Chapter Twenty-Five: Into the Wild

"Hagrid?"

Susan was staring at Victoria, her face incredulous. "You can't be serious."

"It's what I saw," Victoria said with a shrug. The two of them were in the Entrance Hall, surrounded by the entire Second Year as they waited to leave on their field trip. The noise was incredible, the boisterous, excited chatter of seventy students echoing off the rafters; there was no risk of being overheard. "I know it sounds silly—there's a reason I didn't tell you straight away. But… it does kinda make sense. I found a book on acromantula in the library, and the bite marks match. Plus, their venom makes it difficult to stop the bleeding, so that fits too…"

"It's just… it's Hagrid," Susan said, fiddling with a plait. "He's not exactly the image of a pure-blood heir, is he?"

Victoria snorted. "Well, no. But he did get expelled. That must have been for something."

"I guess," Susan said. "Everyone knows about that, though. Why wouldn't they arrest him, if they already knew he was the Heir? It doesn't make sense."

"They'd still need proof," Victoria said, thinking out loud. "Did the Ministry people question him, when they were doing their investigation? Maybe they couldn't prove it."

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden hush, and Victoria looked up to see that the teachers had arrived. Professor Lockhart was at their head, dressed in his favourite lilac robes and smiling broadly, and next to him was the scowling figure of Professor Snape. Behind them loomed Hagrid, an enormous crossbow resting on his shoulder.

Victoria and Susan shared a look.

"He's coming too?" Susan whispered. "What are the chances?"

Victoria eyed the giant man speculatively. Could he really be the Heir of Slytherin? It seemed so unlikely. Noticing her gaze, Hagrid waved to her cheerfully; she forced a smile and waved back.

"Let's keep an eye on him," Susan said under her breath. "See what we can find out."

Victoria looked at her sharply. "Are you crazy? If he's the Heir, we should be staying out of his way!"

"But—"

"GOOD MORNING!" came Lockhart's voice, magically magnified by a Sonorus Charm. "DOES EVERYONE HAVE THEIR TENTS AND WANDS?"

The crowd of students issued a low murmur of assent.

"EXCELLENT! OFF TO THE CARRIAGES, THEN!"

The crowd broke as everyone pushed towards the main entrance. Victoria hung back, craning her neck as she tried to find the other Slytherin girls. Susan stuck with her, wringing her hands and glancing nervously towards the door.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "See you on the other side? I think Hannah's waiting for you."

"Thanks," said Susan, looking relieved. "Good luck!" She rushed to meet up with her fellow Hufflepuffs—like Victoria, she would be sharing a tent with the girls from her dorm.

The Slytherin girls found Victoria shortly after. With the passing of Easter, they were all dressed in Hogwarts' summer uniform—a white dress robe checkered with green, with long, loose sleeves, buttons down to the waist, and a hem which fell a couple of inches above their knees.

"There you are!" Daphne said. "Hold this, will you? My arms are killing me."

She swung a long, thin bag into Victoria's arms, the sound of metal poles jangling from within—their tent. For such a small bag, it was surprisingly heavy.

As Victoria grappled with the bag, Pansy was looking her up and down. "Are you sure bare legs was a good idea? It's still April."

A glance at Pansy's, Daphne's and Tracey's legs confirmed that all three were wearing sheer tights. She shrugged. "Feels warm enough to me."

"Well, it's too late to change now, anyway," Tracey said. "Come on, or we'll miss our carriage!"

They joined the back of the crowd waiting to leave. The tent was already beginning to make Victoria's arms ache; she shifted it around, trying to get comfortable. "God, Daphne, what's in this thing?"

Daphne looked sideways at Victoria. "Oh, nothing special," she said breezily. "It's a standard one-man tent, I'm afraid, so its going to be a bit of a tight fit—it doesn't even have a bathroom. Daddy got it for me a few years ago, when we went hiking in the Andes, but I think I've outgrown it."

Victoria looked down at the bag suspiciously. If the tent was so modest, why was it so heavy? "I think the Featherweight Charm needs a bit of work."

Pansy snorted. "Well, we'll be fine once we're in the carriage."

Of course, Pansy wasn't carrying anything other than a small handbag. Tracey, however, was clutching a bulging leather backpack to her chest.

"What's in the bag?" Victoria asked.

Tracey grinned. "Got it off the Weasleys last night. I've got cauldron cakes, Drooble's gum, some Honeydukes chocolate…"

As she listed a quantity of snacks sufficient to feed a small army, they passed through the front entrance into the bright sun of Hogwarts' front lawn. A horseless carriage was waiting for them, and Daphne helped Victoria get the tent onto the carriage roof before they clambered inside.

Tracey was still going strong. "...some pepper imps—I'm not a fan of those, but they make good dares—and lots of pumpkin pasties. Plus there's enough butterbeer for two bottles each… I tried to get more, but they didn't have much left…"

The carriage lurched into motion with the clip-clop of disembodied hooves, and they picked up speed surprisingly quickly. Soon they were rocketing down Hogwarts' drive, far faster than the carriages normally travelled, fast enough that every single bump in the path jolted through them, threatening to knock the girls from the wooden benches within.

"What's going on?" Pansy cried from her position opposite Victoria. Her hands were gripping the bench tightly and she had to shout over the whistling of the wind. "Why are we going so fast?"

The jolting of the carriage stopped abruptly, the ride becoming disconcertingly smooth. They were still moving just as quickly, with trees whizzing past them as they hurtled down the driveway, but all sensation of motion had disappeared.

The cause of the change quickly became clear: without warning, the carriage began to tilt upwards, Victoria's stomach lurching as they rose into the air. With a shriek, Pansy slipped off her seat and tumbled forwards, landing awkwardly in Victoria's arms, knocking the breath out of her with an elbow to the stomach.

Next to them, Daphne was staring out the window with wide eyes. "We're flying!"

"No shit!" Tracey shouted. Unlike Pansy, she'd managed to brace her feet against the bench under Daphne, keeping herself from falling off her seat.

With a lot of flailing limbs, Pansy managed to scramble back onto her side of the carriage, adopting the same strategy as Tracey to stay there. "They could have told us!"

Eventually the carriage levelled off, allowing the girls to return to a more stable seating arrangement. Victoria looked out of the window, feeling a bit dizzy as she glanced down. They were sailing through the air, the lake beneath them, its deep blue surface reflecting the clear sky and summer sun.

"It's beautiful!" Daphne said, and she pointed back the way they had come. Victoria had never seen the castle from this angle before, the sun glinting off the maze of greenhouses, with the tall gallery windows of the East Wing above them.

Tracey was looking in the other direction. "I had no idea the lake was so huge!"

The Black Lake went on for miles and miles. As they flew across, Victoria's mind turned back to Hagrid. Would anyone even believe her, if she told them that he was the Heir of Slytherin? She could easily imagine Professor Snape's reaction, if she went to him with her concerns; nor did she feel comfortable going to Professor Dumbledore with the information. It was well known that Dumbledore favoured Hagrid, being the one to give him the job of Gamekeeper after he'd been expelled.

Perhaps she could go to someone outside of Hogwarts? Lucius Malfoy was a governor, and she knew he was keeping a close eye on the school. But would he take her seriously? She decided to test the waters with the other girls.

"Pansy, is Hagrid a pure-blood?"

Pansy cocked her head. "Good question. The Hagrids are definitely a wizarding family… I've no idea who his mother is, though."

"So he might have wizarding ancestors going back a long way?" Victoria asked. That was the key point; Salazar Slytherin had lived over a thousand years ago.

"I guess." Pansy looked to Daphne. "Some people might say that makes him a pure-blood, regardless of who is mother is. But that seems very old-fashioned to me. Why should his father matter more than his mother?"

Daphne crossed her arms. "For the same reason you're a Parkinson, not an Avery. If you get rid of that, you might as well get rid of families altogether."

"So theoretically," Victoria said firmly, trying to head off the tangent, "Hagrid could descend from Salazar Slytherin?"

A stunned silence followed—and then, in unison, Pansy and Daphne burst out laughing.

"Hagrid? A Slytherin?" Pansy asked, managing to get the words out between giggles. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Victoria's face heated up. It was as she had expected—no-one was going to take the idea seriously. "Never mind," she mumbled. "I was just curious."

