sprout called.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," Hermione answered, sounding like she was reading the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor." Professor Sprout beamed. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, very dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Neville's hand shot into the air, barely beating Hermione's.

"The Mandrake is very loud," he said, "and whoever hears it, well, they die."

"Precisely. Take another ten points," Professor Sprout said, smiling at Neville. "Now, these Mandrakes are still very young so they won't kill you, but they will still cause you to pass out for a few hours."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone huddled closer to get a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish-green in color, were growing there in rows. Marigold didn't really know what to make of them. She had read about them in the book, of course, but she was a little distracted from her run in with Lockhart.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," Professor Sprout said.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to grab a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy. Marigold got a yellow and black one, Harry got a green and gray one, and poor Neville got stuck with the pink and fluffy one.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs up. Right- earmuffs on."

Marigold put the earmuffs over her ears and was amazed to find they cut out all sound completely. She wondered what spell had been placed on them.

Professor Sprout put on a pair of fluffy pink earmuffs that looked better on her than they did on Neville. She rolled up the sleeves on her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Marigold had seen diagrams of mandrakes in her Herbology book, but the thing that was swaying from Professor Sprout's hand was much worse.

Squirming and struggling, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby had popped out of the earth in place of plant roots. The leaves were growing out of its head, and it was pale green. It was clearly screaming at the top of its lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs up, and removed her earmuffs.

"It's as simple as that," Professor Sprout was saying, though Marigold thought nothing looked simple about pulling an ugly, bawling mushy looking baby out of dirt. "Four to a tray, now. There is a large supply of pots here and compost is over there in the sacks. Oh, and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Marigold, Harry, and Neville were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Marigold had never spoken to but had bumped into a couple times last year.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry's hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter… And you're Marigold Rosenberg, you fought a troll last year?"

"Twice," Harry corrected, beaming at her. Marigold began to pay a lot of attention to her earmuffs, her stomach dropping to her feet.

"And you must be Neville Longbottom, you won Gryffindor the house cup last year!" Justin continued, not noticing Marigold's discomfort.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" Justin said happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if a werewolf had cornered me in a telephone booth, but he stayed cool and—zap—just fantastic!"

Marigold went back to her work, a gross feeling in her stomach at the thought of last year. She continued to absentmindedly mess around with her earmuffs, until Justin spoke up again.

"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family."

Marigold was about to respond about Lockhart, but to Harry and Neville's visible relief, Professor Sprout told everyone to put the earmuffs back on and attend to the Mandrakes.

Just like Marigold suspected, Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy. The Mandrakes didn't want to come out of the dirt, and once they were out, they didn't want to go back in. They kicked and screamed and tried to bite anything that got close to their grubby faces. Marigold wondered if there was a spell or jinx that would make things easier, but she supposed that wouldn't be the way to do it. After all, jinxing something that has restorative properties might mess up potential potions or antidotes.

By the end of class, Marigold was even more out of breath and sweatier than she had been when she had ran all the way from the dungeons. She wasn't the only one, either; everyone was sore and covered in dirt and sweat. Some students, including Neville, were bleeding from being bit by the Mandrakes, though it was nothing serious enough to go to the Hospital wing.

Marigold wanted desperately to go wash, but fifteen minutes was hardly enough time to get to Gryffindor Tower, let alone to freshen up.

They had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs as well, so both groups of second years turned up to McGonagall's classroom achy and covered in dirt, a sight which seemed to annoy the esteemed witch, who pursed her lips as a last ditch effort at holding back some words.

"Now, this year we will be expanding upon what you learned last year. I am sure all of you studied over the summer, so we will be picking up where we left off." Professor McGonagall turned to write the Transfiguration Formula up on the chalkboard. "Today we will be turning a beetle into a button."

When Professor McGonagall released them, Marigold could feel the air shift in the classroom. It seemed that a fair few of the students from both houses had not studied over the summer. Marigold wasn't the only one having a difficult time, but Harry and Neville seemed to be having an impossible time. Their beetles didn't seem to want to stay still, rather running all over their desks.

Their troubles were nothing compared to Ron's, though. Ron had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle, it engulfed him in gray smoke that smelled like rotten eggs.

By the end of class, Marigold had managed to turn a beetle into a beautiful brown button. But her elation at the magic deflated when Hermione showed her a handful of buttons.

Marigold and the boys made a beeline for Gryffindor Tower when the lunch bell rang. After a short shower and a change of robes, they made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Marigold was excited for the upcoming double Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Neville and Harry didn't seem to share her enthusiasm, but Marigold wouldn't let that get her down. She was finally going to see Professor Lockhart in his environment. She wondered what he would teach them. Would it be something practical or maybe a fascinating new spell?

After eating, the three of them made their way outside to enjoy the rest of their lunch in the sunlight. They had relaxed for only a few moments when Colin came bounding toward them from the castle, his Muggle camera swinging around his neck.

"All right, Harry, Marigold?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Afternoon, Colin," Marigold replied lazily.

"Harry, do you think it would be okay if I got a picture?"

"A picture?" Harry asked blankly.

"I didn't get the chance to ask this morning before breakfast, but I was talking to a student here and he said that if you develop a picture just right, it can move! You should be in it too, Marigold, and you Neville! Then maybe after it's developed you could sign it, Harry!"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

Marigold, who had been lazily enjoying the sun moments before, was on her feet in a flash.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared at the crowd of students that were starting to gather. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," Harry said angrily, his fists clenching.

"You're just jealous," Colin piped up. Marigold could have smacked herself in the face. She had told him not to mess with Malfoy just this morning.

"Jealous?" Malfoy scoffed. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself. And having your parents get murdered certainly makes you more pitiable than special."

"Watch it, Malfoy," Marigold warned.

Crabbe stopped laughing and stiffened up. Goyle started rubbing his knuckles prepping for a fight. Marigold's hand was inching for her wand.

"You'd better be careful, Rosenberg," Malfoy said. "If Mrs. Weasley is willing to drag her rule-breaking son home for snapping a few branches of a tree, what do you think she will do to the brat who's eating all the food she can barely provide for her own kids if she gets caught fighting?"

A bunch of nearby Slytherin fifth years laughed while the rest of the crowd sucked in a breath.

Marigold had her hand on her wand when Neville stopped her.

"Don't," he whispered.

"What's all this, what's all this?" Professor Lockhart was striding toward him, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Marigold let go of her wand and sighed, slightly disappointed she hadn't been able to use it.

Harry started to speak, but Lockhart cut him short as he flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

Harry's face was bright red as he and Professor Lockhart posed for a picture. Marigold was slightly jealous at Harry's fortune. He of course wouldn't appreciate the opportunity. True, Malfoy was smirking and Harry didn't want a photo to begin with, but to take a picture with Gilderoy Lockhart… she could only imagine.

After taking the photo, Professor Lockhart dispersed the crowd and he and Harry took off toward the castle and headed to class. Marigold and Neville followed along behind, Marigold wishing desperately that she could be up there with them.

When they reached the classroom, Lockhart let go of Harry and took off toward the front of the classroom, leaving Marigold and the others to find their seats.

"You okay Harry?" Neville asked.

"Fine," Harry said, rather miffed.

The other Gryffindor second years piled into the classroom along with the Slytherin second years, including Draco Malfoy, who still had a smug look on his face. When the whole class had been seated, Professor Lockhart cleared his throat loudly, and silence fell. He picked up Hermione's copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up to show his own winking portrait on the back.

"Me," he said, pointing to it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award. But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He paused and Marigold realized he was waiting for a laugh. She smiled faintly, feeling slightly uncomfortable with his impressive titles that he had just bragged about.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books, well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in."

When he had handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes, start… Now!"

Marigold looked down from his smiling face to the parchment in front of her.

1.What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

2.What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3.What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?

As Marigold answered the questions, with no difficulty or pause at all, she thought more about her admiration of Gilderoy Lockhart. His vain questionnaire was rubbing her the wrong way, and although her heart fluttered when she looked at his truly award-winning smile, wonderful attire, and perfect hair, she felt a little ill taking this test. She had no doubt that he was a good man, but the pretty Professor seemed to be more egocentric than Draco Malfoy… and that was a problem.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut, hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. A few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully, I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples… though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewiskey!"

He gave the class another roguish wink and Marigold had a feeling of annoyance along with her heart fluttering.

"Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions, and Miss Marigold Rosenberg chose a very unusual achievement of mine to praise… in fact," he flipped through their papers, "full marks for each of them! Where are Miss Hermione and Miss Marigold?"

Hermione raised her hand tentatively, blushing very red, while Marigold raised her own trembling hand.

"Excellent, ten points to Gryffindor! And so, to business."

Professor Lockhart bent behind his desk and pulled out a large square box covered in a blue satin scarf. He knocked on the side and it clanged like it was metal. It instantly rattled back.

"Now, be warned!" Professor Lockhart said, turning back to the class and flashing a smile. "It's my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm will befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Marigold forgot her discomfort and she felt her body start to vibrate with excitement. They were going to do something practical! Neville was slipping lower into his seat, and Dean and Seamus, who had been laughing earlier, had fallen silent. Even Harry, who had been hiding behind his books, was peaking out for a better look at the cage.

"I must ask you not to scream," Professor Lockhart said in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Professor Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Marigold felt the excitement leave her. She had read about pixies. Other than bothersome and potentially disruptive in large groups, they weren't particularly dangerous or interesting. They were basically just another pest one can find in their home, like a gnome.

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Professor Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not very… dangerous, are they?" Seamus said, trying not to smile.

"Don't be so sure!" Professor Lockhart said, waggling a finger at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be."

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches tall, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budges arguing. There were maybe twenty crammed into the large cage. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Marigold watched in horror as two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through one of the windows at the back of the classroom. Glass shattered down on the back row students, and they all covered their heads with their hands, and books.

Students started screaming and running for the door, swatting at pixies as they went. In just a few moments, half the class was out the door, the other half were cowering under their desks, and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come on now, round them up, they are only pixies!" Professor Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

It had absolutely no effect. One of the pixies actually snatched his wand and threw it out of the broken window. With a whimper that Marigold hoped she had imagined, Professor Lockhart dove into his office and slammed the door.

Marigold, who had been expecting the teacher to react, suddenly sprang into action. She concentrated, aiming her wand at Neville, who was whimpering, dangling from the chandelier. When he was safe on the ground again, Marigold turned her attention to the pixies. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor had taken care of a few of the pixies with a freezing charm shot from under tables.

Impedimenta! With a horizontal flick of her wand, Marigold sent out a blinding turquoise light, which caused the remaining pixies to seize and fall to the floor.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush to the door. Harry, who had been making sure Neville was okay, stood up and gawked at the state of the classroom.

"Can you believe him?" he said angrily.

"He just disappeared!" Neville said, making a face at Professor Lockhart's door.

A muffled sniffling sound came from the back of the room. Marigold rushed back and found a Slytherin girl she didn't know by name hiding under a desk, a small piece of glass stuck in her hand.

"Oh crap, you should go see Madam Pomfrey," Marigold said, offering to help her out from under the desk. "No, don't take it out!"

The girl gave her an icy stare and got out from under the desk. She grabbed her bookbag and lugged it over her shoulder, hitting Marigold, and left the classroom.

"He had no idea what he was doing," Marigold growled, glaring at the door Lockhart had disappeared behind, her admiration and silly crush gone.

Mud, Blood, and Gold

Marigold was having a much easier time than the boys adjusting to being back at Hogwarts. Thursday and Friday were roughly the same as Wednesday had been; she woke up early, went to breakfast, showed Ginny and Colin to their classrooms when she had the time, then went to her own classes, which passed by rather uneventfully compared to Professor Lockhart's class.

As rough a time as everyone seemed to be having adjusting, nobody had it worse than Ron. His wand had snapped when he had crashed Mr. Weasleys car into the Whomping Willow.

He seemed to be having a decent enough time when the wand was put away, like when they worked on the theory of magic, but once either McGonagall or Flitwick called for wands out, there was no saying what could happen. Marigold and the other Gryffindors lived in fear of whether or not they would be engulfed in bad smelling clouds of smoke, or even worse, subject to friendly fire. Everyone was beginning to get more jumpy around Ron than they were around Seamus Finnigan, and he still made things blow up occasionally.

Marigold and the boys had been so busy getting used to school, that they completely forgot that Harry and Marigold still hadn't exchanged their birthday gifts. So, Friday night after a particularly uneventful day, the three of them decided to hang out in the common room until Astronomy at midnight. Neville even brought down Dora, who Marigold had been anxious to see over the last few days.

Marigold went first, handing Harry his gift. He excitedly ripped it open to find the Snitch Snatcher! game inside.

"It's so the pair of us who are flight challenged can enjoy something you enjoy with you," Marigold said.

"It's amazing!" Harry said, beaming.

"You aren't going to make us play it at the crack of dawn though, right?" Neville asked warily.

"Who do I look like, Oliver Wood?" Harry replied, causing the three of them to crack up.

When they finally stopped laughing at the expense of Harry's crazy captain, Harry grabbed two wrapped gifts from the floor.

"I wanted to make up for the crappy Christmas presents I got you both last year," he said, looking at the two presents. "So think of these like two gifts."

He handed Neville a box wrapped in Muggle wrapping paper that had multicolored balloons on it.

"I picked this up at one of the stores in the little Muggle village Marigold is always going down to. I figured you would find it really cool," Harry explained.

Neville ripped open the wrapping paper to find a small handheld device inside.

"What is it?" Neville asked.

"It's a Game Boy," Harry explained, pointing at all the features. "They are really popular with Muggle kids. You play games with it. There's already one on there, too! You just push all the buttons and things happen on the screen. It won't work here at school, with all the magic and stuff interfering, but I think it will work when you get home."

Neville still looked confused, but thanked Harry.

"Okay, your turn, Marigold," Harry said, handing her a small box wrapped in bronze paper with glittery ribbons tied around it. "I hope you like it."

Underneath all the ribbons and wrapping paper was a small white box, and inside that box was an even smaller box made out of white velvet. She pried open that box and laying atop fluffy white tissue paper, was a rose gold dragon. Not a real dragon of course, but a metal one. It was holding on to the tip of its tail that way it's body formed a large O shape. It looked like it was sleeping.

"You and Charlie are always talking about dragons, so I figured I'd get you one," Harry said anxiously.

Marigold was speechless. It was beautiful, and looked very expensive. She gently touched it with her fingers and, magically, it let go of its tail, opening its eyes to show two tiny rainbow opals.

"It's a hair tie," Harry explained. "It will go back to sleep and hold your hair in place. I suppose you could also wear it as a bracelet too though!"

"I can't accept this, Harry!" she said, tearing her eyes off the baby dragon. "It's too much!"

"Don't worry about it!" Harry said, his ears turning a little pink. "Besides, the shop owner said I can't return it."

Marigold looked back at the tiny dragon, who stared unblinkingly back at her. She gently picked it up and put it in her hair. She could feel it wrap itself around the hair tie that was already in place.

"It's amazing Harry! Thank you so much."

Marigold was excited when she woke up the next morning. She put her hair up using her new clip. The tiny dragon was cold on her scalp after sitting in his box all night. She knew it wasn't a real dragon, but she had decided to name it anyway. She had spent about twenty minutes before she came up with Opie the opal eyed dragon.

While she was sitting downstairs in front of the fire, admiring how warm it was, Neville came down holding a small piece of parchment.

"Harry's at Quidditch practice," Neville said with a yawn.

"Already? Well, let's get some breakfast and meet him there."

"But it's so cold this morning," Neville protested. "Surely Harry won't mind if we just have breakfast then come back here and do homework."

"Oh come on, Neville, it'll be fun."

They met Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall, and the two of them decided to tag along and watch the practice. Neville found this odd, seeing as it was freezing outside and they didn't have Marigold forcing them to go.

The four of them made their way to the Quidditch pitch, warm toast and muffins in hand. When they got there they saw everyone walking out onto the pitch.

"You already done?" Marigold asked curiously.

"Haven't even started yet," Harry grumbled, looking at Marigold's toast with envy. "Wood's been teaching us some new moves, and I've been up since dawn."

Harry kicked off and flew around the stadium. Marigold and the others climbed up the stands and found that Colin was already there, snapping away with his camera.

"Good morning, Colin," Marigold said, handing him a piece of toast.

"Good morning, Marigold, isn't this amazing?"

Marigold only nodded as the Gryffindor team, lead by the handsome Oliver Wood, practiced some new moves. Harry was magnificent, diving toward the ground before shooting up into the air. Fred and George looked more like they were goofing off than practicing.

"How are you enjoying classes, Hermione?" Marigold asked, taking her eyes off the sky for a moment.

"I'm enjoying them fine, though I'm worried Ron might not do very well this year." The two of them glanced over at Ron and Neville who were correcting Colin about Quidditch. "I think his wand is beyond repair."

"I'm sure you're right."

"Can you believe how amazing Professor Lockhart is?" Hermione whispered dreamily.

"To be honest, after that first class with him, I find he isn't what I thought he would be. He certainly is not a good teacher," Marigold confessed.

"Really?" Hermione seemed disappointed. "I think he's brilliant…"

Hermione trailed off as the Gryffindor team suddenly stopped practicing and flew toward the ground. Confused, Marigold looked around. Approaching the field were several students in green robes.

"This can't be good," Ron said, looking warily at the Slytherin team.

"Should we go check it out?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"Probably," Marigold sighed.

They approached the Slytherins just seconds after their own team had reached them. Oliver Wood was arguing with the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a tall, trollish looking guy.

"I booked the field for today," Wood was saying.

"Yes, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape," Flint said. "'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"You have a new seeker?" Oliver Wood asked, distracted. "Where?"

Flint smirked, and from behind the wall of Slytherins came a seventh smaller boy, a smirk gracing his pale, pointed face. Marigold felt a flash of anger as Draco Malfoy smirked at her as well.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked, looking at Malfoy with disgust.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," Flint said, as the grins on the Slytherin team grew more arrogant. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. There were seven well polished, brand-new handles, and seven sets of gold lettering that spelt the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleaming under the Gryffindors noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," Flint said, carelessly flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the Cleansweeps-" he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives, "-sweeps the board with them."

Marigold wasn't the only one flush with anger. Oliver Wood looked a little deflated at the sight of the new brooms, and the rest of the team were having a hard time balancing their frustration with their discouragement.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione said sharply, surprising everyone. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Marigold punched Malfoy square in the mouth, causing his head to roll back. Flint then jumped in front of Malfoy to keep Fred and George from doing the same. Oliver grabbed Marigold, holding her back. Her knuckles ached from colliding with Malfoys' stupid face.

"How dare you!" Alicia Spinnet, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, shrieked.

Marigold managed to shrug off Oliver and went to Hermione's side. Hermione was just standing there in shock. Neville was trying to comfort her, patting her back tentatively. Harry looked just as confused as Colin.

Ron was fishing around for his wand and pulled it out, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" He pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's bleeding face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of lime green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you alright?" Hermione squealed, rushing to his side.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several black and green slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist, laughing and dribbling blood from his lip. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said to Neville, who agreed.

The pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms, Marigold grabbed Hermione by the arm, and they all hobbled over toward Hagrid's hut. Colin was bouncing around the boys, trying his best to help.

Marigold ran up ahead and banged on Hagrid's door. Hagrid appeared at once, smiling at the two of them, but the moment he saw Ron, slugs all over the ground around him, he bustled out of the way. Hagrid's dog, Fang, however, did not move out of the way until Ron nearly puked slugs all over him.

Harry and Neville got Ron onto the couch and Hagrid came back with a bucket. Hagrid didn't seem at all perturbed by the problem and sat down, giving Colin a big grin. Colin smiled back nervously, not sure what to make of Hagrid, or the very large dog that was drooling in his lap.

"Better out than in, get 'em all up Ron!" Hagrid said, turning from Colin to Ron.

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," Hermione said anxiously, watching Ron bend over the bucket. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand…"

"I think yer right, Hermione. But wha' happened?" Hagrid asked.

"He was trying to curse Malfoy," Marigold said, looking away from Ron.

"He called me something, it must have been really bad, because everyone went wild," Hermione mumbled. "Marigold even punched him in the face."

Hagrid raised a bushy eyebrow at Marigold, who had been looking at her knuckles, which were sore but no longer red.

"He called her a Mudblood," she growled.

Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged. Harry and Hermione still looked confused. Colin wiped the dog slobber off his robes.

"He didn'!" Hagrid said, gaping at Hermione.

"He did," she answered.

"I don't understand," Harry piped up, Colin and Hermione nodding in agreement. "I could tell it was really rude, of course-"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron managed to say before disappearing into the bucket again.

"Mudblood's a really horrible name for someone who is Muggleborn," Neville continued for him, gently patting his shoulder. "You know, someone with non magic parents?"

"Some wizards, like Malfoy's family," Ron continued with a gulp, "think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." He gave a small burp and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued. "I mean the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville and myself. We come from long lines of witches and wizards, and yet Hermione and Marigold are the top of the class."

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," Marigold sighed. "And it just so happens to be one of Malfoy's favorite insults… I never thought he would use it in front of other people though."

"Has he-" Neville asked, visibly upset.

"Last year, I wrote and asked Charlie about it," she confessed.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," Hagrid said loudly over the thuds of more slugs in the bucket. "But maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Yeh on the other hand, Marigold, I doubt Draco'll even mention it to his dad that yeh decked him."

"That seems like a fair bet," Marigold said, chuckling.

With everything somewhat resolved, they decided to stay while Ron puked up his slugs, figuring parading him around the school wouldn't be a good idea.

They all stayed and talked for a long while, and Marigold was having a good time. The rose gold dragon caught Hagrid's eye and the two of them talked about dragons for a while.

Hermione seemed to be in better spirits, and even Ron seemed to be having fun. Colin didn't stay very long, mentioning something about doing homework with Ginny. Marigold suspected he just didn't like dog slobber.

Hagrid was an amazing host, like always. He made them tea and treacle fudge. They skipped lunch in the Great Hall in favor of staying with Hagrid, who excitedly showed them his pumpkin patch.

"Hagrid, they're huge!" Hermione exclaimed, looking very impressed.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen or so of the largest pumpkins Marigold had ever seen in her life. Each was the size of a large boulder.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" Hagrid said happily. "Fer the Halloween feast… should be big enough by then."

"By then? Hagrid, what've you been feeding them?" Harry asked.

Marigold and the others chuckled. Surely the pumpkins were being helped along with magic. Harry had told Marigold and Neville about Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella, which Harry was certain was more than it seemed. Hagrid, after all, had been expelled from Hogwarts and had his wand broken. Hagrid never talked about that though and at any mention, Hagrid would hurriedly change the subject.

A little while before two, Marigold excused herself from the rest of the group.

"I have something I have to do real quick," she said casually.

"Alright then, we'll see you in the dormitory after?" Neville asked.

"Mhmm, I'll see you all later! Thank you for the tea, Hagrid." Marigold waved and headed back toward the castle.

As she strolled across the grounds and through the corridors toward Dumbledore's office, Marigold wondered what he wanted to talk about. Maybe he wanted to talk about her grades from the previous year and how she thought her studies were going this year?

But a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was gnawing to get out. As she walked and fidgeted with her locket, she thought, for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, about the letter her father had written her. It had been quite a blow receiving that letter the morning of her birthday, and finding out about her parents getting back together; about baby Florian, who must be around five months old now… and the odd way her father had said he had been told to write her.

While her footsteps echoed around the empty corridor, she suddenly wondered if it had been Dumbledore who had told her father to write her, though she couldn't piece together why he would bother to do so. Or how he would even know about the situation in the first place.

Filled with nerves, she approached the gargoyle statue. "Mice pops," she said, after a long pause.

The gargoyle started rotating, revealing a spiral staircase, which Marigold stepped onto, climbing up toward the wooden door. After another pause, Marigold knocked on the door.

The door swung open to reveal a large, beautiful room. Some of the portraits on the walls nodded at her as she walked in. Fawkes the phoenix was perched to the right of Dumbledore's desk, grooming and plucking at his crimson and gold feathers. The headmaster himself was seated comfortably at his desk, completely absorbed in a book.

Not wanting to interrupt, Marigold quietly sat down in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster's desk.

"You are early, my dear," Dumbledore said, finishing a paragraph from his book before looking up.

"I was at Hagrid's and thought it would take longer to get here," she replied, fidgeting.

"No problem at all." Dumbledore smiled and closed the book. "How are you enjoying being back?"

"I've missed it here very much, sir, and I've missed using magic even more."

"I can imagine you have." Dumbledore stood up. Marigold moved to follow, but Dumbledore just smiled. "Oh don't get up on my account, I was just wondering if you would like some tea?"

"Oh, yes please," Marigold said, relaxing back into her seat. She was actually quite full of tea from Hagrid's, but didn't want to be rude.

"Did you enjoy your summer?" Dumbledore asked. His back was turned to Marigold and she could hear him pouring the tea.

"I did! Harry came to stay with us a little while after our birthday."

"So I heard." Headmaster Dumbledore had a knowing smile on his face as he handed her the tea.

"Thank you," she said. The tea smelled like old books, but tasted like cinnamon, a surprisingly wonderful combination.

"Did you have a good birthday? Receive any fun presents?"

Marigold looked up at Dumbledore; somehow she knew her suspicions had been right. He had been the one to tell her father to write her. She didn't know how she was able to tell, but there was something there, in his eyes, that gave it away.

"I got a ring from the Weasleys," Marigold said, showing him the ring, "and the new chain is from Neville. And just yesterday, I got this dragon from Harry," Marigold said, turning to show him.

"That is a beautiful bit of magic there," Professor Dumbledore said, sipping his tea.

Marigold paused for a long moment, taking a sip from her tea as well. "I got a letter from my dad as well." She tried to be nonchalant about it, but Marigold knew that this was what Dumbledore had been waiting for.

"Oh? And how is your family doing?"

"Well, funny you should mention it, but my parents are actually back together now that I'm gone. I even have a baby brother, Florian. I haven't mentioned it to anyone yet, I'm not really sure how I feel about it," Marigold confessed.

"Is Florian like you?"

"No. He's going to have a very happy, non-magical childhood," Marigold said bitterly.

Dumbledore didn't say any more on the matter, and for a brief moment Marigold felt like questioning the Headmaster. She wanted to know why he wanted her father to write to her, why he didn't want her to forget her family like she so desperately wanted to. She looked up from her tea, about to open her mouth, but decided against it.

"What were you reading?" she asked instead.

"Oh, of course." Professor Dumbledore handed her the book. "As I understand it, you enjoyed the book I gave you last year, so I wanted to give you another one."

Marigold looked down at the small blue book with green bindings. Fight or Flight: or Everything You Need to Know About Dueling was printed on the cover in pretty silver writing.

"Another book about dueling?" she asked, flipping through the pages.

"I thought that, since you enjoyed all the non-verbal spells that go along with dueling, you might want to know how a duel actually works," Dumbledore said, a smile in his voice. "Think of it as a late birthday present."

"Thank you very much," Marigold said, looking up from the pages. "Would you like me to write to you again? Like I did last year?"

"I would like that. Now, I'm not going to hold you here all day, but before you leave can I give you some advice I've learned over the years?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Rely on your friends, especially when you don't know how you feel about something. They are there to help you."

"Thank you, Professor, I think you are right."

Marigold got up and walked toward the door; she had almost reached it when Dumbledore called out again.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, making her spin around. "The book doesn't say this, but I've found that your fists are great assets, especially in times where magic might not be the best option."

Marigold nodded, blushing, and turned to leave. As she walked back to Gryffindor Tower she wondered how Dumbledore knew about the scuffle on the Quidditch pitch. But then again, Marigold would have been more surprised if the headmaster hadn't known about it.

Marigold met up with Harry and Neville after her meeting with Dumbledore and they had finished their weekend homework. Not long after, Harry and Ron left for their detentions, something Marigold had forgotten about due to the incident earlier that day. Hermione mumbled something about studying, then left for the girls' dormitories.

So, while Harry was serving detention with Professor Lockhart, something Marigold somehow kind of envied, Marigold had sat herself down in the common room and started reading her new book. Neville had been rereading his old notes, but with dinner weighing heavily on his stomach he had nodded off early on.

It was a very interesting book to say the least, and very easy to read. She was halfway through the book when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open. Bewildered, Marigold closed her book in time to see Harry stumble into the common room. Harry took a seat next to Neville, who woke up very confused as to why his notes were sticking to his face.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Marigold asked.

Harry just shook his head in response.

Neville, realizing the situation, ripped the notes off his face. "Was it Lockhart?"

"No," Harry said, not bothering to look away from the smoldering fireplace.

"Well then, what was it? You look awful, Harry," Marigold said, setting her book down next to her.

"I'm not really sure I didn't imagine it," Harry confessed. "Lockhart had me help him sign autographs for four hours and I was definitely losing my mind. He kept saying stupid things like fame's a fickle friend, or celebrity is as celebrity does. I was honestly wishing that Voldemort would burst into the room and kill me when I heard it…" Harry trailed off.

"Heard what, Harry?" Neville asked, alert, all traces of sleep gone spare a small smudge of ink on his cheek.

"A chilling voice, a breathtaking icy voice."

"A voice?" Marigold asked. "What do you mean a voice? What did it say?"

Harry looked at her and she felt a chill go down her spine. His eyes weren't really looking at her, they weren't even looking through her. He looked agitated, but he wasn't moving around… he looked haunted.

"Come, come to me. Let me rip you. Let me tear you. Let me kill you." Harry paused, "and to make matters worse? Lockhart didn't hear it."

321 Regret is Never Fun, ABC Grades are Never Easy

Marigold didn't know what to think about the voice Harry had heard. She went over every possibility she could think of, but nothing made sense. She wondered if she should write Dumbledore about it, but then thought better about that. Hearing voices was never a good sign.

So after saying goodnight to Neville, who looked just as concerned as she did, and to Harry, who looked lost in thought, she decided to crawl in her bed, draw her curtains, and finish her book. She eventually fell asleep after rereading the same sentence for about an hour, not even comprehending that she had been doing so.

Harry and Neville decided to do absolutely nothing on Sunday, which Marigold would have loved to do had Colin and Ginny not asked for help on their homework the day before. So while Harry and Neville lounged about in the common room doing who knows what, Marigold led the two first years to the library.

"Alright then, what classes do the two of you have homework in?" she asked, sitting down in one of her favorite spots.

It was a small table by the window. She could look out onto the rainy grounds and see the seemingly never-ending Forbidden forest. The window started fogging up as soon as they sat down, the rain trickling down the window getting obscured in the process.

"Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration," Ginny sighed.

"Don't forget the History of Magic paper," Colin added.

Ginny slammed her head on the table in response. Her hair created a wall of orangy-red around her face, but Marigold knew exactly what face she was making under there.

Marigold just chuckled, "I told you there was going to be a ton of homework, Ginny."

"I think all of this is amazing!" Colin said, excitedly.

"That's because it's all so new," Marigold said. "Last year Hermione and I were the top of the class, and honestly I think it's because of our Muggleborn status."

"Why do you say that?" Ginny asked, lifting her head.

"Well, everything is just so new and fascinating." Marigold paused to think. "Those who come from magical backgrounds, and have grown up knowing about magic, no offence, but you seem to miss the, well, magic of it. For us Muggleborns, everything is new and exciting! We want to learn as much as we can, so we dive into the homework grasping every bit of magic we can get our hands onto.

"Especially first years. I was so hungry for every ounce of magical knowledge because magic still felt like a dream. My situation at home aside, the idea that magic exists, let alone that you can possess it, is a dream come true for all Muggleborns, not just myself."

