The last few days of Christmas Break spent in comfortable silence. Harry had faced Ron at chess a total of six times and had lost a total of seven times after having taken over Neville's match in pity for the round-faced boy.
Interestingly to Harry was the fact that his out-of-control bursts of magic had seemed to die down. His hand still randomly glowed at times as evidence when they caught Fred and George jumping out of a secret passage near a random gargoyle. The two boys had spent all weekend badgering Harry about whatever cool spell he did to get his hand to glow.
Luckily Harry was nothing if not resourceful. He gave them a book on color-changing spells as a gesture of goodwill. He got a particular satisfaction out of watching the two red-heads become a flashing rainbow for an entire day.
He was almost disappointed when McGonagall reversed it.
As soon as the train arrived, their peaceful vacation came to an abrupt halt.
Still, he denied the fluttering in his stomach when he spotted a figure with bushy-brown hair in the sea of black cloaks that was the returning students.
"Harry!" Hermione had caught his eye with a huge smile, lighting up her face as she took off down the Great hall in a run towards them.
Harry ignored Mara's teasing looks as he jumped up to meet her and she went slamming into his arms. He staggered a bit from the force of her hug, her arms wrapping around his neck. He steadied the energetic girl by wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Oh!" Hermione pulled back, her face alight with her excitement. "I do hope your holidays were alright! France was delightful of course! The food, the art, the people! I even managed to find a few wizarding locations. Did you know in France they have many different laws in the statue of secrecy? They have wizards performing on the streets all the time! The acrobat display I saw was using real magic! All the muggles believed it was stage magic!"
Hermione paused, seeming to catch herself, giving him an embarrassed look.
"Sorry," She looked at him with guilt.
Harry smiled, shaking his head fondly.
"Your eagerness to learn is charming as always, Hermione," He told her honestly.
Hermione's cheeks turned pink.
"Well, I'm dethroned as Harry's best friend," Neville gave the two a sly grin. "Whatever will I do?"
Harry rolled his eyes, letting go of Hermione to slip down at the table across from where he had abandoned a chess match with Ron.
Hermione slipped into the seat beside him, still beaming.
"Don't be dramatic, Nev. I would never cheat on you," He winked at Neville, who laughed.
"Did you enjoy your presents, Hermione?" Mara's eyes glittered at the thought.
"Of course! I was pleasantly surprised to have so many new books to read!" Hermione gushed. "It was very thoughtful to send me a copy of wizarding fables."
Hermione's cheeks turned pink as she paused.
"They were certainly…" She hesitated, looking at Harry, who smirked at her. Mara beamed at the girl, edging her to go on.
"Unique.." Hermione finished lamely, fidgeting in her seat.
"It's my favorite book! I own six copies so when we were in Diagon Alley, Harry told me that you would've never read any wizarding fairytales!"
"My favorite's Babbity Rabbity," Ron grinned. "Mum used to read it all the time."
"That one is from The Tales of Beetle the Bard," Harry explained at Hermione's confused face. "Mara sent her Wables Fables."
"Wables Fables!" Ron gaped. "Oh, how could you send her that one?"
"And what's wrong with Wables Fables?" Mara's eyes narrowed onto the red-haired boy's dangerously.
"It's terrible! Every tale is worse than the last! Did you read the Random Rainbow Race?" Ron moaned. "I still have nightmares from the disaster that was that book. How you could even sit through that horre-"
Neville's hand slammed over Ron's mouth, cutting off whatever Ron attempted to say next. Mara's face was as red as a tomato as she glared down Ron with a death stare Harry had only seen two other times.
The first, when Uncle Sirius destroyed her favorite wolf plush. The second, when she had met Lucius Malfoy. Both ended with the males carrying a bloody nose.
"Wables Fables is a work of art that simple-minded, ignorant half-wits like you are unable to comprehend the pure genius behind the author," Mara sniffed, raising her chin haughtily. She looked so much more like their mum in that instance that Neville's hand went slack as he gaped at her. Ron pushed Neville's hand away with a scowl.
Ron raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms.
"Didn't the author die trying to apparate into a volcano?" Ron asked.
Mara's face flushed red.
Neville sighed, looking towards Harry pleadingly.
Harry shrugged, turning back to Hermione.
"We found Nicholas Flamel," Harry stated.
The fight died before it could begin. Every head snapped to him, including Hermione.
She bit her lip, casting a wide-eyed glance at Mara.
"We told her everything," Harry reassured the intelligent girl.
Hermione's face crumpled into relief, sighing as her shoulders slumped as if he had taken a great burden from her.
Harry's stomach twisted in guilt. He brushed it away, focusing on Hermione's sharp gaze as she turned to him.
Her eyes which were normally a light brown, he had noticed, were more of a molten amber whenever she was learning.
Hermione craved knowledge like Mara craved chocolate.
It was a borderline addiction.
Probably not healthy but it could be worse in his opinion.
"Where'd you find him?" Hermione demanded, her eyes searching Harry's for any clue or sign.
"I did, actually," Mara grinned. She straightened her shoulders in pride as Hermione looked at her in amazement.
"He wasn't in a book?" Hermione asked, confused. Harry stifled a laugh at the pouting look Mara shot her.
"I do read sometimes, Hermione," She protested though her cheeks had a light coating of pink.
"Was he in a book?" Hermione asked but more skeptical this time.
"No, she found him on the back of a chocolate frog card," Neville explained with a grin.
"She only found him cause she's obsessed," Ron added, nodding along.
"You're one to talk. At least I've got Agrippa!" Mara shot back, annoyed.
Ron's ears burned red as he shot Mara a furious glance.
Harry could already see that Mara had hit a touchy subject. He sent a kick to his sister's knee under the table.
Neville yelped, shooting Harry an accusing glance. Harry sent him an apology, gesturing to Mara with his eyes as she prepared to start another argument with Ron.
Neville sighed, laying a hand on the shoulder of both children before squeezing a little too hard. He slid between them on the bench with a firm look.
"Children, behave," He warned, shooting them each a stern glance.
The two friends relented but sent each other glares through where Neville separated them on the bench.
"A chocolate frog card," Hermione's voice was a whisper. Harry turned to her concerned. Her mouth was open in disbelief, her eyes completely wide but glazed over.
She looked as if he had told her books were no longer printed.
"Mione?" He asked, concerned.
Hermione was much smarter than they thought she was.
"Who?" Hermione asked, staring at the table unseeingly.
"He's an alchemist," Harry told her, sending a concerned look to his friends. Ron, of course, avoided everyone's eyes, finding the table much more interesting as he stuffed his face with a pastry to avoid the situation.
"Alchemist," she murmured.
Her eyes went even wider as she came back to herself. She slammed a hand onto the table, her eyes alit in fury.
"I'm an idiot!" She hissed but she didn't wait to explain, instead of jumping from the table and stalking down the hall.
Harry wasted no time in scrambling to follow her, his worry for the bushy-haired girl overwhelming his rational thoughts.
"I'm such an idiot!" Hermione whispered in exasperation as she stormed through the library door. Harry sighed as the group of four poured into the library, watching Hermione in her determined anger as she stalked through the library doors.
Harry was pretty used to Hermione storming off into the library but this time there was a harsh tenseness that only increased. Harry took a seat at a nearby table, knowing this could take a while. Mara, Neville, and Ron took seats as well, still sending concerned glances to where Hermione was mumbling to herself, a finger trailing across the books on the shelves.
