Nothing. There was absolutely nothing of relevance in the Restricted Section. It was like someone had deliberately cleared out the whole place. Oh sure, she could brush it off as Wizards being ignorant, but there was something else at work here— places where there once lay books were now empty and covered with dust. Any works deeper than those acknowledging the existence of demons simply did not appear in that library.

Every time she made progress, every time she thought she had finally found something that may keep her free, she was set back. It was one step forward and three steps back. Even on Halloween, a day on which both the students and professors were of their guard, she could find nothing significant. One thing, however, was quite interesting. Whoever had removed the books years ago likely did so with knowledge of her heritage. It was too large of a coincidence in her opinion. Demon worship was rare amongst Wizards, and they certainly did not get their texts from schools. The very thought of that possibility was alarming. She'd need to take extra care around professors in the future. Who knows what they want from her?

Well, whatever it is, they could not keep her in check— such was her nature. Nobody here held any power over her nor will they. She had no intentions of making friends here. None of them could possibly understand her, and she preferred it that way. They should have a normal childhood.

She stopped in her tracks. Multiple footsteps were coming directly towards her. No more than four students. When everyone should be in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast? And in a remote part of the castle like this? There was nothing here but unused rooms and dusty broom closets. Unless they were students that had got very lost on their way to the library, they could not be up to anything good. Time to find out who it was and see if she could scare them off. It was unnecessary to use her powers for this. Students were not dangerous.

And so she stood silently behind the nearest corner, waiting for the group of likely delinquents to come close. They kept getting nearer and nearer. A pair of heavy footsteps and one much lighter. When they were just around the corner, she jumped out and blocked their path.

'Malfoy.' He jumped back, along with his two goons. 'What brings you to this part of the castle? During a holiday feast to boot.'

'Potter.' He brushed the dust off his robes and then smirked. 'I was, in fact, looking for you.'

'Me?' she raised an eyebrow. 'Whatever for?'

'Well, I happened to notice that you were absent from the feast. Naturally, being the dutiful student I am, I notified my head of house. To my great relief, he then told me that you "Do not feel like celebrating the anniversary of your parents' death". Goyle here suggested we come cheer you up.' He pointed to the burly boy. 'Didn't you, Goyle?'

The boy in question looked at Malfoy dumbly before nodding. 'Right. I did.'

How wonderfully thoughtful of them. 'I'm sure you did. Now stop treating me like a fool and tell me what you want.'

Malfoy's smirk fell. 'You've been avoiding me since our first day in class. In fact, you've been avoiding everyone. Even the professors, I hear.'

'Well that is a lie. Just because I refuses to broadcast my presence to everyone around me does not mean I avoid them.' When will he quit?

'Hmph.' He scrunched his nose. 'That changes nothing. I came here to make you an offer and whether or not you are the quiet type is not terribly important.'

An offer? Must be politics, if her primitive empathic abilities are anything to go by. 'I'll hear you out, but don't get your hopes up. I do not practise Pureblood culture'

If that shook him up, he did not show it. 'If you were to be publicly seen in my presence, it would be a boon not only to me, but to you—'

'Let me stop you right there. I am not interested. I don't like posturing and I dislike politics even less.' Well, she disliked posturing and overblown egos. Politics just so happened to be full of it.

Malfoy sneered but did not say anything. Him and his bodyguards promptly turned around and left.

Ugh. What a brat. Both the students and the faculty were unimpressive and highly disappointing. All of them caught up with their own selfish interests. Well, her peers could still grow out of it. She shouldn't be too harsh to them.

Out of nowhere, her stomach made itself known. Was it that late already? Good thing the headmaster had arranged for her dinner to be ready besides her bed just for this occasion. With dinner in mind, she walked back to the Ravenclaw Tower.

As expected, her dinner was on her bedside table. It was nothing much, just chicken soup and a sandwich. The elves must not have known what to give her, not like it mattered. She would eat anything; she wasn't picky. She ate it then and there before going back down to the common room with a demonology book disguised as her charms text. The text was interesting; it speculated about the realms where demons resided. Was it all burning fire, scorching heat, and death, or was it teeming with life so unique beyond mortal comprehension? The text made her wonder, how did her father come into being?

The common room door opened and interrupted her reading, along with a horde of students led by a prefect. Judging by the variety in ages and the sheer loudness of them all, the entire house was present. By Azar, what had happened?