"I never thought about it that way," Ginny said, thoughtfully.

"What do you mean your situation?" Colin asked.

"We should work on Potions first, since that will be the most difficult," Ginny said, giving Marigold a knowing look.

"Agreed, Snape is the worst with homework." Marigold smiled back at Ginny.

Marigold, having known that Ginny would probably need help, had packed all her old notes from last year. She grabbed those from her bag and the three of them set off to work.

Marigold helped them with the twelve uses of dragon's blood, doing her best to help them find the answers, while not giving them to them. Colin was getting used to writing with a quill and ink, but his handwriting had a long way to go. His notes were barely legible and he kept smudging his homework, which Marigold knew Snape would mark off on.

Marigold took several minutes teaching Colin how to hold his quill in a way that wouldn't smudge the wet ink.
"It's completely different than a pen or pencil," she explained. "You need to hold it like this." She demonstrated with her own hand on her quill.

"This way?" he asked, repositioning his fingers.

"That way would get rid of the smearing issue, but you would get the worst hand cramps. Here, let me show you." Marigold set down her own quill and quickly repositioned Colin's fingers.

"There you go," she said, after he had written a sentence without smudging. "Don't forget to re-dip your quill, you don't want to run out of ink and have it look scratchy."

"Thanks, Marigold," Colin said, smiling.

"Of course! It took me and Harry a few weeks of ink black hands and painful wrists before we figured this out."

"Oh don't lie, Marigold," Ginny said, giggling. "You still get ink all over yourself."

"Yeah, but that's because I have a crappy quill," Marigold insisted.

After finishing up with Potions, they worked on memorizing the Transfiguration formula and the seven classifications of spells.

"Wait, so a jinx is darker than a hex?" Colin asked, confused.

"No, a jinx is less than a hex and a hex doesn't even match up to a curse," Ginny corrected.

"Exactly," Marigold said, nodding along. This was on the final exam for the class last year, so do your best to memorize these and be able to give examples."

"Like the bat bogey hex," Ginny said with a grin.

Last, but not least, Marigold helped them write their paper on Elfric the Eager, which was somehow more boring than it had been when she had done it. One would think that a paper on a revolt would be interesting, but somehow Binns made everything mundane.

It was half past noon when the three of them made their way to the Gryffindor common room, exhausted but content with all the work they had gotten done. Ginny said a quick thank you, then made her way up to her dorm. Colin mentioned something about writing to his brother, said his thanks, and then disappeared as well.

Harry and Neville were nowhere to be seen, so Marigold decided she would sit down and write to Charlie, not having done so since she had gotten back to Hogwarts.

Dear Charlie,

It's been a while since I last wrote to you. Classes have been so crazy this year already, and we've only been back a week! Ginny seems to be settling in really well and she's already made a friend! His name is Colin and he's Muggleborn like me. He seems really nice, even if he is a little over the top sometimes.

Harry got me the most amazing hair tie for my birthday, I think you'll get a kick out of this. It's a little rose gold dragon with opals for eyes. He wakes up and wraps himself around my hair then falls asleep holding his tail. He's really cold in the morning.

So, speaking of birthday presents… I got a letter from my father on my birthday. I don't really know how to put all of this into words. I haven't really talked to anyone about the letter except Headmaster Dumbledore, who, as you already know from last year, likes to talk to me since I'm the only full scholarship student. Dumbledore suggested that I talk to someone about what my father told me. I don't want to worry Harry and Neville about this because school has been really difficult… but I don't really want to worry you about it either…

It's been eating me up inside, though, and I really should talk to someone about it…

So… here it goes.

Last year, after my father kicked me out, he ended up calling my mother (over the telephone; it's a Muggle device that allows you to talk to a person in real time, rather than over a letter). He told her that I was finally gone. Seeing as I was the reason she left in the first place, it's understandable that the two of them decided to get together and catch up.

I guess I really was the only problem in their marriage because they are remarried now. That's fine and all I guess. Maybe they'll be happy now that I'm gone… I mean, they had a baby so they must be doing well. The baby's name is Florian, I think he's about five months old now, and according to my father he doesn't have an ounce of magic in him.

I really have no idea how I should feel about having a brother, Charlie. I mean, he's going to have a completely normal childhood. I mean, I'm happy for him because nobody deserves to go through what I did, but at the same time… he's going to have a completely normal childhood.

As horrible as it is to say it, I'm jealous. I'm jealous of a baby I'm never going to meet because he's going to get everything I didn't. And, yeah, it's a good thing that he's not going to have to deal with what I did… but I still had to go through all of that. It's not fair and I'm angry. I'm so angry, Charlie. I try not to think about it because I feel horrible every time I do, but I end up thinking about it anyway…

Am I a bad person? Am I terrible for being jealous of my baby brother because he's going to have a good life when I didn't? I feel like a bad person… I feel like being angry at an innocent baby makes me evil in some way. Why am I angry at him anyway? I'm angry at my parents too for all of it, but I'm angry at Florian when all he ever did was be born without magic.

I mean look at me, I have written this letter over and over again, not sure if I even want to tell you about him because I feel guilty. I feel guilty for being jealous. I feel guilty for being mad that he will have what I desperately wanted… what I deserved.

I can't tell Harry and Neville about this and I lied when I said it was because I didn't want to bother them. I don't want them to think I'm a bad person…

Believe it or not, this letter used to be a lot more incoherent. I hope it still makes sense, and I hope I'm not wasting your time…

With love,

Marigold

Marigold looked down at the letter. When she had initially decided to write to Charlie, she had just intended to talk about school and her friends. Now, who knows how much later, she finally had a letter that had all her pent up feelings poured onto the pages. Dumbledore had been right, she really did need someone to talk to.

With tears in the corners of her eyes, she made her way to the Owlery and sent the letter off with a pretty barn owl. When the owl was finally out of sight, Marigold felt lighter, like all the weight that had been on her for the last few months had somewhat lifted.

When she got back to the Gryffindor common room, Neville and Harry were back from wherever they had been. Marigold sat next to them, and the three of them talked about nothing in particular until Marigold had to go to bed several hours later.

Monday morning, Marigold woke up and got dressed as usual. She noticed that her hair was longer than she remembered it being. It was halfway down to her elbows. When had that happened? She supposed she hadn't noticed since it was always up in a ponytail. With a shrug, she combed it back and put in the rose gold dragon, which was just as cold as it always was.

As she waited for Neville and Harry, she thought more about the voice Harry had heard, and what it could mean. By the time Neville and Harry made their way, yawning and stretching, to the common room, Marigold's thoughts had wandered to the letter, and when she would hear back from Charlie.

They ate breakfast quickly. Neville got a parcel from his grandmother containing the several pairs of socks he had forgotten at home, and then the three of them were off to the Herbology greenhouse.

The other students looked just as tired as Marigold felt. One of the Hufflepuff boys was even dozing off. The first week at school had been difficult, and everyone had done a ton of homework over the weekend.

Professor Sprout walked in looking chipper, and clapped her hands, giving all of them quite a start.

"While we wait for the Mandrakes to mature, we will be reviewing the severing charm and then commenting on what it's used against. Does anyone remember the incantation for the severing charm?"

Several hands went into the air, Marigold's included.

"Yes, Susan?" Professor Sprout called.

"Diffindo," she said confidently.

"Correct, five points to Hufflepuff. Now, who can tell me what a Bowtruckle is? Yes, Neville?"

"A Bowtruckle is a small stick-like creature made of bark and twigs," Neville paused, looking around the room nervously. "They live in the trees whose wood can be used to make wands."

"Good, five points to Gryffindor. Now, we won't be using the severing charm on Bowtruckles, ourselves, but we will be reviewing and using the charm this week. I want you to write one foot on how and why it is used on Bowtruckles, due Thursday."

A groan escaped nearly everyone in the classroom, but Professor Sprout chose to ignore them.

For the rest of the class, Harry, Neville, and Marigold worked on severing the vines that Professor Sprout had provided. Marigold noticed that her planner was flashing her new homework.

After Herbology, the three of them made their way to double History of Magic with the Ravenclaws. If Marigold thought that everyone looked tired in Herbology, it was nothing compared to History of Magic. About five minutes into the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards, the only two who were awake and able to take notes were Hermione and herself. And the two of them were having a difficult time as it was.

When the class was over, Marigold had to shake Neville and Harry awake.

"Come on! It's lunchtime!" Marigold heard Hermione say to Ron, who was also asleep. "Honestly!"

With more food in their stomachs, they were finally able to wake up.

Transfiguration was just more review, but at least everyone seemed to be awake. After copying down countless notes, class ended and Marigold stretched, popping her shoulder.

"We have a free period next, we should probably get started on the paper Professor Sprout gave us," Marigold said.

"But it's due Thursday, we have three days to work on it," Harry said with a groan.

"Yes, but we have several other classes this week and they will probably all give us either homework or something to study. Besides, you have Quidditch practice all the time, Harry, that will eat up time you could be doing homework," Marigold said, trying to be reasonable.

"Marigold's right. Besides, we have Potions after that, and I just know Snape is going to be worse this year than last year." Neville sighed.

"Fine, but unlike the two of you, I still have no idea what a Bowtruckle is."

By the end of their free period, they were nearly done with the assignment. They only had two inches to go when they rolled up their parchment and made their way to the dungeons for Potions.

They had had Potions class last week, but they had only gone over what they had learned last year. Professor Snape had pretty much ignored the three of them, which Marigold knew was going to change at some point. It was just a matter of what was going to set him off.

They had Potions with the Slytherins again this year, and as the three of them walked into the classroom, they did their best to ignore Malfoy.

Marigold sat next to Dean Thomas, who had been her Potions partner last year. Dean was having a rather loud discussion with his best friend Seamus, but Marigold didn't bother paying attention, and turned toward Harry and Neville.

"What do you suppose we will have to do today?" Neville asked, looking a little green.

"Well, we've been doing reviews since we got here, so probably more of that," Harry answered.

Marigold was about to agree when Professor Snape swept into the room, robes billowing out behind him. Marigold turned around, and Dean promptly finished his conversation and turned as well.

"Today we will be learning about the Sleeping Draught, so named because it causes the drinker to fall almost instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep. One of several Sleeping Potions, this one is one of the more simple ones." Snape paused, everyone was fumbling for quills and parchment, and he did not enjoy the rustling interruption.

"Can anyone tell me why a witch or wizard would choose to use this potion?" Snape asked, once the scratching of quills had stopped.

Marigold, along with several Slytherin and Gryffindor students, raised her hand.

"Miss Rosenberg?"

"Last year, I saw Madam Pomfrey give several older students this potion to help them sleep during their N.E.W.T's," Marigold said, surprised he had called on her over one of his own students.

"Correct, this potion is very helpful for witches and wizards who are very stressed or anxious."

"No self respecting wizard would need that then," Malfoy said in a loud whisper.

"Today we will learn how to brew this potion," Snape said, ignoring Malfoy as usual. "And you will have a paper due Thursday on its uses."

Everyone groaned, but Snape flipped over the blackboard and everyone had to quickly get the instructions written down in their notes. It was a rather simple potion to make, Marigold noticed. None of the ingredients were particularly volatile or unusual.

Marigold made sure to copy the instructions down exactly as they were, knowing that she would probably miss something if she tried to abbreviate things. She made a mental note to look over the notes Percy gave her, in case there were any tips on this potion.

When class ended, everyone gathered their things and left the room. Snape didn't say anything more, and Marigold's planner was flashing with her new homework. When the three of them got back to the common room, they weren't the only ones who started on the Potions homework right away.

The next few days passed by rather quickly, especially since school was really starting to pick up now. Marigold was anxiously awaiting Charlie's letter. He usually took at least three days to get back to her, but that was if he had a really fast owl. Usually it took a lot longer since Romania was so far away.

When Thursday morning came and went with no letter, Marigold began to feel sick. She told herself she was being silly and that Charlie was probably busy with work… but deep down she worried that maybe she had said too much. Maybe she really was as terrible as she thought she was.

Her morning classes went by in a blur. She was taking notes and everything, but her heart wasn't in it. Double Herbology melted into Charms, which melted seamlessly into History of Magic, and then suddenly she was back in the Great Hall for lunch, trying to drink her orange juice with a spoon.

"You know there are more effective ways to drink orange juice, right?" Harry asked, looking at her with amusement.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, dropping the spoon and blushing.

"Are you okay, Marigold?" Neville asked, setting down his sandwich.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, picking up her own untouched sandwich and taking a bite. "I'm just having a little trouble adjusting to classes. If I have to write one more thing I think my hand will fall off."

"Same here," Neville said, looking down at his hand and massaging it. "I'm not at all looking forward to double Potions next, either."

"At least it's almost the weekend," Harry said half-heartedly.

"I guess, but don't you have Quidditch practice on Saturday?" Marigold asked.

Harry groaned. "On top of so much homework too!"

"We told you Quidditch would eat up your time," Neville said, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, rolling his eyes and stuffing his last bit of sandwich into his mouth. "Come on," he said, still chewing. "We need to get going if we're gonna make it to Potions on time."

Snape's classroom was just as dingy and slimy as ever. After setting her essay on Snape's desk, along with all the other essays, Marigold made her way back to her desk. She sat down next to Dean, and the two of them looked curiously at the two cauldrons in front of them.

"I suppose we will be making the Sleeping Draught today, then," Marigold said, nodding to the cauldrons.

"Suppose so, but the ingredients aren't here," Dean answered.

"He'll probably make us get them from storage based on memory or something. After all, it seems like we aren't working together like we usually do."

The room was filling up, and judging from the chatter, Marigold wasn't the only one who came to that conclusion. Almost everyone was pouring over what notes they had taken, desperately trying to memorize the Sleeping Draught.

"Here, Malfoy, I copied all my notes," Marigold heard Pansy Parkinson say as she handed Malfoy a piece of parchment with frilly handwriting on it.
"How am I supposed to read this?" Malfoy spat back.

Snape walked into the room moments later, and a hush fell over the students as he made his way to the front of the classroom.

"As you have probably gathered, you will be preparing the Sleeping Draught today. You will be working on your own, using the notes I provided you on Monday. While the notes I provided you will make the potion, I hope you looked up additional instructions to help clarify how to make the potion. Now, if you did a poor job taking notes, neglected to look up additional notes, or took none at all, you are still expected to brew the perfect potion.

"Any potion earning less than an E, automatically fails. And remember, a correctly brewed Sleeping Draught will be dark purple in color. You have until the end of class. Begin."

There was a mad dash to the pantry for the required ingredients. But Marigold hung back and reviewed her notes further. She had indeed gone and found Percy's notes on the potion, and had added those in the margins over her own notes.

After determining what she needed, and how much to get, Marigold made her way to the pantry. She knew she had more than enough time to brew the potion, so she allowed herself to relax.

As Marigold prepped her lavender and Standard Ingredient, some students already had their cauldrons on the fire. Marigold looked around the room and was relieved to see that Harry and Neville seemed to know what they were doing. She was equally relieved to see that Pansy and Malfoy looked completely lost.

When she was confident that the paste was the correct consistency, Marigold placed it to the side. She began adding and frothing the Flobberworm mucus. Marigold felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed Professor Snape staring at her. She looked up, but in the split second it took to actually look at him, he had turned away.

With an awkward shiver, Marigold prepped the rest of the potion and set a timer for fifty-nine minutes.

She could hear her classmates whispering amongst themselves, but after a few points were taken away from Gryffindor for "exchanging information" the only noise came from the Slytherins. Marigold decided it would be best if she just kept her head down and watched her potion.

Because of her late start, Marigold took her cauldron off the heat at the same time as a lot of the other students. Marigold's potion was already a really dark purple, which looked promising. Neville's was purple, but not very dark at all, same with Harry and Dean's. The only other potion that looked even remotely as dark as Marigold's, was Hermione's.

Snape had moved from his desk at the front of the classroom, and was making his way around the classroom, stopping to give feedback to a lot of the students, especially the ones doing poorly. When he got to Marigold's potion, which she was just about done with, just three more clockwise stir's to go, he paused, but moved on without saying anything at all.

With a few minutes left, Marigold and most of the other students transferred their potions into vials and went to present them to Professor Snape.

Malfoy received an E, which was ridiculous because his potion was black, not dark purple. Harry also scraped by with an E, but Professor Snape made sure to tell him that he had barely made the cut. Hermione got a solid E, which she didn't seem too happy about at all, but her potion did look really good. Neville outright failed, and so did Dean. But Neville, unlike Dean, was ridiculed in front of everyone, and his vial poured all over the floor.

Marigold was one of the last students to bring her vial up to professor Snape. She was livid at his treatment of her friends, especially Neville who was doing his best to clean the sticky, milky purple potion from the floor. She had to stop herself from throwing the vial at Professor Snape, but only succeeded in jamming it in his hand.

"Well done, Miss. Rosenberg. You must have looked up additional notes, the only student to have done so much." His voice was cold, his praise unwanted. "We have our very first O."

"Thanks," she said coldly, before grabbing Neville up off the floor and turning around to leave the classroom. Harry followed closely behind.

When they were finally out of the dungeons, Marigold let go of Neville's arm and clenched her fists.

"Ohhh, how I'd like to- where does he get off on- if I could only- UGH!" Marigold was furious, stomping all the way to Gryffindor tower. "He had no right treating you like that!"

"Password please," the Fat Lady said.

"The potion was completely wrong though," Neville muttered, once they were in the empty common room.

Marigold whirled around. "That doesn't give him any right to treat you like that though! That was so mean! Completely uncalled for! Don't you dare blame yourself!" Marigold yelled.

Neville and Harry exchanged nervous, confused glances.

"He's a teacher!" she spat, crawling through the portrait hole. "He shouldn't treat students like the way he treats us, he is the absolute worst!"

"Neither one of us disagrees with you, Marigold. So could you stop screaming?" Harry asked.

Marigold stopped. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Fighting them back, she turned around.

"Sorry. I think I'm going to go up to my dormitory and do some reading."

Without waiting for an answer, she ran up the stairs. Flopping down on her bed, she couldn't fight the tears anymore. All the emotions she had felt since the letter from her dad, since talking to Dumbledore, since writing to Charlie, came bursting out.

She curled up under the covers and cried until she couldn't cry anymore. Her throat was sore, her face was warm, and her eyes were really puffy. She sat up, and her pillow looked like a wet snotty mess. Numb, but feeling a little better, she went to the bathroom and washed up.

Looking in the mirror she realized she owed the boys an apology. She didn't want to go back downstairs looking like a mess, but they deserved an apology. She made it halfway down the stairs before she heard the two of them talking.

"She hasn't been herself in days," Neville was saying.

"I know, but what are we supposed to do about it?" Harry asked.

Marigold pressed herself against the staircase wall. She didn't mean to listen in, but now she was hooked.

"I don't know, but we need to do something! She was trying to eat orange juice with a spoon this morning, and I don't think she even ate at all yesterday. She's off in her own world and has been since Saturday, remember how she was zoning out the whole time we talked? I thought nothing of it because she was back to normal Monday… but as soon as Tuesday rolled around, she was back to zoning out." She heard Neville sigh. "I just wish I knew what to do."

"I asked Colin yesterday if anything happened Saturday while they were studying, but he said it was completely normal…"

Marigold stopped listening. She slowly climbed back up the stairs. Of course they would be worried about her, she was acting like a zombie… Marigold felt horrible, but she had no idea what to do about it. She couldn't exactly tell them what had been going on… She couldn't tell them that she was waiting for Charlie to write her back. She would have to tell them what she had told Charlie, and she didn't want to burden them too. She was already worrying them, she couldn't put more of her problems on them.

Marigold would just have to pretend that everything was okay. She could do that. She would just pretend that she had never sent a letter to Charlie. She would also have to stop going through the days in a daze.

That would be manageable, right?

Death Party? Sounds About Right

October rolled around, and Marigold still hadn't heard from Charlie. She was doing her best to act normal, but as the days blurred by she felt more and more like she was slipping. On the outside, she was doing her best to keep Harry and Neville from worrying. She probably wasn't doing a good job though. She seemed to catch them exchanging nervous glances all the time.

She couldn't help it though; every day that passed with no letter dropping in from an owl further convinced her that she had screwed things up and had crossed the line with Charlie. What other reason could there be? She doubted she would receive a letter after nearly three weeks.

She ended up worrying herself into catching a cold. Luckily, it seemed to be going around, and with a bit of Pepperup Potion from Madam Pomfrey, she wasn't the only one with steam coming out of her ears.

Marigold wasn't the only one having a rough time of things. Harry was constantly out on the Quidditch pitch, even though October had brought rainstorms with it. Marigold and Neville did their best to help him keep up on homework, but classes were getting harder and harder by the day.

Snape hadn't gone easy on them after over half the class had failed the Sleeping Draught. They had spent the next few lessons going over the rudimentary aspects of potion making, and they had been assigned a three-foot essay on the importance of a properly brewed potion and the disastrous effects of getting one wrong.

All the Slytherin's picked on Neville because of the essay, even though he wasn't the only student who had failed. But he had been the only student whose potion had been dumped onto the floor, so they took it out on him. Marigold and Harry did their best to cheer him up, but he still blamed himself for the essay as well.

For a while, Marigold helped Ginny and Colin with their homework, mostly to keep herself occupied. But as the weeks went on, Ginny would find a last minute excuse to get out of the study session. This meant Colin would walk into the library alone, and the two of them would just work on their own homework.

Marigold liked Colin a lot, and even though his constant fidgeting with his camera or even the candid pictures she sometimes caught him taking could be a little annoying, she didn't mind the one-on-one study sessions. Especially since he didn't look at her like Harry and Neville had begun to. She missed spending time with Ginny, though. The bond they had developed over the summer seemed to be slipping away with every missed study session.

Colin and Marigold were working in the library one rainy Friday evening two weeks before Halloween when all of a sudden, Marigold was struck with the thought that maybe Charlie had written to Ginny. After all, she still hung out with Colin sometimes, but was avoiding Marigold. Marigold also realized that Fred and George had been too busy recently to hang out with her. Ron and Percy never really paid attention to her in the first place, but even they were barely acknowledging her existence.

Maybe Charlie had told everyone about her, maybe even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Maybe Marigold really was a horrible, jealous person and maybe they wouldn't want her back next summer…

"Marigold, are you okay?" Colin asked, returning Marigold to the real world.

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Oh, yeah," she said, snapping back to reality. "I just remembered that I forgot to do my Astronomy homework that's due tonight." It wasn't exactly a lie. She had forgotten to do it.

"Did you bring it with you? You could work on that while I work my way through this," he said, gesturing to his transfiguration homework.

"Oh, that's okay. If I forgot to do it, then there's no way Harry or Neville remembered. We'll work on it together later tonight," Marigold said with a shrug.

"Harry's a really cool guy!" Colin said, putting down his quill.

Marigold noticed absentmindedly that he was already doing significantly better at writing, his papers were hardly ever smudged anymore.

"I heard from some of the kids in your year about what you guys and Neville did last year!"

"Oh yeah?" Marigold suddenly felt more tired than before. She hadn't thought about that in awhile.

"Someone said Harry fought off six trolls and a giant!" Colin was rambling off, and while Marigold didn't feel like correcting him, she did find it amazing how far the story had been stretched.

"Of course I know what actually happened, or at least parts of it," Colin said, but then his face went rather red. "I asked Ginny if the stories I'd heard were true, and she told me some of the things you had told her… but she said not to talk about it unless you brought it up… oops… Sorry, Marigold," Colin said sheepishly.

"I see…"

"Anyway, let's go back to homework…" Colin sounded like he regretted bringing it up at all.

"Okay." Marigold felt a little guilty for not being more engaging.

Later that night, as Marigold and the boys worked on how to locate constellations for Astronomy class, Marigold felt herself slipping again. It didn't help that Astronomy lasted a little longer than usual, and she wasn't back in bed until way later than one in the morning.

As she stared up at the canopy above her bed, she wondered half-heartedly if she would maybe, finally, get a letter from Charlie tomorrow. But it had been seven weeks, why should she expect to get a letter at this point? What was the point of holding on to something that wouldn't come?

Saturday morning Marigold woke up and washed off her face. It was exactly a week until Halloween, and though the rest of the castle was abuzz, Marigold could hardly find the energy to bother with a holiday. Marigold looked into the mirror and supposed that red, puffy eyes were just going to be part of her face from now on.

Her cheeks were a little sharp and she realized that she looked like Harry had when she and the twins had rescued him from his aunt and uncle. When was the last time she actually ate more than a couple bites? She didn't feel hungry though, she actually felt more nauseous than anything.

Every morning was the same. She woke up, stared at her blotchy thinning face, dreaded going down to the Great Hall, ended up going anyway just to look up at the owls and realize that nothing was going to drop on her plate. Then she might eat a bite or two before pushing away her food and wanting to cry.

She pulled up her hair into a ponytail, but realized she had accidently left the rose gold dragon next to her bed. So, with a shrug, she just decided to leave her hair down. After all, it made her face less noticeable.

The boys met her in the common room half an hour later, and the three of them made their way to breakfast.

"You should really wear your hair down more often, Marigold," Neville said. Had Marigold bothered to turn and look at him, she would have seen a faint blush on his cheeks.

"You think so?" she asked, grabbing her hair to look for split ends. She found several, sighed, and dropped it.

"I agree, it looks nice," Harry said, doing his best to stifle a yawn.

"I mean I guess I could," she paused, thinking of the rose gold dragon. "But you just got me such a nice gift, Harry. I should try to use it a bit more."

Harry just shrugged in response

The three of them sat down in the Great Hall. There weren't many students there yet, so it looked rather empty. Marigold noticed Ginny a little ways down the table. Marigold noticed that she didn't look well. Her face looked a little white. Marigold figured she was probably just stressed about classes or something…

Marigold grabbed a piece of toast and some tangerine marmalade. She didn't even bother to look up when the owls started arriving with the mail. Marigold herd as letters and parcels dropped to the students. Things sometimes crashed into a bowl of eggs or knocked over a goblet. The fluttering and crashing stopped, and Marigold sat her toast down and didn't bother to pick it back up again.

Why did she even listen to Dumbledore? She never should have sent that bloody letter to Charlie.

Ignoring the protests of Harry and Neville, Marigold got up and retreated back to her dormitory. She considered, for the thousandth time, writing another letter to Charlie to apologize, or at least try to explain herself better, something. She ended up sitting in front of the fire until Neville came back from breakfast, instead.

He didn't say anything, of course. He and Harry had long since ran out of ideas on how to get her to talk.

"Harry went to Quidditch practice," he said, plopping down next to her.

"Doesn't Wood know we have a ton of homework?" she sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest, not bothering to look away from the fire.

If she had she would have seen the sad, worried expression on Neville's face. It was an expression that had shown up on his face days before the puffy eyes and sallow cheeks had on hers.

"Probably not…"
"Want me to look over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paper?"

Marigold traded looking at the fire to looking over his paper. It was terrible.

"Honestly, Neville, did you even read Gadding with Ghouls?" Marigold sighed, after reading through his paper.

"What do you think?" Neville asked, sarcastically, throwing a crumpled up piece of parchment into the fireplace.

"You could have at least skimmed through it." She was so tired, "Lockhart might be an idiot, but he did write the book so he knows if you didn't even open it. This is just several paragraphs of sucking up and telling him what a good teacher he is."

Neville laughed. "I'm not even sure what his grading scale is. I'm sure if I just flatter him enough he will give me a good grade and I can fly through the class."
"Be that as it may, you should at least try."

Neville was about to say something, but he didn't get the chance, because a very disgruntled and muddy Harry climbed through the portrait hole.

Knowing there was no point in arguing anymore, Marigold put Neville's paper away.
"What's up, Harry, you look like crap," Neville said with a grin.
"I just had a weird experience with Filch and Nearly Headless Nick," Harry said, pushing his dripping hair out of his face and waltzing over to the fire to dry off.

"Do tell," Marigold said.
"Well, I was tracking in mud from the Quidditch Pitch when I ran into Nick. He was really upset because he can't be a part of the headless hunt club thing."

"Part of what?" Neville asked.
"It's exactly what it sounds like. The ghosts play games like Head Polo," Harry clarified, looking kind of nauseous. "Anyway, Mrs. Norris found me and my mud and ran off and got Filch. I tried to make a run for it, but I got caught and he took me to his office.

"He got distracted by something outside and I got to take a look at something called a Kwikspell he had out on his desk."
"Really?" Neville interrupted.

"What's a Kwikspell?" Harry and Marigold asked in unison.

"It's a beginners course for magic," Neville explained. "It's for Squibs to learn magic, which is impossible because Squibs don't have any magic. My gran says that it's a big scam that preys on desperate people."

"What's a Squib?" Marigold asked.

"Someone who has magical parents, but can't use magic," Neville said with a shrug.

"Well, because I saw the letter, Filch got really angry and embarrassed and I got pushed out of his office. Turns out Nick convinced Peeves to make a ruckus. I said thanks of course… but then I did something I kind of regret…"

"What did you do?" Neville asked, leaning forward.

"So, Nick's five hundredth deathday party is coming up, and he invited us and I said we would go."
"That was nice of you Harry," Marigold said, her head already going back to worrying. "When is it?"
"Halloween," he said sadly. "We're going to miss the feast."

Marigold felt like a deathday party was quite appropriate since she was beginning to look like death. She was kind of glad to not be going to the Halloween feast, the idea of that much food in front of her made her feel ill. Harry, however, seemed to be regretting his commitment to the party with each passing day. The whole school seemed to be itching with anticipation for Halloween night.
The Great Hall had been decorated with live bats, and Hagrid's ginormous pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three grown men to sit in. Having missed last year's Halloween feast, Marigold saw what the castle was excited about.

At seven o'clock, as all the other students made their way to the feast, Marigold, Neville, and Harry walked past the Great Hall and headed toward the dungeons instead. The passageway leading there was decorated as well, but the candles cast a dim, ghostly light onto their faces. The temperature dropped with each step they took.

The three of them paused when they heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard. Neville looked like he wanted to run back to the Great Hall and Harry looked like he wanted to join him. Marigold just pressed on with a shrug.

Marigold turned a corner, Harry and Neville reluctantly at her heels, and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome, I am so pleased you could come.
He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.
It was amazing. The whole room was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people. They were mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them. It was like stepping into a freezer.

"Should we look around?" Harry asked.
"Just make sure you don't walk through anyone," Marigold whispered.

They walked past a lot of ghosts they didn't know, but several they did recognize. The Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. All the other ghosts were avoiding the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains.

Marigold noticed the ghost of a girl a couple years older than herself. If it weren't for her being translucent and floating along aimlessly, Marigold would have sworn she was alive. Unlike most of the other ghosts who had missing heads or bloodstains or other indicators to their death, this girl looked perfectly fine.

Neville and Harry were making their way towards a long table at the other end of the room. Marigold followed, but they stopped a ways away when the smell hit them. Not daring to go closer, they noticed that all the food was rotting. A ghost passed through the table, mouth open as if he were trying to eat, but none of the food disappeared. He slumped as if defeated and floated away.

Marigold heard a wail coming from behind her and whirled around. She noticed that Peeves was laughing at the girl she had noticed earlier. Leaving the boys to gawk at the table of rotting food, Marigold carefully walked through the crowd not wanting to walk through anyone.

As she got closer, the girl came more into focus. She had a round face that was hidden behind lank hair and thick pearly spectacles. She was sniffing and trying to hold it together, but Peeves was chanting something rather rude.

"Moaning Myrtle, Moaning Myrtle, are you going to cry, Myrtle?" He said it over and over again.
Marigold got there just before the girl started wailing.
Peeves cackled and left, leaving Myrtle behind sobbing.