Daphne shook her head, getting her laughter under control. "The last heirs of Slytherin were the Gaunts, and they died out centuries ago. As far as anyone knows, there's no Slytherins left. That's what makes it such a mystery."

"Thanks," Victoria said, nestling back into her seat to think. Could Hagrid descend from the Gaunts, somehow? If no one knew who his mother was, perhaps there was a connection there... but it all seemed just so unlikely. No one would believe her, even if she told them.

A thought occurred to her. What evidence was there, really, that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin? Oh, sure, Tom had caught him with an acromantula. And the writing on the wall clearly referred to the Chamber of Secrets. But what if Hagrid was just pretending to be the Heir? The only thing she knew for certain was that Hagrid was attacking students with a giant spider. That was what she needed to prove.

The carriage finally arrived at the far shore of the lake, swooping over a high cliff which quickly gave way to a thick blanket of trees. They began to descend a few minutes later, circling a small, empty clearing in the forest. The carriage landed with a heavy thump, the force of it lifting them out of their seats, before coming to a halt at the centre of the grassy clearing.

There was no one else around.

"This can't be right," Pansy said, peering out of the window. "Did the thestrals get lost?"

Daphne frowned. "Thestrals don't get lost, you know that."

"Well then, should we get out?" Tracey said, and she began to open the carriage door. Victoria lunged forward and grabbed her wrist.

"I'm pretty sure that's the Forbidden Forest," she said, nodding towards the trees. "We should stay here and wait for someone to get us."

Tracey quickly slammed the door shut, her eyes lingering on the tree line. The forest around them was thick and dark, with no obvious path leading to or from the clearing. "It can't be long before the teachers realise we're missing, right?"

They waited in a tense silence, all four girls glancing nervously at the trees around them. Who know what dangerous beasts the Forbidden Forest contained? Werewolves, vampires, and much worse were said to inhabit its far reaches, where even the Ministry feared to tread.

Pansy began to tap her foot against the wooden floor. Tracey made several attempts at conversation, but each died as quickly as the last.

"That's it!" Pansy declared, after half an hour had passed. "I'm getting out!"

"Wait!" Daphne cried, moving to stop her, but she was too slow—Pansy was already out of the door. The moment her booted foot touched the grass, an owl swooped out of the sky and dropped a letter right into her hands.

Pansy broke the wax seal, unfolded the letter, and began to read aloud. "Welcome to your Defence Against the Dark Arts exam," she said, causing Tracey to groan loudly. "Your first task is to reach the camp site, using the spells which you have studied over the course of the year. In order to help you on your way, you shall receive one clue: what advice did Gilderoy Lockhart give to Madame Plantureux in Chapter Nine of Voyages with Vampires?"

Pansy looked up. "This is our exam? They didn't say anything!"

"Tell me about it," Tracey said. She sounded rather peeved. "If I'd known, I might have done more revision."

"Well, at least we're doing it together," Daphne offered, always the optimist of the group. She turned to Victoria. "You'll help us, won't you?"

Victoria shrugged. "Don't ask me—I've only read his books once, and even then I was more interested in the spells. If only we had Susan with us..."

"Oh, fine, I'll do it," Pansy said, and she plunged her arm deep inside her handbag. After a few moments of rummaging around, she withdrew her copy of Voyages with Vampires. "I thought we might need some books," she explained as she began flicking through the pages. "Now, let's see, Chapter Nine…" Her eyes skimmed across the page. "Right, here we go. Lockhart's Rules for Adventuring. Rule number one… always try the back door first." She frowned. "That doesn't seem to help us. Rule number two… oh. That makes more sense. Always head south."

Tracey drew her wand. "Ohh, I can do this one!" She laid the wand on the palm of her hand and said, "Point me!"

The wand spun on her palm before coming to a halt.

"So that way's north," Tracey said, pointing in the direction of her wand. She turned in her seat to face the opposite direction. "Which makes that way south. Come on!"

They got out of the carriage, retrieved the tent from the roof, and made their way to the southern edge of the clearing. The trees were thick, but not so thick that you couldn't pick your way between them. The problem was the rest of the undergrowth, with tangled bushes and creeping vines of ivy obscuring the forest floor.

"How are we going to get through there?" Pansy said. "There isn't even a path."

Victoria drew her wand and made a slashing motion. "Diffindo!"

A few strands of ivy snapped; some leaves fell off a fern and floated to the ground. She sighed. The Cutting Charm was designed for paper and fabric, not a dense thicket of plants.

"This may take a while."

Cries of "Diffindo!" filled the air as they pushed into the forest. All four of them had to cast the spell repeatedly just to clear some semblance of a path through the trees, and even then it was slow going. The ground underfoot was uneven, full of hidden roots and mossy rocks which could catch you unaware; brambles scratched painfully at Victoria's bare legs, leaving her looking like she'd been attacked by an angry cat, and her robes quickly stained with streaks of green where she had rubbed against plants.

A yelp came from behind; she spun around just in time to see Pansy falling, disappearing beneath the layer of greenery.

"Pansy?" Daphne asked hesitantly, when she didn't immediately resurface. "You okay?"

"Oh, just fine," came Pansy's voice, dripping with sarcasm. Her head emerged from a gap between two bushes; she had mud on one of her cheeks and her hair was a mess. "I think my tights have more ladders than fabric, my robes are ruined, and we've still got who-knows-how-long to go. But other than that, just fine."

Victoria couldn't help but agree. What had Lockhart been thinking, sending them through the forest like this?

"Well, I'm having fun at least," Tracey said. "We're like explorers in the Amazon! Just think—we could be the first people to come through this part of the forest in centuries. Maybe even ever."

Her words seem to capture Daphne's imagination. As they continued on, moving ever deeper into the forest, Daphne and Tracey filled the time by coming up with ever more fantastical embellishments of their adventure.

"I wonder if the vikings ever made it this far," Daphne said. "Imagine if we came across one of their burial mounds!"

"Or a stone circle!" Tracey added. "Mum always used to tell me stories when I was a kid, about how the ancient Britons used stone circles to apparate around the country."

"Oh, yes," Daphne said, seizing upon the idea. "Back before the Romans came and killed all the fae. Maybe we'll even find one of the aos sí out here, hiding all these years!"

Victoria hadn't the heart to point out that the teachers had surely passed through the forest in order to set up the exam. She simply shared a knowing look with Pansy and pushed on ahead, occasionally casting the Four-Point Charm to check they were still heading in the right direction.

A sweaty hour later, their progress accelerated as the vegetation began to thin and the trees grew further apart.

"Look!" Tracey cried. She was pointing to a tree up ahead. "There's another letter!"

She was right. Nailed to the tree at head height was scroll of parchment sealed with wax. Pansy reached it first and used her wand to retrieve it. Daphne and Tracey caught up moments later, carrying the tent between them.

"Congratulations! You've reached the second clue," Pansy read from the parchment. "To proceed further, you must remember Gilderoy Lockhart's least favourite outdoor activity."

Victoria racked her brains, but she couldn't remember any mention of that from his books. She'd tended to skim over that stuff. She looked at the others. "Anyone?"

They all shook their heads.

"We'll have to take a book each, then," Pansy said. She reached into her handbag, pulled out a copy of Travels with Trolls, and gave it to Victoria. Daphne got Magical Me, and Tracey took Gadding with Ghouls. They began flicking through the books, scanning the text quickly for any clue. It soon became clear, however, that they wouldn't find an answer quickly, and one by one they settled in for a long read, perching on a fallen tree.

"I've got it!" Daphne called, at least half an hour later. "Here: Of all the forms of Muggle labour, digging is the most onerous. That's why I recommend that any would-be explorer learn the Gouging Charm, a most useful spell, not least to dig a well if no one in your party is handy with the Water-Conjuring Spell."

Pansy nodded. "So we have to dig?"

"To get water, it sounds like," Victoria said. She pointed her wand at the soil. "Defodio!" A clump of earth the size of a quaffle scooped itself out of the ground and thew itself several feet away, as if it had been dug up by an invisible spade.

Victoria glanced at Pansy, who was the best at Charms after her. "A little help?"

It took a surprising amount of digging to reach water. By the time their spells were landing with a splash rather than a thump, the hole was several feet wide and as deep as Hagrid was tall.

"What now?" Tracey asked, peering down into the hole. "Are you sure digging was the right thing?"

"I'm sure," Daphne said. She was reading Magical Me again, scouring the page for some further clue. "I think we have to drink the water."