The group of four waited for their bushy-haired friend as she disappeared around the pile of books.
When she returned, she was carrying the largest book harry had ever seen (which was impressive since he had seen some large books). She huffed as she slammed it down on the table, whether from the weight of the humungous book or her fury, he didn't know.
She bit her bottom lip as she tore through the book, trailing her finger across every page.
"I had assumed that he had to have been from the last few centuries. He worked with Dumbledore and Hagrid spoke about him in the present tense." She ranted, her breath coming in short gasps.
"He's not?" Ron asked, eyeing the book like it would attack him. His face looked a little pale at the humungous text.
"Of course not!" Hermione snapped, her eyes not lifting off the page. "He's an alchemist! I should've realized it sooner!"
"Well, thanks to my expert knowledge, we now know where to look," Mara sent the group a smug look, her arms crossed her chest.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Expert knowledge on chocolate maybe. You got lucky."
"I resent that," Mara raised her chin, narrowing her eyes at Harry.
"I resent you," Harry commented back, not even flinching at her harsh glare. He sent her a brief smile to let her know he was kidding and Mara stuck out her tongue at him playfully.
"So mature," Harry sneered.
"Your mum's mature," Mara snapped back.
Harry snorted. "We have the same mum idiot,"
Mara's cheeks flamed red but he knew her well enough that she wouldn't back down.
"Say that to my face!" Mara glared.
"I am saying that to your face. How bout I get you a dictionary so you can get some better insults," Harry smirked as she gasped in horror.
"Children, behave," Neville sent the two of them a narrowed glare. Harry smirked in triumph as Mara turned away, huffing.
Harry winced as something hard smacked the back of his head. He looked at Neville accusingly who raised an eyebrow.
"Stop antagonizing her," Neville crossed his arms.
"Yes, mum," Harry joked, rolling his eyes. Neville sent him a scathing look and Harry wisely decided to shut up, closing his mouth with a pop.
"I knew it! Here," Hermione said, her eyes alight with triumph. "Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the philosopher's stone!"
Harry's breathed hitched as he gazed at Hermione is disbelief.
He scrambled forward, tugging the book towards him with a fury. He scrolled down the page until he found the paragraph he was looking for.
The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel...
Nicholas Flamel…
They found him.
Harry didn't know whether to cry or scream in joy.
"The what?" said Ron and Mara in unison.
"Oh, honestly, don't you two ever read?" Hermione snapped but there was no heat behind it. Her brown eyes were glowing almost amber in the light as she looked between them, excitement clear on her face.
"Do you realize what this means?" Hermione asked, practically shaking out of her shoes.
Harry turned to her with an eager smile. "So that means-"
"What they're keeping in the third floor-" Hermione continued, her face bright.
"Is the Philosopher's Stone!" The two whisper-shouted delighted grins on their faces.
"Can one of you explain what the philosopher's stone is?" Ron bit out, staring between the two annoyed.
"Oh, uh, sorry," Hermione said, trying to tone down her excitement. "Here-read that."
She pushed the book in front of the two red-heads. Mara frowned but looked through the book while Ron flinched back like the book burned.
"I don't like books," Ron stated, gruffly. "Can't you just tell me?"
Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Ronald. It won't kill you to read a book."
"I don't like books," he restated, glaring back at her.
"How can you not like books?" Hermione huffed in exasperation. "Books are so important! Every piece of knowledge the human race has ever found and created recorded into their pages! Isn't that amazing?" Hermione was grinning, her eyes still alit with that strange glow.
Harry raised an eyebrow at her. Even he wasn't that excited about books.
"No," Ron bit out with no hesitation.
Hermione reared back like he had struck her. "Wha-?" she sputtered, her face turning red.
"Enough," Neville snapped at the two, already sensing a fight brewing. His gaze softened, turning to Hermione pleadingly. "Could you please tell us?"
"It's a substance that can turn any metal into pure gold," Harry told them, his excitement returning. He could only imagine the complicated magic used to create the stone.
"It also has the power to make the drinker immortal!" Hermione added.
"Drinker? Isn't it a stone?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry turned to him with a shocked look. That was actually a good question.
"Uh, well, alchemy is about changing substances. The stone can probably be melted down into a liquid," Harry explained. He sent an unsure look to Hermione, who looked as confused as he did.
"Then what's the point of turning it into a stone?" Ron snarked, crossing his arms. He sent them an expecting look.
Harry and Hermione exchanged open-mouth looks. Harry swallowed, shutting his mouth with a snap.
"Uh, I don't know," he admitted, shame creeping up in the form of blush.
"I'm sure it's in the book somewhere! I'll have to read it properly to answer that question, Ron!" Hermione nodded, determination covering her unsure expression.
"Immortality and unlimited gold? No wonder someone's after it!" Neville exclaimed his eyes wide as he studied the book over Mara's shoulder. "Anyone would want it!"
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in anything we read. He's not exactly recent is he?" Ron stated more than questioned.
"It says he celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday! When was this book printed?" Mara exclaimed, turning to Hermione with wide eyes.
"1903," Hermione replied instantly.
"So he's over seven hundred years old now?" Ron asked. "How could anyone ever want to be that old?"
Ron shook his head in disbelief.
"Oh, just think about everything he's he's lived through, all the knowledge he must've seen and discovered!" Hermione grinned, turning to Harry. Her excitement over the find returning with a vengeance.
Harry matched her grin with one of his own. "All the spells and magic that have been lost to time! All the history he must know!
"You two are swots," Ron commented.
Harry and Hermione glared at him simultaneously.
Ron shrugged. "I call it as I see it."
"Something's bothering me about this," Mara said, pushing the book away from her. She looked up at Harry whose emerald eyes met her hazel ones.
A silent conversation passed between them and Harry frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.
"Why would someone put something so important in a school for children?" Mara asked, lacing her fingers together in front of her. She looked particularly upset by this. "If this is what's hiding under the third-floor corridor, then why here? We're kids studying magic, not a vault at Gringotts."
Harry's eyes went wide as he turned to his sister in his revelation.
"Gringotts," He breathed, a grin flashing onto his face. "The break-in!"
Mara looked at him confused until realization crashed upon her. "Oh no." She shook her head.
"During the summer there was a break-in at Gringotts! Nothing was taken because it had been emptied out that same day," Harry grinned, "If they were hiding the stone in Gringotts, maybe they knew someone was after it and thought to move it. The only place safer than Gringotts is Hogwarts!"
"The wards!" Hermione joined in, a smile creeping up her features. "There's never been a breach in the Hogwarts wards so if they thought someone was going to steal it, the only place they could move it is here!"
"Someone did get through the wards, Hermione," Mara reminded her, "The troll at Halloween. Who's to say it won't happen again?"
Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "The Wards didn't fail though! The only way the troll could've gotten in is if someone from the inside let it in! There's no other explanation!"
Harry frowned. "No student could've let a mountain troll inside the school. The wards could only be bypassed by someone with a high ranking like a teacher."
"Then one of our teachers is trying to become immortal?" Neville asked, worriedly.
The group paused.
"That's a reasonable assumption, yes," Harry nodded.
"Now wait a minute!" Hermione frowned. "You can't seriously be suggesting that one of our teachers let in a mountain troll so they could steal the philosopher's stone."