"Uh, hello, Myrtle. I'm Marigold." Marigold said, hesitant and unsure what to say next.

"Have you come over here to tease me too?" she asked through hiccoughs.
"Why would I want to tease you?" Marigold asked, confused.
"Because everyone teases me! It's always fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!" she wailed.

"You forgot pimply!" Peeves hissed into her ear, appearing out of nowhere.

Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and before Marigold could say anything at all to comfort her she fled from the dungeon. Deflated, Marigold went back to the boys who were talking with Nearly Headless Nick. He was saying something about a speech when a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman, burst through the dungeon wall. Nick looked murderous.
The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing a horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone but Nick and the three of them laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck with a squelching noise.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick" Nick said, stiffly.

"Live'uns!" Sir Patrick said, spotting Marigold, Harry, and Neville and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again. Neville and Harry looked a little sick but the crowd howled with laughter.

Marigold stopped listening. She felt tired. She wanted to go to bed. Nick was struggling to recapture his audience. The three of them exchanged glances and quietly backed out of the dungeon. Nobody paid attention to them over the roars of laughter as Sir Patrick's head went sailing over the crowd.

"Maybe there's still dessert at the feast?" Neville said, trying to cheer them up.

Harry froze in front of them. All the color drained from his face. Marigold snapped to attention. Something was wrong.

"Harry, what's-"

"It's the voice," Harry snapped, cutting Neville off.

Marigold listened hard, but couldn't hear anything at all. Harry looked up, a look of confusion plastered on his face.
"This way!" he shouted, and then he was off.

Marigold and Neville quickly took off after him. He ran up the stairs, and they followed. He ran into the entrance hall where he stopped, Marigold couldn't hear anything over the babble of talk from the Halloween feast echoing out of the Great Hall. He took off again, sprinting up the marble staircase to the first floor.

"Harry!"
But Harry cut Neville off again, with a hush.

Harry turned green. "It's going to kill someone!" he shouted and ran up the next flight of steps.
Marigold grabbed her wand out of her robe and raced after him, Neville close at her heels.
Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor. The two of them followed him, not stopping until he turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry I couldn't hear anything!" Neville panted.

Marigold felt a hitch in her breath, something tasted weird in the air. Ignoring the questions from Neville and Harry, she walked forward. Something was shining on the wall ahead. Letters a foot high had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"What is that? Hanging underneath?" Harry breathed.

Neville almost slipped. There was a large puddle of water on the floor. Harry grabbed him and hung back as Marigold inched forward, her wand out in front of her. With a sickening realization she jumped back.
"It's Mrs. Norris!"

She was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

"We need to go," Marigold said, turning away from the writing and the cat.

"Shouldn't we try to help?" Harry began awkwardly.

"Marigold's right," Neville said. "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late. A rumble told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people. The next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the handing cat. Marigold, Neville, and Harry stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.
"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

Marigold could have cursed him.

The Writing on the Wall

Marigold could have cursed him. She should have cursed him, but she didn't get the chance to do so.
"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted, no doubt, by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What has happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

His bulging eyes fell on Marigold and the wand in her hand.

"You!" he screeched. She held up her hands in defense and flinched away. Filch momentarily didn't look like himself. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

Filch lunged forward and Marigold jumped back.

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived, followed by a number of teachers. Relief swept over Marigold. In seconds, Dumbledore had swept past Marigold, Harry and Neville, and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Rosenberg, and Mr. Longbottom."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly and Marigold had to fight to keep herself from rolling her eyes.
"My office is nearest, Headmaster. Please feel free."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said.
The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Marigold could feel the eyes of hundreds of students on her, but she kept her gaze locked on the back of Dumbledore's head and held her head high as she followed him through the crowd of students. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after them. So did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls. No doubt the occupants of the portraits were rushing off to whisper amongst themselves. Marigold didn't look away from Headmaster Dumbledore and Mrs. Norris. Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her.

Marigold heard Harry and Neville sit down in chairs behind her, but was rooted to the spot where she stood.

The tip of Dumbledore's long crooked nose was barely an inch from the cat's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing an odd expression. He was looking from her to Harry and back again. He was trying to be discrete, of course, but not doing a good job of it. Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her, probably the Transmogrifian Torture, I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…"

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry racking sobs. Marigold was growing increasingly uncomfortable. She always did her best to steer clear of Filch and whenever she did accidently encounter him he was nothing but mean. To see him act like this, a crying, pathetic mess… it was very awkward to be standing there.

Filch was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Marigold detested Filch, and he had lunged at her earlier, but at the same time, with every smart comment Lockhart made, she wanted to punch the professor.

Though that wouldn't be a smart thing to do. If Dumbledore believed Filch that she had killed Mrs. Norris, she would be expelled for sure. Who knew what would happen to her if she got expelled, she wouldn't go back to the Weasley's that was for sure. She was only there because she was on a scholarship. Tey wouldn't keep her if she was expelled. Not that she knew if they would want to keep her after her letter to Charlie, anyways. Marigold was holding her breath, her whole body trembling at the possibility of nevering returning to Hogwarts again. What would even happen to her, would she ever be allowed to use magic again?

Dumbledore was muttering under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing was happening she continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

Where would she even go if she got expelled? Hogwarts was her home, there was nowhere else to go! Would she have to go live with her parents? No. No way. She was definitely not going to go back there. She couldn't, she wouldn't go back. She'd have to run away. Or she could live in the Forbidden Forest, keep an eye on Neville and Harry in case they needed help. Maybe she could live with Hagrid?

Filch's racking sobs weren't helping the matter. Marigold ventured a look back at Neville and Harry. They looked as nervous as she felt. Neville looked particularly out of place. His round face was pale and he was gently swaying. Harry just looked nervous and constipated. Marigold was sure he was confused about the voice he had heard earlier. Marigold just wanted to curl up in her bed far away from the whole situation, pretending it had never happened. She really wanted to talk to Charlie. All of this was just too much!
"—I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," Lockhart said. "There was a series of attacks. The full story is in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared up the matter at once…"

What if all three of them got expelled? Well, Harry probably wouldn't get expelled, but she and Neville could… Marigold immediately started shaking at the thought.

At last Dumbledore straightened up.
"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.
Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented. Marigold, allowing herself to breathe again, felt her knees buckling. She was relieved to hear that Mrs. Norris was ok, and with that revelation all her worries of expulsion disappeared. She was also really relieved that Lockhart had shut up; his blabbering had only added to her stress.

"Not dead?" Filch choked, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why is she all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore said ("Ah! I thought so!" Lockhart interjected...). "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask her! Her wand was out and everything!" shrieked Filch, his blotched and tearstained face glaring at her.

"No second year could have done this," Dumbledore assured him. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"
"Well then ask him!" Filch screamed, turning to Harry. "He just found out, he just saw— he knows I'm a Squib!"

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, looking really uncomfortable that the attention had turned to him.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape said, emerging from the shadows. Marigold's heart sank; nothing good would come from Snape's mouth.
"Potter, Rosenberg and Longbottom could have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth giving away his true thoughts on the matter. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"

"We were at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party," Marigold said quickly. "There were hundreds of ghosts if you want to ask around!"

"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape asked, his cold, black eyes glittering. "Why go up to that corridor?"

Harry started sputtering.

"Because I'm tired and wanted to go to bed," Marigold lied. "Harry and Neville were trying to convince me to go down to the feast, at least for desert."

She hoped her physical appearance would help sell the lie.

"We will be able to cure Mrs. Norris," Dumbledore said, Snape's eyes turned from hers. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in, probably annoyed that the conversation hadn't been about him for a few moments. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," Snape said icily, "but I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Marigold, and Neville.
Without question, the three of them left as quickly as they could without running. When they were up a floor from Lockhart's office, Marigold turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them.

"Do you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" Harry asked into the darkness.

"No," Neville said, shaking his head. "Hearing voices is never a good sign, and we barely got out of there as it was."

"You do believe me…don't you?"

"Of course, Harry," Marigold whispered. "But it's weird."

"Of course it's weird," Harry said. "What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened? What's that supposed to mean?"

"No idea," Marigold admitted. "But I think I know a bookworm who might."

A clock chimed somewhere.
"Midnight," Neville said. "We'd better get to bed before someone comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

Marigold woke up the next morning wanting nothing more than to talk to Charlie about what had happened the night before. She knew he would have something to say, but she had long since given up on him ever writing to her again.

She waited for the boys to come down and the three of them went to the Great Hall together, none of them saying a word. When they walked in, the already loud room got even louder. Word had spread, and even those who hadn't been in the corridor last night knew what had happened.

Marigold grabbed a piece of toast and some tangerine marmalade. The owls came in and Marigold heard the usual commotion, but she just continued to spread the marmalade on her toast. Marigold had just finished doing so, when the toast was knocked out of her hands.

She couldn't believe her eyes. A letter was face down on her toast. Seconds later, a second letter plopped down, causing her goblet to topple over. With shaking hands she lifted the letters. Even through the orange goo and the pumpkin juice splatters, she could tell who had sent them. Marigold looked up and saw that Harry and Neville were eying her with concerned looks on their faces.

"I have to- I'm going back-" was all she managed to say before jumping up from the table and racing back to her dormitory.

Neville called out, but Marigold didn't stop running until she was back in bed with her curtains drawn.

She set the letters down and drew her knees close to her. One was from Dumbledore, and she could guess what that was going to be about… but the other one was from Charlie! Should she even read it? What if it was horrible? What if it wasn't? She picked it up and put it back down several times, second-guessing herself every time. Marigold realized that if she didn't read it she would probably go insane. So, with a trembling finger, she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Dearest Marigold,

I am so, so sorry I took so long to respond to your letter. I was running late for work when the post arrived and I put your letter on my desk on my way out the door. When I got back home, I had completely forgotten about it and the desk got covered with work and your letter was buried.

When I finally found it again I immediately knew I had messed up. I can only imagine how you have felt all this time. Merlin, you must have thought I had abandoned you. In the future, I promise I will not place your letter to the side.

I want to preface the rest of this letter by telling you that I have no idea what the right thing to say is. Just like your letter to me was written and rewritten, my letter to you has been as well. I wish I knew the right words to say, or advice to make you feel better, but all I can say is that you are not a horrible person, Marigold.

We have talked about a lot of things in the short amount of time we have known each other and while I know a little bit about what you went through at home, I honestly cannot say I fully understand. What I do know, though, is that no child should have to go through what you were put through. What your parents did to you was horrible.

The fact that you want what your brother will have does not make you a jealous, evil person. You are not a terrible person for wanting the love and care you should have had. I think your reaction to this information has been completely understandable. Honestly, I feel like any other reaction would be strange, so don't feel guilty.

Though I can't say for sure, because I'm not you, I would venture to guess that you aren't really angry at your brother. I think that deep down you realize it's a good thing that he doesn't have magic because he won't have to go through what you went through. But again, I'm not you… only you can figure out what you are truly feeling.

I want you to know that I support you one million percent and I think you are truly a good person. You just have some things to think about.

I don't know if this helps, but I want to remind you that you still have some years left in your childhood. I know for a fact that mum and dad will give you all the love and care you deserve, and if I know anything about my parents, it's that they love you. We all love you, Marigold. You are a part of our family now, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm proud to call you my sister and it's because you are a wonderful young lady. (Merlin, I feel old saying it that way, but I mean every word.)

I am glad that you feel comfortable enough to tell me how you are feeling. I promise I won't betray that trust again and take several months to get back to you. I do, however, want you to know that I'm not the only one who cares about you. All of us Weasleys are here for you, and I know that Harry and Neville care as well. I don't want to tell you what to do, or who to talk to, and I absolutely don't want you to feel like I'm trying to brush you off to someone else. But, at the same time, there are people you can talk to who can physically be there for you.

I think it's healthy for you to be talking about this, and I am always here for you; but I can only do so much over a letter. At some point, it might be good for you to talk to someone who can give you a hug while they tell you everything is going to be okay.

For now though, let me tell you this: Everything is going to be okay.

Love you always,

Charlie

Marigold read and reread the letter over and over again. Charlie wasn't angry! He didn't think she was horrible! He loved her, and, best of all, he had called her family. Marigold knew she was crying, but unlike the last eight weeks, she was crying because she was happy. He thought she was a good person.

All the weight that had been on her shoulders since her birthday, since finding out about Floria, felt like it had been lifted a bit. Even the events of last night seemed like they could be figured out! Charlie was right, she should talk to someone else about this, it didn't have to be now, or even soon, but she knew that if this letter had made her feel this much relief, an actual conversation would probably feel even better.

She had to write him back right away.

Dear Charlie,

I'm not going to lie, these last weeks have been really difficult. I thought you weren't writing back because you thought I was a terrible person. I thought you agreed with me, but I was freaking out over nothing. Thing is, I know you are busy, and I feel bad because I didn't even think about that.

I was so relieved when I got your letter. All my worries have slipped away. It's good to know that what I'm feeling is okay.

I think you are right. I'm still going to talk to you because I really like talking to you, but I think I might also talk to Harry and Neville. I can't say when, but I think I will.

I'm glad we can talk like this, and thank you for supporting me.

Love you always,

Marigold
P.S. Colin, the friend I mentioned earlier, has, like, several billion questions about dragons. From the moment Ginny mentioned you worked with dragons, he's been asking us nonstop every little question he thinks of. It was getting in the way of studying, so I had him write them all down. I told him I would answer them, but seeing as you are the expert, I figured I'd just send them to you!

I know you are super busy, but some of these questions are honestly hilarious.

With a satisfied grin, Marigold sealed up her letter to Charlie and placed it aside to mail later. She really did feel better. Maybe she was still confused about Florian and that whole situation… well not maybe, she was, but at least now she felt better about Charlie. He had been busy! Of course he was busy, he had an awesome job and she couldn't expect him to write her back promptly every time.

Feeling relieved, Marigold turned her attention to the juice stained letter from Dumbledore.

Miss Rosenberg,

If you could come to my office at your earliest convenience, I would greatly appreciate it. I would like to discuss some things.

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. The password is Licorice Wands.

Marigold decided it would be best to not keep Dumbledore waiting, even if the note said earliest convenience. So, with plans to swing by the owlery after, Marigold ticked her letter under her arm and made her way out of her dormitory. She made it halfway down the windy staircase to the common room before coming to an abrupt halt.

Harry and Neville were standing at the foot of the stairs, they turned around when they heard her and Marigold almost ran back to her dorm. Harry had his arms crossed against his chest and he looked really serious. Neville looked equally serious, but couldn't decide whether to cross his arms or have them on his hips, so he was awkwardly trying to do both.

She had known it would only be a matter time before this happened, and running out of the Great Hall had probably been the last straw. All the same, she was not looking forward to what was about to happen.

"Marigold, we've given you enough time to talk to us on your own," Harry said, trying to sound serious. "Enough is enough, you have to talk to us."
"What is going on with you?" Neville asked. He was trying to sound as stern as Harry but he was still fidgeting awkwardly and it sort of ruined the effect.

The common room wasn't full by any means, but the students who were in there were pretending not to look. Marigold felt a hot flush on her face, and she was glad her hair was down to make her rosy cheeks less noticeable. She tried to sputter out an answer, but no words came out.

"Don't think we haven't noticed what's been going on," Harry said, completely oblivious to the rest of the room and the scene they were making. "You look like crap."

"When was the last time you got a full night sleep?" Neville added, a little quieter than Harry, but still loud enough for the room to hear.
Marigold saw Ginny and Colin climb in through the portrait and freeze. Marigold felt sick. She just wanted to disappear, but Neville and Harry deserved to know what was going on. Not like this though…

"And if you think—"

Marigold didn't let Harry finish his sentence. She quickly ran down the rest of the stairs and grabbed him and Neville by the arm and dragged them up the stairs to the boys dormitory. She could feel everyone's eyes on her.

She burst into their dormitory and Dean and Seamus stopped mid conversation.

"Is everything alright?" Dean asked, looking from Marigold to Harry and Neville.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, her voice beginning to crack a little. "Would it be okay if we had the room?"

Seamus got really red in the face and stood up quickly. Dean just shrugged and got up as well. When the door closed behind them, Marigold turned around to face Harry and Neville.

"What's been going on with you, Marigold?" Neville asked, his voice soft.

Marigold wrapped her arms around herself. What was she going to say? She couldn't lie… but it was too soon. She wasn't ready.

"You haven't been yourself," Harry said. "Talk to us, please."

"Harry, I- I don't know what to say!" she said, her voice finally cracking. "I'm sorry I've been worrying you, but I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I guess making you worry was worse though…"

Neville and Harry nodded.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried, covering her eyes with her hands.

After a few moments of listening to the sound of her own crying, Marigold felt two hands gently rest on her shoulders. With a quivering breath, Marigold lowered her hands. Harry was staring at her with a soft expression on his face.

He had been the first person she had wanted to tell.

"I have a baby brother," she said, wiping snot from her face with her sleeve. "His name is Florian."

With a shaky breath, Marigold sat down on Neville's bed and told them everything. She told them about the birthday letter from her dad; how he had gotten back together with her mother once she had left. She told them about how she felt like a jealous, awful person…

She didn't tell them about her conversation with Dumbledore, though. When she got to that part she just skipped to the letter she sent to Charlie. She told them about how she had felt like he agreed with her, but that he had sent her a letter today and he had just been busy.

As she talked, they didn't say anything. There was a point when Neville gave her a nervous pat on the shoulder, but they just let her talk. They let her cry. When she was done talking there was a long pause, the only sound was Neville patting Marigold's shoulder, and her racking breaths.

"You know, when Neville and I talked about why you were acting so weird, and we talked a lot, we came up with a lot of things…" Harry said. "We thought that maybe you were having trouble adjusting to school, but then we remembered you're you and you love school."

Marigold giggled a little bit at that, wiping her eyes with her robe.

"We even came up with the idea that you had a secret boyfriend over the summer who dumped you when we got back to school," Neville added.

"When would I have had time for a secret boyfriend?" Marigold gave in to a fit of giggles that turned the boys' faces red.

"Well, you weren't exactly talking to us, were you?" Neville said in his defense. The mood shifted again, and Marigold stopped giggling. "We came up with a lot of weird ideas…" Neville said sheepishly.

"We even talked to Ginny and Colin," Harry said. "Not that they had anything particularly useful to say. Just that they had noticed it too."

There was another uncomfortably long pause. Marigold didn't know what to say.

"Thing is, neither of us even considered this as a possibility," Harry said.

"How could you?" Marigold sighed, her eyes felt heavy and puffy again. "I mean, I didn't even think that it could be possible for my parents to get back together."

The air shifted again and Marigold froze. She looked up from her hands. Neville and Harry were looking everywhere and nowhere.

The sudden realization made Marigold feel sick.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I should have thought…"

"Hey, don't worry about it."
Marigold was unsure what to say, so she kept her mouth shut. Neville looked just as uncomfortable. Harry looked out the window. Marigold looked down in her lap and noticed the letter to Charlie and suddenly remembered Dumbledore's urgent note.

"I should probably go send this off," she said. Neville just nodded. "I'll be back in a bit."

Marigold got up and made her way down the boys' staircase to the common room. Everyone who had been so raptly paying attention earlier when Harry and Neville had confronted her, were now paying her no mind. As she walked through, toward the portrait hole, she heard what everyone was talking about.

Marigold wasn't surprised, after all the writing had only appeared last night. Everyone was murmuring about the Chamber of Secrets and what the writing could possibly mean.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting in the corner of the room. When Marigold passed by, she caught a part of the conversation. Ron was telling Ginny about how horrible Mrs. Norris was, and that she really shouldn't worry because the cat was terrible.
Ginny looked worse than she had the last few weeks, more tired, more pale. Her eyes were sunken in and her red hair seemed to bleach her skin. With a clear head, for the first time in ages, Marigold noticed that Ginny was losing weight. For a moment she reminded Marigold of herself; except Ginny had bright brown eyes instead of Marigold's green.

Marigold wanted to stop and see if Ginny was ok, but the knowledge of Dumbledore waiting in his office kept her going. So, instead, Marigold ducked out of the portrait hole and into the busy castle corridors.

Letter clutched in her hand, Marigold walked through the whispering, staring students. Marigold wondered how long the Chamber of Secrets would be the focus of student's attention. The troll last year hadn't lasted very long, but then again, nobody seemed to know anything about the Chamber of Secrets. If anyone did know, they were keeping it to themselves.

All the way to Dumbledore's office, Marigold heard the same questions from different mouths in different ways: What was the Chamber of Secrets? What does it mean, open? Who's the heir? Who are the enemies? We have enemies in this school? Who needs to be worried?

Marigold was hoping that Dumbledore was summoning her to give her answers, but she knew he probably wasn't. When did the headmaster ever give her any information? And why would he? Marigold was just a student. Sure, Dumbledore gave her books and the two of them wrote letters, but that wouldn't exactly give Dumbledore reason to talk with her about situations like this.

Marigold wasn't going to lie, though. She was worried. But Hogwarts was a school, she could find out what the Chamber of Secrets was. Hopefully, she could also find out why Harry was hearing voices that neither she nor Neville could hear.

Marigold paused in front of the grotesque gargoyle she had paused at countless times before. The corridor to either side was empty, the first empty corridor she had reached. There was a different, unfamiliar energy today though.

"Licorice wands."
The gargoyle didn't answer, but opened to a rotating staircase. Feeling uneasy, Marigold walked up the steps and knocked on Dumbledore's door. Nobody answered, but the door swung open. With a shaky breath, hand clutching her letter a little too tight, Marigold walked in.

Dumbledore was pacing the room. The pictures of the past headmasters on the walls followed him with their eyes. Some of the pictures were empty, others were whispering amongst themselves. Dumbledore didn't look at her, but kept pacing, a look of deep contemplation on his face.

Marigold walked into the room, but didn't say anything or sit down. If Dumbledore noticed her presence he didn't let on. Marigold watched as he paced back and forth, and thought that she should have tried to come sooner.

"As you well know," Dumbledore said, continuing to pace. "Our caretaker, Argus Filch, is demanding punishment for what happened to Mrs. Norris."

Marigold didn't say anything.
"Now, I don't plan on punishing you, because I don't think you did anything wrong. However, I do have to talk to you, otherwise I'll never hear the end of it." Dumbledore stopped pacing abruptly and turned to her. "Additionally, I have a few things to ask of you."

Dumbledore walked over to his desk and sat down. He looked exhausted and every bit his age. Marigold supposed he had been pacing like that all night. She also suspected that the little examination in Lockhart's office hadn't been the end of the night for him like it had been for her and the boys.

"I talked to some of the ghosts at the Sir Nicholas' party last night. It seems the three of you were there like you said. Not that I suspected the three of you of lying."

Marigold walked over and sat across from Dumbledore, still not saying a word.

"But I must ask, why not go to the Halloween feast after the party?" Dumbledore was looking straight at her.
Marigold had stayed up late in her four-poster bed figuring out how to lie about why they had been there. She knew she would be asked at some point and knew she had to have a story.

"I didn't feel well," she said looking at Dumbledore. "I told the boys to go on without me, but they had followed me trying to convince me to go."

"You don't exactly look well," Dumbledore agreed, examining her. "And I've heard from some teachers that you aren't looking well in class. I've even heard reports that you haven't been eating."
Marigold irritably wondered who could have pointed that out to Dumbledore.
"Yes, I've been going through a little bit of a hard time," Marigold confessed, wanting to shift the conversation. "I wrote to Charlie and he took a long time to respond to me, so I've been stressed about that. It's ok now, I got a letter this morning and everything was cleared up.

"But last night I just wanted to crawl into bed and be alone. Neville and Harry were trying to convince me to go to the feast when we found Mrs. Norris and the writing." Marigold stopped talking.

Dumbledore looked like he believed her, but then again who knew what went through the headmaster's head.

"Why was your wand out?" Dumbledore asked.

"I saw what I thought was a dead cat and creepy writing on the wall," Marigold answered.

"That is a rather reasonable response," Dumbledore chuckled softly. "How is it, my dear, that you have such a collected head on your shoulders?" Dumbledore mused.

Marigold didn't have an answer. If the last few weeks told her anything, it would be quite the opposite.

"I want you to trust me for a moment here, Miss Rosenberg. Can you do that for me?" Dumbledore was suddenly very serious.
Marigold nodded. He was Dumbledore, of course she could trust him.

"I want you to be careful. Keep your friends close. I can't say what this warning will bring, but I can tell you it's a warning I want you to heed. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

Marigold left Dumbledore's office feeling more uneasy than she had going in. If Dumbledore was warning her to be careful, the Chamber of Secrets was indeed something to beware.

She sent off her letter to Charlie lost in thought.

She didn't say anything to Harry or Neville when she got back to the common room, or at all over the next few days. She didn't pass on the warning from Dumbledore, it felt like a warning only for her, a warning to protect others rather than trouble them.

The next few days passed by in a different kind of blur than the last month or so. The castle spoke of little more than the Chamber of Secrets. Harry told Marigold that he had seen Filch trying to remove the message on the wall, but that no matter how hard Filch scrubbed, the words stayed put.

Marigold noticed how the students were reacting to Harry, and to a lesser extent herself. Harry had been held back one afternoon in potions while Snape made him scrape tubeworms off the desk. When Harry joined Marigold and Neville in the library, he told them that Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him.

Justin wasn't the only one. Marigold had seen a few other students giving the three of them a wide berth.

It wasn't until several days later when Marigold, Harry, and Neville got a lead on what the Chamber of Secrets was.

History of magic was easily the dullest of the subjects. Marigold always did her best to take notes, knowing that Neville and Harry always passed out six minutes into the lecture. Marigold was following along to the lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289 when a hand a few seats ahead of her crept into the air.

Marigold snapped to full attention. Hermione was sitting with her hand in the air, something that happened in other classes but never this one.

Professor Binns looked just as amazed as Marigold felt.

"Miss- er-"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione said in a clear voice.

The effect was immediate. Marigold watched as the room filled with energy. Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance. Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms. Neville, who was sat next to Marigold, nearly smacked his face as his elbow slipped off his desk.

Professor Binns just blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers-"
Marigold caught her breath and Professor Binns stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

"Well," Professor Binns said slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale—"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns' every word.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see…. the Chamber of Secrets…

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago, the precise date is uncertain, by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wanted to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

Marigold felt a chill down her spine. No wonder Dumbledore had warned her. If the Chamber of Secrets was indeed opened, Muggleborns were going to be in trouble. There was unease in the classroom as the other students put things together between the story and the warning on the wall.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," Binns said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand was back in the air.
"Sir, what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," Professor Bins said in his dry, reedy voice.

Marigold and Neville exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," Professor Binns said, shuffling his notes. "There is no chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," Seamus piped up, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Professor Binns said in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing—"

"But, Professor," Parvati Patil piped up, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it-"

"Just because a dark wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't-" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It's a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history. To solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

And Professor Binns did indeed return to history, but everyone in the class did not. The room was abuzz with theories and ideas. And in the time it took the students to get to their next class, the whole school knew of the Chamber of Secrets and the story Professor Binns had told.

Quidditch Catastrophe

"I can't do this anymore, I'm going back to the common room."

"But Ginny, you haven't studied with us in ages," Colin protested, setting his quill down.

"There's too much commotion to study in here."

It was Saturday morning, the day after Professor Binns had told Marigold's History of Magic class about the Chamber of Secrets. She and the boys hadn't had the time to talk before bed, and this morning she was sitting in the library with Colin and Ginny studying. Well, trying to study. Ginny, who was still very pale and thin, was packing up her schoolbooks in a huff.

Ginny didn't say another word before stomping out of the library. Colin and Marigold shrugged and went back to studying. Marigold wondered what was up with Ginny. She really wasn't herself. Marigold wondered if Ginny was homesick, or if there was something else going on. Maybe it was just the stress of school, or perhaps she was homesick… Marigold hoped it was something as simple as that.

Ginny did have a point, though. Somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, the whole castle had learned what Professor Binns had told their class. Because of this, the library was packed with students trying to find anything else they possibly could get their hands on. Those who weren't grabbing at books were whispering amongst themselves about the news. Madam Pince, the librarian, who looked like an underfed vulture, was doing her best to keep the library quiet, kicking students out left and right, but it didn't seem to make a dent in the noise.

Marigold and Colin were probably the only ones in the library, nay the school, who were not talking about it. But a few moments after the two of them returned to studying, Colin started tapping his foot. It wasn't much at first, but every once in a while he would pause and look up, only to shake his head and go back to schoolwork.

Marigold was just finishing up reviewing Colin's Charms homework- with her revisions he was bound to get a good grade- when she heard Colin put down his quill and not pick it up again.

With a sigh, Marigold put down her own quill and looked up into his big, brown, expectant eyes. They looked like they always did when he was about to ask a million questions.

"Go ahead," Marigold sighed, resigned to the fact that if she didn't reply to Colin now, they'd never be able to get anything done.

"Is Harry really the heir of Slytherin?"

"Is that what people are saying?" Marigold asked, amused.

"That's not an answer."

"Oh, I don't know, Colin. I mean Salazar Slytherin lived thousands of years ago, who could even say who his descendants are." Marigold paused. Colin was absentmindedly fidgeting with his camera. He didn't take his eyes off her as she spoke. "I do know that Harry didn't do this. He was raised by Muggles, and while he might have a problem with those particular Muggles, he doesn't have a problem with other Muggles or Muggleborns."

"I figured as much. Harry seems really great." Colin looked down at his camera and wiped the lens with his robe sleeve. He didn't look up when he spoke again. "I don't really talk to him, but when I do he's nice to me. I know he's your best friend, and I don't think you would be friends with anyone bad."

Marigold didn't know what to say.

"I know you are attached to your camera, and I'm not saying don't keep it around your neck..." Marigold paused, trying to think of the best way to continue. "But, the thing is, Harry doesn't really like the attention he gets for being the Boy-Who-Lived. I think I understand what you are saying, though, Colin. If you want to talk to Harry more, just take it easy with pictures. It's not that he doesn't like your company, it's the attention that comes with getting his picture taken, or really attention drawn to him, that makes him uncomfortable."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense…"

"And Colin?"

"Yes?" Colin looked up from his camera.

"If you ever feel uneasy about the Chamber of Secrets," Marigold coughed, suddenly uncomfortable, "or if anything else bothers you, I'm not just an older student here to help you get good grades, I consider you my friend."

"Really?"

"Really."

Marigold, Harry, and Neville didn't get the chance to talk to each other until late that night. Harry had Quidditch all day in preparation for the upcoming match, and Neville and Marigold didn't talk about the Chamber of Secrets until Harry got back. Neville started, but Harry shook his head, so the three of them waited for the common room to clear out, and when it finally did, they talked in hushed whispers.

"What do you think it means?" Neville asked.

"I think it means exactly what it says it means," Marigold whispered. "I think there is a Chamber of Secrets, I think it has been opened, and I think that all Muggleborns should watch out."

"I think Marigold is right," Harry agreed.

"There's something else too," Marigold paused, unsure how to proceed. "I talked to Colin during break when I was helping him with homework. It seems, Harry, that a lot of students think you are the Heir of Slytherin."

"Well that's fantastic," Harry said sarcastically.

"Oh, come off it, Harry," Neville said. "We know it's not you."

"But who could it be?" Marigold pondered. "Who would want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?"

Neville and Harry gave her a knowing look.

"Please," Marigold scoffed. "Malfoy is all talk, he couldn't possibly be the heir."

"You heard him," Neville said, angrily. "You'll be next, Mudbloods! Nobody innocent says something gross like that."

"Neville has a point, Marigold," Harry said. "Besides, look at his family. All of them have been in Slytherin. They could easily be the heirs, just passing the key from father to son over the generations.