It was then that they all noticed her presence. First it was... shock? Surprise? Then came relief; especially from the prefects. One of the prefects spoke up. 'Thank Merlin you're here, Potter. You scared as half to death when we realised you were not amongst the others. Where on Earth were you?' she asked, arms crossed over her chest.

'In the library until an hour and a half ago, then I came here. You can ask the professors if you want to. I had permission from the headmaster, you know. Now, will somebody tell me what is going on?'

'I will ask, don't you worry about that. As for what is going on, well, apparently a troll is loose in the dungeons.' she said. The prefect then sat down in an armchair and rubber her temples. 'What a mess.'

'A troll?' She looked at the prefect wide eyed. 'Penelope, Granger has been crying in the girl's toilet since our charms class. She doesn't know about the troll!'

Once again, fear— no, panic. 'Gryffindor's resident bookwork?' Penelope looked around, focusing on place to place. 'Drat. Right, I'll get the paintings to inform the teachers. Thankfully, paintings move much faster when a student's life is involved.' She got up immediately and ran up to a painting above the fireplace.

The paintings could search the castle fast in an emergency, but someone's life was at stake here. Would they be fast enough? No, she had to get involved personally. But how? The common room was packed with students. Suddenly, it hit her. The toilet! It would be tight and uncomfortable for what she had in mind, but there was no better place right now.

Not wanting to raise suspicion, she walked up the stairs and into the bathroom stall furthest away from the door. It was tighter than expected. She'd have to sit back against the side wall. Thanks to the design of the stalls, she would have to levitate. Great. Just great. Hopefully she won't break a limb. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and floated into the air. Once she was stable, she crossed her legs and chanted. 'Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!'

Her consciousness left her body behind and phased through wall after wall, trying to find Granger before it was too late. Everything was a blur and she saw so much more. Once she was on the first floor she could see the path of destruction left by the troll. Then she heard a scream, a girl's scream. She rushed to the toilet and slammed into the massive body of a troll with full force. It fell over and she was back in her body, awkwardly floating above a dirty toilet seat.

She'd done it. She saved her, even though nobody will ever know it. Immediately, she sat down on the toilet, relief washing over her. After a few moments she grabbed her knees. It was a good feeling, saving Granger. After all, if she had left her to her fate, she would be as vile as her father. Someone who did not care about others. Her plan was all wrong, and she saw that now. By focusing solely on her father, she gave way to his influence. How much suffering could have been avoided if she had been less naive, less selfish? Worst of all, her driving force had been fear. Fear! No more.

She could find a way to stop her father without and fight crime without running away from things that she needed to confront. From now on she would fight crime not out of atonement, but in order to good and make people safe in what could be their last days. To start with, however, she needed a good night's sleep. She walked out of the toilet and into her dormitory. Sleep came quick to her.

The next morning had been the same as all the others before. The day was no different, and neither was the next one nor the one after. She would get up, go to class, and frighten petty criminals. Her search for demon lore would continue to run into dead ends. All the same, up until it was not.

In retrospect, she should have realised the necessity of peak physical condition before confronting someone nearly three times her size. It was the damned wizarding world's fault. If she had not been so bloody famous she could have simply not attended. Then she could have continued her training with the monks of Azarath instead of wasting her time.

'I don't care what those superstitious fools say; there are no such things as ghosts!' said the large bald thug. 'You're human, and I'll prove it here and now!' The thug charged at her obscured form.

She dodged him easily, yet he had almost hit her. A potential disaster has just been avoided. Knocking him out was top priority. One hit from this man and she would be out cold. 'Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!' she cried, and a powerful ray of energy slammed right into the thug's head. Hopefully, she had not done any permanent damage.

All the commotion had surely attracted the attention of the police by now. Still, it would not hurt to be thorough. She pulled out a pair of handcuffs and then wrapped the man's hands around a street sign before finally cuffing him. After all was done, she opened a portal and stepped through it and into her hideout.

By Azar, this place was filthy. Pieces of the wall's plaster were everywhere and the furniture she had salvaged was dusty. An issue for a later date— right now she had to get stronger. She had no weights, however, so improvisation would be necessary. What to improvise with, though? The other rooms were completely cleaned put. The basement was not, but that was only because she had filled it. There was nothing of use there either. There was nothing on the inside. Inside… that was it! There was a pile of sand in the backyard left over from some construction project or other. All she had to do was fill a series of empty water bottles and canisters, and those she had plenty in case of an emergency.