Pansy wrinkled her nose. "I'm not drinking that. It's filthy."

"I think that's the point," Victoria said, and she twirled her wand through the air above the hole. "Potify!" Motes of silver light spilled from her wand like rain, floating down into the hole. Another flick of her wand called the water upwards, shaping it into a globe which hung in the air.

The water was perfectly clear.

She transfigured a rock into a simple glass before filling it with some of the water, lifting it to her nose and giving it a sniff.

"It smells okay," she said, before holding it up to the light. Had her Potification Charm worked properly? She couldn't see any dirt in the water, but that didn't necessarily mean it was clean.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Tracey said, before snatching the glass from Victoria's hand and gulping the water down. "There, see? It's fine."

"Oh!" Daphne cried, and she snatched up the letter which Pansy had left on the tree. "There's more writing!" Her eyes skimmed over the parchment. "It's the next clue. We have to go west."

They packed up the books, quickly gobbled down some pumpkin pasties from Tracey's bag, and began to head westwards. Once again, Victoria and Pansy led the way, with Daphne and Tracey following behind with the tent. Luckily, the trees and undergrowth continued to thin, requiring far fewer Cutting Charms than during their previous walk. It took just ten minutes for them to come across a dirt track winding its way through the forest.

"Point me!" Victoria said, checking their direction. She grinned at the result. "The path goes west!"

Daphne set her end of the tent down. "Oh, thank god. That means you guys can take your turn carrying this thing."

They switched places before they continued down the path, with Daphne and Tracey now at the front, and Pansy and Victoria sharing the tent—a state of affairs which Pansy disapproved of greatly. She was outvoted, however, and dutifully picked up her end of the tent.

The path twisted this way and that, such that they could never see far ahead, but they regularly took their bearings with the Four-Point Charm to check they were still heading west.

The wind began to pick up. The further west they got, the harder it blew, and it wasn't long before their dresses were flapping in a stiff breeze, threatening to lift the hem of their skirts. They were forced to walk like penguins, their arms clutched to their sides just to maintain some measure of propriety, a technique made much more difficult by the weight of the tent.

Soon the wind was blowing so hard that they had to shout to be heard.

"This isn't natural!" Victoria called, after trying a Tranquillity Charm to little effect. "Look, the trees aren't moving at all! It's an Unwelcoming Charm, I'm sure of it!"

They were forced to stop at the next turn. The way forward was blocked by a storm, the heavy rain pelting down into the path ahead, turning the soil to mud and gathering in deep puddles. The rain was of obvious magical origin: its frontier formed a fixed line in the ground, with no water escaping the perimeter of the spell; in the distance, at the far end of the long, straight path, a second perimeter could be seen by the glimmer of sun beyond.

Pansy dropped her end of the tent. "You've got another thing coming, if you think I'm going through that. We'll have to go around."

"Around?" Daphne said. "There isn't any 'around'.It's just brambles!"

Pansy looked about in dismay. Tall, prickly bushes bordered the path on both sides. They'd have to backtrack a long way if they wanted to go around, and even then there was no guarantee that they'd be able to find their way through the forest.

"We've got to go through," Victoria said. "Umbrella Charms should do the job."

"Well, you'll have to cast it for me," Pansy said grumpily. "My Umbrella Charm is crap."

Victoria cast the spells, first on Pansy, then on herself. She had to borrow Pansy's wand to cast it for her. The wand felt alien in her hands, and when the spell snapped into place with the sound of unfurling, invisible fabric, she passed it back to Pansy eagerly. It just felt wrong to hold someone else's wand, like brushing your teeth with someone else's toothbrush.

She replicated the Charm with her own wand and checked on the others. Tracey had managed to cast it fine, but Daphne was struggling.

"Propluvia!" she cried, jabbing her wand up into the air. Nothing happened. "Propluvia!"

"Want some help?" Victoria said, holding out her hand.

Daphne shook her head. "No, I can do this. Propluvia!"

This time it worked, the spell casting with the unmistakable whoosh of an umbrella opening.

"There," Daphne said with a smile, holding her wand up next to her head. "Okay, let's go."

They entered the storm. Even protected as she was, Victoria was surprised by the force behind the rain; it hammered against her invisible umbrella like a machine gun, forcing her to take a step back just to brace herself against it.

She gripped her wand tightly, angled the umbrella forward slightly, and pushed ahead. Luckily, the spell held firm, the umbrella successfully deflecting the rain around her, but that didn't account for the rain coming at her sideways, caught in the wind, nor did it prevent her legs from getting wet from the water splashing up from the ground. She quickly became soaked from the waist down.

Daphne and Tracey were faring even worse. Their Umbrella Charms were imperfectly cast, allowing some of the rain through, and after just a few steps both girls were dripping from head to toe.

"Just run!" Daphne called, and they sprinted ahead, their feet splashing from puddle to puddle, throwing even more water up at their legs.

Victoria and Pansy followed at a walk. They couldn't have run even if they'd wanted to, weighed down as they were with the tent, but thanks to Victoria's spells their top halves were still completely dry by the time they reached the far side of the storm.

They passed out of the curtain of rain, returning to the warmth of the bright summer sun. On the other side, they found Daphne and Tracey dripping like miserable cats, their tangled hair stuck to their faces. Daphne was trying to wring water out of the skirt of her dress; Tracey was simply standing with her arms spread wide, her face pointing towards the sun.

Pansy looked at her feet and sighed. "These boots are useless. The water's just gone inside from the top."

"You're complaining?" Daphne said, her voice incredulous. "Look at us! We're soaked!"

"Well," Pansy sniffed, "that's your fault for not getting Vicky to help you."

Victoria ignored them and peered down the path, which continued straight ahead for quite some distance. "Do you think we're almost there? Maybe the camp's at the end of this stretch?"

"It better be," Pansy said. "I need a bath."

They took a moment to clean themselves up. Laddered tights were peeled off, and Victoria used the Drying Charm to blast each of them with hot air, trying to get their hair, dresses and shoes dry. Pansy retrieved a No-Knot Brush from her bag and ran it through Tracey's brown hair; Daphne simply used her fingers to shake hers out so that it fell naturally.

With some semblance of decorum restored, they set forth down the path. It didn't take long before the end was within sight.

"Oh no," Tracey groaned. "I think it's blocked."

Daphne squinted. "What is that? Some kind of bush?"

It was more than a bush. As they got closer, they were able to make it out better: a tall wall of interwoven vines, blocking the full width of the path.

"Devil's Snare," Victoria said, recognising it from Herbology.

Pansy laughed. "Well, that's easy." She levelled her wand at the wall of vines. "Incendio!"

A spark flew from Pansy's wand, setting the wall of vines alight like dry kindling. The flames roared to life with surprising speed, their heat palpable from several paces away, and the vines retreated like startled insects, unravelling to reveal Professor Lockhart standing on the other side. He was holding a clipboard and a peacock-feather quill.

"Well done, girls, well done!" he called, beckoning them forward. "Yes, very impressive! Sixth place!"

Victoria frowned as he scribbled something onto his parchment. Sixth? She'd never come sixth at anything at Hogwarts. And this wasn't some minor piece of homework, it was their final exam. If only they hadn't lost so much time at the start, waiting in the carriage… but no, she couldn't complain about that. She'd been the one to suggest it.

"Is that it, then?" she asked, disappointed. "That's the exam over?"

Lockhart chuckled. "Oh no, you've still got plenty more to come!" He gestured at the path behind him. "We've set up camp on the western slopes of the forest. Your next task is to find a spot for your tent and protect it with whatever spells you consider appropriate. Professor Snape will examine your spellwork later."

Victoria nodded. That, at least, was something she was confident she could score well in—a chance to make up for their poor showing in reaching the camp.

"Off you go, then!" Lockhart said. "You've an hour to get settled."

The campsite consisted of a series of small clearings, like islands amidst an ocean of trees. Those clearings were supposedly linked together by a web of dirt paths, but they were so overgrown that it was often just as easy to traipse directly through the trees. The forest was much thinner here, the trees spaced widely enough apart that the colourful fabric of tents could be spotted between them.

The girls walked down the slope, drifting from clearing to clearing in an effort to find the best site—one close to the centre, with easy access to everyone around them. As they searched, they came across some of the groups that had beaten them to the finish line, including a group of Ravenclaw boys led by Terry Boot and a contingent of Hufflepuffs containing Zacharias Smith. The most galling, however, was the team of Gryffindors who had set up their tent right next to the water pump.