Marigold wasn't convinced. "A lot of families have a history of being in the same house. I mean, look at us- I mean- the Weasley's. We- they have been in Gryffindor for ages. Besides, the person behind this isn't likely to draw attention to themselves. Making a threat this big is enough attention."

"I mean that's a fair point, but Malfoy-"

"What if we could prove it was Malfoy?" Neville asked. He had an unusual air of confidence that caused Marigold to pause.

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, oblivious to the look.

"I think I might have an idea."

"Spill it then," Harry said, eagerly.

"Snape was mentioning something in class a few weeks ago about Polyjuice Potion. I thought it would be cool to be someone else for a while so I made a mental note of it."

"It's advanced though…" Marigold said, remembering the potion herself.

"I'm confused, what is Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't like him either but you could still pay attention in class." Marigold sighed. "Polyjuice Potion turns the drinker into somebody else for a short amount of time."

"That way we could pretend to be someone from Slytherin and talk to Malfoy," Neville added. "Or honestly just sit in their common room because he's probably bragging about it to anyone who will listen."

"This whole idea is crazy," Marigold said. "I doubt Malfoy is the heir-"

"It's the only lead we've got."

Marigold wondered for a moment if they should even be looking for leads.

Be careful — keep your friends close — it's a warning I want you to heed.

But it was Harry; of course he was going to go looking for leads. And Marigold would follow him, if only to make sure he didn't get himself in trouble.

"How do we make it then?" Harry asked.
"Well, Snape said the potion was in a book called Moste Potente Potions." Marigold sighed. "A book like that is bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library, and without a signed note from a teacher, I don't know how we could get our hands on it."

"Maybe if we say we just want to look at it for theory? Not to actually make the potions?" Neville asked.

"Who's going to be dumb enough to believe that?" Harry asked.

Neville grinned mischievously and Harry and Marigold instantly put it together. They knew just the teacher.

Since the Defense Against the Dark Arts class when Professor Lockhart let loose a bunch of pixies to ransack his office, he had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he had been reading passages from his books and sometimes reenacted them. Harry was unfortunately Lockhart's muse for these reenactments, so Marigold and the others had to watch as poor Harry had to play along.

Harry was hauled in front of the class during their very next lesson, this time he was a werewolf. Marigold and Neville had begged Harry to keep Lockhart happy until the three of them could talk to him. But Marigold still found it excruciating to watch her best friend embarrassed at the front of the room.

"Nice loud howl, Harry — exactly — and then — if you'll believe it, I pounced — like this — slammed him to the floor — thus — with one hand, I managed to hold him down — with my other, I put my wand to his throat — I then gathered up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm — he let out a piteous moan — go on, Harry — higher than that — good — the fur vanished — the fangs shrank — and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective — and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework — compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

Harry made his way back to Marigold and Neville, a pained look on his face.

"With each class it gets more and more agonizing to watch you act that stuff out." Neville whispered.

"Let's just get this done with," Harry growled.
Once everyone was out of the room, Marigold made her way up to Professor Lockhart who was messing with something in his desk. When he turned around to face them, an embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. She immediately tried to push away her thoughts on how pretty he was, and remember he was an idiot and a terrible teacher, like she had known all year! But with an annoying flick of his hair she realized it smelled like strawberries.

"Um, Professor, sir. There was a book I wanted to get out of the library. I was reading over Gadding with Ghouls and there was something in it that I didn't understand. I think this book could help, but it's in the restricted section, so I was hoping you could sign—" Marigold held out a piece of paper with the name of the book she needed.

"Ah, yes," Professor said, gently grabbing the piece of paper from her. "Gadding with Ghouls, possibly my favorite book. Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, yes! It's in my top two. I also really enjoyed Voyages with Vampires!"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving one of the best students of the year with a little extra help," Lockhart said warmly, as he pulled out an enormous peacock quill.

One of the best? He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to her. One of the best? He really thought she, Marigold Rosenberg, was one of the best students of the year? Of course Hermione was good in classes, but Lockhart thought she was up there too?

"So, Harry," Lockhart said, while Marigold slipped the note into her bag. "This weekend is the first Quidditch match of the season, am I correct? Gryffindor against Slytherin, right? I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try out for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if you ever feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…"

And with that, the blush on Marigold's cheeks disappeared, her disdain returning as Harry made an indistinct noise.

"Thank you professor, I think we should get right on this!" Marigold said, her cheerfulness now fake. Not that Lockhart seemed to notice.

Marigold grabbed Harry and Neville by the sleeves of their robes, and they left the room in a hurry.

"I can't believe it," Neville said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's an idiot," Marigold said. "Not that it really matters, we got what we need, let's go."

Marigold turned to leave.

"A handsome idiot, apparently." Marigold heard Harry whisper with a giggle.

Marigold's face burned, but she didn't say anything as they entered the library. Marigold handed the note to Madam Pince, who looked at it questioningly.

"Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, taking the note from Marigold.

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Marigold carefully put it in her bag, next to her flashing planner, and the three of them casually left the library. Well, as casually as they could after Neville nearly tripped over a chair leg, but that wasn't too alarming to Madam Pince as she was accustomed to Neville's clumsiness.

Once out of the library the three of them quickly raced back to Gryffindor tower, up the stairs, and into the empty boys dormitory. Marigold, out of breath, sat down on Neville's bed and rummaged through her bag for the book. Harry and Neville sat down on either side of her and caught their breath.

Marigold pulled out the moldy-looking book and carefully opened it. Marigold heard Neville gulp. Harry didn't say anything and Marigold didn't know what to say either. It was clear from the first damp, spotted page why it belonged in the restricted section. The three of them held their breath as Marigold gingerly flipped through the pages.

Some of the potions had effects Marigold never could have imagined, and certainly would look at in the future, purely out of curiosity of course. In addition to the gruesome outcomes, there were some very unpleasant illustrations. There was a man who seemed to have been turned inside out, and a witch with several pairs of arms sprouting out of her head. Whether these were the preferred outcomes, or just terrible side effects should the potion be made incorrectly, Marigold couldn't tell at a glance.

As Marigold thumbed through the pages, she could hear Harry and Neville reacting to the book, Neville was fidgeting and Harry seemed uncomfortable. But they didn't say anything to stop her from looking, so she continued on.

"This is it," Marigold said, finally finding the right page.

The Polyjuice Potion was at the head of the page, while the rest was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Their looks of agony weren't lost on Marigold. Not only were they going to be breaking about a thousand school rules, but there were also real bodily risks going into this.

Marigold read over the ingredient list and instructions.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," Marigold said, finally. "I mean, lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass are in the student store-cupboard. But a lot of these will be difficult to obtain. Powdered horn of a bicorn and the shredded skin of a boomslang are probably in Professor Snape's personal storage… but look at this…" Marigold pointed to the last ingredient.

"A bit of whoever we want to change into?" Harry asked, astonished.

"Well how else would we turn into someone else?" Marigold answered.

Neville gulped, Harry didn't look so convinced anymore.

"Look guys," Marigold said, shutting the book. "We need to really be sure we want to do this. Stealing, drinking bits of another person, possible disfiguration… Are you sure-"

"It's the only way to see if Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin," Harry interrupted.

Marigold only nodded. She could tell there was no changing his mind. She felt slightly frustrated that Harry was being so stubborn. She was almost certain that it was someone else. Malfoy was all blather and no action. She looked to Neville.

"Nev?"

There was a long pause before Neville spoke. "I'm in." It had been his idea, after all.

"Ok, well now that we have that settled, there are a few things we need to figure out first."

"Like what?" Harry asked, moving to his own bed.

"Well, I have an idea on how to get the ingredients we need, but we're going to need to find a place where we can brew this potion without being found. We can't exactly brew it here in Gryffindor tower."

"Well, why not? The boy's dormitory is pretty empty on the weekends," Harry said.

"For one, the potion takes about a month to-"

"A month?" Neville squeaked.

"Neville's right, Marigold. Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!" Harry said urgently. Marigold shot him an exasperated glance. "But it's the only plan we've got, so let's keep our eyes open for something."

Marigold fought the urge to roll her eyes. She also fought the feeling that they might be wasting a month's worth of time. Harry had a point, in a roundabout way. Whoever was doing this could attack half the Muggleborns in the time it took them to brew the potion. If it turned out to be someone other than Malfoy, like she was almost sure it was, then they could potentially be wasting this month. But at the same time, this was the only lead they had.

"What's the other thing we need to figure out?" Neville asked.

"Well, I guess it's two parts to the same question. One, who are we going to turn into, and how are we going to keep them out of the way while we talk to Malfoy?"

Marigold woke up Saturday morning feeling genuinely excited for the Quidditch match. Poor Harry must have been up for hours by now, running through all of Oliver Wood's last minute training sessions. She showered and got dressed, before making her way downstairs and slouching down in a big chair where she sat and waited for Neville to come down.

Neville came downstairs at about nine, and the two of them made their way to breakfast. They spotted Harry with the rest of the Gryffindor team. They looked sweaty and tired, and Marigold knew the only reason they weren't still practicing was because one of them had convinced Oliver that Breakfast was a good idea.

One look at their solemn faces and Marigold suddenly remembered what they were up against. In the commotion of the last few weeks, she had completely forgotten about the fight on the grounds and the fact that the Slytherin team had the fastest brooms on the market.

Marigold and Neville wished Harry good luck as the team made their way back out of the Great Hall. The two of them scarfed down their breakfast, before making their way to the Quidditch stadium with the rest of the school. Marigold sat next to Colin, who had his camera around his neck and was already snapping at everything that moved, which unfortunately for Marigold, included several candid pictures of her.

It was a little while before the Slytherin team walked out onto the pitch, green robes billowing behind them, sleek brooms glistening bright enough to see from the stands. In the stands across from where they were seated, the Slytherins erupted into cheers and whistles.

Moments later, the Gryffindor team walked onto the pitch, their scarlet robes and older brooms a stark contrast. Marigold found Harry right away because he was the only one with a decent broom, not to mention the smallest of the lot.

Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, observed as Captains Flint and Wood shook hands.

"On my whistle," Madam Hooch's voice boomed around the stadium. "Three… two… one…"

Marigold's breath caught in her throat as cheers erupted around her, and all fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry rocketed above all of them and hovered in midair. Marigold knew he was searching desperately for the Snitch. Marigold figured that Oliver probably wanted Harry to get the Snitch before Malfoy could and before any Slytherins could score.

Marigold liked watching Harry during games. She had made a game out of trying to find the Snitch before he did. She never could. Even when Harry located the Snitch and went after it, Marigold could never see what he was chasing after, just that he was going after something.

So, Marigold was probably one of the only ones watching Harry, seeing as the rest of the match was probably more entertaining. She watched as Malfoy zoomed around, probably taunting Harry, and gasped as a Bludger pelted toward Harry who narrowly missed it.

George came to the rescue, pelting the Bludger with a good whack toward a nearby Slytherin player. Marigold's relief turned into confusion as the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped in altitude to avoid it, a move that made Marigold's stomach churn, and George managed to hit it toward Malfoy. But, once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Marigold absentmindedly grabbed Neville's sleeve. She didn't know if he had noticed or if he was even looking towards Harry. Usually watching the Seekers was really boring since they were mostly just looking for the Snitch, but, for once, the Seeker was way more interesting than anything else going on in the game.

Harry shot off toward the other end of the field. Marigold watched, confused and horrified, as the Bludger whistled along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers didn't focus on a single player like this. They were tricksters! Their job was to unseat as many players as possible.

Harry dived at the last minute to avoid hitting Fred, who was waiting for the Bludger and swung with all his might, propelling the Bludger in the opposite direction.

Was nobody else seeing this? What was even happening in the rest of the game that nobody would notice this commotion? Marigold took a chance and tore her eyes off Harry and turned to Neville, who was wide eyed and watching Harry as well.

Neville looked away from the sky, his pudgy face white. It started to rain. Big drops pelted down, Marigold could only imagine how hard rain could be while on a broom. Marigold dropped her hand, which was still on his sleeve, down to his hand. The two of them didn't say anything, but Lee Jordan's commentary reached their ears drawing them out of a trance.

"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

Marigold looked back at the sky. The Slytherin team was a blur through the raindrops, their new brooms clearly doing their jobs. The mad Bludger was still trying to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were on either side of him doing their best to keep him in the air.

George was barely able to keep the darned thing from breaking Harry's nose. Moments later, Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and everyone dove to the ground. Everyone huddled up, and Marigold couldn't make out what was being said, but she hoped someone would do something about the obviously tampered with Bludger.

Madam Hooch approached the huddle, and moments later it disbanded. On her whistle, Harry shot up, unaccompanied by Fred and George, the Bludger was on his tail the moment he lifted off the ground. At this point everyone in the crowd had noticed what was going on, a time out generally does that, and a lot of student's laughed as Harry looped, swooped, zigzagged, and rolled.

Harry was doing his best to keep away, but there were too many close calls to count. Each near miss sent Marigold's stomach to new places in her body where no stomach belonged.

Malfoy flew close to Harry, but not close enough to be in the way of the Bludger. He must have said something to Harry, because Harry paused in mid air. He was there for too long, and with a hit that Marigold could feel from the stands, the Bludger made contact with Harry. Harry slid sideways on his broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling at his side. But the Bludger didn't stop! It came pelting back, straight at Harry's face.

Harry dove toward Malfoy, took the remaining hand off his broom, and made a desperate grab at what Marigold recognized (for the first time ever) as the Snitch! His hand closed, and then he hit the ground hard.

Marigold was out of her seat before Lee Jordan could announce the game was over. In a blur of rain and anxiety, she somehow managed to get onto the pitch before even Madam Hooch.

Harry was on his side and Marigold quickly rolled him over. His arm was at an awkward angle and Marigold could tell that it was very, very broken. Marigold could hear her heartbeat in her ears. His eyes were closed and Marigold assumed he had passed out after falling off his broom.

The Bludger came hurtling out of nowhere and smashed into the ground where Harry had been just seconds before. Marigold let out a startled yelp, hunched over Harry blocking him with her body in case the bludger came back.

When it didn't break her back, Marigold looked up and saw that Fred and George had touched down and were fighting to get a hold of it. Marigold found herself surrounded with the rest of the Gryffindor team, as well as Neville and Colin, the latter of the boys basically vibrating with anxiety.

"I'll take it from here," a soft, calming voice said.

Professor Lockhart kneeled down on the other side of Harry and smiled at her. Marigold looked back down at Harry, hoping her hair would hide her pink cheeks.

Harry's eyes fluttered open and went from her to Professor Lockhart.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned, looking to Marigold for support.

Marigold stifled a giggle.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said loudly to the group. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"Absolutely not!" Marigold gasped, looking up. Her rosy cheeks were gone.

"No!" Harry said. "I'll keep it like it is, thanks…"

Harry tried to sit up, but made a pained face. Marigold put a hand on his good shoulder and kept him from moving anymore.

"Lie back, Harry," Professor Lockhart said, putting his own hand on Harry's shoulder. Marigold shot him a dirty look as Harry winced in pain. "It's a simple charm I've used it countless times-"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.

"He really should, Professor," a muddy looking Oliver Wood said. Even though his Seeker was injured, he couldn't help containing his excitement. "Great capture, Harry! Really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say!"

"Stand back," Lockhart said, while rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No don't-" Harry said weakly.

Marigold also protested, but Lockhart was already twirling his wand and a second later had directed it at Harry's arm.

Marigold watched in horror as Harry's arm slowly deflated. It looked like a large, limp piece of pasta and Marigold had to keep herself from gagging. Gasps erupted through the crowd, and several people turned away. Harry turned to Marigold, not daring to look down at his arm. They shared a look.

Harry nodded toward his arm. Is my arm okay?

Marigold grimaced. Well, it's still there, so that's… good.

Well that's just great. Harry rolled his eyes. Can't he do anything right!?

"Ah," Lockhart said. Marigold and Harry turned back to him with angry expressions. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the Hospital wing, and ah, Madam Pomfrey will be able to- er- tidy you up a bit."

Marigold helped Harry to his feet. He looked a little lopsided. Marigold kept him from looking at his arm as she helped him through the pathway Neville and Colin were making through the crowd.

The three of them got to the castle and shook off the rain the best they could. Harry was able to walk, so Marigold let go of his good arm, only to grab him again as he nearly passed out from looking at his flesh-covered, rubber-glove-looking hand.

"I told you not to look," she whispered, grabbing him around the waist.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about curiosity," he said, swallowing what Marigold could only assume was puke.

"Don't you dare throw up on my shoes," she said, not able to keep a small smile off her face. "If you do, I'll give Colin permission to photograph the whole thing."

"That's cold, Marigold," he said, gulping again. "Really cold."

Madam Pomfrey wasn't pleased at all.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what not long ago had been Harry's working arm. Neville turned around and muffled his gagging noise. "I can mend bones in a heartbeat, but growing them back-"

"You will be able to, won't you?" Harry said desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," Madam Pomfrey said grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to spend the night…"

Harry and Neville disappeared behind the curtain. Marigold and Colin stayed outside as Neville helped Harry into the pajamas.

"You can go ahead and head back to the tower, if you want. I'm sure there's a big celebration waiting," Marigold told Colin after hearing his stomach make a very large growl. "We'll meet up with you in a bit."

"Ok, see-yeh, Harry!" Colin said, leaving the Hospital wing, his camera bouncing with each step.

"Thanks, Colin," Harry mumbled from behind the curtain. "Decent."

Marigold and Madam Pomfrey turned round the curtain just in time to see Harry swing himself onto the bed, arm flapping pointlessly. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring a steaming beakerful and handing it to Harry. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

Harry choked down the beaker, coughing and gagging as he went. When he had finished, Madam Pomfrey retreated, muttering under her breath about dangerous sports and inept teachers.

"If it makes you feel any better, Harry," Neville said, helping him gulp down some water. "We won the game."

"That was some catch you made, Harry," Marigold added. "It happened so fast, and Malfoy looked downright murderous when he realized that you had caught it."

"We need to figure out how he fixed that Bludger," Neville said, an uncharacteristically dark look crossing his face.

"I still don't think it's Malfoy," Marigold said. "Why are you so convinced it's him?"

"Look at him Marigold," Neville said, his voice super serious. "He's been there every time something bad has happened."

"That could be a-"

"Coincidence, I know," Harry whispered. Marigold and Neville turned to look at him. "It could be a coincidence," he repeated, "but we need to know for sure. I think we should come up with a list of questions to ask if Malfoy isn't forthcoming and bragging about it."

"I think that's a good idea," Neville said.

"Fine," Marigold said with a sigh. "You two think up questions, I'll figure out how to brew the potion."

The three of them were quiet for a moment, Madam Pomfrey took their silence as a cue and came bustling round the curtain.

"Ok, time to go," Madam Pomfrey said. "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty three bones to regrow."

Marigold and Neville said goodnight, and headed to Gryffindor Tower.

"Lockhart's an idiot," Marigold muttered.

"Poor Harry," Neville agreed.

When they ducked through the portrait hole, there was a party awaiting them. The commotion screeched to a stop when they walked in. All heads turned toward them, awaiting answers no doubt.

"Harry will be fine," Marigold said loudly. Looks of angst changed to looks of relief. "He just has to stay overnight while Madam Pomfrey regrows his bones."

Laughter erupted, and the party continued.

Colin was excitedly taking pictures of everyone. A little ways into the night, Colin made his way over to her and sat down next to her.

"It's a shame Harry's missing this!"

"Oh, he'll be alright," Marigold said tiredly. "He's a good Seeker, he's won games for us before, and he'll do so again. He'll make it to the party next time."

"Think I should go and visit him?"

"I think he'd really appreciate that, Colin." Marigold stifled a yawn. "Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Marigold."

As Marigold crawled into bed, she thought that maybe she would accompany Colin tomorrow. Who knew how late into the morning Harry would be there, and who knew how painful a process regrowing bones would be. He could use the company.

Desperation

Marigold woke up earlier than ever the next morning. She peeked out of her curtains and the sun wasn't even up yet. She rolled over and stared at the top of her four-poster bed, feeling a little uneasy. She pondered the day before, the Quidditch match, and Harry. Could Neville and Harry be right? Could these attacks actually be Malfoy? With a soft moan she got out of bed. Staying here staring at nothing wasn't going to make her feel any better.

Like every morning before, she got dressed and made her way downstairs. It was a long, long time before Neville strolled down the stairs and the two of them went to breakfast. In that time, Marigold's anxiety had already been chewing her up inside. Something wasn't right, and she needed to know what was happening, or she was going to go crazy.

Talking with Neville on the way down to breakfast, Marigold was able to put together that he didn't feel the anxiety she was feeling. The two of them sat down and started to fill their plates. Something told Marigold to look at the head table, and when she did she realized that she wasn't the only one out of sorts.

Professor McGonagall was fervently whispering to Professor Flitwick. Marigold was too far away to hear what was being said. Though, with the excited conversations about the Quidditch win, Marigold was sure she wouldn't have been able to hear them if she was sitting right next to them. Judging by the expressions that passed over Professor Flitwick's face, Marigold was sure it wasn't good news.

A flapping in the air told Marigold that mail had arrived. In the last letter Charlie had sent he had told her he was having a fun time answering Colin's dragon questions, so Marigold anticipated a long letter full of fun answers. So when two letters plopped down right in front of her, she was surprised.

One was from Charlie of course, but Dumbledore had sent her another letter. What could the Headmaster possibly want now? He had just talked to her a week or so ago. Anticipating that it was nothing good, Marigold opened the letter from Dumbledore first.

Lemon Drops

Her stomach dropped to a place no stomach belongs. Marigold stood up from the table. Neville asked where she was going through bites of egg, but Marigold didn't answer. She passed by Harry who was walking into the Great Hall, arm looking fine, but Marigold didn't pause. She barely recognized that Harry looked a little hurt before leaving the room.

Good, so it isn't Harry, she thought. But what could possibly be so urgent to Dumbledore?

At the password, the gargoyle jumped aside. She didn't knock, but barged into Dumbledore's office, breathless and ready for anything.

Dumbledore turned around. He was wearing a pained expression that sent Marigold's thoughts racing.

"Who died?" she asked, her stomach dropping further. She didn't notice, but the letter from Charlie was getting crushed in her fist.

Dumbledore didn't answer her. He just stood there, looking at her with an expression she couldn't read.

"Who, Professor?"

"Nobody has died. Please come sit." Dumbledore gestured to the chair by his desk.

"No." Marigold very nearly stomped her foot, but thought better of it. "I just got a letter from you with nothing but a password. I came all the way over to your office, rushing out on my friend who just got out of the hospital wing. So, with all due respect, Dumbledore, sir, but I want to know why."

She was scared; she was furious; she was apprehensive; she was nervous; she was second-guessing her outburst already, but she didn't move.

Dumbledore crossed over to his desk and sat down. He looked at her differently than ever before. He looked… almost proud?

"I wouldn't have called on you like this if it wasn't important." His voice was quiet, almost saddened. "There's been another attack. A student has been petrified."

Marigold just blinked. "Who?"

"Colin Creevey. I believe he is one of your friends…"

The room went still. A ringing sounded off in Marigold's ears. She could see Dumbledore talking, but she couldn't hear him. There was no sound other than the ringing in her ears. Why? How? Oh god.

"Where did you find him?" Marigold interrupted. The ringing was now static that was blocking out everything but Dumbledore's voice.

"Right outside the Hospital Wing. He had a bowl of grapes with him."

Marigold braced herself on the chair Dumbledore had offered her. She felt like she was going to be sick. "He asked me at the party- the Gryffindor party for winning the Quidditch match- he asked me if I thought Harry would enjoy it if he paid him a visit. I thought he meant today, not sneaking out at night. I never would have, I didn't realize, oh god it's my fault…"

"Did you open the Chamber of Secrets?" Dumbledore asked, gently.

"No?" Marigold said, confused.

"Then this is not your fault."

"What can we do?" Marigold asked, desperation in her voice.

"I told you the last time you were sitting in that chair. Do you remember?"

"Be careful, keep my friends close. Heed the writing on the wall. But there must be something more I can do. Colin is one of my friends. What if whoever is doing this doesn't petrify the next person? What if the next person dies? There has to be a way to protect all the other Muggleborns."

"Those are very reasonable worries, Miss Rosenberg. The last time the Chamber was opened, a student did indeed die."

"The last time? It's been opened before?" Marigold was shocked.

"I was merely a teacher at that time, but yes, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before. It was believed that the culprit was caught at that time, though I never believed he was the person responsible. Now that things are coming back to haunt us, I am even more sure that the culprit is still at large. It's even possible that this is someone new."

"Why are you telling me all this, Professor?"

Dumbledore stared at her for a long moment before taking a seat on his desk and looking at her. "Last year," he said softly, "you, Harry, and Neville took it upon yourselves to go looking into matters far above yourselves. It is true that the three of you saved the Sorcerer's Stone from falling into the wrong hands, but it was done at the risk of your own lives.

"The Chamber of Secrets is a dangerous secret that even I don't have answers to. It is my understanding that your friend, Harry, will want to look into this secret for himself."

"That's a fair assumption," Marigold mumbled.

Dumbledore just smiled at her. "I am telling you what I know of the situation in a hope that you will recognize the severity of what is going on. The last time the chamber opened, someone died," he repeated.

"I understand," she whispered.

"Miss Rosenberg, it is imperative that you make sure Harry stays as far away from the situation as possible. I know he is a curious boy, but please do what you can to keep him safe from all of this."

Marigold pushed the thoughts of their current plans far away, tucked away in the back of her mind and nodded. "I'll do what I can."

Marigold wandered around the castle for a long time, completely and utterly lost in thought. She ultimately found herself in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey didn't seem amused, but allowed Marigold to sit down next to Colin. His camera was gone, but his hands were in front of his face as if he had been taking a picture when it happened.

Marigold wondered if her stomach would ever go back to normal. She looked down at her hands and saw the crumpled letter from Charlie. She opened it and, fighting back tears, saw all the wonderful answers to Colin's dragon questions.

Even though she knew he couldn't hear her, Marigold spent a lot of time reading Charlie's answers to Colin. She supposed she was doing this more for herself, but she couldn't help it. He looked so tiny all wrapped up in the hospital blanket. How long was he going to be petrified? The mandrakes weren't ready yet!

When she was done reading she stayed until she couldn't stand the silence anymore. Wiping her tears, she left the Hospital Wing.

She wandered the castle some more and found herself in the corridor where everything started. The writing was still there. It was faded and dried, but still there. Choking back more tears, Marigold thought back to that night. She poked around, not really looking for anything in particular.

She found scorch marks on the floor, but stranger, at the topmost pane of the window, she saw a dozen or so small spiders scuttling, trying to get through a small crack. A long silvery thread dangled like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in a hurry to leave the castle.

Marigold froze, transfixed as the spiders kept fighting to escape. She jumped at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Worried of being caught by Filch, Marigold rushed over to a door with an out of order sign and quickly hid behind it. The footsteps slowly disappeared. It wasn't Filch then.

Marigold turned around and sunk to the floor, bracing herself against the door. With her knees pulled up against her chest, Marigold hung her head with a long-winded sigh. It was a long moment until she heard whimpering in the room. She looked up into the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom she had ever seen.

Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders. The wooden doors of the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Marigold got to her feet and followed the hiccoughing moans to the end stall, the one with the door off its hinges. Behind the door, she found the ghost she had met at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party.

"Hello, Myrtle," Marigold said awkwardly.

Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin. She looked at Marigold apathetically.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was looking at the writing on the wall out there." Marigold gestured toward the bathroom door. "Did you see anything that night? After the party?"

"I wasn't paying attention," Myrtle said. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm- that I'm-"

"I'm sorry, Myrtle," Marigold said, a little awkwardly.

Myrtle just let out a loud wail in response. Marigold left the bathroom in a hurry.

She found Neville and Harry in the nearly empty common room. They jumped up when she entered the room, worried looks on their faces.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked.

"I was visiting Colin," Marigold said, taking a seat. "How's your arm, Harry? I'm sorry I didn't ask this morning."

"It's fine, bones exist and everything," Harry said sarcastically.

Neither of the boys asked how she knew about Colin, and she didn't ask how they did.

"Tell her, Harry," Neville said, sitting down next to her.

"Tell me what?" Marigold asked.

"Dobby woke me up last night in the Hospital Wing." Harry started pacing. "He was the one who kept me and Ron from going through the barrier and made us miss the train. He was also behind the Bludger. But that's not all, apparently the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before!"

Marigold feigned surprise. She had lied to Dumbledore about doing her best to keep Harry out of this. She knew she would never be able to do that. But she could keep him safe. At the very least, she could keep him safe.

"Dobby seems to think I'm in danger from whatever is in the Chamber of Secrets. If anyone is in danger it's you, Marigold, but Dobby was insistent that I go home. Dobby disappeared before I could get any more information, because Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came in with Colin Creevey. They thought that maybe he had taken a picture of whatever attacked him but his film had melted."

"What can melt film?" Neville asked.

"I'm sure there are a lot of spells that can melt film…" Marigold trailed off, thinking. "I went back to the writing on the wall."

"Why?" Harry asked. He had stopped pacing.

"I wanted to see if I could find anything."

"And?" Neville prompted.

"Scorch marks, spiders acting really strange, and an out of order bathroom with a wailing ghost. Nobody goes up there anymore anyway, and with an out of order sign, I think this bathroom would be the perfect place to brew the Polyjuice Potion."

"Marigold, that's perfect!"

"That just leaves getting the ingredients, figuring out who to turn into, keeping them out of the way, and you know, actually brewing the potion for a month."

"You know, now that we know the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before, Malfoy makes sense as the heir," Harry said. "His dad could have opened it while he was in school. I wish Dobby had told me more though, like what we are up against."

By the time Marigold woke up Monday morning, news of Colin Creevey's attack and subsequent petrification had spread through the entire school. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as if they were scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ginny was worse than Marigold, and Fred and George weren't helping. They had tried cheering her up by taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to mum and tell her Ginny was having nightmares. Marigold was glad something was going to be done in regards to Ginny.

Marigold was a mess for the first week after Colin had been petrified, but she was doing better than when Charlie hadn't written her back. She felt a little guilty about that.

In between classes and whenever teachers weren't nearby, a roaring trade of talismans, amulets, and other protective devices broke out amongst the students. Marigold nearly smacked Neville upside the head on Wednesday when he bought a large evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail.

"Why did you get all that nonsense, Nev?" Marigold asked in exasperation, covering her mouth and nose with her cloak.

"They went for Filch first," Neville mumbled. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

"You knock that off, Neville," Harry said. "You are a wonderful wizard and don't listen to anyone who says otherwise.

"But I-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Neville Longbottom," Marigold warned.

"Well, do you want them then?" he asked, sheepishly.

"Nev, I doubt these things have any actual magical properties that could protect me from whatever is loose in the castle." Neville hung his head. Marigold, understanding where he was coming from sighed. "The purple crystal is pretty though," she added.

Face slightly red, he handed it over and she tucked it away in her robes.

In the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came round one night at dinner collecting the names of students wanting to stay at school for the holidays. Marigold, Harry, and Neville signed the list, having heard that Malfoy was going to be staying, which struck Neville and Harry as suspicious.

Harry was under the impression that the holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him. Harry was right of course, but they had hit a snag. Marigold and the boys had gotten as much of the Polyjuice Potion done as they could with the ingredients they had on hand, but unfortunately the potion was only half done. They still needed the more restricted ingredients, which they knew would be in only one place... Snape's private stores.