And so she went in and out of portals, working on her improvised gym. Half an our later, two dozen bottles and canisters sat in her basement filled with sand. That was the first part of her gym done. Now she needed to get a secondary source of instructions. After all, books can only tell you so much about martial arts. If she wants to get anywhere remotely close to peak condition, she needs demonstrations and possibly an instructor.

In the same disposal yard in which she had grabbed her furniture from there had been a television. An old one, but still functional. She brought it straight home, plugged it in, and turned it on. There must be some programme on this thing that dealt with martial arts, so she cycled through the channels a bit. Just when she passed the sports section, an interesting news segment came along. It was a local TV station, and the programme was called Ongoing Criminal Incidents. An armed robbery of a postal office in John Waverly's Street had just turned into a hostage situation. The postal office's only employee, an elderly lady, was the unfortunate victim and unless an escape vehicle was supplied within the hour, she will die. Well, she could not let that happen, could she? Her martial arts will have to wait for another day.

She put on her terrifying disguise and took to the roofs. That street was only a few blocks away. Ten minutes via the aerial route. When rundown apartment buildings gave way to concrete giants, so did the police blockade. She perched herself on the highest building around and assessed the situation. The police did not look like they were going to do anything. The pair of robbers were fiercely discussing something. She could not tell what, but they were angry. One of them carried a gun while the other wielded a baseball bat.

An easy situation to handle, with her powers at least. This view revealed the entire front area of the post office. The best solution would be to open a portal on the wall behind the quarrelling pair. They may have been clever enough to use the counter as cover, but that would not help them against her. Right then, it was time for action.

She opened a portal and jumped through it, making one of the robbers fall backwards. The other one only jumped back a little before swinging his bat at her. It hit her spell-reinforced arm and shattered to pieces.

Now it was her turn. She hit his calf with her leg, making him lose balance. His head banged against the floor. Immediately she turned to the other robber, who was reaching for the gun he had dropped, and stepped on his hand. 'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' she told him. The robber tried to push her off, so she knocked him out with a punch to the face. Good thing she had thought to empower her hands with a spell. Judging by the bruises on these two, it made her hit like a truck.

The police officers on the outside had apparently overheard their fight and were quickly approaching. She needed to get out of here before they spotted her. It's not like they were going anywhere.

With a quick chant to compensate for the distance and a motion of her hand, the portal sprung open. She stepped through and found herself back in her basement. It had been a quick job. She still had time to practise. She squeezed her free time dry, not stopping until she was cutting very close to Hogwarts' dinner time. Finally, she stopped and moved to open a portal, but stopped when she noticed the sweat on her arm. In fact, she was sweaty all over. There was no way she could go to Hogwarts like this!

She quickly showered, put on her school robes, and chanted. 'Azartah. Metrion. Zinthos!' In a flash, she disappeared and reappeared in one of the many broom closets. She listened for footsteps, and once she was relatively sure that nobody was around, she hurriedly walked out and made her way to the Great Hall. Surprisingly, the doors were wide open and she could hear Headmaster Dumbledore making a speech.

'… will be made for their stay to be as comfortable as if they were at home. I wish you all a merry Christmas and a happy new year!' he said, eyes smiling and gently smiling. Murmurs rose and everyone turned back to their meal. 'Do not forget to inform your Head of House if you decide to stay for the holidays!' he called.

So, she could stay here during the holidays? This is a golden opportunity for her to explore the teachers' private libraries. Then there was the mystery of the Forbidden Corridor on the third floor. The rumour mill said that a giant, three-headed dog was in one of the rooms there, but that sounded bizarre and dangerous. Those things were hard to train, and she was not that confident in Hagrid's abilities.

She made her way to the teachers' table, beelining for Professor Flitwick who was just finishing his dinner. 'Professor, I would like to stay for the Holidays.'

'Truly? Well, I cannot say that I expected this from you, Miss Potter. I was under the impression that you would be staying with those monks. What in Merlin's name happened?'

'Oh, nothing happened, professor. I just find the castle so incredibly interesting. There are many things to learn in a place so old, and don't get me started on the peace and quiet I'll have.'

'Ah, so that's how it is, eh? Well, Miss Potter, you wouldn't be the first Rawenclaw with that particular motivation. Very well, I shall add your name to the list.'

'Thank you, sir,' she said and walked off to bed.