"Don't be stupid, Ron!" Hermione Granger hissed, not yet having noticed their approach. "You'll get expelled for sure! Not to mention all the points you'll lose!"

"How about you mind your own business for once?" Ron said. "No one's asking you to get involved." He was sitting on the ground outside their tent with a large stick in front of him, using his wand to shape the end into a sharp point. "Only you actually care about points. Besides, someone has to stop him."

"I care about points too," Neville said, though he didn't look Ron in the face when he said it. "And didn't you say you were gonna keep your head down from now on?"

Ron scowled. "Things change."

"You're being ridiculous," Hermione said. "Anyway, what do you think you're going to achieve with a—"

She stopped short when she caught sight of the approaching Slytherins.

"Oh look!" Pansy cried. She inspected the three Gryffindors with a curled lip. "It's the body-snatchers. Weasley, whatever idiocy you're planning, please feel free to go ahead. You should've been expelled months ago, if you ask me."

Hermione's face turned a deep red. "We were just trying to help!"

"Help?" Pansy asked, her voice incredulous. "Let me teach you a lesson for the future, Granger. Like all good help, we'll let you know when we need you. Which will be never, since you're a thieving excuse for a witch."

Daphne laughed; a high, derisory sound which reminded Victoria of Mrs Malfoy.

"Funny," Hermione said, her expression stony. "But if I'm an excuse for a witch, what does that make you? We were the first to finish, you know."

Victoria had to suppress a groan. Of course Granger had come first. No doubt she had Lockhart's complete works memorised back-to-front.

"There's more to being a witch than remembering bits from Lockhart's books," Daphne said. "Not that you'd know."

Hermione smirked. "Then why is it, I wonder, that I knew to use the Imperturbable Charm to protect from rain, and you didn't?" She looked between the Slytherin girls, and now she'd drawn attention to it, Victoria couldn't help but notice that the Gryffindors' robes were in a rather better state than their own. "What'd you try, the Umbrella Charm?"

Now it was Victoria's turn to blush—the Umbrella Charm had been her idea. "That's what Flitwick taught us last year!"

"And yet Lockhart clearly imperturbed himself in chapter six of Year with the Yeti," Hermione said. "Maybe you should spend more time reading books, and less time looking after your hair."

Ron and Neville laughed; Victoria was left speechless. The gall of it! She was willing to bet that she'd read just as much as Granger, if not more. But perhaps she had dismissed Lockhart's books too quickly...

Pansy came to her rescue. "Whatever, Granger. You can cast all the spells you like, but you'll never be anything more than a Muggle with a wand. Come on, girls."

They stalked off before Hermione could think of a retort.

"As if she's actually sharing a tent with boys," Pansy said once they were out of earshot. "Doesn't she have any standards?"

Of all the things to criticise, that one struck Victoria as odd. They shared a changing room with the boys before Flying class, after all—surely sharing a tent was no worse than that? But it seemed that her sense for wizarding habits was not quite as finely developed as she thought, because Daphne agreed wholeheartedly.

"She's going to get a reputation if she's not careful," Daphne said. "I'm surprised it's even allowed."

"Maybe no-one else will have her," Pansy said. "Did you hear her, lecturing Weasley like that? There's no wonder Parvati can't stand her. I'm surprised those two even put up with her, but I guess losers have to stick together."

Victoria stole a glance at Daphne. Normally she would stick up for Neville, whenever he landed in Pansy's sights, but this time she said nothing. Perhaps the polyjuice incident had been the final straw.

Instead, it was Tracey who came to his defence. "Can't we just forget about them?" There was a hint of irritation to her voice; Victoria was reminded that Tracey's father was a Muggleborn. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling rather guilty, her mind running over the things they had said. None of them applied to Tracey, of course, but still… perhaps it would be better to avoid the topic.

Daphne seemed to have reached the same conclusion. "You're right. What do we care about them? Come on, let's get the tent out."

As Daphne and Tracey struggled to assemble the tent under Pansy's unhelpful directions, Victoria set about casting the spells to protect their campsite. She began by digging a shallow trench in a ring around the edge of the clearing, deploying the Gouging Spell for the second time that day. If she'd been enchanting a house, or somewhere like Hogwarts with walls around it, then the spell would have settled at the limits of the property, but out here in the wilderness there was no such natural border. She had to create one. A trench was rudimentary at best—she was no charm-mason—but it would get the job done.

By the time the trench was complete, the others had managed to arrange the heap of metal poles into a precarious, wobbling frame.

"No, it goes the other way around!" Pansy said, sitting on a tree stump and watching as Daphne and Tracey tied to line the rainfly up to the frame. "You've got it inside out!"

Daphne sighed and switched sides with Tracey. "Why is this so confusing? It'd be so much easier if we knew the Erection Charm."

Tracey sniggered. "I dare you to ask Flitwick when we get back. Professor, please can you teach us about erection?"

"I think Madam Promfrey did that already," Victoria added with a grin.

"Oh, shush!" Daphne said, her cheeks pink. "You know what I meant!"

Victoria returned to her spells while the others continued work on the tent. Selecting a tree within the perimeter, she used the Cutting Charm to carve their names into the bark of the trunk.

Victoria, Daphne, Tracey, and Pansy
were here

April 1993

She finished it off by encircling their names with a crudely drawn heart. Her graffiti was not merely an act of vandalism: the carving laid claim to their clearing, a vital part of making sure her charms took root. A proper house would have a title deed, but this kind of informal claim would work just fine for a short camping trip.

With the preparation out of the way, all that was left to do was cast the magic.

"Repello Lupus!" she intoned, tracing the outline of the heart with her wand. A silvery glow was left in its wake, the light lingering for just a moment before sinking into the wood of the tree. She repeated the process with several more charms.

"Immunignis!"

"Repello Muggletum!

"Repello Vipera!"

One by one, the spells took to the bark. They would protect their campsite from wolves, Muggles, fire, and snakes, but what to do about unwanted guests? She didn't know any charms to protect from magical intruders—those spells were far more advanced—but perhaps she could improvise something.

Her mind went back to the book of jinxes she had read with Susan over the summer. Yes, a jinx could work nicely. She stepped over the trench into the wooded area surrounding their clearing, picked a tree, and tapped one of its branches with her wand.

"Inhospedentus!"

She watched with curiosity as the Biting Jinx took effect. The whole branch came to life with a shudder, wiggling this way and that like a snake, and many of its leaves grew fangs which reminded her of a venomous tentacula. Hesitantly, she raised her hand towards the branch, ready to jerk back if it snapped at her, but the animated wood simply leaned eagerly into her touch, like a cat craving attention. Good. The jinx was working properly—it would bite only unwanted guests, not friends.

She circled the clearing, repeating the spell on a good number of trees. This way, it would be nearly impossible for someone to sneak up on them without being bitten, or at least causing some sort of commotion. Any visitors would have to come down the path.

Just as Victoria was finishing, she spotted Draco and the boys trudging down the slope towards their campsite. They were looking rather the worse for wear: Draco's normally neat hair was wet and messy; Greg and Vince were covered in cuts and bruises; Blaise's robes were torn; and Theodore, normally so pale, was practically glowing pink from having caught the sun.

"All right, slow coaches?" Daphne called, poking her head out from under a tent flap. "God, you look even worse than us. What'd you do, take the scenic route?"

"Tried to fly," Draco said once he'd got closer. "There's some sort of Anti-Flight Jinx, though—we ended up way off course."

"Oh, but what a clever idea!" Pansy said. She was still sitting on a tree stump, fanning herself lazily as Daphne and Tracey did all the work. "Just think, you could've easily been the first ones here."

Tracey snorted. "Yeah, if it'd worked."

"Well, we weren't last, at least," Draco said. "Maybe Snape'll give us extra points for creative thinking, or something."

"Maybe," Victoria said. Snape would often find excuses to award Slytherin points. "But you better hurry, unless you want to lose points for your tent. You've only got twenty minutes left to put it up."

The boys rushed to the next clearing over, where they started putting their tent up. They had clearly done a practice run, or else their tent was enchanted to erect itself, because by the time Daphne and Tracey had finished hammering guy lines into the hard dirt, the boys had already put up a humongous metal frame.