Marigold knew that she had only one option for grabbing the necessary ingredients from Snape's storeroom. She would have to go at night, late at night when Snape was asleep, and she would have to use Harry's invisibility cloak. She wasn't particularly fond of the idea, especially after telling Dumbledore she would stay out of it, but she didn't have any other option.

Harry was also pressuring her to get a move on with the potion so they could use it over the holidays. Luckily that meant he didn't argue when she asked for his cloak, though he did take convincing to stay in bed and not go with her.

"Harry, for some reason Snape likes me. If I get caught he's not going to have me expelled. But if you go with me, you absolutely will."

"Fine," he said, obviously upset, "just don't get caught."

Marigold ultimately decided that three in the morning would be the best time to break into Snape's office. Even if he stayed up late grading homework, there was no way that he would still be doing so at three in the morning.

She had a simple enough plan. She would sneak out of Gryffindor tower hidden under Harry's cloak, make her way to the dungeons, break into Snape's office, steal the potion ingredients, and make it back to her bed all without getting caught. She just really hoped Snape didn't sleep in his office.

After saying goodnight to Harry and Neville, and discreetly stuffing the cloak under her robes, Marigold climbed up to her dorm and got ready for bed as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening

Harry's invisibility cloak wasn't the only tool she had at her disposal. After a quick shower and detangling her hair, Marigold rummaged around in her trunk for a few minutes before finding what she was looking for. The small simple box wasn't damaged at all, which was surprising because it had been crammed in the bottom of her trunk under several books and pairs of socks for who knew how long.

She opened the box and found a small card and an old black candle. She opened the note with the all too familiar handwriting and read it again.

The light shines only for you,

Never faltering, never diming, never running out.

May it help in your endeavors,

or guide you in dark times.

Happy Christmas to you

Trading the card for the candle, Marigold had a newfound determination, certain that her adventure tonight would go off without a hitch. Marigold crawled into bed and stashed the candle and the Invisibility cloak under her pillow next to her wand.

Marigold listened as her roommates got ready for bed. She heard Fae and Lavender whispering to each other in between fits of giggles. Marigold could just make out the scratching of a quill on parchment which meant that Parvati was writing another letter to her mom. Eventually, things started to quiet down. Marigold didn't hear Hermione sneaking in until Lavender had already started snoring. She winced as Hermione dragged her brush through her hair and was relieved when she too started snoring.

Marigold was too anxious to fall asleep. She kept thinking what she was about to do, going over it again and again until her head hurt. She wasn't as scared as she was when she had laid in bed anticipating going through the trap door to save the Stone… This was a different kind of fear. What was she going to do if Snape was in his office? What would she do if she got caught? They needed these ingredients, she knew that, but knowing she was risking so much for a good reason didn't exactly keep her from freaking out.

Marigold spent the next couple hours entertaining her thoughts. She thought a lot about Colin. He was going to miss so much school because of this… what if he fell behind? What if they had repotted the Mandrake's wrong? What if the potion didn't work and he stayed petrified forever? She knew she was being silly.

Of course Colin would be fine… eventually… But she couldn't keep herself from worrying. One worry led to another and Marigold found herself thinking about Malfoy.

The odds of Malfoy being the Heir of Slytherin were so low that she was basically just humoring Neville and Harry at this point. Sure, Malfoy being a prat was the only lead they had, but in the time it was taking them to brew this potion one student had already been attacked. If she was right, and Malfoy wasn't the heir, then they would be back to square one. Except this time, Mrs. Norris wasn't the only one they had to worry about.

Besides, it was only a matter of time before another person was attacked. What were they going to do when Malfoy proved to be a dead end? There weren't any other leads! Something wasn't magically going to pop up and lead them to whoever was attacking Muggleborns. Not only that, but she had promised Dumbledore she would keep Harry away from all this… She didn't like the fact that she was lying to the man who was providing her with an education.

Marigold spent a couple hours feeling guilty about everything, it was three in the morning before she knew it. Moving quietly, Marigold slipped out of bed. She stuffed her wand into the waistband of her pajamas, slung her emptied out book bag over her shoulder, and slipped the cloak over her. She didn't light the candle until she was on the other side of the portrait hole.

The corridors were lit only by the light of her candle, and the normal hum of magic was just a whisper. As she passed by the paintings on the walls, none of the occupants stirred. Holding her breath, Marigold walked up to a painting of a woman sleeping on a hammock. She held the candle as close as she could without setting the canvas on fire. The woman didn't wake up, it was like the light wasn't even there. Marigold finally came to terms with the fact that she really was the only one who could see the light coming from the candle.

Feeling a little better about not getting caught, Marigold went on her way. As she tiptoed closer and closer to the dungeons, the air got colder and colder. It was strange for the corridors to be so empty. There were always other students, or at least sunlight… but her quiet footsteps were the only sound.

Harry and Ron had been marched to Snape's office the first day of school, and for once Marigold was glad Harry had gotten into trouble. Otherwise, she wouldn't have had any clue where to find it. Harry had gone into as much detail as possible, so Marigold didn't have the slightest bit of trouble in finding the door.

With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle. It was locked. Of course it was locked. Marigold had to stifle a nervous giggle. She tried a couple different unlocking spells before hearing a click. Her hand was shaking as she slowly pushed the door open. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the room was empty.

Marigold stepped into the office and was surprised to see how normal it looked. There was a glass cupboard up against the wall, and Snape's desk was right next to it so that a little alcove was created. The other walls had bookshelves with tons of books and other knick knacks neatly organized. There was a dark fireplace, which was unfortunate because the room was so cold that she could see her breath.

She shook her head. She wasn't here to ogle at how normal Snape's office was. She slowly made her way over to the cupboard. She felt a little trapped with the desk and the wall closing her off. If Snape came in and went to his desk, there would be no way to get back out. She opened the glass doors and started looking through the ingredients.

There were so many ingredients to look through! The cupboard had several shelves and she had to stand on her tiptoes to see the top. After maybe ten minutes of looking and stuffing things into her book bag, Marigold closed the glass doors and turned to leave. She made it about two steps before pausing and looking at Snape's paper covered desk.

Pushing back the thought that this was a major breach of personal space and letting curiosity get the better of her, Marigold opened the top drawer to the desk. She found several inkwells and a rather nice collection of quills, but nothing really interesting. She looked up at the door, figuring she should probably get going, but the second drawer was calling to her.

Marigold didn't find anything particularly interesting. One of the drawers had a couple objects that were very obviously confiscated from students, but Marigold wasn't looking for fireworks or love notes. She was sure the last and largest drawer would probably have more boring supplies in it, but she opened it anyway.

Lying face down in the bottom drawer was a picture frame. What could Snape possibly have a picture of? It's not like he had friends. Marigold tentatively picked up the frame and turned it over.

Staring back at her was the most beautiful girl Marigold had ever seen. The candid photo only intensified how pretty she was. She must have been in her last year at Hogwarts, because she looked about seventeen or eighteen. She was sitting outside somewhere Marigold didn't recognize and laughing at someone out of the shot. Her hair was a stunning orangey-red that just kissed her shoulders. Wind was made to flow through hair like that. Her bright green eyes were crinkled with her smile. For some reason the photo wasn't moving.

Marigold didn't have time to worry about why the photo was still like a Muggle photo, because Marigold knew who the girl was.

She didn't know her, but she knew her.

Marigold had been compared to her several times. Seeing an actual picture of her, Marigold was finally able to understand why. Though Marigold wasn't nearly as beautiful, the similarities were uncanny. Their eyes were the same, their hair was the same shade of red, even their faces had the same shape.

This was Harry's mother.

Marigold looked more like Harry's mum than she did her own mother…

Marigold carefully put the photo back in the drawer and quickly left the office, locking the door behind her. Why would Snape have a photo of Harry's mom?

That question lasted her all the way back to her dormitory and into her bed where she fell asleep wondering.

The next morning, Harry, Neville, and Marigold headed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and added the stolen ingredients to the potion. She didn't tell either of them about the photo she had found in Snape's desk. She felt like that wouldn't be a wise idea. She did, however, let them know that the potion would be ready to use in two weeks.

The next few days went by much too quickly. The professors were trying to get as much teaching in as they could before the holidays, so the three of them were insanely busy. Luckily, Snape didn't seem to have noticed that his supply closet had been raided, or that his desk had messed with.

Thursday morning, Marigold and the boys were exiting the Great Hall from breakfast when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Dean got her attention and waved them over.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" Seamus said excitedly. "The first meeting is tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons. They might come in handy one of these days…"

"Should we go?" Neville asked.

Harry was super excited, and Marigold was looking forward to applying her dueling knowledge to a practical application. So at eight o'clock that night, the three of them hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black, and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" Hermione said excitedly. She and Ron were standing with Marigold, Harry, and Neville. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young..."

"As long as it's not-" but Ron cut himself off with a groan.

Professor Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry, you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear."

"Wouldn't it be great if they finished each other off?" Marigold heard Ron mutter.

Snape's upper lip was curling. Marigold wondered why Lockhart was still smiling. If Snape had been looking at her that way she would be running far away so quickly.

Marigold knew how dueling worked from the books Dumbledore had given her, but to see it happen was amazing. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, which much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured.

Marigold agreed. Snape looked super angry.

"Three- two- one"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent.

Snape cried, "Expelliarmus!" and there was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it sprawled out on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" Harry and Ron answered.

Neville and Marigold laughed.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm. As you can see, I've lost my wand- ah, thank you, Miss Brown- yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was all very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy- however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Snape was looking downright murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville and Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Ron with Hermione. Before Lockhart could pair Harry and Marigold together, Snape interjected with a sneer.

"As interesting as this would be," Snape said, looking between the two of them. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you," Snape turned toward Marigold, "Miss Rosenberg, you can partner with Miss Parkinson."

Malfoy strutted over, smirking at Harry. Pansy Parkinson, the annoying girl who had been fawning over Malfoy all year, trailed behind him, glowering at Marigold.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called, back on the platform, "and bow."

Marigold bowed to Pansy, who only inclined her head slightly. Neither girl was particularly fond of the other, and it showed.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents- only to disarm them- we don't want any accidents. One… two… three-"

Marigold took a deep breath and everything happened at once, and she was a part of it, she could feel the room, the incantations flying around her.

"Expelliarmus!" Pansy hissed. A scarlet light burst from her wand.

Marigold made a slashing motion with her wand, and thought hard about the right spell Protego. The scarlet light dissipated in front of her. Marigold was aware that Ron's wand had already flown out of his hand having been excellently disarmed by Hermione, but none of that mattered. Pansy was advancing, anger flashed across her face as she tried to disarm Marigold again.

Backing away, and shielding herself again, Marigold was aware that Lockhart was screaming at Harry and Malfoy, and Malfoy was laughing hysterically. But the scarlet light shot at Marigold again and again.

Marigold deflected, and with a disarming charm of her own, Pansy's wand flew out of her hand.

With a wild yell, Pansy charged at her, ignoring her wand as it rolled across the floor. Alarmed, Marigold put up her arms to defend her face. There was a lot of hair pulling, and tousling.

Eventually Marigold felt arms pulling her away. A small chunk of Pansy's hair came with her. Pansy managed to rip her robe sleeve as Malfoy pulled her away.

Neville helped Marigold up, and she tucked the hair discreetly in her pocket.

A greenish haze of smoke was hovering over the scene and Pansy was looking disheveled and downright murderous.

"Dear, dear," Lockhart said, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. It seemed Hermione and Marigold were some of the few who hadn't gotten hurt in some fashion. "Up you go, Macmillan… careful there, Miss Fawcett, pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second…

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," he said, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glistened and looked away quickly. "Let's have a volunteer pair-"

"How about Malfoy and Potter?" Snape interjected with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" Lockhart said, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

Lockhart raised his wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Marigold was pretty sure that he had made that complex maneuver up on the spot.

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked too. Marigold really hoped Harry remembered what she had taught him last year when Malfoy had challenged Harry to a duel, but judging by the duel he had just had, she doubted it. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" Malfoy muttered.

When Pansy giggled from the other side of the clearing, Marigold fought the urge to throw up a little.

"You wish," Harry said out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

Marigold chuckled but Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three- two- one- go!"

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded and a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily on the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. Screams echoed around the hall and the crowd backed swiftly away, Justin Finch-Fletchley bumped into her without noticing.

"Don't move, Potter," Snape said, lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it…"

"Allow me!" Lockhart shouted.

He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang. The snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Right in front of her and Justin! Enraged, hissing furiously, the snake raised itself up again, fangs exposed, and poised to strike Justin.

Without thinking Marigold moved in front of Justin, but paused part in front of him and part to the side, when a loud hissing sound filled the room. The hiss got louder, like a shout, and the snake crumpled to the floor, docile. Confused, Marigold looked up and saw Harry grinning at her and Justin.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted, looking between Harry and Marigold. Before anyone could say anything, Justin shoved Marigold away and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape was looking at Harry with a shrewd and calculating look. Marigold, noticing the anxious whispers, quickly rushed toward Harry and grabbed him by the sleeve. Making sure Neville was behind them, she pulled him out of the Great Hall.

As they passed through the crowd, the people on either side of them drew away frightened. Harry was confused and protested, but Marigold shushed him, and pulled him all the way back to the common room.

Marigold pushed him into a chair. "What was that?" she demanded.

"What was what?" Harry asked, still confused.

"You're a Parselmouth." Neville said.

"A what?" Marigold and Harry asked, turning to Neville.

"A Parselmouth!" Neville said, like that clarified it any more. "You can talk to snakes."

"I know," Harry said.

Marigold turned back to Harry with a bewildered look on her face.

"I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once- long story- but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a wizard-"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Marigold repeated weakly, sitting down.

"So?" Harry said defensively. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"No… they can't." Neville said. "It's not a common gift, Harry. This is bad."

"What's bad?" Harry said angrily. "What is wrong with you guys? If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin and Mar-"

"Oh, that's what you said?"

"What do you mean? You were there! You heard me!"

"I was standing right next to Justin, Harry," Marigold said. "I heard loud hissing and that's it."

"You could have been saying anything," Neville said. "It's no wonder Justin sounded panicked… you sounded like you were egging it on or something… it was really creepy"

Harry just gaped at the two of them.

"I was speaking a different language? But I didn't realize- How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Marigold knew this was bad by Neville's expression, but she was just as confused as Harry was.

"Would you just tell me what's so bad about stopping a massive snake from biting Justin's head off?" Harry asked. " What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters because Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes, Harry," Neville said quietly. "That's why the Slytherin crest is a serpent."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"Oh," Marigold said, putting it all together. "If the school wasn't convinced already that Harry was the heir of Slytherin, they will be now."

"Exactly," Neville said, nodding his head.

"But I'm not," Harry said in a panic.

"I think that would be hard to prove Harry," Marigold sighed. "I know you didn't open the Chamber of Secrets, but Salazar Slytherin lived thousands of years ago, it's entirely possible that you could in fact be his heir."

Neville and Harry went up to bed when students started coming into the common room and giving the three of them a wide berth.

Marigold decided that she might as well go up to bed herself. She tucked the hair she grabbed from Pansy in a small vile in her trunk. Now all that was left for the Polyjuice Potion was a bit of whomever Neville and Harry were going to turn into.

It wasn't long before her dorm mates joined her. None of the girls talked to her when they crawled into their beds. Fae Dunbar gave her a look of disgust, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for Fae.

Marigold closed her curtains and stared at nothing for hours. Tossing and turning, she couldn't get the day's events out of her head. She finally fell asleep in the early morning.

Marigold saw herself sitting next to the lake. Harry's mum was sitting beside her. There was snow over the grounds of Hogwarts. Snowflakes danced around the two redheads. Marigold was older, the same age as Harry's mum. She looked like she did when she saw herself in the Mirror of Erised last year.

Loud laughter got their attention and Marigold watched as she and Lily turned toward the noise.

A group of Slytherin students were cavorting across the grounds, loud laughter that sounded familiar yet different reached her ears. As the group got closer she recognized the students. Draco Malfoy, the way Marigold imagined he would look as a seventh year, was laughing with another student who looked greasy and gross. Marigold realized it was Snape as a young student. He wasn't laughing, but a smile crinkled his hooked nose.

They were talking, and Marigold, standing behind herself and Harry's mom, couldn't tell what they were saying until they got closer.

"Can you believe those two Mudbloods?" Malfoy laughed, stopping in front of Marigold and Harry's mom. "How bold of them to think they belong here."

Snape sneered.

"What do you say?" Malfoy asked someone behind him, drawing his wand. "Should we show them their place?"

A loud hissing noise answered him.

Malfoy turned to a boy, well a teenager, with floppy black hair, round glasses, and bright green eyes. Marigold saw him raise his wand at the three of them, and let out a loud hiss.

"Harry, no!" Lily screamed.

Marigold woke up in a panic. Covered in sweat and breathing heavily, she rolled over, and, through a small gap in her curtains, she saw snow falling outside. She tried to remember what she had just dreamt about, but it was already fading away, leaving her with an uneasy feeling, and an odd sense of despair.

Holiday Horrors

Marigold woke up the next morning and got ready for Herbology. The snow she had watched fall last night had turned into an all out blizzard and Herbology was canceled for the rest of the term.

Marigold and Neville were sitting lazily on the couch next to the fire, enjoying the morning off and watched as Harry paced back and forth. He was huffing and puffing and driving Marigold nuts.

"Just go talk to him, Harry," she finally said, unable to stand his grumbling anymore.

Harry didn't say anything, but left through the portrait hole. Marigold rested her back on the couch arm and stretched her legs out. They nearly reached Neville's legs.

"This isn't good, Nev. I'm worried about Harry."

Neville pulled his knees as close to his body as he could. "I'm worried about both of you."

"Why are you worried about me?" Neville just looked at her like she was an idiot. "Oh, right, that."

"Yeah, that."

Marigold hung her head back over the couch arm and groaned. She'd been avoiding thinking about the actual repercussions that were out there for her. She kept putting herself in danger. With Harry and Neville and their quest for answers, with wandering around the castle at night alone with a monster on the loose, with jumping in front of that snake yesterday…

"You might be the best duelist in the school- yeah, I saw you and Pansy- but you aren't invincible, Marigold."

"I know." Marigold sighed and looked up at Neville. "What would you want me to do though, I can't exactly hole myself up here in the dormitories for the rest of the year."

"Couldn't you though?"

"Come on, Nev," Marigold groaned.

"I know, I know." Neville's round face looked scared. He looked at her a long moment then turned back to the fire. "I'm just worried."

"We need to find out whoever is behind all these attacks. I still don't think it's Malfoy, but once the potion is ready we'll know for sure."

"Marigold, do you think-"

But Neville was cut off then the portrait hole burst open and several students fell into the common room. Marigold sat up with a start.

"He did it! He actually did it!" someone was saying.

"Harry attacked Justin!" someone shouted.

"He what?" Marigold jumped up. "That's impossible! It's not even him!"

"We were in class when Peeves started screaming," George said, pushing through the crowd with Fred. The two of them exchanged glances. "That's not all, Justin was petrified sure-"

"But Nearly Headless Nick is the thing," Fred interrupted.

"What about Nearly Headless Nick?" Neville asked, eyes were wide and unblinking.

"He was just floating there, black and smoky," Fred said.

"It was so weird," George agreed, looking freaked out.

"What about Harry?" Marigold asked. Her heart was racing. They still hadn't said anything about Harry.

"Professor McGonagall took him from the scene. Not sure where."

Marigold had to fight the urge to run to Dumbledore, knowing that his office was probably where McGonagall had taken Harry. She knew Dumbledore wasn't going to expel him either, but even though she knew this, she had to physically march herself back to the couch and sit down. Her movement was jerky and unnatural, like her heart was fighting with her brain and her body was caught in the middle.

Neville sat back down next to her, and the two of them sat in silence as the common room swirled around them. Marigold rested her head on his shoulder and stared at nothing. The anxious yelling turned to anxious whispers amongst the students, then into chilling silence, and still Harry wasn't back.

The common room cleared out as students made their way to lunch. Marigold didn't move, neither did Neville. The two of them just continued to sit there until the portrait hole opened and Harry crawled through.

Marigold and Neville jumped up. Harry looked surprised to see them, but his surprise was met with Marigold's hair in his face as she gave him a hug.

"You weren't expelled were you?" Neville asked.

"No, Dumbledore didn't think it was me. He just wanted to talk."

"Oh," Neville said.

"We heard what happened from Fred and George," Marigold said, finally letting go of Harry.

"You were right, Neville. I went looking for Justin and found his friends talking in the library. They were talking about me. They're all convinced I'm the heir, and they also think I'm a dark wizard since I defeated Voldemort as a baby…"

"How is that even related?" Marigold asked.

"I don't know, but they all seemed really scared when I asked them where Justin was… and on the way back from Dumbledore's office, everyone ran away from me…"

"Well, we won't go anywhere," Marigold said firmly.

"Right, we're with you, Harry," Neville agreed. "We'll figure this out."

Everyone was more concerned about the fate of Nearly Headless Nick than that of Justin, and the panic in the halls increased every day. Eventually it culminated in most of the students deciding to go home for the holiday, and they raced to their heads of house to change their signature. There had been a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express.

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays and when Malfoy didn't change his mind about going home they didn't either. But they were some of the only Slytherin's to do so. Harry was happy about everyone deciding to leave. He was getting really tired of everyone skirting around him in the corridors, as though he were going to attack them. Marigold could understand how all their muttering, pointing, and hissing could get annoying.

Marigold actually had a Ravenclaw girl come up to her and ask her why she was continuing to be friends with Harry, and if she was scared. Marigold just laughed at the girl and told her she wasn't scared because Harry wasn't the one attacking people. The Ravenclaw girl didn't seem convinced, and told her if she were a Muggleborn, she would stay far, far away from Harry.

Marigold didn't tell Harry about that encounter.

Fred and George were doing their best to cheer Harry up, finding the entire situation hilariously ridiculous. The two of them went out of their way to march ahead of Harry, Marigold, and Neville, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, his next victim, and his accomplice! Seriously evil wizard coming through! Better get out of his way!"

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

"It's not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," Fred said. "Harry's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's got to take Marigold here down to the Chamber of Secrets for a sacrifice!" George said, chortling.

Ginny, looking worse than ever, didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry why he hadn't attacked his best friend yet, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

Marigold was conflicted, she was happy the two of them were doing all this for Harry. Making the whole thing seem like a ludicrous joke seemed to put Harry at ease. Marigold assumed it was because their antics reassured him that at least they were on his side. On the other hand, Ginny seemed worse by the day, and she really wished Ginny would get better

At long last, the term ended. Once the hustle and bustle of the students going home faded away, a silence as deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. It was beautiful. Marigold, Harry, and Neville were joined in the Gryffindor tower only by the Weasleys.

It was wonderful. The only thing that could make it better was if the rest of the Weasleys could be there. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had decided to go visit Bill in Egypt and Charlie had work, and it wasn't like they could come to Hogwarts for the Holidays. Marigold and the others had been invited to Egypt, of course, but all had decided to stay, for one reason or another. Percy didn't spend much time in the common room, being very disapproving of what he termed their childish behavior.

Being the only ones in the common room, they could play Exploding Snap as loudly as they wanted without bothering anyone. The common room was warm and fun, everyone was doing their best to ignore what was going on in the rest of the castle, and it was working.

Marigold woke up Christmas morning and made her way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, enjoying the chill in the castle. She added the last bit of lacewing flies and at long last, the potion was ready! She wished Myrtle a happy Christmas and was met with crying, but she didn't let that discourage her.

Racing back to her dormitory, she grabbed her presents from her trunk. She had had Mrs. Weasley purchase them for her and mail them to her. She passed Ron on the way up to the boy's dormitory and chucked his present at him. She barged into the room waking up Neville and Harry in the process.

"Get up you guys, it's Christmas!" she yelled, jumping up onto Neville's bed jostling him awake. "I've been up for what seems like forever. The potion is finally ready!"

Harry, who had been groggy moments before, shot up in bed.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive, we can use it tonight. But never mind that, I have presents."

At that, Neville shot up in bed. Marigold and Harry laughed.

"You first, Nev," Marigold said, handing him his gift.

Neville tore through the molten gold paper and uncovered a rather large pot.

"It's for Dora. It's a self watering pot. When you transfer her into it, it will automatically figure out what species of plant she is and will water her accordingly," Marigold explained.

Neville turned over the pot, it had pretty green, blue, and purple moving swirls that kept changing patterns.

"This is amazing, Marigold!" Neville got out of bed, detangled his spotted pajamas, and went over to the Tiger Lily and began transferring her to her new home.

"Okay, your turn, Harry!" Marigold gently tossed him his gift.

Harry ripped off the wrapping paper and found a book inside.

"It's a self organizing notebook," Marigold said, blushing. "It automatically checks your spelling and grammar and makes your handwriting legible. I know you're still having trouble with quills and smudging, so I figured this would help."

"Marigold, it's perfect!"

"Alright, Harry, here's mine." Neville said, wiping his hands on his pajamas and sitting back down on his bed. He tossed Harry a present wrapped in bright blue paper. Neville's hands still had a little dirt on them, and when Harry caught the present, it had fingerprints on it.

"A broomstick servicing kit?" Harry asked, pulling out the box.

"Yeah, it has everything you could need for taking care of your broom."

"Wow, a compass too?" Harry said, examining everything.

"Yeah! It hooks onto the front of your broom!"

"Cool!"

Neville handed Marigold her present next. It was wrapped with flowery paper. It was a book about magical flowers and their properties, and how Muggles had happened upon them and made legends about them. Marigold loved it.

Neville was next; getting a game for the Gameboy Harry had gotten him for his birthday. He still hadn't had a chance to play on it since he had no way to charge it, and Hogwarts castle kept interfering with the circuits.

Harry tossed Marigold her present last, then they all opened gifts from everyone else. Harry had gotten her a new school bag; it had a small dragon pin on the strap. Marigold was ecstatic since her old bag had been slowly falling apart all year.

Mrs. Weasley had sent Harry, Marigold, and Neville new hand-knitted sweaters and cakes. And while Harry and Neville talked about and tinkered with their gifts, Marigold opened a letter from Charlie; inside she found tons of pictures of dragons. Excited, she leafed through them, dragons of all kinds were at the reserve where Charlie worked. Seeing all of them, and watching the way they moved in the pictures was amazing.

There was also a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper and tied together with twine. Inside, she found several dragon scales overlapping one another making an intricately chained bracelet. It was a little jankey because the scales were from different dragons, but it fit her perfectly. It was evident that Charlie had made it.

Marigold wondered how she had become the dragon girl. Every holiday people gave her dragon related gifts. She loved it.

They spent the rest of the day lounging around and playing games with Fred and George in the common room. Ginny joined in for a while, but most of the time she rested. Fred and George were convinced that she was just suffering from First Year Fever, something they said a lot of students got.

Marigold could tell that Harry and Neville were just as nervous as she was about taking the Polyjuice Potion later that night. But not even their dread could take away from the sheer magic of a Christmas feast at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. There were a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling. Marigold was doing her best to avoid those patches after she and Neville caught two fifth years snogging in a corner before Professor Flitwick came rushing over to tear them apart. Enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. The snow clung to the students momentarily before melting away to nothing.

Dumbledore led them all in a few of his carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Dumbledore looked younger than the last time Marigold had seen him. Fred had bewitched Percy's prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," and Percy couldn't figure out what everyone was giggling about.

Marigold almost felt guilty about ushering Neville and Harry out of the hall. Almost… she would probably feel guiltily if this whole thing had been her idea in the first place.

"We still need a bit of who the two of you are changing into," Marigold whispered. "It would be best if you can get something off Crabbe and Goyle; they're his best friends so he'll tell them anything. We also need to make sure they don't walk in while we are talking to Malfoy.

"I got it all figured out." Marigold handed the two of them small frosted cookies. "I made a sleeping drought this morning, while working on the Polyjuice Potion, and filled these up. You just need to get them to eat them and once they are asleep hide them in a broom closet and steal their hair."

"Their hair," Neville repeated dumbly.

"I mean, you could also take their toenails if you prefer," Marigold teased.

"Who are you changing into then?" Harry asked, ignoring Neville's gagging.

Marigold frowned. "Pansy Parkinson. I ripped out a chunk of her hair when we were dueling. She went home for the holidays, so I'll just have to tell Malfoy I decided to stay."

"Uh, Marigold, Pansy fawns all over Malfoy…" Neville said.

"Don't remind me, I've been trying to ignore her all year in potions. If I have to hear Oh, Malfoy, I copied my notes for you. Oh, Malfoy, you're so great at Quidditch. Oh, Malfoy, I wish I could stay for Christmas and snog you under some mistletoe. I think I'll puke," Marigold deadpanned.

"If I have to hear you do that again, I think I'll puke," Harry said.

"That's fair," Marigold agreed. "I have a couple things I have to do. Meet me in the bathroom when you've got the hair."

About twenty minutes later, all three of them were staring into the thick, dark, bubbling, mud-like potion. The boys had pulled off the plan flawlessly. They even grabbed Crabbe and Goyle's shoes. Marigold had gone to grab them some larger robes, which she handed over to the two of them.

"Get changed, once you are Crabbe and Goyle, you won't fit into your robes," she said, handing over the clothes.

All three of them changed into their new robes. Pansy Parkinson was considerably bigger than Marigold too, but that was just because Marigold was small. Pansy might be pug faced, but she wasn't nearly as large as Crabbe or Goyle.

"Now what?" Neville asked. His new robes weren't that much bigger on him, but Harry was swimming in his.

"We separate the potion into three glasses, add the hair, and drink."

Marigold ladled the potion into the three glasses. It kind of slopped in. Uncorking her vile of hair, she dumped it into the glass. The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly as the hair sank into the potion. A second later, it had turned a rather putrid pea soup green.

Following her lead, Harry dropped Goyle's hair into his glass, and Neville put Crabbe's into his. Their glasses hissed and frothed. Harry's glass looked like a booger, and Neville's a dark, sludgy brown.

"On the count of three then?" Marigold asked.

"Right," Harry agreed. Neville just nodded.

"Okay… one- two-three-"

Marigold and the boys downed as much of the potion as they could in one gulp. Marigold gagged, it tasted like boiled, overcooked cabbage. Neville very nearly puked, and, gulping down the last of his potion, made a mad dash to one of the toilets where Marigold and Harry could hear him heaving. Marigold downed hers, dropped the glass, and ran to her own stall.

Her body started shaking and she doubled over in pain. Then, suddenly, a burning sensation spread rapidly from her stomach to the very ends of her fingers and toes. That burning sensation turned into her insides melting, she watched as her hands and arms bubbled like the potion had moments before. Her hair felt like it was growing at least two inches in the span of seconds. It was not a good feeling.

And then suddenly, it was over. Marigold opened her stall and walked out. Harry was face down on the cold floor, except he wasn't Harry anymore. Marigold, as Pansy, helped Harry, who now looked like Goyle, up off the floor. Astonished, Harry pulled off his glasses.

"Weird," Harry said with Goyle's low raspy voice.

"You ok, Neville?" Marigold asked with Pansy's whiney voice.

"Yeah," Neville said, opening his stall. Crabbe walked out.

The three of them stood a moment and then raced for the mirror. Sure enough, Pansy Parkinson was staring back at her. She moved her hair around, and Pansy moved her hair in the mirror.

"Ok, ok, ok," Marigold said, looking away from the mirror. "We have to get going, we only have fifty eight minutes to go to the Slytherin common room, talk to Malfoy, and make it back here."

The three of them made their way to the dungeons. Marigold found it difficult to walk since Pansy's weight and height were much greater than her own. It was weird getting used to having her weight distributed differently, so she came down harder with each step. Not that it was very out of character for Pansy to be stomping about.