Most of the other students were gone by the time she arrived for breakfast. It was an eerily odd experience, sitting with so few people in a hall so large. Most of her housemates were reading along side her, but she was quickly running into a problem. Her pile of unread books was dangerously short, and there was only so much time she could spend on pointless stakeouts and physical training. She needed another pastime. Thankfully a red-headed Gryffindor boy was playing Wizard's Chess. Salvation. Time to go say hello.

'Good morning. Need a partner for a match?'

'Sure! I've nobody else to play with. Everybody says I'm too good. Hey, wait a minute, you're Violet Potter!' The boy jumped up from his seat. 'I'm Ron. You know, from the train. You remember me, right?'

'How could I possibly forget?' Indeed, the boy had made quite an… impression.

'Wow, and here I thought you'd dismiss me as some nobody. Well, come on, have a seat.'

She eyed the board, then the cushion, before she finally sat down and turned the black side towards her,

'Ah, you prefer playing black, do you? Well, you are the guest I suppose.' With that Ron rearranged his figures and made the first move of the match.

He was as good as he had claimed, that much was obvious after the first few moves. She could feel his confidence too. 'So, how is Gryffindor? I've got to say that Ravenclaw has given me no reason to complain.'

'Oh, it's a blast,' he said. 'There is always something fun going on in the common room, though that isn't always a good thing— at least for me, anyway. It's my brothers, you see. Fred and George love to use me as a test subject for their ideas. I'm going to make them pay for that one of these days.'

'They sound like a major cause of headaches for the teachers.' For her too, if she ever got to know them.

'You have no idea. I've lost count of the sheer number of things they've managed to accomplish. They're good at what they do, I'll give them that. And they throw great parties.'

'Parties are not really my thing. I'm not the type.'

'Not your thing? Must be a bookworm thing. Granger is the same.'

'Speaking of Granger, you wouldn't know if anything interesting has happened since that troll got loose, would you? The teachers refused to tell me anything.'

'Not about the troll I don't, but I do know something about the third-floor corridor.' Ron grinned excitedly.

Now this, this could be interesting. 'Go on.'

'You know the gruesome death Dumbledore was talking about? Turns out it is a large three-headed dog!'

'I've heard that rumour.' she sighed. 'A cerberus, really?'

'It's true, I swear! Me, Dean, and Seamus nearly got detention for being out after curfew. Anyway, Hermione got really curious so the four of us went to see Hagrid, and you know what he tells us? The damned beast is his! It even has a name— Fluffy!'

'Fluffy? Seriously?' That man needs to get his head checked. The dog being at the school she could understand; it was obviously guarding something important. Having it as a pet, though? Absolute insanity. At least she now knew Ron wasn't lying to her. He radiated conviction, not deceit.

'I know, right? Who names a giant dog Fluffy! Anyway, we pestered him to tell us more, but the most we could make him say is that the dog is guarding something for Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. What that something is, we have no idea.'

Nicolas Flamel? Well, if he wanted something guarded here, then that something could only be one thing. 'The Philosopher's Stone.'

'I'm sorry?' asked Ron, quite startled.

'Nicolas Flamel is the maker of the Philosopher's Stone. That has to be it.'

'And you knew that? Wow, Hermione won't believe me when she hears about this. I can't wait to see the look on her face!'

The praise did not come to her easily. 'Yes, well, I'm really well read.'

'Nah, you saved us a ton of trouble. Now we know what Snape is after!'

'You're welcome, but … Snape?'

'Right, you wouldn't know. He's been trying to get past that bloody dog and whatever else is hidden behind it!'

'But how do you know that?'

Ron grinned. 'It's that limp he had. You must have seen it.'

Indeed, professor Snape did sport a nasty limp around Halloween. 'Now that you mention it, I do. I did not think much of it at the time, though.' She fixed him with a suspicious stare. 'Do you mean to say that he tried to get past Fluffy while the troll was loose?'

'That's what we figure. Well, that's what me, Dean, and Seamus figure. Hermione doubts that it's him.'

That girl was clever. There was no way it was Snape. He had been in this school forever. 'Really? How come? With the way he skulks around like an overgrown bat, you'd think he is always planning something sinister.'

'Hell if I know what goes on in her head. I don't understand girls in general, let alone her,' he said, then waved his hands at her. 'Um, sorry. I didn't mean it like that.'

Moments like these were a reminder of her early days at Azarath, so full with childish wonder. Ah, children. 'Don't worry about it. It's fine.'

Ron shook his head and muttered something unintelligible. His cheeks were quite red— the poor boy was apparently quite easy to embarrass. Was that a product of him having so many older siblings, or was it because she was a girl?