"All done!" Tracey declared. She brushed her dirty hands against the front of her dress robe and admired her handiwork. Their tent was significantly smaller than the boys'. In fact, it looked very much like a Muggle tent, long and toblerone-shaped, and no taller than Victoria's shoulders.

"Finally," Pansy said, hopping off her tree stump. "I thought we'd never finish." She parted the front entrance and stooped down to duck inside the flap. Tracey and Daphne followed behind, disappearing inside without a trace.

Victoria grinned and joined them. As she'd expected, the inside had been magically expanded to a size similar to their dorm at Hogwarts, with a small kitchen at the far end. There were limits to magical expansion, however, and the interior was still very much that of a tent: the fabric walls sloped in from the sides, coming to a triangular point above them, and the whole structure was held up by tall metal poles. Four hammocks were strung between those poles, and the floor was littered with cushions.

Frowning, she tried not to think about what would happen if the poles collapsed overnight. What happened to people in expanded space if the structure failed?

Pansy interrupted her increasingly anxious thoughts. "Do we have time for a bath, do you think?" She nodded towards a large copper tub tucked to the side of the kitchen. "It'd be nice to freshen up."

"Not a chance," said Daphne, who was helping Tracey to transfer snacks from her backpack to the kitchen's coolbox. "We'd have to get water from the pump, then heat it up, then take turns in the tub… it'd take forever."

"I guess," Pansy sighed. "But we'll have one later, right? We can't go to Draco's party like this."

They had even less time than Daphne had thought. A bell rang out—three high pitched chimes, coming from down slope—followed by Lockhart's magically amplified voice.

"TIME'S UP! PLEASE ASSEMBLE BY THE STAFF TENTS IN FIVE MINUTES."

They quickly finished unpacking before making their way downhill towards the teachers' tents. Their winding route took them on a tour through many other campsites, and Victoria was struck by the variety on display. Draco's tent was by far the most impressive, the size of a log cabin, with a raised porch at the front and proper glass windows dotted along its sides. At the opposite end of the spectrum was Zacharias Smith, who fancied himself something of an adventurer and had convinced his fellow Hufflepuffs to commit to a more minimalistic style. Each of them was protected by little more than sheet of translucent fabric hovering in the air, completely exposed to the elements at the sides, and they'd already started a campfire with a metal kettle whistling happily above it.

What all the other campsites had in common, however, was that no one else had protected theirs like Victoria had. There were no trenches. There weren't even wooden posts or stone circles, which she might have used if she'd had less time. So far as she could tell, everyone else had simply cast their enchantments in the air. She even saw Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan hopping in a circle around the perimeter of their clearing, casting charms as they went.

It was just… sloppy. Spells cast like that would last a couple of days at the most. Hours, if you were casting them as badly as Finnegan. And sure, they would only be camping the one night, but that was no reason to get lazy.

The downhill path gave way to a large clearing, where a crowd of students were gathering in front of three pavilions. The teachers, it seemed, did not have to share tents. More and more students emerged from the trees, and once everyone had arrived, Professor Lockhart and Hagrid stepped out of the middle tent.

"Welcome to Camp Westview!" Lockhart declared. "Now, I hope you've all enjoyed your day so far. As we speak, Professor Snape is examining your campsites for the quality of your spellwork. Meanwhile, the third and final stage of your exam awaits!" He flourished his cape and struck a dramatic pose. "Be warned! What lies beyond will test you. You will need to demonstrate all those qualities which I've relied upon so many times, in my published works—your daring, your athleticism, and your knowledge of defensive spells!"

An excited murmur ran through the students, but Victoria's heart was already sinking. Athleticism?

"Oh, no," Pansy groaned, apparently sharing her thoughts. "They're going to make us run, aren't they?"

Daphne laughed. "Sounds like it."

"It's not funny!" Victoria said, sending her a glare. "This is our exam, and they're not even testing us on magic! What's running got to do with anything?"

Lockhart cleared his throat loudly; the students hushed. "As I was saying, Mr Hagrid has prepared quite the treat for you! I can't tell you too much—it'd ruin the surprise—but you will complete the course in pairs. Think of it as a race. And if that wasn't enough to motivate you, the student who finishes in the shortest time will receive a special prize, courtesy of yours truly!"

Predictably, everyone began whispering about what the prize could be.

"I bet it's a signed photo," Victoria said grumpily.

"Ohh, do you think so?" Tracey said, completely missing her tone. "That'd make a good birthday present for my mum."

"Well then, let's get started!" Lockhart said. "Patil and Patil, you're up first."

He led Parvati and Padma around the side of the three pavillions. Hagrid followed, his hulking form taking longer to pass out of sight.

"So now we wait, I guess," Tracey said. "Vicky, you want to go together?"

Victoria shrugged. "Sure."

It quickly became clear, however, that they would not get to pick their own partners. When the Patil twins returned, Padma grinning with victory, Lockhart called out another pair of names.

"Macmillan and Boot, you're next!"

Everyone else settled down in their groups for a long wait. There was a quiet tension in the air, as if they had all suddenly realised that this was an exam, not just a fun day out. Amidst the quiet, Pansy kept glancing over to where Parvati was sitting in a huddle of Gryffindors, the lot of them whispering with intent.

"Well, that's not fair," she said. "She's telling them what to expect!"

She stood and walked over to a water pump, where she pretended to have a drink. By chance, on her way back, her circuitous route took her past the group of Gryffindor girls, and Victoria watched in amusement as she acted out the charade of having just noticed them, greeting Parvati enthusiastically and taking a place in their huddle.

Daphne shook her head. "She thinks she's so subtle."

"Maybe she isn't," Victoria said, "but if it works…"

Five minutes later, Pansy returned bearing information.

"They wouldn't tell me much," she said, leaning in to whisper. "But it sounds like there's lots of animals. A snake, at least."

"Great," Victoria said, taking a deep breath and trying to prepare herself. She could only imagine how she would have reacted, if a snake had jumped out at her without warning. Sometimes there were definite advantages to knowing Pansy.

Eventually, Victoria's name was called.

"Potter! Granger! With me!"

She groaned, standing up reluctantly. Of course she was paired with Granger.

"Good luck!" Tracey whispered.

Lockhart ticked their names off his clipboard and led them around to the other side of the teachers' tents.

"It's just you and me, this time," Hermione whispered as they followed behind. Her bushy hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was already gripping her wand. "There's no Snape to help you today."

Victoria tried not to let Hermione get to her, giving her what she hoped was a serene smile. "We'll see."

Her smile faded when they caught sight of the start of the obstacle course. A wall of fire awaited them, like a curtain hanging across a gap in the trees, and even from a distance Victoria could feel the dry heat on her face. A line of chalk had been drawn on the ground in front of the fire.

"On the starting line, now," Lockhart said, and they took their places behind the chalk. "On my mark, the race will begin. You will need to part the fire to enter the course. Mr Hagrid is waiting at the far end. All clear?"

Victoria nodded; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Granger do the same.

"Very well. On your marks… get set… go!"

The pair of them sprung into motion, their wands raised, their voices calling out as one:

"Extinguo!"

Two archways appeared in the flames, granting passage to the course beyond, and the girls darted forward. They were neck and neck as they passed through the crackling fire; Victoria cringed from the heat, but a moment later she was through to a dirt path with tall hedges on either side. Being slightly faster than Hermione, Victoria began to pull ahead—but suddenly, a massive tree trunk swung out from the side of the path, and she threw herself to the ground with a yelp. The log sailed through the air just above her head.

"What the hell?" she cried, but just as she scrambled to get up, another log swung out from the opposite direction, sending her back down into the dirt.

She would have to crawl. It was difficult with her wand cradled in her hand, and she inched forwards slowly, her wrists and knees accumulating mud. Where had Hermione gone? She must have been forced to crawl as well, somewhere behind Victoria—but then, a moment later, Hermione reappeared to Victoria's right, back on her feet and quickly running ahead.

A curse escaping her lips, Victoria leapt to her feet and sprinted to catch up. Luckily, she seemed to have passed through the swinging logs, and a twist in the path led her to the next obstacle: a deep pit filled with water, with two narrow planks leading to the other side. Hermione was already half way across, her arms out to either side as she wobbled precariously atop the plank.

She'd forgotten she was a witch.

Victoria's mind slipped into the now-instinctive frame required for transfiguration by technique. With a wave of her wand, the plank in front of her widened; she ran across easily, leaving Hermione spluttering behind. "Too slow, Granger!"