"Do you have another explanation?" Harry raised an eyebrow expectingly.
Hermione swallowed, backing down. "It just doesn't make sense! Why would a teacher risk the students like this?"
"Why would professor Dumbledore risk the students like this?" Mara bit out, her gaze turning onto Hermione with a frown. "Something's not right."
"What do you mean?" Neville asked.
"Do you remember at the opening feast? Dumbledore said in front of the whole school where the stone was. He warned a bunch of curious, reckless children not to go someplace. He's a teacher, shouldn't he have known that would've just incentivized them to go?"
"Maybe he thought a warning would be good enough to deter them. Didn't he say we'd die 'a painful death'? That's a warning enough for me," Neville shook his head.
"But it's not! Fred and George got into the third floor the first week. Parvarti and Lavender told me," Mara frowned. "It's a simple unlocking charm. It's a first-year spell. Anyone could've walked right in and come face to face with that Cerberus. Who knows how many people could've gotten hurt?"
Neville and Harry shared a concerned glance.
She had a point.
"Why would they let children, let alone magical children have access to that beast? If they hadn't said anything and used a stronger charm on the door, no one would be any the wiser," she frowned up at Harry, meeting his eyes. "It's almost like they wanted someone to find it."
"Why would they want someone to go to the third floor?" Ron asked exasperatedly. "Anyone with a brain would've taken one look at the three-headed dog and run the other way."
"Besides the twins," Ron added, scowling as Mara opened her mouth to retort. Her mouth shut with a snap.
"I'm not sure. This whole thing doesn't feel right," Mara admitted shaking her head. She wrung her hands, looking down at her nails longingly.
"But I don't think this has anything to do with Harry's hand," Neville said, turning to his friend.
Harry paused as his four friends' eyes all fell on him. He bit cheek beneath his teeth, stopping himself from saying something.
It had been a long shot. He knew that from the beginning but…
"We still don't know that," Harry sighed, not ready to admit defeat. "It could've been because of whose after the stone or whoever let the troll in. It could've been backlash from a curse. There are too many variables."
"I've tried researching into runes but so far I've come up with nothing," Hermione shook her head. "I don't know what else to look for."
"You could try showing the Ancient Runes professor. She might know what it is," Mara suggested.
"No," He sent her a glare. "You can't tell anyone about this. Even in the wizarding world, it's not normal."
"What do you propose we do then, harry? We're running out of options," Neville asked.
Harry paused, looking up at the ceiling of the library. This year was getting more and more complicated. Every time they get an answer, ten more questions pop up. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.
Even if they find out who is after the stone, it's not like they'd be able to do anything. Confronting the teachers would mean having to admit why they started looking in the first place and that's not a conversation he'd like to have with anyone.
Though the observance of him is still an issue as showed by the over-attentive ghosts and paintings, it had died down somewhat after his talk with Dumbledore over the break.
Harry still wasn't quite sure to make of the man. On one hand, he seemed genuine but on the other, his familiar couldn't stand being in the same area. Aura had taken to keeping as far away from the headmaster as possible. She had a boiling hatred for the old man which Harry couldn't quite understand. Even Breena had warned him and Mara to be cautious around him, though she didn't explain why.
The headmaster probably knew that Breena and Aura disliked him or didn't trust him as they didn't reach out to the bond to him. Normally, they'd be able to communicate with Fawkes and Dumbledore through the familiar bond but since Breena and Aura had blocked the old man, there was no way he'd be able to share the frequency with them.
Like a radio, they switched to a different channel that Dumbledore has no access to.
Something was telling Harry that the stone was the right path. Even if they left the stone alone, someone was after it.
With his sister's luck, they'd get dragged into it anyway. If they found the stone first, maybe they'd be able to use it to see what's wrong with his hand. The Philosopher's Stone is known to have even more magical properties than immortality and turning objects into gold. There's no telling what could be done with it.
Maybe if they found it and returned it to Nicholas Flamel and his wife, they'd be willing to look at his hand.
Explaining that to his parents would be a pain though.
Harry bit his lips, weighing his options in his mind.
He nodded, his decision made. He turned to the group who were now chatting about schoolwork if Ron's bored expression was anything to go by.
They turned to him when he cleared his throat.
"So, how do we get passed a Cerberus?"
"So now I'm worried that it's all a setup!" Mara cried, slamming her head onto the desk, her hair falling around her like a curtain.
"Ow," She muttered pitifully but didn't move to pick up head off the table.
Lily quirked an eyebrow at her friend, exchanging a brief look with Killian across the table. The two had been listening to Mara's rant for about twenty minutes now.
As the two made eye contact, thee corner of Killians' mouth quirked into a small smirk. He made a gesture to the depressed red-head.
Lily sent him a scathing look but sighed, turning to her friend.
"It does sound suspicious," Lily admitted, her face scrunching up in thought. One hazel eye peeked out from the curtain that was Mara's hair, shining hopefully at her.
A warm feeling burst through her chest. She smiled placatingly at her friend, attempting to soothe her fears. She swallowed, hoping she wasn't going to regret helping her friend.
"But if you're right, Mara," Lily faltered, rubbing her thumbs together. She sent a brief look to Killian who only smirked back. "Who would have the resources and influence to pull of what you're suggesting?"
Lily frowned guiltily as she dropped the hint. She was going to pay for this later, she knew it.
"Who, indeed," Killian hummed, his eyes sparkling in curiosity. Lily winced, already knowing the boy had latched onto her brief hints of knowledge.
Mara shot up from the table, her eyes wide. She looked between the two of them in a fervor before her eyes narrowed onto Killian's amused expression.
"What do you know?" She asked, lowly.
Killian quirked an eyebrow, shrugging nonchalantly.
"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Miss Potter," Killian grinned. Mara's back stiffened at his words, narrowing her gaze onto his. " I know quite many things. Runs in the family, after all."
Mara's lips pursed, her annoyance shining through her eyes. She turned her eyes briefly to Lily's guilty ones. Lily only cringed and Mara's eyes softened.
Something Lily had learned about her friend. She never pushed Lily for answers. Something Lily was beyond grateful for at this moment.
"How much?" Mara huffed, crossing her arms at Killian.
Something else Lily had learned about her friend. She never knew when to quit. Something Lily knew was only going to get her into trouble this time.
Lily smacked herself with one hand, wincing at the harsh blow but feeling justified in listening to her friend's reckless behavior.
Killian grinned like a predator after prey.
"Mara, no," Lily whined, sending a worried glance between her companions. "Don't make any more deals with the devil."
"Superb use of metaphor, my sweet flower," Killian smirked at her, "But I do love your friend's enthusiasm. How can I say no?"
"I was being literal," Lily deadpanned at him.
"Ouch," Killian shook his head, laying a hand over his heart as if he had been wounded "That stings a bit. Don't you trust me, Moon?"
"No."
"That's fair," Killian shrugged, his shark-like grin turning to Mara, who's lips had quirked a bit in amusement.
Lily sighed. There was no stopping Mara now.
"What's the price, Grey?" Mara asked, staring down Killian like a pureblood.
"Depends on what you're asking, Potter," Killian said, with a large grin across his features.
"What do you know about the third floor, the Philosopher's Stone and Nicholas Flamel?" Mara asked, her lips thinning in determination.