'Anyway, what should we do about it. We can't let Snape steal the Stone!'

'You should do nothing. We are in the middle of the holidays and the rest of your friends already went home. On your own, you do not stand a chance against professor Snape, not to mention that the other professors will never believe you that the Stone is in danger.'

'I mean you and me. You will help us, right?'

Did he seriously believe that she will join them in their brilliant idea of going up against a professor, who might not even be guilty at all, and challenging whatever protections Dumbledore had arranged?

'I am certainly not getting involved with this mess, at least not directly. Do you seriously believe that we would stand a chance?'

'So you're not going to help!?'

Oh, she did. She wanted to investigate and potentially deal with the prospective thief if an opportunity arose, but on her own accord. Not in front of a loudmouth like Ron Weasley. However, she really did not need enemies and rivals right now. Ugh, dammit! 'If you need something found in the library or someone watched, I can lend a hand, but that's it,' she told him. Please let that be enough for him to shut up.

Weasley grunted and made his next move on the chess board. 'Check!'

Huh, well would you look at that. It was a check. Unfortunately for him, he overlooked her distraction peon. In one move, she blocked his check and pulled one of her own. 'Checkmate. You almost had me there.'

He, however, did not seem to mind. In fact, he looked quite pleased. 'Merlin, you sure know how to play a round. Most of my mates are complete rubbish. Great match, I'll have to mention this in my next letter home! Wanna go for a rematch?'

Boy, he was fired up. Too bad she had her day planned out already. Burglaries are always on the rise at this time of year. 'Sorry, but no. Perhaps another day. See you around, and try not to get in trouble until the rest of your inquisitorial squad gets back.'

'Uh, yeah, you too. Happy Christmas!'

'Happy Christmas, Ronald,' she said and walked away.

Ah, Christmas. It was not a holiday that Azarathians celebrate, and her Christmases with the Dursleys were… well they were not something she was fond of. Cheer was not her strong suit; holiday cheer even less so. Maybe one day she will have a quiet celebration with some close friends, but that will not be anytime soon. Definitely not during this holiday break. Christmas is tomorrow, after all. This one would pass smoothly.

The very next day she was woken up by rustling of paper and excited chatter. Typical, but rude nonetheless. She got up and went down to see the mess herself, and found it to be as messy as she had expected. That is to say, like a bomb went off. Very typical indeed. What was not typical, however, was the neatly wrapped present with her name on it. She opened it with more than a little bit of curiosity. It was a cloak. A long and very fine silk cloak. As she inspected it, a card fell out. She put the cloak under her arm and seized the card. Written in narrow, loopy letters were written the following words:

'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.' There was 'A Very Merry Christmas to you.' written at the end, but no signature. How curious.

If she new anything a wizard's cloak, and she knew quite a bit, it was that the most common ones were invisibility cloaks and the like. There was no way that she would let everyone here see her turn invisible, so back up to the dorms it was. She quietly slipped away from the excited crowd and once she was in the privacy of the girls' dorms she put the cloak on. Sure enough, the entirety of her body below the neck vanished. Very useful, at least for the time being. To be invisible was an immensely powerful ability in her line of work, although she did not require it.

Well then, now what? It was Christmas, and everyone would be busy celebrating in one way or another. If there was ever a day to indulge herself, then it was today. She had never seen Santa hand out gifts to children before.

The whole festival ended up being quite interesting and an excellent change of pace. She decided to sneak out a few more times while it lasted. All in all, her holidays continued to go well. The return to school, however, went in the completely opposite direction. Not even an hour into the return feast she was ambushed by Granger and the Gryffindor boys sans Neville Longbottom on her isolated corner of the table.

'What is the real reason you don't want to join us? We could really use an extra hand,' said Granger.

What a girl. Demanding answers with her arms on the hips like some princess. 'I already told you exactly how far I'm willing to go. My decision will not change.'

She looked really put out by that and ready to protest, but Finnigan grabbed her by the shoulder. 'Come on now, Hermione. Not everyone is a Gryffindor. Between the three of us boys and the smartest witch in the first year, we'll do just fine.' That pacified the girl, and a few moments of awkward staring later they went back to their own table.

Sweet Azar, how aggravating they were. She hoped that they would stop bothering her, or at the very least fail to make progress with the dog. She sure as hell did not want them to get in her way when this mess finally culminated. For now, all she could do is make plans.