The next twist in the path revealed a long straight interspersed with statues of animals standing on plinths. The first statue was of an enormous wolf; the moment Victoria turned the corner, colour began to seep into its stone features as it came to life.

She froze. Her every instinct screamed at her to turn and run, but her legs wouldn't obey. The wolf didn't wait for her to make up her mind: it jumped off its stone plinth and bounded towards her, picking up speed as it got bigger and bigger.

Victoria recovered just in time. "Shoo!" she cried, flicking her wand dismissively, and the wolf was launched back through the air—just in time for Hermione to come out from behind her and take the lead once more, running down the straight which Victoria had so generously cleared for her.

Victoria sprinted after her, passing the wolf's empty plinth, slowly but surely closing the distance. The two of them quickly approached the next statue, a giant, magically engorged adder which was rearing to strike, but Hermione was prepared.

"Shoo!"

The adder flew through the air just as the wolf had done, neither Victoria nor Hermione even pausing their forward momentum. They were level by the time they came to the final plinth, which released an angry cloud of buzzing wasps.

The wasps darted straight for Victoria, ignoring Hermione completely. Taken by surprise, Victoria's fear of the insects momentarily overcame her and she came to an abrupt halt.

"Yes!" Hermione cried, a laugh in her voice, and she pulled ahead. Victoria recovered quickly, however, and moved to cast the Shooing Charm—but then a wonderful, terrible idea sprung into her mind.

She pointed her wand at Hermione's back. "Oppugno!"

It was like flicking a switch. The wasps turned in the air and shot towards Hermione, who was still none the wiser. Victoria launched herself back into a run, and then the wasps were upon Hermione, who shrieked in surprise just as Victoria overtook her.

"Shoo!" came Hermione's panicked voice, but she was clearly having trouble. "Shoo! Shoo! Shoo!"

Victoria ran on without glancing behind. Having finished with the animals, the path turned again, this time into a downhill section. At the bottom of the hill was the strangest sight: a gorilla dressed in a tracksuit, wearing a baseball cap and carrying Professor Lockhart's fire-arm. A large cannon was on the ground in front of it, pointing up the hill towards her, and as Victoria watched, the gorilla used a match to light the cannon's fuse.

Her eyes widened.

"Impervius!"

The cannon went off with a loud bang, the cannonball shooting through the air faster than Victoria could see—the only sign that her spell had worked was the sound of splintering wood to her side as the projectile swerved into the trees.

That had been rather close.

She began to run down the hill, holding back from going too fast lest she lose control. The gorilla launched several more cannonballs at her, each of them missing like the first, and when she was half-way down the hill, it finally lifted the fire-arm.

She'd anticipated that. "Immunignis!"

A fireball flew towards her. She didn't slow down, confident in her spell, and she barrelled through the flames with nothing but a mild tickling sensation. Soon she was close enough to the gorilla to realise just how huge it was, almost as big as Hagrid. Would it attack her, like the other animals had? That was a problem: they'd never learnt how to Shoo gorillas. She would have to try a less reliable charm.

"Locomotor gorilla!" she said, flicking her wand, but the goshawk still resisted her. The spell merely knocked the gorilla's baseball cap off its head. She cursed and slowed her descent down the hill, trying to buy time to think.

Just as she reached the bottom of the hill, she realised the solution. The gorilla was clearly meant to represent a Muggle, to which there was an obvious defence.

"Confundo!" she cried, twirling her wand in the gorilla's direction. Its face became slack and confused; grunting, it looked down at the fire-arm with clear curiosity.

Victoria ran past the gorilla, pushing down her instinct to give it a wide berth and trusting in her magic. Behind the gorilla was one final turn in the path, bringing the finish line into sight— the edge of the tree line, where the forest opened out onto the grassy clifftop they'd flown over earlier in the day.

Hagrid was standing at the edge of the trees, a egg-timer in his hands, the lake sparkling in the distance behind him.

"Come on!" he called. "You ain't finished yet!"

Panting, she pushed herself into one last sprint towards Hagrid. It was a good thing she did, because the sound of Hermione's footsteps appeared behind her, closing in on her as they ran down the final straight.

She crossed the finish line mere seconds before Hermione caught up.

"Well done!" Hagrid said, beaming at them. "Bes' time so far! Under five minutes."

But Hermione was not happy. "You cheated!" she gasped, still breathing hard from the sprint. "Mr Hagrid, she cast a spell to set the wasps on me!"

Hagrid frowned, his dark eyes turning on Victoria. "Tha' true?"

"Of course not," Victoria lied. She shook her head at Hermione in disappointment. "Really, Granger, you ought to be a better loser. It's not sporting."

Hermione just gaped at her, as if she couldn't comprehend so brazen a lie. This, from the girl who had stolen Pansy's body. And a tattle-tale to boot, it seemed.

"Well, that's tha', I s'pose," Hagrid said. He shrugged. "It's just a test, at the end o' the day."

"Just a test?" Hermione said, her voice scandalised.

Victoria nodded enthusiastically. "You're so wise, Mr Hagrid." This was supposed to be the Heir of Slytherin? There wasn't a cunning bone in his body. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that Hagrid was a fraud. "Well, if that's everything, I'd better be getting back to my friends. See you around, Granger."

She made her way back to the staff tents feeling very pleased with herself. As much as she disliked the girl, when it came to magic Hermione was the only one in their year who could hope to beat her. Now that she'd failed to do so, the prize for the fastest time was surely Victoria's for the taking.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. There was a lot of excitement on her return, as she shared the blow-by-blow details of how to get through the obstacle course with Daphne, Tracey and Pansy, but that excitement quickly turned to boredom as the hours stretched on. Daphne was the next from their group to run, racing against Lavender Brown, to whom she lost narrowly. Pansy went much later, handily beating Sophie Roper. By the time Tracey returned from her race against Lisa Turpin, they were hungry, tired, and thoroughly fed up.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait much longer after that.

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called, and everyone got to their feet lethargically. "That's it! Closer now, don't be shy! Well then. Everyone's tried their wand at the course, and we're ready to announce the winner!"

Victoria smirked and prepared to step forward.

"A most impressive performance, I must say!" Lockhart said. "With a time clocking in at three minutes and forty seconds, please put your hands together for Zacharias Smith!"

Draco's party took place later that evening, after the girls had taken turns in the bath and managed to spill half the water across Daphne's tent. The April sun was low in the sky, a few hours of light remaining before dusk, and its warm, orange glow cast long shadows through the trees around the boys' campsite. A large fire pit had been dug at the centre of the clearing, the crackle of flames joining the chirruping of the birds above, the sounds of nature interrupted only by the murmur of conversation and the occasional faint shout, carried through the forest from a distant campsite.

The party was an exclusive one, the hottest ticket in Camp Westview, with all the most popular students and the best food. Vince had taken charge of the cooking, and an array of fat sausages were already sizzling over the fire, sharing space on a metal grill with halved onions and chicken thighs. Tracey and Gregory were playing apprentice; the former shucking a pile of corn, the latter rubbing salt into a long flank steak. Further around the fire, Theodore was trying to recreate Lockhart's fire-arm with Eustace Whitbeck, a fellow Slytherin second year, and on the opposite side, Parvati was showing Ceclia Chorleywood and Sophie Roper how to read the future in the flames.

The raised, wooden porch of Draco's tent was reserved for his closest friends. It was there that Victoria found herself, playing a game of favours with Susan, Pansy, Daphne, Draco, Blaise and—to her regret—Zacharias Smith.

"Hit me," Zach said, and Pansy passed him a card from the top of the deck. He smiled. "Perfect—another goblin."

Susan snorted. "You do know that you're meant to keep your cards a secret, right?"

"Unless it's a bluff," Daphne said.

"Or a double bluff," Pansy added, giving Zach's cards a calculating look.

In Victoria's experience, trying to guess another player's hand never ended well—far better to just play your own hand. But then again, she almost always lost, so maybe that was where she was going wrong. She reached out and took the card sitting in front of Susan, struggling to suppress her smile when she saw that it was a mermaid. She was just one card away from getting the set.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What was it you discarded, Susan? Victoria's obviously rather pleased with it."

"Hey! No fair!" Victoria cried, but her objection stood no chance against Susan's crush.

"A mermaid," Susan said, sending her a cheeky grin.