Killian smirked. "That's pricey information, Potter. How are you willing to pay for it?"
Mara's mask faltered but only for a second. Killian had already seen it though.
The last thing Lily had learned about her friend is that Mara would be a terrible Slytherin. She had no cunning skills and couldn't lie to save her life. She was honest and wore her feelings in plain view, something Lily found endearing.
This time, however, was only going to get both Mara and her in trouble.
"I'll pay it," Lily glared at Killian, refusing to flinch as a predatory smirk crossed his face. It looked like he was about to eat her.
"Ah, ah, my sweet flower," Killian wagged a finger at her, a delighted grin on his face. "It's not you that wants a favor, no matter how much I'd love to be able to pry knowledge from that pretty little head of yours."
Lily frowned, half relieved that he wasn't going to take her up on it and half-guilty that she was relieved that her friend was going to get in trouble for this.
Killian turned to Mara, who struggled to keep her calm mask on her face. Lily shook her head silently, she could see Mara's panic in her eyes. Mara had already spilled everything about the situation to them so there was no information left to give.
At least none that Mara was willing to give out.
Killian let out a soft chuckle before shaking his head. "You know, I like you, Mara," His eyes twinkled with mischief as he surveyed Mara. He flicked his glance to Lily, who gave him a confused look before smiling kindly at Mara.
Mara's mouth dropped open in shock.
Lily was half-way there, to be honest. In all the months she'd known the Grey, not once had she seen him smile like that.
"Let's just say this one's on the house," Killian smiled, laying his cheek on his hand.
Mara's mouth opened and closed like a fish as she struggled to comprehend the situation.
"Huh?" She finally said. "Why?"
Killian chuckled. "I like you. You're terrible at secrets. Just the kind of person I like to keep around."
Realization crashed upon Lily as she smashed her head against the desk, not unlike what Mara had done moments earlier.
That brilliant bastard.
If he kept in Mara's good books, even befriended her then Killian would be able to get as much information from her that'd she be willing to blabber out.
Who knows what kind of information he had already smuggled from the unknowing girl.
Lily turned her head to stare at the grinning Ravenclaw, part in awe and part in fear. He leaned back, crossing his arms and putting his feet on the table.
When he caught her stare, he sent her a wink causing Lily's cheeks to turn pink.
Honestly, he should've been in Slytherin.
"Of course you two are still in the library," Mara huffed out as she spotted her brother, Ron and Hermione hunched over a massive pile of books. "Don't you have anything better to do with your lives?"
She dropped into the seat next to Ron, surveying the massive amount of books on the table.
Ron sent her an amused look, looking up for a parchment which she was pretty sure was their transfiguration homework from last week.
"That's assuming they have lives outside of books," Ron snorted.
Harry looked up from the book he had stuffed his face in, shooting a glare to the red-head who raised his arms in defense.
"Call it as I see it," Ron shrugged unapologetically. Then to Mara, he said, "They dragged me in here since this morning."
"It'd go a lot faster if you would help research too, Ronald, and not pretend to finish your homework," Hermione bit out with a glare.
"Hey!" Ron protested. "I've been working on this diligently!"
Hermione leaned over, snatching up the parchment with on hand.
"You spelled essay wrong," Hermione snorted.
Ron's cheeks flamed red. He growled, snatching the paper out of her hand.
"Maybe if you read actual books, you'd know how to spell," Hermione sniffed haughtily.
"I don't like books," Ron grumbled, smoothing the crumpled corners of his essay.
"Only if they have pictures," Hermione pointed out to the book of fairytales next to him.
"Hey!" Both Ron and Mara turned to her, glaring.
"I'm just saying if you read actual books instead of children's bedtime stories-"
Harry cut her off with a hand over her mouth.
"Let it go, Hermione," He shook his head, eyeing the dark looks on Ron and Mara's faces.
"Didn't you have remedial lessons today anyway, Ron?" Harry asked, turning nonchalantly back to the books.
Ron's face paled.
"Remedial lessons?" Hermione asked, turning to Harry with a frown. "I didn't know about any-"
"They're only for people who need them, Hermione," Mara cut her off with pursed lips, still a bit miffed. "You ace every class."
"That...That was today?" Ron gulped, his face now a ghastly white.
Harry raised an eyebrow, looking at Ron for a full minute before he too, started to pale.
"Don't tell me-" He stood up in his seat, horrified.
"I didn't mean to-" Ron stammered. "I forgot!"
"What is going on with you two?" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.
A look of realization covered Mara's face as she understood what had them so frightened.
"You skipped out on remedial lessons with McGonagall?" Mara whispered, her eyes wide.
The library went very silent. Mara didn't have time to understand why before Harry and Hermione's eyes went very wide, staring behind Mara like they'd seen a ghost.
"That would be correct, Miss Potter," A stern voice cut through the library.
Mara turned around in her chair very slowly, as if the shadow looming behind her was a panther and not a very stern teacher.
Ron's face was deathly pale as he audibly gulped.
"Hi, Professor," Mara whispered.
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed on Ron, conveying her disappointment with the thin white line that was her lips.
"Would you like to try for an excuse, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall raised a single eyebrow as if challenging him to say something.
"I..uh…" Ron's mouth opened and closed not unlike a goldfish.
"He lost track of time, Professor," Mara blurted out. A bead of sweat was beginning to develop around her hairline.
McGonagall's eyes narrowed onto Mara for a second.
"Is that so?" McGonagall stared down at her hard.
Mara was not a good liar.
Just before she was about to crack, Harry chimed in. "That's right, Professor. I asked Ron to come to the library with me so I could help him finish his transfiguration homework from last week. Neither of us realized how late it had gotten. I'm sorry." Harry lowered his head.
McGonagall eyed each of them carefully. Mara couldn't help but think that this was what a bug in a jar felt like.
"Hm, I admire your dedication to helping your friend, Mr. Potter. Do make sure to pay more attention in the future. Mr. Weasley," McGonagall barked his name. All four of them jumped.
"I believe it's time for your lessons," McGonagall sends him a stern look as if daring him to get out of it.
Ron gulped, nodding furiously in agreement.
"Come along then!" With that, McGonagall turned on her heels, stalking out of the library.
Ron sent them a pleading look but gathered up his essay and the few things he had brought, following after Professor McGonagall with a defeated look.
"I do not want to be him," Mara commented with a shiver as she wanted them to disappear around the corner.
Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Any luck then?" Mara turned to the books they had, eyeing a particularly large one with distaste.
"Not really," Harry sighed, shutting the book he was reading closed. A puff of dust shot out of the pages. Harry coughed, waving his hand to clear the cloud.
"For such a large library, you would expect them to have a book on every magical creature," Hermione huffed. "But so far, there's nothing on Cerberus except for Greek legends. Did you know the name Cerberus is a Latinized version of the Greek word 'Kerberos' which is theorized to mean spotted?"
"So Hades, God of death named his dog Spot?" Mara sent her an amused look.
"Yes," Hermione nodded.
"Good to know," Harry snorted.
"But not anything on how to get past one besides wrestling it," Hermione sighed. "Though one legend also claimed it had fifty heads."
"Fifty?" Mara exclaimed. "I can barely wrap my head around three!"
"Obviously, it's exaggerated," Hermione told her.
"All myths and legends are based at least a little bit of truth, Hermione," Harry said, opening up a new book.