Marigold realized very suddenly, as they took their third turn in the dungeons, that she had no idea where they were going. She had somehow forgotten to figure out where the Slytherin common room was! She had planned everything else so perfectly too!

After eating into another ten minutes of their time, the three of them turned a corner and ran smack dab into Malfoy. For the first time, and definitely the last time, Marigold was happy to see him.

"There you are," he said, turning to Crabbe and Goyle. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you. I have some- Parkinson? What are you doing here?"

"I decided to stay for the holidays, Malfoy, surprise!" Marigold said, pretending very desperately to be interested in every word Malfoy said.

"I haven't seen you at all? No matter, let's go. I have something funny to show you."

Malfoy turned around and walked away, Marigold, Harry, and Neville followed. If Malfoy was suspicious at all about Pansy being in the castle, he didn't show it. Marigold was pretty sure that he didn't really care one way or the other.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new password again?" he asked Harry.

"Er-" Harry said.

"Oh, yeah- pure-blood!" Malfoy said, not listening. A stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and the three of them followed.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them. One stretch of wall was made up of thick windows with what looked like water behind them. Marigold realized, amazed, that they were looking into the lake!

The room was empty. The rest of the Slytherins must still be at the feast, or in bed, or snogging.

"Wait here," Malfoy said, motioning them to chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go get it- my father's just sent it to me!"

Curious what Malfoy was going to show them, Marigold and the boys sat down, doing their best to look at home. It helped that Crabbe and Goyle always looked lost.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Harry's nose.

"That should give you a laugh," Malfoy said.

The three of them looked down at the clipping.

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.

"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

"Well?" Malfoy said impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," Harry said bleakly.

Marigold was sick to her stomach, but she said with a giggle, "I think it's funny, Malfoy!"

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," Malfoy said, ignoring Marigold. "You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave. And taking in that Mudblood nobody, Rosenberg. As if that family could sink no lower!"

Marigold and Harry were doing their best to brush off that comment, but Crabbe's face was contorted with fury.

"What's wrong with you, Crabbe?" Malfoy snapped.

"Ate too much," Neville grumbled.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick for me," Malfoy said, snickering "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I supposed Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's happened to this place. He loves Muggleborns. A decent headmaster would let slime like that Creevey in."

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin. Marigold was livid, but forced a smile on her face and laughed along with Malfoy, Pansy's annoying laugh echoing through the common room.

But Neville and Harry were just sitting there. Malfoy dropped his hands and looked at the two of them. Marigold gave them a look and they forced themselves to laugh. Marigold glared at the two of them, she had told them to act casual. Malfoy seemed satisfied with their laughter. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle were just this slow on the uptake.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," Malfoy said slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that stupid Rosenberg. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!"

Marigold looked at Harry and Neville. Crabbe and Goyle were hanging on to Malfoy's every word.

"I wish I knew who it is," Malfoy said petulantly. "I could help them."

"You must have some idea who it is, Malfoy," Marigold cooed.

"You know I haven't, Parkinson," Malfoy snapped. Marigold feigned hurt. "Father won't tell me anything about last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I do know one thing- last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them is killed this time… I hope it's Rosenberg," he said with relish. "Maybe that would put Potter in his place, if his special little girlfriend died- Ha!"

Neville was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists, and Harry was gritting Goyle's teeth. Shooting them a warning look (Marigold couldn't believe they were getting so visibly worked up, they were going to cause a scene, which was the last thing they needed), Marigold spoke up, "Any idea if the person who opened the Chamber last time got caught, Malfoy?"

"Oh, yeah… whoever it was was expelled," he said. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Harry said, puzzled. Marigold was seriously beginning to wonder if Harry wanted to get caught.

"Azkaban- the wizard prison, Goyle," Malfoy said, looking at him in disbelief. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

"Oh no, Malfoy!" Marigold exclaimed.

"Yeah…" Malfoy said. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor."

Marigold caught Harry and Neville's eyes and noticed with alarm that they were starting to look more and more like themselves. Jumping up, Marigold mentioned something about leaving something in the Great Hall. She darted out of the common room. She heard Harry and Neville following behind her, chancing a look back; she was thankful that Malfoy wasn't behind them either.

Unfortunately for Harry and Neville, but they were changing back very quickly, so much so that Harry's large shoes were stomping down the corridors. They made it back to the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

"Wow, Marigold, Malfoy really hates you," Harry said.

"No matter that, what is wrong with you two? Crabbe and Goyle aren't supposed to get angry at Malfoy," Marigold said, hands on her hips.

"Sorry we can't all giggle at him like he's a genius, Marigold," Harry said.

"That- anyways, we didn't learn who's doing the attacking, but we learned a lot actually." Marigold moved into one of the stalls and began to change back into her own clothes. "And on the plus side,' she called out, "I think Mr. Weasley will be very happy to hear about the Malfoy Manor secret chamber."

Without the Polyjuice potion to look forward to, the rest of the Christmas holiday went by rather quickly. Marigold spent some time with Colin and dropped off the gift she had gotten him. He couldn't open it, of course, so she told him what she had gotten him. It was a brand new camera strap with Gryffindor colors on it, that way it would match his robes more than the orange and black strap he had had on before.

Term started and homework got more difficult than ever. If every year was going to keep getting worse and worse as the term went on, Marigold was probably going to lose her mind long before year seven. Neville and Harry were complaining about a rather large stack of homework that Snape had just given them, when the three of them heard an angry shout from the floor above them.

"That was Filch," Harry said, hurrying up the stairs.

With a quick glance between them, Marigold and Neville followed suit. The three of them paused, out of sight, and listened in to what Filch was raving about.

"-even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to deal with! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore-"

His footsteps receded along the corridor, out of sight, and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corridor and were face to face with the ominous writing on the wall. Filch had clearly been managing his usual post. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. With Filch's shouting long gone, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"What's wrong with her now?" Marigold asked, making her way through the inch of water.

Ignoring the OUT OF ORDER sign like always, they walked into the bathroom.

Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's wrong, Myrtle?" Harry asked.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you. I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?" Harry asked.

Marigold groaned.

Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Who did this to you?" Marigold asked gently.

"I don't know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," Myrtle said, glaring at Harry. "It's over there, it got washed out…"

Neville and Harry made a dash for the sink where Myrtle was pointing. Marigold stayed and tried to apologize to Myrtle for Harry, but she just ignored her and went back into the toilet to cry.

Marigold walked over to Harry and Neville. The little book was a diary. It had a faded year on it that dated it fifty years ago. Harry opened it eagerly and read out the name on the front, "T. M. Riddle."

"I know that name," Neville said suddenly. "Ron kept complaining about some old award he kept spewing slugs over and had to keep cleaning."

"Oh, yeah," Marigold agreed, "some sort of award of excellence or something. Ron said something about how the poor bloke didn't deserve slugs all over his plaque."

"It's empty!" Harry said, flipping through the soggy pages. "He never wrote in it."

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it?" Marigold asked, confused.

"Must have been Muggleborn," Harry said, pointing to a label on the back cover. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…"

"Hold on a moment," Marigold said, grabbing the diary from Harry. "The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, right? That's what Malfoy said?"

"Yeah?" Neville said. Harry looked like he knew where Marigold was going with this.

"And we know that this diary is fifty years old, and that Riddle got an award of excellence…"

"Oh!" Neville exclaimed.

"You think Riddle got his award for catching the Heir of Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"Right! His diary would probably tell us everything we needed to know, like where the Chamber is, how to open it, and what sort of monster lives in it…"

"If that were the case, the person doing the attacks this time wouldn't want this thing just lying around," Harry agreed.

"Only one problem," Neville interrupted. "There's nothing in the diary. Riddle probably just got it as a gift and didn't write in it…"

Marigold paused… Neville did have a point. With a shrug, Harry pocketed the diary anyway.

The next few weeks passed by each one like the last. Harry could oftentimes be found thumbing through the diary. The three of them had gone to find the plaque Riddle had been awarded. The trophy room, a place they hadn't been since the year before when Malfoy had challenged them to a duel and set them up.

The burnished gold shield was tucked away in the corner of a cabinet and didn't hold any information as to why it had been awarded. They did however find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boy's.

As time went on, the castle fell into an uneasy calm. There hadn't been another attack in weeks, and Professor Sprout was happy to report that the Mandrakes were growing fast.

Marigold and the boys agreed that it was probably only a matter of time before someone else was attacked. Marigold mentioned that the Heir of Slytherin was probably lulling the students and teachers into a false sense of security. After all, opening the Chamber of Secrets and attacking Muggleborns must be getting riskier and riskier with the whole castle on alert.

Professor Lockhart seemed to be under the impression that his mere presence in the school had sent the culprit running. Marigold, Harry, and Neville had been standing in line for Transfiguration class one afternoon when they overheard Professor Lockhart boasting to Professor McGonagall.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he was saying, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.

"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I wont say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"

He tapped his nose again and strode off, leaving a speechless and annoyed Professor McGonagall to teach at the students for what was left of their class hour.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Marigold, Harry, and Neville had walked into the Great Hall only to be smacked in the face with an abundance of pink.

The whole room was covered in large, lurid pink flowers. Heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. The three of them sat down and picked confetti out of their eggs and juice.

Marigold looked up at the head table and nudged Harry, who in turn looked up and nudged Neville. Lockhart, wearing bright magenta robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. Professor McGonagall's jaw was clenched very tightly, and Snape looked like he was sitting on something very sharp.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty six of you who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all- and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, though. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines. The fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be cursed.

Marigold got a valentine half way through the morning's double Charms. One of the dwarfs barged into the classroom and hollered out her name. Her face matching her hair, Marigold tried to hide behind Neville but one of the Ravenclaw girls pointed her out to the dwarf.

The dwarf dropped a small pink and purple, lacy letter in the shape of a heart on her desk and went back to the front of the room looking for another student. A boy from Ravenclaw sunk low in his chair as the dwarf sang him a musical message.

Heart hammering, Marigold gently tore through the seal, opened up the letter, and read the message. Her heart sank. It was obvious very quickly that the dwarf hadn't read the message because Marigold was sure he wouldn't have been allowed to deliver it.

Her complexion is as muddy as her blood

Her worth as low as her grades are high

Probably thought this was a love letter

Marigold Rosenberg, no-good go-getter

Marigold tucked the note away and went back to paying attention to class. Or she tried to… She was surprised at how hurt she felt. Had she actually anticipated getting something nice?

On their way to their next class, Marigold, Harry, and Neville saw a ton of people getting letters or sung to by the dwarves. One unfortunate Hufflepuff girl got a letter that, when she opened it, magical glitter spewed out of it and got in her eyes and hair.

The castle was absolute chaos.

Sitting down in the hallway, waiting for History of Magic, Neville asked Marigold what her note said. With a shrug, (what was the point right?) she handed it to Harry and Neville who read it several times over.

Neville crumpled up the letter and Harry set it on fire. Marigold giggled a little, wiped her eyes, and thanked them. The three of them got up and went into the classroom, only for it to be interrupted several times by more dwarves with love letters.

Lunch was madness. The confetti falling from the ceiling had turned into heart shaped bubbles. Marigold and the boys ate quickly and escaped. The three of them were headed toward their last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, when one of the dwarves caught up with Harry.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.

Harry's face turned bright red. Marigold looked around for somewhere to hide Harry, but found a line of first years in line for class. Ginny was watching the scene unfold from the line, her face bright red. It was obvious that she hadn't anticipated being there to watch this all go down. Marigold was looking around frantically, but there was no place to hide Harry.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," the dwarf said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

"Not here," Harry hissed, trying to escape.

Marigold and Neville stood helplessly as the dwarf and Harry tangled over Harry's bag, which split in two. Harry's wand, books, parchment and ink bottle smashed to the floor. Marigold bent down and helped Harry pick everything up before the dwarf could start singing.

"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

Neville bent down and tried to help Harry and Marigold stuff everything into the bag.

"What's all the commotion?" Percy asked, arriving to the pile up.

Harry got up and tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor. Marigold watched wide-eyed as the dwarf sat on Harry's ankles and began to sing

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard,

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!

Harry tried to laugh along with everyone else. Marigold shoved the dwarf off his ankles, a little roughly, and Neville helped Harry up. Percy was trying to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you, Malfoy-"

Marigold looked up and saw Malfoy showing Riddle's diary to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Give that back," Harry said quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" Malfoy said, obviously thinking the diary was Harry's.

A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified. Marigold slowly pulled her wand out of her robe.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," Percy said sternly.

"When I've had a look," Malfoy said, waving the diary tauntingly.

"As school prefect-" Percy was saying.

But Harry had been pushed as far as he could go. He pulled his wand out and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

The diary shot out of Malfoy's hands and Neville fumbled but caught it.

"Harry!" Percy said loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!"

Malfoy was furious and, as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully at her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine very much!"

Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class. Malfoy turned to Marigold with a sneer, "I hope you liked yours," he mouthed.

Marigold, her wand already outstretched and pointing at Malfoy, found herself being pulled away by Neville and Harry.

Compared to the events of their break, Defense Against the Dark Arts class was exceptionally boring. When class was finally over, Harry, Neville, and Marigold booked it back to the common room, praying they wouldn't be caught or seen by any dwarves.

The three of them hid in the dormitory for the rest of the afternoon. They tried to study, but every so often someone would come bursting through the portrait hole covered in glitter or giggling about something, so they ultimately gave up.

They pondered at length whether or not they should go to dinner, but when all three of their stomachs started growling, they gave in and made their way to the Great Hall.

The bubbles had disappeared, but the ceiling was somehow giving off a soft pink glow. The castle seemed to be calming down. Throughout dinner, the occasional dwarf would pop up, but it seemed like all of the students who were getting valentines had already gotten them.

Harry left the Great Hall early and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. The twins kept teasing him about the valentine he had gotten, and Malfoy was laughing at him from the Slytherin table. Neville went back with Harry, but Marigold decided to stay.

She struck up a conversation with Ginny, who didn't seem completely there. Neither of them said anything about Harry's valentine, and Ginny seemed relieved about that. Marigold just asked her how she was doing, she looked better than she had in awhile, it seemed Christmas had been a good break from the stress of school. Marigold told her that she could talk to her if she felt overwhelmed again, that she wasn't alone.

Marigold was telling Ginny, through tears of laughter, about the poor Hufflepuff girl who had taken a puff of glitter to the face, Ginny actually smiling about it, when a dwarf poked her in the arm. The exhausted dwarf just handed her a small frilly note and walked away. One of his wings was bent and he looked even more miserable than that morning when they all walked in.

Marigold looked over at Draco Malfoy, who was excitedly re-telling the story about Harry's embarrassment to Pansy Parkinson, the only one who seemed to like hearing it again and again.

With a sigh, heart reserved, she peeled open the note and read it. It wasn't a poem, but something else.

Happy Valentines Day, Marigold,

I think you are very pretty and kind

I think you are magic

I think I like you

And I think one day I'll tell you that

Marigold looked up into the Great Hall. While she looked over the letter again, a lot of students cleared out of the hall. Who could have sent this? She was always able to recognize Dumbledore's handwriting, or Charlie's, or Mrs. Weasley's, just by what was on the letter, but she didn't recognize this handwriting. It was kind of sloppy, but otherwise indistinct.

Quickly excusing herself from the table, unable to keep from beaming, telling Ginny she would talk to her later, Marigold raced back to Gryffindor tower.

The common room was empty, except Neville who was sitting by the fireplace like usual. Stuffing the note into her robes, Marigold flopped down on the couch next to him, still beaming. Trevor, who had been sitting on Neville's lap, jumped out and hopped away. Leaning up against the arm of the couch, she stretched her legs out with a sigh.

"Harry go off to bed?" she asked, hoping she sounded casual.

"Yeah, he said something about the diary and took off," Neville said.

"Ah, yes, the mysterious empty diary someone flushed down the toilet. I don't know why he keeps ahold of it. It was also flushed down a toilet so I really don't know why he sleeps with it," Marigold said.

She was giggling, feeling giddy, and she wanted to tell her best friend about the cool note, not talk about Harry's diary.

"Probably because it's the last lead we have on the Chamber of Secrets," Neville said.

"Probably."

Marigold turned to Neville, who had a look of concern on his face. Marigold's smile fell from her face, as she turned around to see Harry, sweating and shaking, panting from bounding down the stairs.

"It was Hagrid, guys, Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets," Harry blurted, panting but confident.

You Musssst be Joking

Marigold looked at Harry as if he were mad. Standing in front of them, Marigold noticed Riddle's diary in his hands.

"What do you mean it was Hagrid?" Neville asked.

"This diary, it's not empty!" Harry said, as if that magically cleared everything up. Marigold and Neville just looked at him, egging him to go on.

"Ok, so remember when the dwarf ripped my bag and ink spilled over all my things?" Harry asked, walking over and standing in front of them. Marigold and Neville just nodded. "Well, the diary didn't get soaked in ink. So I went upstairs and wrote something in it… Now, hear me out, Riddle wrote back to me."

"What?" Marigold asked. That wasn't possible.

"He wrote back to me, he said he put his memories into the diary. Not only that, but he knew about the Chamber of Secrets. He showed me his memory, and who opened it."

"Harry, that's so danger-"

"What did he show you?" Neville interrupted.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle was trying to get permission to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, but the Chamber had been opened and a girl died, so the headmaster said no. Then it shifted to Riddle confronting Hagrid about a monster he had, and that Riddle knew Hagrid didn't want anyone to die, but a monster is a monster. So Riddle tried to kill the monster, but it got away!"

"Did you actually see the Chamber of Secrets?" Marigold asked.

"Well, no."

"Then maybe it wasn't Hagrid," Marigold suggested. "Maybe, just maybe, Riddle got it wrong."

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," Harry said miserably. "The attacks must have stopped after Hagrid got expelled, otherwise Riddle wouldn't have gotten his reward."

"That could have been a coincidence, just like how there hasn't been an attack since Christmas!" Marigold added.

"Maybe we should talk to Hagrid about it," Harry suggested.

"Oh yeah, let's just go up to our friend and ask if they killed someone! Let's go for a little stroll down to his house and ask him if he's a wizard supremacist and if he hates Muggleborns. Who knows, maybe he's hated me since last year even though he got me Christmas gifts and has been oh so NICE!" Marigold snapped. "No, I don't believe it was Hagrid. Just because we ran out of leads doesn't mean I am going to entertain this idea another second! So no, I won't take any part in whatever this is."

Marigold got up in a huff. She got up so quickly in fact that the letter fell out of her robes.

"Hey, didn't we destroy that?" Harry said, making a grab for the letter.

"No!" Marigold said, quickly grabbing it away. "I mean… this is a different one."

Face bright red and burning, Marigold turned toward the staircase. She still tried to stomp off for effect, but her dramatic exit had been thwarted by the letter.

When she got up to her dormitory, she grabbed her planner from the end table next to her bed. Using a sticking charm so that it wouldn't fall out, she affixed the little note to the back cover of the book.

She didn't put any more thought into Hagrid opening the Chamber of Secrets. It absolutely wasn't him and it would be insulting if she even considered it.

Marigold fully invested all of her time and energy into her schoolwork, she didn't think about the diary, Hagrid, or the Chamber of Secrets… She did think about the letter every time she grabbed her journal though.

Time passed, and soon enough, it had been four months since the attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. Everyone seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Peeves had finally gotten bored with taunting Harry, and even Ernie MacMillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day.

Easter crept up on them very quickly, and with it the prospect of a future. The time had come to choose what subjects they would be taking for their third year. Marigold and Hermione agonized over the whole idea. The two of them ultimately found themselves signing up for everything.

Harry half heartedly just closed his eyes and jabbed his wand on the paper and signed up for wherever it landed. Neville had a constant stream of mail coming in from his relatives suggesting what classes he should take. Marigold found him muttering to himself in the common room late one night with all the letters spread out around him.

"Nope," Marigold said, collecting all the letters and hiding them behind her back. "The choice is completely up to you."

"Come on, Marigold, give them back," Neville begged, grabbing at the papers.

"No! You are driving yourself mad with these, just sign up for what you find interesting."

In the end, Harry and Neville signed up for the same classes, figuring at least the two of them could be together to figure it all out.

Harry had a Quidditch match against the Hufflepuffs coming up, and Wood was working the whole team into the ground. Harry barely had time to do his homework because Wood had them practicing every night.

The evening before Saturday's match, Marigold went to bed early, wanting to get up and study for the final exams before the match. They still weren't for a long time, but Hermione had already been studying for weeks and Marigold felt behind somehow.

Marigold woke up the next morning, just like she had planned to. However, Harry and Neville marched downstairs and interrupted her. She hadn't anticipated the two of them being up for a while. But when they came down the stairs, Marigold knew something was wrong.

The two of them sat down and Harry whispered under his breath, "Someone trashed our dormitory yesterday. Riddle's diary is gone!"

"What? But Harry, only a Gryf-"

"I know, only a Gryffindor could have stolen it."

The three of them made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry went and sat with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Marigold and Neville went and sat with Hermione and Ron. After a quick pep talk from Wood, and an even quicker breakfast, the three of them left the Great Hall and made their way to the Quidditch pitch. Well, they did until Harry paused, slack jawed, and very confused.

"What's wrong," Neville asked.

"The voice," Harry whispered, "I just heard it again, didn't you?"

Neville shook his head, but Marigold cursed.

"Wha-"

"Never mind that, Harry, you go to the Quidditch match. I need to go check something."

Marigold turned around so quickly that she nearly ran into Hermione.

"Careful, Marigold," Hermione said.

"Hermione!" Marigold exclaimed. "Can I borrow you for a moment?"

Confused, Hermione nodded. The boys, shaking their heads, continued on to the Quidditch pitch.

"Hermione, I need your help," Marigold said, unable to keep the urgency from her voice. "You know your way around the library better than I do."

"The library?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "Why do you need to go to the library now? The Quidd-"

"I need to find something, and quickly," Marigold explained. "I think Slytherin's monster is a snake. A snake that can petrify and kill people."

Hermione's eyes got really, really wide. "Oh my god," she breathed. "That makes so much sense, why didn't I think of it?"

"Come on," Marigold said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the library. "I've seen a ton of weird stuff, maybe it'll be helpful."

Marigold proceeded to tell Hermione everything she knew. She told her about Hagrid's dead chickens, the odd behavior of the spiders, everything she could think to mention; everything except the voice Harry heard… The voice that had tipped her off in the first place.

The two of them made it to the library and began looking. It was clear in minutes that Marigold had made the right decision in bringing Hermione along. With a squeal, Hermione rushed over to Marigold, who had been looking in the wrong section of course. An old leather-bound book was in her hands. Hermione flipped to the page her finger was separating and handed the book to Marigold.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg and hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of it's eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

Marigold looked up at Hermione, "You found it!" she said. "But I'm confused, how come it only petrified everyone?"

Hermione paused, lost in thought. Marigold could see the gears turning in her head. "Nobody's looked it directly in the eyes," she finally said. "Justin must have seen it through Nearly Headless Nick, who can't die again. There was a ton of water on the ground when Mrs. Norris was petrified. Colin…"

"Colin had his camera," Marigold finished.

"What are you guys doing in here?" someone asked.

Marigold and Hermione looked up and found themselves face to face with a pretty Ravenclaw girl with long curly hair. She had a Prefect's badge and was looking at them sternly.

"Why aren't you at the Quidditch match?" she asked, looking between the two of them.

"Do you have a mirror?" Hermione asked.

"A mirror?" the girl repeated, raising her eyebrow.

"Slytherin's monster is a Basilisk," Hermione said.

"We need a mirror," Marigold said, ignoring the girl's gaping and sputtering, having put together what Hermione had figured out. "We need to go talk to a teacher."

"Right, right of course," the girl said, digging in her bag and pulling a small mirror out. "As Prefect, I'll go with you."

Marigold tucked the book in her robes as the Prefect introduced herself as Penelope Clearwater. There wasn't enough room for all three of them to huddle around the mirror, so Marigold let Hermione and Penelope look around the corners, and she followed behind. Hermione quickly told Penelope what they had found and they were just beginning to discuss who they should go to, when they put the mirror around the next corner.

Hermione stopped talking mid sentence, and Marigold watched in shock as they both seized up. Marigold covered her eyes with her hands and listened as Hermione and Penelope fell to the ground with a thud.

She tried to listen for any movement, but she couldn't hear anything over the sound of her heart thumping in her ears. She couldn't move. She didn't dare open her eyes… she didn't have anything to look though. Oh god, what if they weren't looking at the mirror? What if one of them had accidently looked up? What if they weren't petrified?

Marigold stood there pressing her hands into her eyes so hard that a kaleidoscope of stars and shapes stretched out behind her eyelids into eternity. Her whole body had begun to shake… she really should open her eyes and make sure they are still alive, but she couldn't make herself move.

"Oh my heaven's!" Professor McGonagall's voice made Marigold jump.

Marigold listened as two pairs of feet came running toward her.

"Poppy! They're just lying here!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed.

Marigold still couldn't move. She knew it was safe now, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Merlin's beard, Miss Rosenberg you're- what happened here?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Marigold didn't say anything.

"Marigold, it's ok. Please tell us what happened," Professor McGonagall said, moving over to her.

Marigold still didn't say anything.

With several minutes of coaxing, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall convinced Marigold to slowly open her eyes. When she did, she promptly wished she hadn't.

In the brief second she had opened them she had seen all she could. Lying down on the floor right in front of her, eyes meeting her own, was Hermione. Alive, but petrified. Her eyes wide open in shock, mouth parted from being caught right in the middle of a sentence. Penelope was next to her on the ground, her hand gripped tightly on the mirror handle.

Marigold just gaped at Hermione. This was all her fault. If she hadn't dragged Hermione to the library, none of this would have happened. Penelope, too, had just wanted to help them, and look what happened.

Professor McGonagall conjured up stretchers for the two girls, but Madam Pomfrey gently touched Marigold's shoulder and led her ahead.

"All right, dear, this way," Madam Pomfrey said gently.

Marigold didn't say anything as Madam Pomfrey guided her through the castle. Hermione's wide eyes seemed to have been burned into Marigold's brain. Every time she blinked they were there.

Madam Pomfrey led Marigold quickly through the castle. When they got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey helped Marigold into one of the beds. Marigold watched as Professor McGonagall lowered Hermione and Penelope into beds of their own, but Marigold's sight was cut off as Madam Pomfrey drew a curtain around Marigold's bed.

Madam Pomfrey disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a deep green vial of potion. Marigold drank it. It tasted like the birthday cake Mrs. Weasley had made for her birthday last year.

"Okay, that should keep you cal-"

"Miss Rosenberg," Dumbledore's voice cut Madam Pomfrey off.

Marigold turned toward his voice, and sure enough, Dumbledore had slipped through the curtains.

"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said, taking a chair from her and ignoring her look of annoyance.

"Don't push her, Dumbledore," Madam Pomfrey warned before leaving.

Dumbledore waited a minute, Marigold was sure he wanted her to say something. Her chest felt like it was relaxing, she hadn't realized until then that it had been tight before. Marigold opened her mouth several times, but still couldn't find her words.

"I'm glad you are unhurt," Dumbledore started slowly, "what did you find?"

"It's a Basilisk, sir," she said, finally finding her words.

Dumbledore didn't seem surprised. Of course he wouldn't be surprised.

"I thought I told you not to go looking into this," he said.

"I thought you said to keep Harry away from it," Marigold said, a little more boldly than she had meant. She was suddenly very annoyed with Dumbledore.

"I did, didn't I?" Dumbledore smiled sadly. "This latest attack won't be going unnoticed."

Marigold was confused. None of the attacks had gone unnoticed, the whole school was in hysterics the last attack, and now with one survivor they were going to go absolutely mad. Especially since the only survivor of the attack was Harry's best friend.

"I've heard word that Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, is gathering signatures to get me to step down."

Marigold's eyes went wide with shock, "But you can't step down!"

Dumbledore held up his hand, "With all the signatures there wouldn't be much I could do. However, I don't believe I would be gone permanently. Marigold, it is now more important than ever that you keep Harry away from all of this."

Marigold tried to protest, tried to tell him that trying to keep Harry away from things like this was just about as possible as her dad taking her back in, but Dumbledore stood up.

"I must be leaving now, I know you have questions, but they will have to wait." Dumbledore pulled the curtain back and paused. "Keep them close, Marigold."

With that he was gone.

Marigold had tried to get up, but then Madam Pomfrey showed up, as if she knew Marigold had been trying to get out of bed, and scolded her. She handed her a pale blue potion that tasted like flowers, and after handing her a warm blanket and muttering a lot, Madam Pomfrey left, leaving the curtains to ripple behind her.

Marigold started feeling sleepy. She started dozing off but footsteps woke her up again. A curtain to her left drew and Marigold heard a moan.

"Hermione!" Marigold heard Ron's voice from the other side of her curtain.

"We found her near the library," McGonagall said.

"Marigold was in the library with her!" Marigold heard Neville whimper.

"Yes, she's here too," McGonagall said.

"Please no…"

Marigold's curtain opened and Harry and Neville let out a sigh of relief. Marigold smiled as Neville and Harry rushed to her side. Marigold got a glimpse through the curtain before it closed and saw that Ron was sitting next to Hermione with his face in his hands.

"I'm alright," Marigold said sleepily, turning to Neville and Harry.

Neville had tears running down his cheeks.

"When they canceled the game- I didn't think-"

"You're not hurt are you?" Neville asked, cutting Harry off.

"Madam Pomfrey wants to keep her overnight, just to make sure she is okay, but she will be back tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said.

Marigold's eyes felt heavy.

"Let's let her rest. I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," Professor McGonagall said heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

Harry and Neville looked like they wanted to protest, but Marigold was having a really hard time keeping her eyes open.

"Go on," she mumbled, sleepily. "I'm just going to sleep, not much for company."

Once Professor McGonagall, Harry, Ron, and Neville had disappeared, Marigold slowly drifted away to sleep. If she dreamed she didn't remember them when she woke up the next morning.

The high ceiling of the hospital wing greeted her as she blinked awake. The events of the day before came crashing back as Marigold pulled a strand of hair out of her mouth.

Madam Pomfrey burst through the curtain with a tray of breakfast. Marigold did her best to answer Madam Pomfrey's questions whilst simultaneously stuffing her face with grits. Eventually, long after her breakfast was gone, Madam Pomfrey decided that Marigold was in good enough shape.

"Do you feel safe enough to go back to class?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Because if not, I'm sure something could be arranged."

"Like a teacher to escort me to and from my classes?" Marigold asked, surprised.

"There are other options as well, but that would be one, yes."

Marigold thought for a moment then shook her head. "I'm alright, and I think that if I have a teacher following me around all the time it would probably cause more harm than good."

"Well, if you are sure, I can't force the matter. Alright then, I will escort you back to your common room." Madam Pomfrey looked as though she wanted to force the matter.

Marigold didn't argue. As they walked back to the common room, Marigold noticed that the castle was abnormally empty for the weekend. As they walked through the corridors, they didn't pass by a single student, not even a Prefect.

Madam Pomfrey left her at the portrait hole and as soon as Marigold climbed through she immediately found herself surrounded by Gryffindors. About a million questions were being hurled at her from all directions. It seemed like every Gryffindor in every year had crowded around her

"Back it up, back it up!" Fred was pushing through the sea of shoulders toward her.

"Yeah, give her some room to breathe! Let's not send her back to the hospital wing," George shouted.

Some of the students tried to protest, but when Marigold didn't make an attempt to answer any of their questions, they slowly dispersed, muttering and grumbling to themselves.