Victoria pouted. "Traitor."

"Right," Pansy said, "no one give Vicky any merpeople, she's close to winning."

And just like that, victory slipped from her grasp once again. Zach won the round—it turned out he wasn't bluffing—and he collected the pot of favours from the table in the middle.

"Well, this is useless," he said, holding up a silver trinket in the shape of a robe. That was the favour Victoria had bet. "Though… what happens if I ask to borrow your robe now?"

Victoria blushed heavily. "That's not allowed!"

"Isn't it?" Zach said, and he made a show of looking her up and down. To Victoria's alarm, she felt the familiar tug in her chest indicating that a magical debt was owed.

"Stop it," Pansy said firmly, her tone brooking no disagreement. "Zach, you'll behave or you'll go back to your tent."

There was a moment of tense silence, but then Zach laughed, put the favour down and leaned back in his seat. "No worries. I was just playing around."

Victoria wasn't so sure. She shared a nervous look with Susan—she'd never played favours with the boys before, and suddenly the game didn't seem so innocent. It was just fortunate that Pansy's sense of propriety was so strong.

"Another round?" Draco said, picking up the cards. There was a murmur of approval, and he dealt out four cards to each player.

Now that she was alert to the danger of owing favours to the boys, Victoria played much more cautiously, taking care to consider the possible uses of each favour before betting. The figurine of a witch and wizard clasped together was out—there was no way she was going to risk owing Zach a dance—as was the little silver question mark, which would oblige her to share a secret. Eventually, she decided to throw a daisy-shaped favour into the pot. She was pretty sure there was no way to abuse flowers.

Everyone groaned when they saw her bet.

"So boring," Blaise said, before taking his turn. His favour took the form of a wizard in a duelling stance—a promise to champion for someone in a duel.

"And yours is better?" Victoria said. "I don't remember seeing you in duelling, Blaise."

Zach laughed. "I've duelled you, Potter. You'd do well to win his favour."

"Oh, ha-ha," Victoria said, giving him a glare. "But you weren't so cocky the other day, when Joseph bounced you around the duelling grounds."

"Deverill's a sixth year," Zach said with a shrug. "I'll beat him one day."

"Good luck," Pansy said, adding her favour to the pot. "He's planning to be an Auror."

Draco took his turn to bet. "Really? I didn't know that. You think he has a chance? He's a good duellist, sure, but becoming an Auror… that's something else."

"My Aunt Amelia says they only find someone once a decade," Susan said. "She's the—"

"—Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement," Pansy finished. "Yes, we know."

Susan went very red. Somehow, it was a lot less funny when Pansy said it.

"Your turn to bet, Daphne," Victoria said, shifting the conversation. "What've you got?"

Daphne ducked her head down and picked through her favours, her loose blonde hair hanging down and hiding her face. Her hand lingered over a silver pair of lips, hesitating, before she seemed to gather the courage to place it onto the table.

The boys cheered; Susan gasped; Pansy sighed. Daphne had bet a kiss. After the last round, she had to know that one of the boys would call on it, if they won the pot. But perhaps, judging by the pink in her cheeks and the sparkle in her blue eyes, that was exactly what she was counting on.

The game was on. They each placed an unwanted card on the table, before taking turns to either pick up another player's card or try their luck with the deck. When it came to Draco's turn, he took forever to decide his next move, examining each of them closely as if their faces would tell him something useful.

Pansy made a big show of yawning, but Draco was unmoved by her hint. "So… Zach," she said, filling the silence, "what was Lockhart's prize, in the end?"

"Oh, that?" Zach said with a cocky smirk. "It was nothing much—he said I'd get a mention in his next book."

Susan sighed. "Well, now I definitely wish I'd managed a quicker time."

"It's training you need, not wishes," Zach said. "You can join me, if you like. I run around the lake every morning—crack of dawn stuff."

"How utterly horrid," Pansy said, shuddering at the thought. "Whatever possessed you to do that?"

He shrugged. "I enjoy it. Properly wakes you up, it does. Turns out it's dead useful for acing your Defence exam too."

"You're so dedicated," Daphne said, gazing at Zach with open admiration. The intended recipient of her kiss was suddenly quite clear. "Your grandfather's a Thesian, isn't he?"

"That's right," Zach said. "He likes to show me a trick or two, when he's in Britain."

Victoria glanced at Susan in confusion.

"Ministry hunters," Susan whispered. "When a magical creature gets loose, it's the Thesians who take it down."

Zach overheard her explanation. "Not just any creatures," he added. "They only call in the Thesians for the properly dangerous ones. You should see the manor—we're running out of places to stick grandfather's trophies."

Pansy sniffed. "Sounds barbaric, if you ask me."

"I think it's heroic," Daphne said, and Zach puffed up at her praise. "Ignore Pansy. She's a city girl at heart, even if she does live on a farm."

Victoria didn't much care one way or the other. "What kind of trophies does he have, then?" she asked, her focus rather more practical. "Any… I dunno, acromantula?"

Susan perked up, cottoning on to her train of thought.

"Fat chance of that," Zach said. "They're pretty rare, I've heard. Don't think you get them in Europe."

"But your grandfather must have fought some impressive creatures," Susan said. "Do you reckon he could kill an acromantula, if there was one?"

Zach nodded confidently. "No doubt about it."

Finally, Draco made his decision and took a card from the deck. A flurry of card-switching followed as everyone else took their turn.

Victoria whispered to Susan while the others were distracted. "That's it!" she hissed, leaning in close so no one would hear. "If we could just prove that Hagrid has an acromantula..."

A smile spread across Susan's face. "Then we write to Zach's grandfather, and he handles the rest?"

"Exactly," Victoria said. "Forget the Heir of Slytherin stuff. The acromantula's enough."

Another round of betting began, once everyone had taken their new card. Draco and Victoria took the opportunity to fold, after which there was a further exchange of cards. Soon enough it was time for everyone to reveal their hands.

"Just a pair, here," Daphne said, throwing her cards onto the table. She didn't seem too upset at having lost.

"Rebels," Zach said, and everyone groaned as he laid out a goblin, a centaur, a merman and a ghost. Once again, he reached for the pot of favours.

"Not so fast," Blaise said. One by one, he set his cards on the table. Four wizards, the highest scoring hand possible. "Dominion."

Zach gaped. "What? The chances of that are… wow."

"You people talk too much," Blaise said. "Makes it easy." He gathered the pot from the centre of the table and immediately picked out the silver lips. "Would you look at that—I think I'm owed a favour."

Pansy laughed gleefully. "Oh, Daphne. You've done it now!"

Daphne rose from her seat, straightened out her dress robe, and shuffled around the table towards Blaise. There was a small smile on her lips and her cheeks were rosy. She didn't seem too upset by the turn of events—but then, Blaise was one of the better looking boys in their year.

He sat up eagerly, his eyes wide, and Daphne leaned down towards him. Her hair was almost glowing golden in the light of the setting sun, a stark contrast to his dark skin. Then she kissed him right on the lips—chaste, but lingering, lasting far longer than was proper.

Susan whooped and Pansy clapped; Victoria found herself grinning.

Daphne pulled away with a wide smile and held out her hand. Dazed, Blaise looked at it in confusion.

"Favour," she said, and he obediently placed the silver lips in her waiting palm.

Zach was already gathering up the cards. "Again?"

He was interrupted by Vincent's bellowing voice.

"FOOD!"

Immediately, all thoughts of another game were forgotten. They scrambled towards the firepit, leaving Zach holding the cards, and chaos ruled as everyone fought to get their hands on the best pieces of beef, chicken, and sausage. Victoria was no exception. It had been a long, tiring day, and other than a few of Tracey's snacks, she'd barely eaten. She tore a hunk of fluffy bread off a French stick, wriggled into a gap between Pansy and Susan next to the fire, and used the bread to grab one of the plump sausages glistening with fat. Parvati's elbow dug into her side; Victoria stepped aside to let her through and, without even finding a seat, bit into her makeshift hot dog.

She groaned. The sausage was juicy and delicious, the fat soaking into the bread and turning it a meaty brown. It took her mere seconds to gobble the whole thing down. "Vince, this is so good."

"Hear hear!" Draco called, wielding a chicken thigh in one hand, a skewer of perfectly pink beef in the other. "Three cheers for Vince, Greg and Tracey!"