"I hardly see the truth in a fifty headed dog who guards the entrance to the underworld," Hermione huffed.
"A three-headed dog known for guarding precious items does exist, though," Harry pointed out, not looking up from the pages.
"Is this what you two do all day?" Mara asked, judging only a little.
They both turned to her, their eyes lighting up with shock.
"It's really boring," Mara complained. "Why don't you take a break from books? We have a match to go to anyway."
Harry and Hermione frowned in unison.
"Match?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
Mara turned to glare at him but the shock overtook it once she realized that no, he was not kidding.
"Don't you two know what day it is?" Mara huffed.
"It's...Saturday?" Harry looked over at Hermione as if he was now questioning what day it was. Hermione nodded. Both looked so clueless that Mara almost felt bad for them.
Almost.
Mara rolled her eyes. "It's the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Match!" She threw her arms out dramatically, giving the two of them a wide grin.
Hermione looked back down to her book with a frown. "So? It's just Quidditch."
Mara reared back as if she had been struck, placing a hand over her heart. She gave them a betrayed stare.
Harry sighed, turning back to his book.
"Just Quidditch?" Mara's voice raised in volume as she stared at them horrified. "The Potter Family has had its ties with the sport for hundreds of years!"
Hermione and Harry both shot her a warning look as her loud voice caused a few students to look over, annoyed.
"Do you have no volume other than obnoxious?" Harry bit out with a glare.
Mara paid him no mind, waving her hands about as she prepared for her speech. "Why our great-great-great-great-great Grandfather funded and marketed the creation of the Golden Snitch. This led to the preservation of the Golden Snidget who had been critically endangered."
"Wait," Hermione looked up with wide, horrified eyes. "Are you saying they used to use actual birds?"
"It was a long time ago," Harry shook his head.
"Our Great-Great Uncle Albert played with the Wimbley Wavers until their disbandment in 1845 due to losing both of his legs in an unfortunate accident!"
"He lost his legs!" Hermione shouted, her face pale.
"It was a long time ago," Harry shook his head.
"That was less than 200 years ago," Hermione said pointedly, glaring at Harry.
"Well, they don't allow Free-Spell Tournaments anymore due to Uncle Albert's tragic end to his career," Harry said with a sigh.
"Even our own father was quidditch captain of the team that led Gryffindor to glorious victory 3 years in a row! There's still a plaque of him in the Trophy Room!"
"I've heard the stories, too, Mara," Harry sighed, "Repeatedly."
"Quidditch!" Mara slammed her hands on the desk, glowering down at the two. "Is in your blood, Harry. It's in your blood!"
"It's just one match, Mara." Harry sent her a deadpanned stare.
"But you promised," Mara finally whined collapsing back into her chair.
"Amaryllis Potter."
For the second time today, a shadow loomed over the table, like a cat who had finally trapped its prey in a corner.
Mara flinched, her eyes going wide. Harry and Hermione shared an amused look between themselves.
Mara turned around slowly to face her nemesis. The old, wrinkly and pinched face of Madam Pince stared down at her as if Mara was an annoying insect that Madam Pince had finally been able to swat and now stared down at the annoying thing, relishing in the few seconds before she stepped on it, ending its miserable life with glee.
"Yes, Miss Pince?" Mara asked, plastering on a deceivingly sweet smile.
Her attempts to convince the horribly strict librarian was not effective.
"Out," Madam Pince glared, pointing towards the door.
"But-" Mara protested.
"No buts! I've had to warn you three times this week alone, Miss Potter! I have had enough of your shrill screeching in My library. Out or you can take your groveling straight to detention."
Mara sent Harry and Hermione a pleading look, begging for their interference.
It was Hermione who took pity on her. Hermione stood up, facing Madam Pince with a regretful look.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Pince. We told her to be quiet, that it was rude and disrespectful to both you and the students who come here every day for a quiet place to study. We'll take full responsibility for this incident."
Mara's mouth dropped open.
Madam Pince's eyes softened on Hermione. "You two have been nothing but respectful while in the library. I will give you a break this time. Perhaps, you should consider having friends who are mute, they'd be a much better company."
"Hey!" Mara protested but Madam Pince shot her a look of fury that silenced her immediately.
"We will consider that in the future, Madam Pince. I am so sorry for the disturbance." Hermione sent her a polite and charming smile.
As Madam Pince pushed Mara out of the library, almost bullying her to the door, Mara caught the look of laughter on Harry's face.
He shrugged, giving her a sinister grin.
Hermione's polite smile never left her face.
Mara narrowed her eyes as Madam Pinch all but threw her out of the library, sending her one last evil glare on her evil face.
This betrayal will not be forgotten.
As Mara plotted her revenge, she headed down the corridors in search of Neville.
Neville knew he should've have gone down to the dungeons alone. He should've asked Harry or even Ron to come with him.
There is no better target than one who is alone and Neville has learned that he most certainly, is a target and most definitely, alone.
"Hey, squib!"
Neville's breath hitched as he recognized the voice calling out. He tightened his arms around the books Snape had given him for "extra study". He ducked his head down, hoping and praying that they were speaking to another "squib" and they would leave him alone.
"Don't ignore me, squib!"
Nope, definitely not another squib.
Neville bit down on his bottom lip, ignoring the concoction of anxiety, fear, and shame that swirling in his stomach. Nausea that he was so accustomed to returned with a vengeance.
He really regretted the large breakfast this morning.
"Stop right there, Squib!"
Neville didn't stop. He picked up the pace, determined to escape this hallway before they caught up to him.
"I said- STOP! Locomotor Mortis!"
Neville yelped in surprise and alarm as his legs suddenly slammed together. His balance lost, he tumbled to the floor, catching himself with his hands. The books and things he had been carrying scattered across the floor.
Neville groaned in slight pain. His full body weight slamming onto his wrists left them throbbing but not broken, luckily.
Neville turned onto his back, feeling like a mermaid on land as his legs refused to come apart, stuck together like glue.
Leg-locker Curse.
He groaned in frustration, reaching for his wand in his back pocket, which he was now realizing was an absolutely terrible place to put it. He'd have to take Harry's advice and get a wand holster.
Luckily and unluckily, his hand came up empty.
He searched the floor with wide eyes, ignoring the pounding of the footsteps heading towards him in the beat of his racing heart.
Just as he spotted his dad's old wand, two slender fingers plucked it from the ground.
Neville looked up at his tormenter with a resigned look.
Sinter Runcorn, dressed in his usual impeccable Slytherin robes, not a hair out of place, stared him down with a delighted grin.
Neville really regretted coming down here without backup.
Behind the first-year Slytherin stood two older boys, dressed in the same green and silver. 2nd or 3rd years by their height.
Neville shrank into himself from the combined weight of their glares.
Like he was so pathetic, he wasn't even worth looking at.
One of the older boys snorted. "He's much too easy of a target, Runcorn. You're going soft."
Neville winced. They were right but that still hurt.
Runcorn stared down at him for several seconds, twirling Neville's wand in his hand.
"Didn't you hear me calling you, Squib?" Runcorn asked, the face of picture-perfect innocence.
Neville swallowed. He knew this game. There was no way out.
Either he admitted to hearing him and not stopping- BAD.
Or he lied about not hearing him and got caught lying- BAD.
Neville didn't say anything.