Fred and George led Marigold over to a corner where Harry and Neville were sitting. She passed by Ron, Ginny, and Percy who all looked like someone had died. Marigold sat down next to Harry. Fred and George took one look at the three of them and must have put together that they needed to talk because they didn't linger.

"We went to meet with Hagrid last night," Harry whispered, not bothering to look up from his hands. "Figured, with the attack on the three of you, it was time to ask him about what Tom Riddle told me."

"Didn't learn much though," Neville muttered, also not looking up at her.

"Hagrid got arrested," Harry said.

"He what? You must be joking!" Marigold felt like her heart had been punched.

"Not only that, but Lucius Malfoy turned up with all these signatures and now Dumbledore is gone too," Harry groaned.

Even with the heads up Dumbledore had given her she was still surprised. So Dumbledore was actually gone…

"Not to say that all of that isn't terrible… but that wasn't even the worst part of the night," Neville said.

Marigold just looked at him. What could possibly be worse than that?

"There couldn't have been another attack, nobody new was in the hospital wing when I woke up," Marigold said.

"No, no attack," Neville said.

"Well, not in that matter… but we did have quite the battle with a bunch of big spiders."

Marigold looked from Harry to Neville and back to Harry. She thought they had been joking at first, trying to make her feel better about things, but no… they seemed quite serious.

"When they took Hagrid away- we were under the invisibility cloak- he told us to follow the spiders. So, we did…" Neville trailed off.

"They weren't exactly hard to follow once we found a few scuttling through Hagrid's vegetable patch," Harry said. "We followed them deep into the forbidden forest, walked for what seemed like hours. We lost them so suddenly we hardly noticed."

"That was when two of them picked us up." Neville shuddered.

"Picked you up?" Marigold repeated.

"Picked us up," Neville confirmed. "They carried us deeper into the Forbidden Forest. Eventually they dropped us, we fell hard on the floor of a clearing. All around us were spiders the size of horses. But, the worst part was the way they talked- oh yes, they talked- all clicky and their pincers moved when they talked. The one that was carrying Harry called out to a spider named Aragog. Aragog was the size of an elephant, Marigold, an elephant. They were about to eat us, but we told them Hagrid had sent us and they paused to hear us."

"Aragog- I can't believe a spider told us this- but Aragog told us exactly what Tom Riddle's diary told me," Harry said. "Hagrid was expelled for having him, that they thought he was the monster in the Chamber of Secrets—"

"Except Aragog wasn't born in the castle," Neville interrupted, "and he never even saw anything but the cupboard Hagrid kept him in. And the girl that died? She died in a bathroom, so it couldn't have been Aragog. Aragog wouldn't say what did kill that girl, though he did know. Apparently the creature is the mortal enemy of all spiders."

"After finding out all this, we tried to leave, but they tried to kill us again! We made a break for it, but there were so many of them." Neville shivered. "All the spiders, hundreds of them, chicken sized to the horse size, chased after us through the pitch back Forest. They were gaining too fast, and I tripped." Neville blushed. "Harry came back for me, of course, but by that time we had been surrounded. All was lost until out of nowhere two bright lights pierced through the dark, it was-"

"It was Mr. Weasley's car!" Harry said excitedly. "The Forbidden Forest had turned it feral. Thanks to that car, Neville and I were able to get out!"

Marigold just stared at the two of them, completely astonished. "I get sixteen hours of sleep one night and the two of you up and go on a whirlwind adventure without me? I thought we had an unspoken agreement that we would go on all the dangerous adventures together?"

Neville and Harry laughed.

"We didn't find out anything though, not really anyways," Harry said, his laugh fading away to a sigh.

"Other than the fact that Hagrid is a good matchmaker. Aragog said Hagrid set him up with his wife."

"You also found out something important regarding the girl who died last year," Marigold pointed out.

Harry looked confused, but Neville gasped.

"She died in a bathroom!"

"So what if we know where she- Ohh! Marigold you don't think-"

"I do. I think it was Moaning Myrtle."

"But it's not like we can go ask her about it," Harry groaned, "the castle is under curfew and we are going to be escorted by teachers at all times!"

The three of them leaned back in their chairs. Harry had a point. Trying to go talk to Myrtle would be difficult… Maybe this was for the best. With Dumbledore gone, it really did fall on Marigold to keep Harry out of trouble, and without any way to talk to Myrtle he wouldn't be able to get into any more trouble

"Ugh, I wish Aragog would tell us what the monster is, we're no closer to finding out what it is!"

"I think I can help with that," Marigold said fishing through her robes for the book. "When you heard that voice yesterday, Harry, it suddenly hit me. Neville and I couldn't hear the voice, so I had thought it was a voice only you could hear. But then I realized, what if it was a voice only you could understand."

Marigold handed the book to Harry, Neville reading over his shoulder.

"Slytherin's monster is a big snake," Marigold said.

Into the Chamber

Trying to sneak away to talk to Moaning Myrtle turned out to be downright impossible. The professors escorted hoards of students everywhere, even to and from the Great Hall for meals. The three of them had tried to sneak out to see her under the invisibility cloak one night, but they didn't get very far before they realized that the halls were too patrolled to risk it. Marigold kept trying to find ways to break away from the ranks, thinking maybe if she went alone it would be easier. Unfortunately, after the last attack, where Marigold was the only one to walk away, all the professors were keeping an extra close eye on her.

Classes were harder than ever, and nobody seemed to be able to focus. With Dumbledore gone, the whole school was even more scared than ever before. Without the ability to roam about the castle, or even go to the library unaccompanied by a professor, the Gryffindor common room was packed at all times. Marigold, Neville, and Harry rarely had any time to talk privately.

Only the Slytherins seemed to be calm about the whole situation, which wasn't escaping the other houses. Worst of all of them was Malfoy, who seemed to think that he himself had something to do with Dumbledore being forced out. He had been strutting around the school for days acting as though he owned the place. It wasn't until about two weeks after Hagrid had been arrested and Dumbledore had left that Marigold overheard why he was more pompous than usual.

It was near the end of double potions and Marigold was just minding her own business working on copying down Snape's notes on the chalkboard when she overheard Malfoy bragging to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent one now. Someone who won't want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall wont last long, she's only filling in…"

Marigold felt a white hot flush of rage wash over her, but she kept her mouth shut. Snape swept by, making no comment of Hermione's empty seat in front of Marigold or looking at Marigold at all.

"Sir," Malfoy said loudly. "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?"

"Now, now, Malfoy," Snape said, though he couldn't suppress a thin lipped smile. "Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," Malfoy said, smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, if you wanted to apply for the job- I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir-"

Snape smirked as he swept off around the classroom, fortunately not spotting Seamus, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

"I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on. Marigold didn't engage, though, with the hair on her neck standing up, she could tell he was looking right at her. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger, but I'll settle for Rosenberg-"

The bell rang in that moment, which was lucky because at Malfoy's last comment, both Ron and Neville had leapt off their stools, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, their attempts to reach Malfoy went unnoticed.

Marigold had grabbed Neville by the arm very quickly and shook her head. Neville tried to protest but she didn't let go. Ron was red faced and furious.

"Let me at him," Ron growled as Dean and Seamus hung onto his arms. "I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands!"

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology!" Snape barked over the class's heads.

Snape made quick eye contact with Marigold. Something in his eyes told Marigold that he had heard what Malfoy had said, but she couldn't quite place what it was. It was brief, and then they were off.

Something happened the next day that drove Malfoy's stupid comment and even the Chamber of Secrets out of Marigold's mind for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall told the class that their exams would start on the first of June, only one week away.

"Exams?" Seamus howled. "We're still getting exams?"

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to continue to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, I trust you are all studying hard."

Marigold's stomach churned. Ever since Hermione and Penelope were petrified, and Harry and Neville had told her about Aragog, as well as the three of them trying to talk to Moaning Myrtle, Marigold had completely forgotten about exams! She was studying just enough to get through the next class!

Murmurs echoed around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible," she said. "That, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Marigold frantically grabbed for her planner and began scribbling a study schedule for herself, Harry and Neville.

With the castle on lockdown and nothing else to do other than sit and stare at nothing, Harry and Neville couldn't go very far to try and avoid Marigold and her insane study schedule. She had them working late into the night, and without Quidditch, Harry didn't have his usual dose of escapism, something he was desperately missing.

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made an announcement over breakfast.

"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" Wood roared excitedly.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with us catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering. Ginny took that moment to come and sit by Marigold. She looked horrible. She was rocking backward and forward slightly.

"What's wrong?" Marigold asked, gently touching Ginny's shoulder to get her attention.

Ginny let out a yelp and Marigold removed her hand at once.

"Marigold, I've got to tell you something," she mumbled, not looking at Marigold.

Marigold was aware that Harry and Neville were closely listening in.

"What is it?" Marigold asked calmly.

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She kept trying and looked like a goldfish trying to breathe on land.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets?" Marigold whispered.

Ginny drew a deep breath, and at that moment Percy plopped down next to Ginny giving her a fright. Her eyes grew wide and she scampered away.

Marigold could have yelled at Percy until she was red in the face, but it didn't matter; Ginny was gone, taking with her whatever information she had wanted so desperately to talk about.

Marigold could think of little else for the rest of the day. She was still wishing she could go and talk to Moaning Myrtle. Gilderoy Lockhart was escorting her and the rest of the other students back to Gryffindor Tower later that morning after their class.

Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong as soon as the words were out of his mouth, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual, he had bags under his eyes, and his skin looked grey. It seemed he had been up most of the night on patrol.

"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor petrified people's mouths will be It was Hagrid. Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, sir," Harry piped up, causing Neville to stumble a bit in surprise.

"Thank you, Harry," Lockhart said graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students everywhere and standing guard all night…"

"With so much on your plate, why don't you leave us here, sir," Marigold said, catching on. "After all, we only have another corridor to go."

"You know, Rosenberg, I think I will," Lockhart said. "I really should go and prepare for my next class."

And he hurried off.

Marigold, Harry, and Neville let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Bloody brilliant thinking, Harry," Neville said.

"We can finally get some answers now!" Marigold exclaimed.

As they ran, Marigold got more and more excited that they might get answers now! But even more so, she was excited that Harry would finally be able to stop looking into things. Surely if they got answers and were able to tell the teachers, Harry would no longer need to endanger himself trying to solve the mystery. They whirled around a corridor and only had one more to go when an announcement made them screech to a halt.

Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the corridors, magically magnified.

"All students return to their House dormitories at once. Teachers, second floor. Immediately please."

"Another attack? Now?" Harry gasped.

"Quick, over here." Marigold grabbed the two of them and led them to a broom cupboard, keeping it a crack open.

From the small opening, they couldn't see anything, but they could hear footsteps approaching.

Gasps and cries echoed from the corridor ahead of them. Marigold felt one of the boys grab her arm.

"As you can see, it has finally happened." Professor McGonagall's voice reached them. "A student has been taken by the monster, right into the Chamber itself."

"Who is it?" Professor Sprout whimpered. "Which student."

"Ginny Weasley," Professor McGonagall said.

Marigold's knees gave out and she fell to the ground. She could hear several teachers crying.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said from further away than the next corridor over. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said-"

Marigold heard footsteps running down the corridor, and watched as a crazy haired Lockhart rushed passed where the three of them were hiding and disappeared into the next corridor.

"So sorry, dozed off, what have I missed?"

"Just the man." Marigold could hear Snape's scowl in his voice. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I- well, I-" Lockhart sputtered.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Professor Flitwick piped up.

"D-did I? I don't recall-"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Snape said. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

"I- I really never- you may have misunderstood-"

"We'll leave you to it, then Gilderoy," Professor McGonagall said. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free reign at last."

"V-very well," he sputtered. "I'll- I'll be in my office, getting- getting ready."

Marigold heard him scamper away and watched as he passed by the crack in the broom closet.

"Right," Professor McGonagall's voice rang out after Lockhart's footsteps had disappeared. "That's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

Eventually the footsteps disappeared.

"Come on, Marigold, we have to get back to the dormitory," Neville said, trying to help her up off the floor.

"Neville's right, Marigold, we can't be missing," Harry said.

Marigold allowed them to half carry, half drag her back to the Gryffindor common room.

Marigold, Harry and Neville sat down by the fireplace. Ron came and sat down next to her, not saying a word. Fred and George arrived soon after. Marigold didn't know what to say, but she gave Fred and George a hug, and they held on a little too tight and for a little too long. Percy wasn't there, he had gone to send an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.

Marigold didn't like the selfish thought that crept up on her. She knew she should be worrying about Ginny and coming up with a plan, coming up with something to at least make the others feel better… but she thought about herself. With Hogwarts being closed down, what would happen to her scholarship? Would she go back to live with her parents?

Marigold tried again and again to focus on Ginny and some sort of plan, and she succeeded most times, but the thought of going back couldn't be kept down.

Near sunset, Fred, George, and Ron went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer. The rest of the common room cleared out not long after that.

"She knew something," Marigold said, speaking for the first time since hearing the news. "She'd somehow found out something about the Chamber of Secrets or the Heir. That must be why- there's no other reason- she's a pureblood, why else could she have been taken?"

Neither of them said anything. The sun was sinking, blood red, below the skyline. It was then that Marigold had a thought and stood up. Harry and Neville looked alarmed at her sudden movement. Marigold knew she would be going against Dumbledore's order, but the order be damned! She was going to do something, and if Harry followed, he followed.

"I'm going to talk to Lockhart," she said. "He's going to try and get into the Chamber, apparently. I can at least tell him what we know."

Marigold didn't wait for a response before turning around and marching out of the portrait hole. She heard Harry and Neville scrambling behind her.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside of it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

Marigold knocked on the door and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peeping through it.

"Oh, Miss Rosenberg- Mr. Potter- Mr. Longbottom-" he said, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment- if you would be quick-"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," Harry said.

"We think it will help you," Marigold added.

"Er, well- it's not terribly-" the side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean, well, all right."

He opened the door and they entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes- jade-green, lilac, and midnight blue- had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Er, well, yes," Lockhart said, ripping a life-sized poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call- unavoidable- got to go."

"What about my sister?" Marigold asked, eyes flashing with rage.

"Well, as to that- most unfortunate-" Lockhart said, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I-"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Neville said. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well, I must say, when I took the job-" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "Nothing in the job description-"

"You mean you're running away?" Harry said disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books-"

"Books can be misleading…"

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.

"My dear children," Lockhart said, straightening up and frowning at them. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things." His demeanor had changed. "No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No fashion sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairlip. I mean, come on-"

"So you've been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" Harry said incredulously.

"Harry, Harry," Lockhart said, shaking his head impatiently, he was no longer the smiling handsome teacher he had been all year… he wasn't even the scurrying mess he had been moments before, he was… different. "It's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track those people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it." Marigold slowly began reaching for her wand. "If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. It's been a lot of work, children. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared to get dirty."

Marigold held her wand at her side, still and furious. Lockhart banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned on them, but before he could say anything else, Marigold raised her wand. Expelliarmus.

Scarlet light burst from her wand and Lockhart's wand flew from his hand and clattered to the floor. Moving quickly, Marigold then sent his wand floating out the open window and to the grounds below.

Lockhart stared at her in disbelief. His expression changed to fury and then to defeat when he realized she fully intended to use her wand again if she needed to.

Harry and Neville were staring at her in disbelief.

"How-"

"Take my memory?" Marigold hissed, marching over to Lockhart and sticking her wand in his face. "Take their memories?"

"You little bitch!" he snapped before cowering behind her wand again.

"Oh fight me," Marigold spat, "oh, right, you can't, your wand is gone."

"What d'you want me to do?" Lockhart said weakly, back to his useless, pathetic self, so much so that Marigold was surprised he had ever been intimidating. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," Harry said, finding his words. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it."

"Let's go, and if you make a noise or try to run away, I'll break your knees." Marigold said.

Marigold marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages covered the wall. Marigold paused when she saw the newest words:

HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER

Marigold turned back to Lockhart, even more furious than ever and marched him through the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw them. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," Marigold said.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then-" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" Neville asked.

"No idea," said Myrtle in a hushed tone. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" Neville asked.

"Somewhere there," Myrtle said, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry and Neville hurried over to it. Marigold kept her wand trained on Lockhart who was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face.

"There's a small snake etched on this one!" Harry called over to Marigold.

"That tap's never worked, " Myrtle said brightly as Harry tried to turn it.

"Harry, say something in Parseltongue," Marigold said.

"Alright… Open up."

"Still English," Neville whispered.

Harry looked back at the sink, and spoke again. Except this time a strange hissing came out. At once, the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. The next second, the sink began to move. In fact, the sink sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed. The pipe was large enough for a man to slide into, or a giant snake slither out of.

"I'm going down there," Harry said, determined.

"Me too," Marigold said.

"Me as well," Neville said, trying to sound as determined as Marigold and Harry.

There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," Lockhart said, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just-"

"Move another inch," Marigold warned.

"You can go first," Harry growled.

White faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening, Marigold's wand jabbed in his back.

"What good would it do?" he asked, his voice feeble.

Marigold just rolled her eyes and pushed him in. Once he slid out of sight, she followed.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. Marigold could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but not as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward. Marigold knew she was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Deeper than even the Sorcerer's Stone had been. She could hear Harry and Neville sliding behind her.

Very suddenly, the pipe leveled out and she shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, white as a ghost and covered in slime. Marigold got up and trained her wand on him again.

Harry and Neville flew out of the end of the pipe moments later, also covered in slime.

"We must be miles under the school," Harry said, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," Marigold agreed.

Harry and Neville lit their wands and led the way. Marigold followed, pushing Lockhart ahead of her.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.

"Remember," Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…"

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave. The first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Neville stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and they saw that it was littered with small animal bones.

"Harry, there's something up there," Neville said, grabbing Harry by the shoulder.

Everyone froze, watching. Marigold could just make out the outline of something huge and curved, lying right ahead of them. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," Harry breathed.

Very slowly, Harry edged forward, his wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been forty feet long, at least.

"Blimey," Neville said weakly.

Lockhart's knees gave way and he fell to the floor in front of Neville.

"Get up," Neville said, moving his foot away from the groveling Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet, and before Marigold could react, he dove at Neville and grabbed for his wand. There were a few quick spells thrown around, a loud BOOM, and Lockhart was sent crashing into one wall, and Marigold into another.

Blinking, Marigold jumped up and saw that Neville had grabbed his wand back from a stunned Lockhart. Coughing, Marigold looked around for Harry but found a solid wall of broken rock.

"Harry!" Marigold exclaimed, rushing over to the rocks. "Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm here!" Harry's muffled voice answered. "I'm okay!"

"We can't get through!" Marigold called, searching the rock desperately.

"Wait here," Harry called. "Wait with Lockhart and Neville. I'll go on… If I'm not back in an hour…"

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," Marigold said, trying to keep her voice even. "When you come back, and you will come back, it will be clear."

"See you in a bit!" Harry said, his voice shaking but seemingly confidant.

Marigold wasn't panicking. She wasn't. It wasn't like she had marched off, half cocked, and failed her duty to Dumbledore. It wasn't like she had kidnapped a teacher and led Harry into the most dangerous situation ever. This was fine.

Marigold turned back to Neville and an unconscious Professor Lockhart. Neville was covered in dirt and looking very close to panicking. Marigold took a deep breath then spoke.

"You watch him first, I'm going to get this rock moved the best I can. Then we can switch."

Neville nodded and Marigold set to work. More and more time was ticking by and she was no closer to the other side. Marigold was desperate, her arms were screaming. She kept going, and going, and going.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and her eyes met Neville's.

"Let me try," he said quietly.

Marigold only nodded. Standing next to Lockhart, Marigold watched as Neville tried, more successfully than she had, to move the rocks. She should have been paying more attention, because if she had, she would have noticed Lockhart reaching for her wand.

Torture and Torment

Very suddenly, seven things happened in quick succession.

One, her wand was snatched out of her hand.

Two, Lockhart was wrapping his hand in her hair, and gripping it tight.

Three, he was digging her own wand deep into her neck.

Four, Lockhart's echoing laughter was unfamiliar and disturbing in Marigold's ears.

Five, Neville was lowering his wand, his face displaying his shock and fear.

Six, Neville was diving aside as a blast burst through the rock wall blasting it away.

Seven, Neville glowed blue for a second before seizing up and falling to the ground and Marigold's wand was back to her throat.

"Professor," Marigold whimpered, "what did you do?"

"You really should have let me modify your memories, girl," Lockhart growled in her ear.

"What did you do?" she repeated weakly.

Neville was looking at the two of them, motionless and petrified. Lockhart's hand was tangled in her hair and his grip was so tight that she couldn't move… not to mention her own wand was digging into her throat so much that it hurt to swallow her own spit.

"I can make the best of this situation," Lockhart said, more to himself than anything else. "Come on girl, let's go find Harry Potter and get out of here."

Lockhart tugged on her hair and she let out a cry of pain. He ignored her, and the two of them marched past Neville, whose eyes followed them as they passed.

"I can't leave Potter," Lockhart muttered. "No, no, we will just have to find him. Oh yes, use the girl, get the boy… spin the story… return a hero…"

Marigold knew she was stuck. One wrong move and he would either yank her hair so hard it would come out, or he wouldn't wait for Harry before cursing her. This was bad… This was really bad. She had gotten them all into the worst situation ever, and everything was going wrong!

Professor Lockhart kept them moving though every twist and turn of the tunnel. She had to do something, anything!

"Professor Lockhart, sir?" she asked, keeping her voice as non confrontational as possible.

"What?" he spat.

"Harry could be anywhere, and there's a giant basilisk down here. If you want, I could go find Harry and bring him back to you! You could stay here, with my wand, and not have to worry about a thing!"

Lockhart paused for a moment, as if thinking over her offer, then shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said. "You might gang up on me again. I think I'll just keep ahold of you, that way when we find Potter, he can't try anything funny."

"Very reasonable, sir," she said, wincing as he pulled her hair tighter in his fingers. "But what if-"

"Shut up," he hissed. "If you keep it up, I'll hurt you. Just keep walking, and when we find Potter, don't try anything funny."

They arrived at a large, round door. Marigold could tell that it had recently been opened, because the air coming from the other side seemed mustier. Nothing good was down the tunnel ahead of them. Professor Lockhart, however, didn't seem to share her worries because he pushed on through.

The air wasn't just musty, it felt wet… humid almost. Not long after passing through the door, they saw light coming from the other end. When they emerged, they found themselves on a bridge made of stone. Towering stone pillars, entwined with carved serpents, rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness. They cast black shadows through the odd greenish light that hung in the air. Marigold could hear water below them and everything smelled like mold.

On the other end of the large walkway, there was a giant statue seemingly carved out of the wall. It was an ancient wizard, with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of his sweeping stone robes. Two enormous grey feet rested on the chamber floor.

Even from this far away, Marigold could make out Ginny's red hair. She was face down between the statues feet, completely motionless. Two figures were standing on either side of her. One was Harry, and the other was an older student she didn't recognize. The green on his robes helped him blend in with the rest of the chamber.

Seemingly regaining his nerve, Professor Lockhart dragged her forward. Neither student noticed them as they advanced forward. Marigold was sure that Professor Lockhart felt he could handle the situation, but Marigold knew better. Something was completely off about this, and Lockhart had been disarmed by her super easily.

A loud rumbling noise came from in front of them, and Professor Lockhart froze again. The two of them watched as the statue's jaw started to unhinge. Lockharts grip on her hair loosened, and seizing the opportunity, Marigold whirled around. She felt her hair rip out of her scalp, but ignored the pain and made a grab for her wand.

The second it was in her hand, a loud thud echoed through the Chamber and Marigold got the feeling that something had fallen out of the statue's mouth. Professor Lockhart's eyes widened with shock and he fell backwards onto the wet floor.

She knew he was dead before he even began to fall, but she still bent down and tried to shake him awake. The bright eyes she had once found so attractive were glassy and dim. His usually handsome face was slack, his mouth agape with horror. A strange hissing noise filled the room and confirmed her suspicions.

Somehow, the two of them still hadn't been noticed. Harry and the Slytherin student must have been too preoccupied with each other, or maybe the basilisk had been in the way. Either way, hisses reverberated through the Chamber.

Marigold slowly turned around and found a pool of water in front of her. Through the reflection she could see the giant serpent thrashing about. Blood was flying about whichever way it flailed. For a split second, it's face was reflected in the water. It's eyes had somehow been gouged out.

Okay, the snake can't see, but Harry and the other student can… you can't stay out in the open.

She quickly turned back to Professor Lockhart, and, doing her best not to think about what she was doing, she placed a levitation charm on him. He began to hover about a foot off the ground, and Marigold grabbed his ankle and began to drag him behind her.

She crept forward, dragging Lockhart toward one of the pillars holding up the ceiling. The water below was loud enough that her footsteps were well masked.

She could hear Harry scrambling about up ahead, muttering wildly and crying out for help. The basilisk was rolling around and the other student was yelling in parseltongue, no doubt trying to give it orders.

She had to find a way to help Harry. She had to keep him safe, but she could only focus on one thing at a time right now, so she focused on getting Lockhart behind a pillar. It felt like hours before she was lowering him back to the ground.

Marigold peeked her head around the pillar just in time to see Harry nearly get swiped by the serpent's tail. Where was his wand? Harry began yelling at the other student. At least she assumed that's what he was doing because his words were just snake sounds. The other student just laughed in response.

She had to come up with a plan. She couldn't just stay hidden and watch. She was trying to figure out the best course of action, when a strange sound echoed through the chamber. It sounded like singing, but it wasn't a person making the sound. Flapping wings came next, and Marigold looked up and watched in amazement as Fawkes flew through the air toward Harry. The bird's red and gold plumage was a stark contrast to the dreary black and green of the Chamber.

Fawkes dropped a lumpy piece of fabric in Harry's lap before flying away again, nearly missing a bolt of green light. Marigold looked back down at Harry and was perplexed to see that the Sorting Hat was on his head.

Harry took off the hat almost as quickly as he had put it on. Marigold watched as he stuck his hand into the hat, and pulled out a glimmering, ruby hilted sword. She had no clue how a sword had been in the hat, but without his wand, the sword was Harry's best bet.

The other student was still screaming at the basilisk, but Harry looked more confident. The serpent lunged at Harry. Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. The sword clattered against stone, sending a chill down her spine.

Her wand was shaking in her hand, but she held on tight. She wanted to lunge out and help Harry, but the timing still wasn't right. She had to be smart about this.

The serpent lunged again and Harry raised the sword in both hands. It looked as though the serpent was trying to swallow him whole. Just as it was about to, and before she could take a step out of hiding, Harry drove the hilt into the roof of its mouth. When Harry pulled the sword out, Marigold saw that one of the fangs was in Harry's arm. Marigold couldn't feel her heart pounding in her chest anymore and was positive that it had stopped.

The serpent swayed for a moment then crashed to the floor with a thud that made the ground shake under her feet.

Harry slid down the chamber wall and ripped the fang out of his arm. Even from this far away, Marigold could see that blood was seeping into his robes and through his fingers. Marigold watched as the Slytherin student slowly walked toward Harry. Compared to the older student, Harry looked too young.

Fawkes flew over and landed by Harry's side. The other student sneered.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," the other student said with malicious glee. Marigold was too panicked about what he was saying to realize that he was speaking in English and not Parseltongue. "Dead," he repeated. "Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

Marigold covered her mouth just as a whimper escaped her. She could feel her legs threatening to buckle. He was dying. Her best friend was dying and she was hiding.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Harry was nodding off, blinking slowly. Marigold had one job, one, to protect Harry, and here she was watching him die.

"And so ends the famous Harry Potter. Alone, in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged."

The Dark Lord? This student wasn't Voldemort. He couldn't be. Marigold's mind started to clear up a little bit, and her hands stopped shaking. It was as if the revelation had shocked her out of an infinite loop.

"You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry. She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must!"

A quiet resolve washed over Marigold and she knew what to do. She still had to wait for the right moment, but she had a plan. She focused hard. She would only have one chance to do this. It would have to be soon, Harry wasn't looking too good.

"Get away bird," the Voldemort impersonator said suddenly, his voice agitated. "Get away from him- I said, get away-"

He lifted Harry's wand and a loud bang erupted, and Fawkes took flight again, disappearing into the unseen ceiling.

"Phoenix tears, of course, healing powers, I forgot… Oh well," he said with a shrug. "Makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter… you and me."

He raised the wand, and Marigold stepped out from behind the pillar.

Everte Statum!

The student stumbled and fell to the cold floor with a hiss of pain. She had what she wanted. His attention was on her.

"What's this? A little friend?" the student said turning to her and getting to his feet. "Oh-ho-ho, you must be Ginny's Mudblood sister, Marigold Rosenberg. Yes, she talked about you a lot," he said laughing. "What do you say Harry, you don't seem to be going anywhere quite yet, should I play with her before I kill the two of you?"

Harry, who hadn't known Marigold was there, tried to get up, but slumped back down to the Chamber floor, his eyes rolling a bit in his head. Marigold wished that she had had more time; Harry was in no condition to make a run for it. Fawkes may have stopped the bleeding and halted the poison's course, but Harry still needed time to regain his strength. Time for the plan. Just stall for time, Marigold.

"I don't know who you are, but get away from Harry!" Marigold cried, closing the gap between the two of them. Her wand was aimed at his heart.

"Just run away, Marigold!" Harry croaked.

"Oh, shush, Harry, I've been trapped in an adolescent diary for so long, let me have my fun. Alright girl, let's see what you've got."

He continued to keep his eyes on her, completely ignoring Harry. Though she kept her eyes on him, out of the corner of her eye she could see Harry getting some color back in his face.

"Ginny told me about your dueling skills. She was almost as impressed with you as she was with Harry speaking Parseltongue," he said as he made a ludicrous and mocking bow at her. Marigold didn't move. "Now then, show me what you've got, I'll even give you the first cast."

Marigold tried to disarm him, but he blocked her spell effortlessly.

"You are indeed fascinating, non-verbal magic at your age? It's no wonder Ginny speaks of you so fondly."

Marigold shot bolt of lightning from her wand, but he blocked that too.

"Advanced," he said laughing. "I've given you two chances Mudblood, but as I suspected, even though you are fun, you are no match for me."

He waved his wand and a bright red flash of light shot straight at her. Marigold tried to block, but the spell phased right through her shield and hit her full force in the chest.

Marigold dropped to the floor and began to writhe in pain. Bright lights danced in her eyes as she cried out for it to stop. Her body felt like it was on fire! Her insides felt like they were melting. She couldn't breathe because her lungs were mush.

Time stopped. The pain could have lasted forever… it could have never started. The pain was very real and at the same time it couldn't possibly be. This amount of pain couldn't possibly be inflicted upon a person. Her brain was on fire. She couldn't stand it anymore… she felt her body growing numb… the white lights turned to black spots.

And then it stopped.

The pain was gone as immediately as it began. Nothing lingered except her racking sobs and the feeling of the wet Chamber floor on her face.

"Tom, please!" Harry begged.

Her eyes began to refocus, the black spots fading away. Harry was right in front of her. He looked terrified. Marigold felt her wand in her hand and tried to push herself to her feet. She had to stall for more time. Harry wasn't ready to run yet… she needed more time.

"Look at this!" the boy named Tom laughed. "She's got some fight left, what fun!"

Marigold staggered but stayed standing. "Harry," she said, breathing hard. "You need to get out of here!"

"I can't!" he protested.

Marigold was wet from rolling around on the wet chamber floor. Her robes were sticking to her, and her hair was plastered to her neck with sweat. Tom was looking at her with amusement. Yeah, I'll give you a fun time. Just focus on me.