Three cheers rang out, the effect somewhat muted by the fact that their mouths were all full. Luckily, there was more than enough for everyone and, once the initial scramble had died down, Victoria was able to return to the grill and load up a plate—bone-china, as if Draco would tolerate anything less—with chicken, beef, and corn on the cob. Tracey broke out the butterbeer she'd brought, and the sky turned orange as they gorged themselves in a contented, companionable silence.

By the time that Vince and Greg went in for their fourth portion, almost everyone had eaten their fill.

"I can't move," Susan moaned, clutching her stomach. "I don't think I've ever been this full."

"You ate too fast," Pansy said, still nibbling on some corn. "Slow and steady wins the race."

"We'll feel better if we move around a bit," Zach said. "We could play a game? Muggle Hunt, maybe."

His suggestion was met with a chorus of boos.

"No running," Victoria said. She'd run enough for one day already.

Parvati agreed. "Besides, we're a bit old for Muggle Hunt, don't you think?"

"Was just an idea," Zach muttered.

"He's right, though," Draco said. "We should go for a walk. Maybe drop by Boot's camp, see what they're up to."

They finished eating and ambled off into the trees, walking without any true purpose or direction. The sun had almost set now, though it was not yet so dark that they needed wandlight to see. The birds had finally gone quiet, save for a single nightingale, and twigs cracked loudly underfoot in the peace of twilight.

"What time is it?" Susan asked, her voice hushed.

Draco pulled a pocket watch from a robe pocket. "Not even eight-thirty."

"That's so weird," Victoria said, holding back a yawn. "Back at the castle, we wouldn't even be thinking of bed yet. But out here…"

"It feels different," Daphne agreed. "Once the sun goes down, you feel like you should too."

Zach shook his head in disbelief. "Listen to you people. Bed at eight-thirty? You sound like my great-grandmother. We're in the wild, we're wizards—let's have some fun."

"To the Ravenclaws, then," Draco said. "I heard Turpin managed to bring some wine."

Their route took them back uphill, sticking to the paths to avoid getting lost. But as they got close to Terry Boot's campsite, three dark figures approached from the opposite direction, one of them a huge, hulking shadow.

"Teachers!" Pansy hissed. "Quick, into the trees!"

They rushed to hide, scattering in different directions, each of them finding a tree to crouch behind.

"...you're too easy on them, Lockhart," Snape was saying, his voice still quite distant. "I have it on good authority that Boot's company have alcohol with them. We should've searched their camp."

"Been looking into students' eyes again, Severus?" Lockhart asked, his voice mild. "They're young—let them enjoy it. A party in the woods won't do any harm."

"A lack of discipline will, however," Snape said. "They're here to learn, not to engage in… frivolity."

Hagrid chucked. "Ah, lighten up, Snape. Yer far too grouchy fer thirty-years-old."

Snape's correction was crisp. "Thirty-two."

"Well, when yer've doubled tha', then we can talk. F'now, let the kids 'ave some fun."

"Quite right," Lockhart said. "We ought to be far more concerned with the dangers of the forest than a bit of innocent contraband. Hagrid, you'll check the perimeter?"

"I can do tha'," Hagrid said.

"Good," Lockhart said. "And Severus, will you secure the gate?"

There was a moment of silence.

"As you wish," Snape said. "This is, after all, your pet project. I leave the supervision of the children to you."

Two sets of footsteps stopped and returned back uphill, leaving Lockhart alone as he continued down towards the Gryffindor camp. The forest went still as they all waited for the teachers to pass out of sight.

"Victoria!" Susan hissed, and she scurried across to share the same tree. "This is our chance!"

"Chance for what?"

"To check out Hagrid's tent!" Susan said. "Didn't you hear? He's going to the perimeter—that gives us loads of time. I bet there's something in there we can use as proof."

Victoria hesitated. Sure, she'd broken a few rules in her time, sneaking out after curfew, or drinking a bit of wine… but breaking into a teacher's tent was something else entirely. What if they got caught? She could only guess at the punishment. Even worse, what if Hagrid had brought the acromantula with him, and they ended up facing a giant spider?

"I dunno," she said. "Can't we just go with the others to the party?"

Susan crossed her arms. "If we don't do it now, we're never going to get a chance like this again. So I guess the question is… do you want to catch the Heir, or not?"

"It's not that simple!" Victoria said, her voice now a stage whisper. "Of course I want to catch the Heir, but… there are limits, you know? Making a foe glass, that's one thing. It either worked, or it didn't. But snooping around people's tents? Susan, it could be dangerous."

Susan was not to be persuaded. "Well, I'm going," she said stubbornly. "You can either come with me, or not."

When she put it like that, Victoria really didn't have a choice. She couldn't just let Susan go it alone. She may have followed reluctantly, and she may have sulked about it, but she followed nonetheless.

They snuck away without telling the others, making good time downhill towards the staff tents. On the way, they passed campsite after campsite, each of them full of laughter, the light of a campfire, and the smell of food. It took all of Victoria's resolve to walk past each one, forgoing all those parties in pursuit of—if she was honest with herself—a wild goose chase.

They arrived at the teachers' pavilions. The clearing was dark and deserted, feeling strangely empty in the absence of the crowd which had gathered there only a few hours before.

"Well, which one is it?" Victoria said, glancing between the three identical tents.

"They came out of the middle one, earlier," Susan said. "Maybe we should try that one first?"

Victoria didn't like the sound of 'first', but now wasn't the time to kick up a fuss. They were too exposed. So they crept up to the middle tent and, after checking that the coast was clear, ducked through the heavy flap.

It definitely wasn't Hagrid's tent. Framed photographs of Gilderoy Lockhart stared down at them from every direction, winking at them from the tent's walls. At the centre of the room was a sturdy desk covered in paperwork, resting on a huge rug which dominated the floor, and to the rear of the tent was a four-poster bed.

"I'm pretty sure Hagrid doesn't like Lockhart this much," Victoria said dryly. "Come on, let's check the next one."

"Hang on," Susan said, and there was a look of curiosity on her face. Her eyes were set on Lockhart's desk. "Do you think…?"

She tiptoed forward.

"Susan!" Victoria hissed. "What are you doing?"

"I just want a look," Susan said. She reached the desk and started riffling through the papers. "He must have brought it with him… aha!"

She picked up a very familiar-looking manuscript. It was the first draft of Lockhart's next book, the one he'd made Victoria promise not to tell anyone about.

Victoria sighed. "Fine, but be quick! I'll keep look-out." She parted the tent flap and pressed her eye to the gap, which was just wide enough to see outside. "Coast is clear."

"Thanks." The swish of turning pages came from the direction of the desk. "I know all this already," Susan muttered. The page turning accelerated; she must have been skipping whole sections of the manuscript to get to the end. And then she paused. Had she reached the final twist?

"Victoria," Susan said, her voice trembling. "You… you need to see this."

Glancing over her shoulder, Victoria saw that Susan was no longer grinning. Her eyes were glued to the page and her jaw was set.

"What, does it have a bad ending?" Victoria joked, but Susan just beckoned impatiently.

"Quickly! We can't stay long, not now."

Victoria shrugged, let the tent's flap fall shut and joined Susan by the desk.

"Here," Susan said, turning the manuscript to face her and pointing to a specific paragraph. Her finger was shaking. "Read this."

I dearly wish I had realised it sooner. How could I not have seen it before? Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin, and there I was, alone with him in the wilderness, with only the incompetent Professor Snape to support me, and seventy children under my care.

I ran with all the speed I could muster, but it was too late. By the time I reached Hagrid in the Chamber of Secrets, his dark work was complete. I dispatched him quickly, but there was no reversing what he had done.

Victoria Potter, the Girl Who Lived, was dead.

"Dead?"

It was like Victoria's brain had frozen. She read the final sentence again and again, unable to comprehend it, or perhaps just unwilling. But through the confusion, there was no stopping the deep, dark feeling of dread which pooled in her stomach.

She looked up at Susan's distraught face, as if she might be able to explain that Victoria had misunderstood; that there was no way that Lockhart could have been behind everything. "What…?"

"It's him," Susan confirmed grimly. "It's Lockhart. He's the Heir of Slytherin."

A slow clap sounded from behind them; they spun around, hearts in their mouths.

Professor Lockhart was standing in the entrance to the tent, a smile on his face.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," he said, giving them a mock bow. "Enter stage right."