Runcorn's eyes narrowed down at him as if Neville had ruined his game.
"Come on, let's go. A squib like him isn't even worth it." One of the older boys snorted.
"Ah, but I think he is. See, aren't you friends with the Girl-Who-Lived, Longbottom?" Runcorn asked, grinning as that caught the attention of the two boys.
"This is the Longbottom Heir?" One of them turned to sneer at Neville. "No wonder they turned blood traitor."
Neville's face heated with shame and anger at the boy's words but he bit the inside of his lip, determined not to rise to their bait.
"Well, he's as pathetic as they say, that's for sure," The other boy eyed Neville distastefully.
Neville's stomach churned with the emotions boiling in his stomach.
Not for the first time, Neville cursed not being like his friends.
He wished he could be angry, like Harry no undoubtedly would be, his eyes glowing that strange green and cursing the three boys until they ran down the hallway screaming like pigs.
He wished he could be like Mara, her face turning bright red as she threw politics out the window and jumped on them like a wild beast until you couldn't see their skin beneath their bruises.
He wished he could be like Hermione, her chin held high as she glared them down, ready to verbally outwit them at any single moment, knowing every countercurse to every spell they could throw at her.
He wished he could be like Ron, challenging them to a duel, hands down to defend his and his family's honor to the death, screaming insults that would make his mother blush and cover her ears.
But Neville was only himself.
And he could only stare up at the three Slytherin's malicious features, unable to walk, his legs cursed to stick together like glue, his eyes stinging and stomach-churning as he took their insults and fed them to his nonexistence ego.
He couldn't say anything against them.
They were right.
He is pathetic.
"What's got your tongue, squib? Don't you know it's rude to keep us waiting."
As tears crowded Neville's vision, he could only think one solemn thought.
He shouldn't have eaten pancakes for breakfast.
And with that, he vomited all over Runcorns shoes.
By the time Mara had thought to check the dungeons and found her friend, he was being decked in the face by a Slytherin.
Mara didn't have time to register anything else, all she saw was her friend, pale and frightened and on the ground and silver and green and a clenched fist impacting Neville's face with a loud Thwack which reverberated through the corridor.
"-YOU BLOODY SQUIB - HOW DARE YOU- ALL YOU MUDBLOOD-LOVERS ARE THE SAME - BETRAYALS OF YOUR OWN KIND- DISGRACE TO WITCHES AND WIZARDS EVERYWHERE-"
Then Mara got pissed.
"Excuse me!" She shouted, her thundering gaze landing on the first-year Slytherin who was now screaming, insults and spit flying fast through the air.
The two boys, one on the ground and one looming over him, turned to look at her.
The relief that came across Neville's face was something that both delighted and infuriated Mara.
Happy he considered her safe and angry that he had to feel unsafe in the first place.
"What in the hell is going on?" Mara stalked up to the two, ignoring the mess of vomit on the floor.
She waved her wand, vanishing the sick. She frowned at Neville's legs, stuck together.
She muttered the counter and watched, satisfied as Neville's legs became unstuck with a POP.
Neville got up from the ground with alarming speed, putting Mara between himself and the unknown Slytherin boy.
A boy who was currently staring at them like he was a fox and he just got quite a large meal delivered to his door.
"Well, well, well," The Slytherin boy grinned, showing off his crooked teeth. At that moment, he very much reminded Mara of the mascot his house was famous for. "If it isn't the golden girl."
He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall casually.
Mara's eye twitched as she placed her hands on her hips.
"Okay, seriously," She started, inhaling sharply through her nose. Her annoyance was clear as day on her face as she faced the other first-year down. "You are the fourth person to call me that. Is this a new thing? Is this my new nickname now? Cause I'd prefer it if you didn't."
The boy looked a bit taken off guard, his perfect Slytherin mask slipping into his surprise. But Mara wasn't done.
"Is my name that hard to say?" She complained, throwing her hands in the air. "It's two bloody syllables! What is so difficult about that? I'd understand if you had a learning disability or a lisp or something but you're all perfectly healthy! There's no excuse not to call me by my name!"
She glowered down at the boy, her hands back on her hips. Neville had a stranglehold on her right arm from behind her.
Mara took a moment to calm down, to remember everything she and Harry had studied with. Situations like these had to be handled delicately.
No matter how much she wanted to punch him in his stupid face.
Harry was so much better at handling these pureblood snot-nosed brats.
The boy's face dropped into a snarl, twisting his face into something harsh and cruel. He leered at the two of them but Mara gave him an unimpressed look.
To be fair, she was almost impressed. He had the pureblood sneer down to a tee. But Mara had dealt with the worst kinds of purebloods. Hell, she'd looked Sirius' mother straight in her harsh, aging eyes before poor Walburga had died of heart failure. The press had a field day with that one, claimed being in the presence of the then-five-year-old killed the old bat.
This Slytherin first year had nothing compared to the raging heat and icy cold that was Walburga Black's death stare.
He seemed to realize it too as his snarl dropped, back to glaring at her with his mask back in place.
"Is there a problem here…?" She paused at the end, narrowing her eyes at the boy, waiting for him to insert his name.
Luckily, he wasn't an idiot and he took the cue.
"Runcorn. Sinter Runcorn," He replied, narrowing his eyes on Neville's shaking form, who still had Mara's arm clutched in a death grip, halfway between hiding behind her.
Neville made a soft squeak in surprise, ducking behind his friend. Mara frowned, stepping forward in Runcorn's gaze to take his attention from Neville.
"Is there a problem here, Mr. Runcorn?" Mara narrowed her eyes as he tensed at the title, his jaw clenching. Inwardly, she smirked. She wasn't one to flaunt her power or rank but if it helped her friends, she'd be willing to do anything.
Sinter Runcorn was not the heir. She recalled meeting the heir a few years back. The Runcorn had gotten into a lot of trouble due to their influence with the Death Eaters. If she remembered, the head and his wife were both arrested for a muggle killing ring among other crimes. If she remembered, they'd had six sons before his arrest. It's possible, this boy was one of them.
She'd have to ask Killian about it later.
"No, Miss Potter. I'm just having a civil conversation with Mr. Longbottom," Runcorn smiled, his lips curling into an obviously fake and disgusting smile. He tilted his head in a dull sign of respect towards them but Mara could see the obvious reluctance behind the action.
"Seems like a rather violent conversation, Mr. Runcorn," She replied. The boys' hands twitched as if going for his wand, kept at a holster on his side. She narrowed her eyes at the movement, tracking everything. "Do your conversations usually end in black eyes?"
"It can be unavoidable in some cases. Some people refuse to listen to reason," Runcorn shook his head as if disappointed.
Mara fumed inwardly. Outwardly, she gave him an even look, as if she hadn't heard the slurs and words he had been screaming, as if his own family hadn't backed the very man who killed her godmother, as if he hadn't just punched her friend in the face.
"Perhaps it is not something worth listening to," She replied, a smirk curling up the edges of her lips. "Runcorn."
With the drop of formalities, all fake politeness dropped out of the boy's face, the sneer coming up at her.
"You Potter's are all the same," Runcorn snapped. "Blood traitors to the tragic end. You and all those filthy muggle-lovers deserve the same bloody end as your filthy grandparents."
Mara stiffened, her back going ram rod straight as she stared down Runcorn. Inside, she raged for the maternal grandparents she had never got to meet. The slurs were written on the horrible floral wallpaper, dripping like red ink.