Marigold tried to disarm him again, but he laughed off her attempt. Harry was trying to get up, but he wasn't ready yet. Tom was just blocking her feeble attempts at an attack and looking like he was having the time of his life. How was it that a student only a few years older than her had such a gap? He was too good… he knew too much… just focus on time, Marigold.

"Harry, can-"

Red light shot out from Tom's wand, and Marigold stupidly tried to block again. It hit her in the stomach and she was on the floor again. She felt like her teeth were being torn out of her gums. Her skull felt like it was going to explode. She couldn't breathe because her insides were melting again. She begged for it to stop, but stars were dancing in her eyes and she couldn't focus.

She forgot her name. She forgot everything as wave after wave had her convulsing. Every breath hurt. Every breath was a scream.

The pain stopped and the cold, wet floor was her best friend. She closed her eyes for a moment and just laid still. Had she been on fire?

"Stop it, please!" someone begged.

She opened her eyes and a scruffy haired boy with bright green eyes was slumped against a wall in front of her. She felt like she knew him, but at the same time she didn't know anything.

"Awww," another voice whined. "But I'm having so much fun! It's been ages since I've actually had fun! I guess I could stop if you want me too, but I'll have to kill her." The voice was quite blasé, as if talking about killing her was no big deal.

Footsteps were coming toward her. She felt a shoe under her stomach, and suddenly she was on her back staring at a boy with handsome features. His dark eyes had a malice in them that she had never seen before.

The boy crouched down and grabbed her hair. She felt something being ripped out of her hand and heard it clatter and roll. She felt something hard digging into her temple and with a lurch she was staring at the green eyed kid.

"Do you still want me to stop having my fun?"

The kid didn't say anything. He just stared into her eyes, unblinking and very much afraid. She couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him and that there was something she was supposed to do.

"Tom," he whispered, tearing his eyes off hers. "Please."

"So be it," the older student said. He let go of her hair and her head hit the floor with a thunk.

When the white spots finally disappeared, she saw a long stick pointed between her eyes.

"No wait!" a voice cried out, it was shrill enough to shatter glass. "Have your fun, just don't kill her! Please don't kill her!" he begged.

Another wave of red light washed over her, accompanied by maniacal laughter.

Her skin felt like it was being peeled back and her muscles exposed to the biting air. As she convulsed on the floor, it's coolness was no longer refreshing. She threw up, and began to gag, but another wave of pain made her curl up and she could breathe.

The pain finally stopped, and her sobs filled the crevices of the room her screams had just occupied.

"Look at her, disgusting Mudblood bitch." The voice was trying to talk over her whimpering. "Damn it all, I'm bored again! Even if I gave her her wand back it wouldn't make things interesting. Look at her, she's useless. Ah well, say your goodbyes, Harry."

"No!"

A rush of wings made the boy standing over her look up. Spots danced in her eyes, and she watched as something fell into the green eyed boy's lap. It could have been anything, she was too exhausted and dizzy to care. The two boys exchanged a tense look before the one on the floor grabbed a gigantic fang and plunged it into the object in his hand.

There was a long piercing scream, and for a moment she thought it was her, but the pain wasn't there. Her attacker was twisting and screaming and flailing like she had just been. And then, suddenly, he was gone.

The wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was only the sound of her heavy breathing. The kid dropped the fang and scrambled over to her, grabbing her hand. She felt her eyes roll back and everything went black.

"Do you think you can carry her?" a voice echoed through the blackness. "We shouldnt stay here."

"I don't know," a hesitant voice answered. "Maybe with a hovering charm…"

"Is she d-dead?" someone sobbed.

"No, she's still breathing."

"She passed out fifteen minutes ago," someone explained.

Someone was holding her in a tight embrace. She was being rocked gently and her cheek was pressed against robes that smelled like cinnamon and sweat. She had a splitting headache and her throat felt like it was in shreds.

"Ginny, do you think you can walk?"

As they talked, her memory started coming back to her. The basilisk, Tom, Harry!

Marigold opened her eyes with a start. She blinked up at Neville who looked down at her with alarm.

"Marigold?" he asked. "She's awake," he laughed, looking up again.

Marigold felt herself being pulled into another hug. Neville looked like he didn't want to let go, but Ginny wasn't exactly letting go. Ginny was sobbing uncontrollably into her hair. Marigold turned to look at Harry and was relieved to see that all the color was back in his face.

"-Tried to tell-" Ginny was blubbering. "-it was me- but I d-didn't mean to- T-Tom made me- took me over- all my fault!"

Marigold patted Ginny's hands that were wrapped around her stomach.

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wailed. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts for forever, and now I'll have to leave and- w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"

"You won't be expelled, it's not your fault," Harry said.

"But you both nearly d-died!"

Marigold's head hurt.

"We need to get out of here," Harry said.

Marigold nodded. Harry helped Ginny to her feet. Marigold managed to get up, but promptly lost all the food in her stomach. Even if she had the Jelly legs jinx on her, her legs would still be working better than they were now.

Harry grabbed both of their wands up off the floor. He also tucked the sword, the Sorting Hat, and the small diary into his robes. Marigold tried walking by herself, but ended up needing to lean on Neville for support.

The three of them made their way to the Chamber entrance where Fawkes was waiting for them over the coils of the dead basilisk. Marigold paused a moment next to Gilderoy Lockhart's body.

Ginny screamed and buried her head in Harry's chest. Harry's eyes grew wide. Marigold had completely forgotten about him. She realized why Neville wasn't frozen in the tunnel anymore. When she looked closer, she noticed that Lockhart had a clump of her red hair in his hand. Marigold promptly buckled over, dry heaving.

When she was done, she watched herself raise her wand. She watched as Lockhart levitated off the ground. She looked away as he floated behind them as they left the chamber.

The three of them made their way through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Marigold heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes of making their way down the dark tunnel, Marigold stumbling along, her legs still not properly working, they found the clearing Lockhart had made.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Ginny whimpered.

Harry shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix jumped off of his shoulder and was fluttering in front of him waving his long golden tail feathers.

"He looks like he wants us to grab hold,' Harry said. Marigold didn't question it.

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, Ginny grabbed Marigold"s, and Marigold held on tighter to Neville. They left Lockhart, none of them wanted to touch him.

Harry reached out and grabbed onto Fawkes tail feathers. The moment he did, Marigold felt a strange lightness in her body. The next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. The chill air was whipping through her hair and her body seemed to relax. Before they knew it, they were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and watched as Fawkes dove back down the pipe.

Marigold heavily debated just staying on the floor, but Fawkes returned, and gently lowered Lockhart onto the floor too close to her for comfort and she decided the floor wasn't for her anymore. As soon as she swayed to her feet, the sink decided that that moment was the moment to close back up again.

Myrtle was goggling at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly at Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping blood and slime off his glasses.

Ginny let go of Harry and grabbed onto Marigold who let out a soft moan as Ginny crushed her ribs. Marigold wouldn't be surprised if Ginny's knuckles were white where they were clenched around her back. Marigold had to keep a conscious effort not to buckle under her own weight, let alone Ginny's.

"I didn't know what had happened when I could suddenly move again." Neville said, breaking the silence. "I wandered around a lot not knowing where to go. Until I heard screaming, what happened in there?"

"Not now," Harry said, motioning toward Ginny.

So Ginny had still been unconscious and Neville hadn't made it to the chamber when everything had happened. Good…

"What now?" Ginny blubbered.

Harry pointed toward Fawkes. They followed Fawkes's glowing gold light along the corridor. Moments later, they found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry knocked, and then, thinking better of it, pushed open the door.

There Will Always be More

For a moment there was silence as Marigold, Ginny, Harry, and Neville stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime, and, in Harry and Marigold's case, blood. Then, there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves at Ginny. Marigold backed up and found herself staring at a beaming Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall was standing next to him, taking great, steadying gasps and clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past them and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder.

Marigold then felt herself being pulled into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace, followed by Mrs. Weasley grabbing at Harry and Neville who joined in the hug.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we would all like to know that," Professor McGonagall said weakly.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Neville and Harry but kept a tight hold on Marigold and Ginny, as if they were tethering her to the planet. After a deep breath, Harry walked over to the desk and laid the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword, and what remained of Tom Riddle's diary on top. So that's what he had stabbed.

He then started telling the room everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence. He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Marigold had figured out he was hearing a basilisk; how he and Neville had followed the spiders into the Forbidden Forest while Marigold was in the hospital wing, and that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how they had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber ended up in her bathroom…

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "so you found out where the entrance was- breaking a hundred school rules along the way, I might add- but how on earth did you all get out of there alive?"

Marigold swayed as she tried to stand. Dumbledore had a look on his face, but she ignored it. Her voice was quiet and hoarse, she hadn't spoken since she had challenged Tom, and since then she had done a lot of screaming.

It hurt to talk, her throat felt like it had been ripped to shreds, but Marigold began to tell her side of the story. Harry joined in when the two stories connected. Marigold avoided telling the room how her and Lockhart got into the Chamber, she could tell Dumbledore about that later, when they were alone. Neville didn't correct her either. Harry continued from there, telling how Marigold had saved his life by causing Tom to stop paying attention to him while he gathered his strength.

Harry paused and looked at Marigold, neither one knew how to explain the next part. Marigold shook her head, she would tell Dumbledore about that later too. Thankfully, Harry understood, and skipped past how she and Tom had dueled. Nobody but Dumbledore seemed to realize there was more to the story than the two were sharing.

Harry continued talking, but after a few more minutes, he had gone as far as he could without mentioning the diary. Marigold understood his hesitance. What if they inadvertently got Ginny expelled. The diary didn't work anymore, so they couldn't prove that Tom had done anything at all.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled back at him knowingly.

"What interests me," Dumbledore said gently, taking over, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when all my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania."

"Wha-what's that?" Mr. Weasley said in a stunned voice. Mrs. Weasley pulled Ginny closer to her. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny hasn't been… has she?"

"It was this diary," Harry said quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "He wrote in it when he was sixteen…"

Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down at the soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, here at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… traveled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said, looking up. "What's our Ginny got to do with- with him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been writing back all year-"

"Ginny!" Mr. Weasley said, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain! Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic-"

"I d-didn't know," Ginny sobbed. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it-"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he said, twinkling down at Ginny. "You will all find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out the Mandrake juice- I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment now.

Mrs. Weasley helped Ginny up and led her out, followed closely by Mr. Weasley, who still looked deeply shaken.

Once the door closed behind the Weasleys, Dumbledore turned to Marigold, Harry, and Neville in turn.

"Now is the time to tell me everything you didn't say earlier," he said, crossing back over to the desk.

"Dumbledore, I hardly think they would have-"

"Professor Lockhart is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor," Marigold croaked, interrupting Professor McGonagall.

Marigold then told them what she had left out originally. How the three of them had gone to talk to Lockhart, how they had wanted to give him the information they knew. How they had found him running away, and that he had wanted to erase their memories. How Marigold had disarmed him, and they had taken him with them down to the Chamber. Marigold paused, not sure how to continue the story.

"He dove at my wand, there was a scuffle, and when it was over, Harry was behind some fallen rocks, and the three of us on the other side," Neville said, taking Marigold's hand. "Lockhart was unconscious, and Harry had gone further into the Chamber. We were moving the rocks, when…" Neville choked up.

Marigold took back over, telling how she hadn't been paying enough attention and Lockhart grabbed her wand and her hair. How he had wanted to get Harry, get out of there, wipe their memory, and leave Ginny behind. How, when they got into the Chamber, he had frozen out of panic and she had watched him die.

Professor McGonagall put her hand on her mouth and sank back down into her chair.

"There's more, isn't there?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Professor McGonagall shot Dumbledore a look as if to say what more could they have possibly gone through?

Marigold let out a breath. For some reason when she spoke again it sounded like it was someone else in the room talking, not her. "I- Tom didn't notice us- so I pulled Lockhart behind a pillar and watched everything happen. I knew if I moved, Tom would kill me, so I stayed put. But then, when Harry killed the basilisk, he got bit. Fawkes healed him, but Tom was going to kill him. I used that moment to distract Tom, try and get Harry a bit of time to get away…" Marigold trailed off.

Dumbledore was looking at her, and Marigold found she couldn't go on. Her stomach was churning, and she doubled over trying not to puke. Neville held onto her arm, as Marigold did her best not to retch on McGonagall's nice office carpet.

"Tom said he was going to have fun before killing us," Harry said. "That he'd been trapped in a diary and had been so bored for so long."

McGonagall had set a bin in front of Marigold, who was dry heaving into it. Neville was gently rubbing her back.

"The two of them faced off. I was still out of it, so Marigold went first, but she was no match for him. Then he- I don't know what spell it was, but Marigold, sh-she-"

Marigold finally found some food in her stomach to upturn.

"Do you remember the spell?" McGonagall tried, hopefully.

Marigold spat the last of her bile into the bin. Her knuckles were white around the rim.

"Neither of them uttered a word," Harry said, looking at Marigold. "But red light hit her and after that she…"

"I've never felt more pain in my life," Marigold whispered into the bin.

"Dumbledore, you don't thin-"

Marigold was suddenly looking at Dumbledore. He was crouched down next to her, gently lifting her face to look at him, his eyes wild.

"How many times?" he gently, but urgently asked.

"I-I don't know, it felt like an eternity."

"Three times," Harry said.

Neville was looking between Harry and Marigold frantically.

Dumbledore stood up. "Harry, let me see your wand."

"I begged him to stop, but he said he'd kill her when he stopped," Harry said, handing over his wand.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Harry's and muttered something Marigold couldn't hear. Marigold's knees were weak and she felt them buckling under her. Neville was doing his best to keep her upright. He felt sturdy and she realized how bad she was shaking.

Dumbledore seemed to have gotten an answer from Harry's wand, but how, Marigold didn't know.

"Mr. Longbottom, could you please take Marigold down to the Hospital Wing at once, she should have gone straight there," Dumbledore said.

Neville, still confused, nodded.

"Minerva, please go tend to Lockhart, that is a situation we can't leave alone any longer."

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, what spell was it?" Harry asked, urgently.

"An unforgivable one," Dumbledore said, handing Harry his wand back.

Neville froze beside her, and Professor McGonagall, who had been strutting toward the door on a mission, froze as well. Without a sound, Professor McGonagall composed herself and hurried toward Professor Lockhart.

Harry walked over to Marigold and gently grabbed her other arm. Neville came out of his daze and the two of them helped her to the door.

"Harry, if you would stay a moment," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked from Marigold to Neville and they both just nodded. As the door closed behind them, Marigold halfheartedly wondered why Dumbledore was having Harry stay.

Marigold had been running on pure adrenaline, but with the danger gone, and having reported to Dumbledore, she could feel herself slowing down until she came to a complete stop. Marigold felt her legs swaying and fell forward. Neville, unable to keep her upright, fell with her. Her knees hit hard, but she didn't notice, she just clung to Neville's robes. Raking sobs echoed through the corridor.

Neville just held her close as she cried, awkwardly patting her tangled and damp hair.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice seemed scared. Marigold couldn't stop crying. "Marigold. Hey, it's ok, it's over now, come on we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

His voice was as shaky as hers had been earlier. Marigold tried to stop crying but couldn't. Her chest was burning and she couldn't breathe. She wanted to run, just run through the halls of Hogwarts, run far away. But she couldn't move!

"Marigold," Neville said, grabbing her face from his robes and making her look at him. Through her blurry eyes he looked really scared. He was going in and out of focus. His face getting bigger and smaller with each breath she took.

"Marigold, do you know who I am?" he asked desperately.

She didn't answer right away; her words were not there.

"Goldie?" He was pleading with her.

"Of-of course I-I do."

"Then you are going to be okay."

"How can y-you be s-sure?" she sobbed.

"Because you know who I am. If you weren't going to be okay, you wouldn't know who I am."

"Th-that doesn't make any s-sense." She wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

Neville pulled her into his shoulder, he was shaking just as much as she was.

"My parents are in the Hospital."

Marigold was confused. She didn't know what to say. Nothing was making sense. She wanted to get up. She didn't want to be here anymore! But he was saying something important!

"Gran hasn't told me all the details, she keeps saying she'll tell me more when I'm older. But I know enough." Neville was shaking a little and he had a desperate urgency to his voice. Marigold was trying so hard to focus, but her heart was beating so fast he was hard to hear. "It was right after You-Know-Who's downfall. Some of his followers hadn't accepted that he was gone yet, so they got together and tried to get information out of my parents. They used the Cruciatus curse on my parents, and it made them crazy. So, they live in St Mungo's Hospital now, and I live with my Gran."

"N-Neville, I-"

"When Dumbledore said that it was an unforgivable spell… I think it was the same one… with all the screaming I heard…" Neville trailed off. "They don't remember who they are, let alone who I am. But you remember… so I think- I think you are going to be okay."

Marigold didn't have a clue what to say to him so she just hugged him again. She felt better though, but miserable at the same time. Neither of them said anything for a long time. Neville just let her hug him and cry. At some point she stopped crying, and they still didn't say a word.

"Thank you, Nev," She finally muttered into his shoulder.

It wasn't enough, she wanted to say more, she wanted to tell him she was sorry about his parents, that she was thankful he was her friend, that she appreciated him talking to her not just because it made her feel better, but because he confided in her.

"Let's get you to the hospital wing," he said.

The two of them walked into chaos. Well, Neville half carried her into chaos. Marigold's eyes were still unfocused and she still couldn't quite carry herself, but she could kind of see all the petrified students milling about the wing. Colin, Justin, and Penelope were all talking excitedly, and Hermione was over with the Weasleys who were crowded around Ginny's bed.

Madam Pomfrey noticed them first, and bustled over to them and gently took Marigold's other hand. Marigold just followed, she was too tired. Dumbledore had probably somehow sent word to the matron about what had happened.

Marigold didn't want to let go of Neville's hand, but Madam Pomfrey assured her that he wasn't going to leave and that he would be right outside the curtain. Marigold finally agreed and Madam Pomfrey closed the curtain around Marigold and a bed. As she helped Marigold into some warm, clean, white cotton pajamas, Marigold hissed when raising her arms.

"You have a big bruise on your back with lots of tiny cuts," Madam Pomfrey said quietly.

"Slammed into a rock wall," Marigold mumbled.

"Your scalp is bleeding."

"Hair was ripped out."

"I'll be right back with something to make you feel better. I'll let Mr. Longbottom in." Her voice was gentle and her eyes were kind.

Marigold nodded. The sheets were warm and soft. Madam Pomfrey disappeared. Marigold closed her eyes, but felt the hard floor of the Chamber and opened them again. Neville was sitting next to her with a nervous smile on his face.

Madam Pomfrey gave her so many tonics and rubbed an ointment that smelled like fresh cut pine trees on her back. She even had a small basin of warm, soapy, pink water which she washed Marigold's hair in. That stung so much, Marigold's eyes watered. At some point during this process, the craziness of the Hospital Wing had stopped and a peaceful quiet had settled.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked absentmindedly.

"Dumbledore called for a feast. It seems he has a few announcements to make," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Could we go?"

"Well, Mr. Longbottom could go, and other than the bruise on your back and a small patch on your scalp, which are already healing, you have no other physical injuries." But Madam Pomfrey had a sad look on her face. "But with what I've been told, it seems there might be some scarring that even I can't see or heal."

Marigold nodded.

"My dear, there isn't any potion or any ointment I could give you to treat an Unforgivable Curse." Madam Pomfrey sat down next to Marigold and took her hand very gently. She had tears in the corners of her eyes. "The pain may be gone, but it won't be forgotten."

Madam Pomfrey handed Marigold one last potion, one Marigold recognized as a sleeping drought.

"Would you like me to stay with you?" Neville asked.

"You should go to the feast, I'm just going to be sleeping anyway," Marigold said.

"I'll talk to Harry, let him know how you are," Neville said, making no moves toward the door.

Marigold tipped the vial back and found herself in a dreamless sleep.

Neville didn't go to the feast. The only time he got up was when he was sure she was asleep and it was just to go wash her blood off his hands and go back to her bedside. He stayed there until the next morning when Madam Pomfrey woke him up and kicked him out saying Marigold had another visitor. Grumbling, he went off to talk to Harry, to tell him everything he had been avoiding saying up until then.

Marigold woke up to the high ceiling of the Hospital Wing. She felt better, rested, safe. She had forgotten how nice it was to be able to breathe. A movement out of the corner of her eye alerted her that someone was there. Dumbledore was sitting next to her, reading the Daily Prophet.

"I did my best to keep him alive," Marigold said, looking back at the ceiling. Her voice was still scratchy.

"You did well," Dumbledore said, she heard him put down the paper.

"Someone died."

"True."

"I'll be expelled, right?" Marigold asked.

"I have written to the Minister of Magic and all other authorities on the matter. None of you will be expelled. Lockhart's death was an accident, and though the circumstances weren't in your favor, no repercussions will come of it.

"Everyone has concluded, with a little bit of ethical and mental wiggling along with some lies, that Lockhart died trying to protect the three of you from a basilisk. The only few who know the truth have agreed to this."

Marigold found that she wasn't even remotely surprised and agreed as well.

"My dear girl, I'm afraid I must ask more of you."

Marigold lazily turned her head to face Dumbledore, his eyes looked sad.

"You are still so young, and I do wish we didn't have to have this conversation until you were older. I didn't plan to have this conversation for some time; but my dear, bad things are happening and bad things are going to happen in the future."

"Voldemort isn't gone, is he?" Marigold asked, thinking back to Dumbledore's comment about Albania.

"I don't believe he ever was," Dumbledore said.

"What more can I do?"

"You have a rare, fierce loyalty, Marigold Rosenberg. I asked you to watch over and protect your friend, and you did. Knowing the consequences, you saved his life. That kind of dedication is hard to come by, harder yet at your young age.

"You have also aligned yourself with probably the most difficult person to stay that loyal to; the most difficult person to protect. Harry is going to face danger far worse than this for the rest of his life. Your selflessness to keep him alive will crop up again and again. That's just part of being next to Harry Potter."

"Are you asking me if I would do it over again?" Marigold interrupted, confused with what Dumbledore was getting at.

"I already know that you would. I'm telling you that you will have to do more in the future."

Marigold thought back to the Chamber. She had known from the beginning that if she moved Tom would kill her. She had been scared, but she had also been strategic. She had waited until the right moment to make her presence known.

"When Voldemort comes back, as you say he inevitably will, how am I supposed to protect Harry," Marigold said, tracing the pattern on her sheets. "Doing what I did only bought time, it didn't really save him."

"Then buy time. Fight for him. Keep him alive."

Marigold looked up at Dumbledore and didn't say anything for a long moment.

"This is why you've been giving me the books about dueling and nonverbal magic, isn't it?"

"I have known what kind of person you are from our first interaction, my dear. Harry is connected to Voldemort in some way, and you are connected to Harry. Although I can't say I know why that connection is there, I do know that it is important. Harry will need you next to him every step of the way."

So much information was swimming around in her head. Dumbledore got up, taking the paper with him.

"I'll leave you to rest, or Poppy might have my head."

Dumbledore turned to leave, but Marigold called out as he reached out to the curtain.

"Why did you tell me all of this? Even if you hadn't, I would have watched over him. He's my best friend."

"That's exactly why I told you."

After Dumbledore left, Madam Pomfrey kept everyone from visiting, and Marigold was grateful. Although she was feeling better, at least physically, her brain was somewhere else.

Two scenes kept playing over in her head and she didn't know which one scared her more. One was in the past, and though it was excruciating, it was over. The other promised unforeseen pain in the future.

Dumbledore had all but come out and said that she might… not might… will have to do more in the future. Marigold was probably going to die for Harry in the future... Dumbledore was right of course; if faced with the choice, she would die for Harry, Neville too. She had asked herself that before, and though she said yes, the gravity of it hadn't been real until now. Everyone says they would die for the people they love… but with real pain and misery behind her as consequences to her actions? She could now say that she would do it again. She didn't have to imagine a scenario anymore. Now, when Dumbledore tells her to watch over Harry, she knows what she's agreed to.

Instead of protecting him from a troll or helping him get through other dangerous situations, now she knew the consequences of facing off with someone who actually, actively wanted, and would try to kill the two of them. She had been in a real duel and it was so different from anything she had expected.

Marigold didn't know about unforgivable curses. In all of her books she had seen jinxes, hexes, curses even. And even though some of them were really bad, like the one that momentarily sucked all the air out of the lungs, or caused blood to leak out of the eyes for temporary blindness, none of them were as bad as the one she had endured at the hands of Tom Riddle… Voldemort. How does one even prepare for a curse that can't be blocked? What other Unforgivable Curses were out there?

Marigold stayed in the Hospital Wing until the next morning. Madam Pomfrey was sure that Marigold was doing better enough to leave, but told her not to keep anything to herself and talk to an adult if she needed to. She gave her clean robes to change into and then let Marigold go.

When Marigold climbed through the portrait hole, she found herself engulfed in hugs. Hermione and Ginny were hugging her so tight that she could barely breathe. Fred, George, and Ron were next. Even Percy gave her a hug.

Nobody asked her any questions, though she could tell they wanted to. When everyone was done, Marigold saw Harry and Neville across the room. Everyone was quiet, watching as the three of them ran into each other's arms. For the first time in what felt like years, Marigold smiled.

A flash of light broke through their embrace and Marigold looked up to see mousy-faced Colin Creevey grinning behind a camera. He didn't rush up for a hug and was surprised when Marigold was wrapping her arms around his neck.

"It's good to have you back," Marigold said, beaming.

Marigold woke up the next morning groggy and not fully aware of what was going on. She grabbed her planner and looked down at the flashing letters on the front of it. For the first time since living with her father, she didn't want to do magic. It was time for exams, and she was so ill prepared.

After a long debate with herself over whether or not she should just stay in bed until it was time to go home on the Hogwarts Express, she ultimately swung her legs out of bed clinging to the hope that at the very least the teachers would grade them easily, given the hectic year they had all faced.

Everyone in the Great Hall looked like they hadn't slept in weeks. Marigold felt horrible for the fifth and seventh years who had two weeks of important and life changing exams ahead of them while she, Harry, and Neville along with all the other years only had a week of normal exams.

Hermione and the other students who had been petrified had been excused from exams, something Hermione seemed almost sad about. However, Marigold could see her breathing down Ron's neck on the other side of the hall for not following her schedule while she was in the hospital wing.

Marigold stared down at her jam toast and felt her stomach roll. Professor McGonagall had said that exams were the only reason they were keeping the school open, but her heart wasn't in it.

Marigold looked up at Neville and Harry. The two of them looked just as miserable as she did.

Just like last year, the exams were split up between a practical and a written, and the houses were split up with two taking the practical and the other two taking the written.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was first. It seemed like the teachers wanted to get this exam out of the way. It was very somber in the exam room while everyone answered the questions that Professor Lockhart had written up. Some of the questions were even about the material they covered.

The practical was very simple, they had to get a Cornish Pixy into a cage. Marigold was nearly in tears when she walked out of the exam room. She wasn't the only one but not everyone seemed as broken up about his death as she was.

Even though he had put her own wand to her neck and wanted to wipe her memory, Marigold still felt responsible for his death. Why had they gone to his office anyway? To give him information about the Chamber? They should have just left him to run away when they realized that's what was happening. But noooo they had to challenge him, piss him off, and essentially kidnap him at wandpoint.

They should have just left him. They could have just left him. Why didn't they just leave him?

Marigold had always thought he was an idiot, why bring him into the Chamber with them? He had obviously been a liability. Next time- oh god, there was going to be a next time- next time she would have to be smarter. They could have died because she ordered him to go with them. She was going to have to be more strategic if she was going to keep Harry alive and safe.

The Transfiguration practical was next, they had to transform a bird into a goblet, Marigold managed to get a perfect goblet, except it didn't make a nice ringing noise when Professor McGonagall ran her finger around the rim.

Lunch was next, and Marigold, Harry, and Neville grabbed sandwiches and walked out to the lake to eat. Marigold flopped down on the grass next to Neville, putting her arm over her eyes and stuffing a sandwich into her face.

"This sucks," Marigold mumbled through her sandwich that tasted like nothing.

"Did you hear that Lucius Malfoy was sacked as school governor?" Harry asked.

"No wonder Malfoy is extra sulky," she said.

"I didn't get the chance to tell you yesterday when I told Neville, but I saw Dobby again when I was talking to Dumbledore."

Marigold removed her arm; the sun blinded her for a moment. Harry had a grin on his face. Neville was chuckling into his sandwich.

"Don't keep me waiting, tell me!"

"Remember how Dumbledore wanted to talk to me for another moment?" Harry asked, finishing his lunch. "Lucius Malfoy strutted in, looking all high and mighty. He wanted to know why Dumbledore was back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore said that everyone thought Ginny had died, and they wanted him back immediately, they also seemed to think that Mr. Malfoy had threatened their families.

"The two of them just talked while Dobby kept motioning to Mr. Malfoy and Tom Riddle's diary. I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, but I think Mr. Malfoy put the diary in Ginny's cauldron that day he and Mr. Weasley got into that fight. It was then that I had a brilliant thought."

Harry's eyes glistened.

"I took the diary and wrapped it in my sock and gave it back to Mr. Malfoy. He tossed the sock aside and Dobby caught it! Mr. Malfoy accidentally freed Dobby, which he wasn't very happy about."

"That's amazing Harry!" Marigold exclaimed.

The rest of the exams went by in a blur, and soon enough Marigold and the boys were spending their days waiting for the results and enjoying the sun. With exams out of the way, Marigold was doing her best to keep herself occupied. If she let her mind wander, she would start feeling as though she was watching herself do things instead of doing them. And the guilt...

Marigold could feel Harry and Neville keeping an eye on her. Unlike Harry, who was kind of annoying about it, Neville was very covert on how he was trying to cheer her up. Harry would constantly ask how she was doing, but Neville was a lot better about it. Whenever she found herself spiraling, she would suddenly find Neville talking to her about absolutely nothing. His help and sly method of doing so didn't escape her, and she was very thankful.

Marigold had missed Hagrid's return during the feast, and with exams she hadn't had time to go see him. But the first free day they got, the three of them made their way to go visit.

It was good to have him back. To the three of them, he made Hogwarts more like home.

They finally got their results back having passed everything. Marigold had passed with flying colors again, Harry had done adequate in everything, and Neville had scraped by in some and done exceptionally well in others. Marigold was relieved. That night there was one last feast where it was revealed that Gryffindor had won the House Cup for the second year in a row, thanks, in large part, to Marigold, Harry, and Neville.

Then, all too soon, they were loaded up on the Hogwarts Express hurdling back to platform nine and three quarters. Everyone had hung out in the same compartment for a big chunk of the train ride, but eventually everyone trickled out to say goodbye to friends and wish them a happy summer.

Marigold was leaning against the window with her feet poking Neville, and Harry was stuffing his face with a sugar quill when a huffy Colin Creevey came running into their compartment.

"I didn't get the chance before because they didn't finish in time, but these are for you!" Colin stuffed three envelopes into their hands, and rushed off. "See you next year!"

The three of them opened their envelopes and found a moving picture of the three of them laughing and hugging in the common room.

Marigold smiled, and, wordlessly, shrunk her photo and put it in the locket around her neck.

The train came to a stop and the three of them jumped. They had all been wordlessly appreciating the photos. The three of them scrambled to grab their things and make it off the train.

"You'll write again, won't you?" Neville asked, setting down his trunk.

"Of course," Marigold said, wrapping an arm around his neck and one around Harry's.

"Without Dobby stealing my mail? Obviously," Harry said.

The three of them laughed, and together, they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.