She'd only seen the photos once, but she never wanted to be reminded again.
Mara clenched her teeth, imaging all her bones as steel, allowing them to stiffen as she glowered over at Runcorn, her face hidden behind the mask.
She met his gaze even and calm.
"Not all of us can have a family plaque in Azkaban, I'm afraid," And with those words, she smiled at him sweetly.
The effect was instantaneous.
"You little bitch-" Runcorn snarled, lunging forward, his wand already drawn into his hand.
"Runcorn," A cold voice stated. "You're making a scene."
Runcorn froze in place, fury burning his eyes. He sent a nasty glare towards Mara before backing down, sliding his wand back into his holster.
Behind the Slytherin, was another Slytherin, one Mara had only spoken to once.
Daphne Greengrass's face was as cold and icy as ever, as her eyes surveyed Runcorn then where Mara and Neville stood.
Mara almost shivered from the other girl's cold gaze.
Daphne turned to Runcorn, her arms crossed delicately.
"You should know better than to start a fight you can't finish, Runcorn," Daphne replied, shortly. Her eyes flickered to Runcorn's hand who was still hovering over his wand.
Runcorn snarled but didn't respond, flicking his eyes between Daphne to Mara and Neville.
Finally, he swallowed and Mara could almost see his pride slipping down his throat.
"I apologize, Miss Potter. It won't happen again," Runcorn turned to Mara with a slight bow. Mara narrowed her eyes on the boy abut nodded, accepting his apology. There wasn't much else she could do in this situation.
It was all here-say.
"Be sure it doesn't," she stated, swallowing her own pride that begged her to scream or worse, throw a few spells at him until he apologized for his slights against her friends and family.
She could see the reluctant fury on his face as Runcorn nodded and turned away, heading down the corridor where Daphne had just come from.
Once his robes had slipped out of view, Mara's shoulders relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief.
She wasn't one for confrontation but she wasn't about to let him get away with hurting her friend.
Mara sent Neville a smile, who returned it shakily, one hand still covering his cheek which was beginning to redden and swell.
Mara turned to Daphne, who watched her with cold eyes. Before Mara could say anything, Daphne's icy voice crashed onto them with a deadly force.
"You should be more careful who you insult, Miss Potter. Not too many in Slytherin are fond of you," Daphne's eyes met Mara's.
Mara frowned, shifting onto her other foot. "Thanks for the warning." Mara nodded to her.
Mara stiffened when she saw a black tail wind itself around Daphne's leg. She watched in fascination as the cat from before, with the jewelry on its ears and tail,, sat back on its haunches, next to Daphne.
Mara's lips twisted in a frown. Something felt off about that cat but she knew better than to ask the Ice Queen again. She'd gotten her head bitten off the first time.
"You, Longbottom," Daphne's voice snapped her back down to reality, seeing the girl's icy eyes narrowed onto Nevilles.
Neville gulped.
Daphne gave him an unimpressed look, the closest thing to emotion Mara had seen on the other girl's face.
"It is unbecoming of an heir of a Noble and Ancient House to let their friends fight their own battles," Daphne stated in a firm voice.
Neville shrunk back from the girl's words, his face dropping.
Daphne didn't seem to care, as she immediately turned around the way she came, the cat following her.
"You can't just-!" Mara shouted after the girl but Neville's hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks.
Neville's lips twisted in a frown and there was a shiny look to his eyes that wasn't there before. But, something was different about him though she didn't quite know what.
"I will keep that in mind, Miss Greengrass," Neville said, his voice barely carrying over the empty hallways.
Daphne gave no indication she had heard him, just kept walking away at her even pace but somehow, Mara was sure she did.
Mara quirked an eyebrow as she saw Neville's gaze fall to the floor, his hands clenching at his sides.
Yes, something was off.
It felt wrong to go the game after the incident with Runcorn but Neville insisted, his hands clenched at his sides and his eyes burning with determination.
So they did.
That didn't mean Mara had to be happy about it.
She led the way to the quidditch pitch with the trickle of last-minute students, the roar of the quidditch pitch burning in her ears.
It was much less crowded than the Slytherin versus Gryffindor game but no less pumped. The banners and streamers on each side of the pitch showcasing the classic house colors of their teams.
Mara smiled as she viewed it, her excitement returning but muted than when she woke up this morning. She only hoped Ron, Hermione and Harry could make it.
"Mara!"
Mara looked up at the familiar voice of her Hufflepuff friend. Mara scanned the top rows of the stands, looking for any sign of the red-head.
Luckily, Lily Moon stood out like a sore thumb. While her red hair wasn't unusual, it was the various black and yellow coloring of her uniform and scarf that made her stand out in a sea of red and gold.
Mara was never more thankful for befriending a Hufflepuff and not another Gryffindor than this moment.
"Here, she's up here, Neville," Mara said, giving him a kind smile. Neville nodded, the hood to his robes pulled up over his head, almost obscuring his face. She supposed that was a good thing because she could still see the blooming bruise across his right cheek.
Neville's face did not look good.
Mara winced in sympathy but didn't mention it, knowing Neville's stubbornness far outweighed her own.
Mara wiggled her way through the crowd, grabbing ahold of Neville's hand to prevent them from getting separated.
Lily waved as they approached, giving them a bright smile.
"Hi, Mara! How are you-" Lily paused mid-sentence, her eyes growing wide with horror.
Mara sat on the bench, wincing as Lily let out a horrified gasp. Neville's hood was not long enough to cover up the blue and purple cowering across his face.
"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Lily gasped, one hand laid over her mouth.
"Disagreement," Neville grumbled, looking away. Mara sighed, seeing the edges of his ears turn red.
Mara turned to Lily with a frown, shaking her head. Lily looked at her incredulously, as if asking if she was going to ignore it. Mara sighed again.
Lily looked doubtful but nodded her agreement. However, Mara watched curiously as Lily opened her messenger bag, grabbing a blue wrapped package. With the package in one hand and her wand in the other, Lily tapped on it once before Mara saw it freeze over and then thaw before her very eyes.
Lily smiled, offering it out to Neville. "Here- should stop the swelling."
Neville eyed it like her hand might turn into a pair of razor-sharp teeth ready to tear his throat out. He grabbed the pack unsurely, the fluid inside moving much like waves on an ocean.
"Thanks," he ground out, his voice still hoarse.
Mara sent Lily a thankful smile who nodded as Neville pressed it to his cheek with a relieved sigh.
"Who's referring?" Mara asked, leaning over the stands to view the teacher box. She squinted to see farther but all she could see were the colorful robes of the various teachers.
"You don't know?" Lily asked, surprise coloring her voice. Lily turned to her frowning.
"I heard they had a new referee but not who," Mara frowned, crossing her arms.
"It's Professor Snape," a timid voice called out behind her.
Mara jumped out of her seat, spinning to see the person.
Sophie Roper sent her a timid smile, adjusting her glasses on her face. Next to her, Lavender and Parvarti chatted away about some article in Witch weekly.
"Wait," Mara's face flushed with horror, "Professor Snape is referring? A Gryffindor match?"
Sophie and Lily both nodded.
"They said they wanted to prevent any more incidents like last time," Sophie sends her a sympathizing look. "So Professor Snape volunteered to oversee the match."
"Oh, no," Mara shook her head, eyeing the pitch now with a glum look. "We're doomed."
"Why does it matter who is referring?" Lily frowned.
Mara sighed, now sure that Gryffindor was going to lose this match and be out of the tournament. They'd already lost against Slytherin because of her and now they were going to lose this one too.
Just great.
"The referee keeps things from getting too out of hand," Mara explained sullenly. "They call the fouls and rule in favor of the team who gets to score an extra point for penalties. No doubt Snape's going to rule in Hufflepuff's favor."
"Why would he do that? That isn't a fair game now is it?" Lily huffed, crossing her arms.
"Don't care about fair. He just doesn't want Gryffindor to win," Neville spoke up, his voice hoarse. He coughed to clear his throat, turning to Mara with sad eyes.
Mara huffed.
As Madam Hooch stepped out on the field, Mara resigned herself to the loss Gryffindor was going to feel soon.
She watched with bated breath as the golden snitch and the bludger were released onto the field, only tightening her hand on the bench as she remembered the harsh ball coming straight at her.
She honestly thought it was going to break her face. Only to be saved by an unreal girl with a penchant for disappearing. She was so grateful her mysterious roommate had chosen that moment to save her.
"Wait is that Dumbledore?" Neville squinted across the field, eyeing the teacher's box. The others turned to look and sure enough, Mara spotted a long white beard paired with fuschia robes. No one else could wear something lacking any fashion sense so proudly.
"It is! Can't mistake his long white beard for anyone," Lily grinned, winking at Mara.
Mara heaved a sigh of relief. Her eyes traveled back to the game as Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air and the game began.
"-and Slytherin team takes the Quaffle but they're intercepted by Gryffindor's Johnson-"
Mara cheered as Gryffindor scored the first goal and the stands went wild, almost drowning out the match commentary.
"Fancy running into you here," A sly voice said. Mara faced the two newcomers, not surprised to see Draco and Blaise standing behind them.
"What are you guys doing over here?" Mara frowned, eyeing them suspiciously.
"We only came to show our support to our fellow houses," Blaise replied smoothly, sending her a wink.
"I doubt that's why you're actually here," Mara said. "Slytherins would never support Gryffindor."
"Stereotyping never helped anyone, Mara," Blaise grinned.
"Friendly rivalry between houses can help form bonds," Draco added, glancing at her.
His silver eyes looked very much like his father's, she noticed. She shivered from the thought, wrapping her arms around her.
It was still quite cold, especially with the harsh winds blowing.
"Foul!" That was Snape's booming, furious voice as it carried through the stands. Mara winced, used to having it directed at her during potions classes. She could see Neville shiver, huddling deeper into his cloak.
Mara's lips twisted into a frown as Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a bludger in his direction. A sigh tumbled out of her lips, the game resuming once more.
Mara eyed the two Slytherins who were now smirking, still standing ominously near them.
Draco eyed the benches with distaste, looking around though he tried to keep his face neutral. She stiffened as Neville clasped onto her hand, squeezing powerfully.
Mara winced, sending him a worried glance. He was tense, staring determinedly at the floor.
A particularly strong gust of wind blew and Mara closed her eyes which were watering from the powerful winds.
When she opened them, the wind dying down, Slytherin had scored and Neville's hood had fallen off.
Mara stiffened as did Neville.
She saw the exact moment that Draco caught sight of Neville's bruising face. A look of surprise came across his face as he dropped his guard for a slight moment.
For a second, she thought she saw a flash of concern but just as soon as she thought it, his shock had turned into a sneer.
"And who finally did you in, Longbottom?" Draco smirked.
Neville huddled down, clutching Mara's hand even tighter. Mara glared up at Draco poisonously.
"No one," Mara hissed. "It's none of your business."
Draco snorted. Blaise shot his friend a warning look but it was already too late. Draco Malfoy had spotted a weakness and it was much too tempting not to comment on it.
"It's obvious someone got tired of him and decked him, Potter," Draco sneered the last word. "I'd just like to know who."
"What for?" Mara demanded, "I've had enough of you Slytherins picking on him."
"So it was a Slytherin, hm?" Draco's eyes lit up, smirking. Mara bit her lip, inwardly scolding herself for her slip.
She was never good at dealing with purebloods. That was Harry.
But she was all that was here for now.
"Wasn't me? Was it you, Blaise?" Draco grinned, teasingly at his friend.
Blaise huffed, sending Draco an annoyed glare. "Don't. I'm not going to take part in this, Draco."
Mara sends him a grateful look but he wasn't looking at her, he was eyeing Draco and then Crabbe and Goyle, who Mara just noticed stood a few paces back, looking at the scene with stony faces.
"You're no fun, Blaise," Draco rolled his eyes. He turned to them with a slight grin. "I do wish you would tell me. I'd love to send them a gift basket."
Any notion of politeness cracked and snapped. Mara snarled, pushing herself to her feet.
Two hands wound themselves on her right arm while her other hand was still held by Neville.
"Don't, Mara," Lily warned, sending a worried glance between the Slytherins and Mara.
"Say that again," Mara snarled.
A flash of something crosses Draco's face as he eyed them, his face more open. He opened his mouth to say something but someone cut him off -
"Should I expect chocolate or flowers, Malfoy?"
Everyone stiffened. Draco's face immediately shut down, turning into a blank but dark look. Blaise clenched his teeth, a glare opens on his face.
Mara growled, already on edge as the last Slytherin she wanted to see right now appeared in her vision.
Runcorn.
Mara clenched her fingers around Neville's hand who had gone slack. Neville still hadn't looked up. Lily's hands clenched around Mara's arm, preventing her from lunging and punch the smug-looking snake in his face.
"So it was you," Draco stated, turning to face Runcorn, who had his arms crossed, staring at them triumphantly.
He looked almost proud as he eyed Neville's bruise.
A ferocious animal snarled inside of Mara's chest, nearly forcing herself out of her seat. The corners of her vision went red as she glared at the Slytherin.
"It was one of my best work, If I do say so myself," Runcorn grinned, showing all his teeth. "But that's what he gets for being a blood traitor- just like his parents."
"SHUT UP!"
Mara's eyes went wide as Neville's hand ripped itself from her grip. She hadn't shouted, Neville had.
And Neville had climbed to his feet, his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he glowered at Runcorn and the other Slytherins. His eyes were wide, his breath coming in heavy gasps.
Runcorn had gone too far.
Never insult Neville's parents. Mara knew this better than anyone.
"Never insult my parents again," Neville said, his face darkening as he uttered the threat.
Runcorn lifted a slick eyebrow. He eyed Neville's hand where Mara now realized, his wand level toward Runcorn.
"Or what?" Runcorn challenged. "You'll shoot me with a tickling hex?"
The quidditch match was completely forgotten in the tense atmosphere, the few rows of students around them now watching with bated breath.
Neville took a deep breath, lowering his wand.
"Thought not," Runcorn snorted. "You don't have it in you."
Runcorn seemed to have dismissed Neville but Mara knew better. She watched Neville's hands shaking in his grasp, watching his heavy breath going in and out as if preparing himself. But most of all, she watched his eyes, dark and lit in a dark blue hue with something she couldn't define. Something she had only seen once before.
"Longbottoms are all the same. All bark and no bite," Runcorn sneered, "Just like when your parents died."
"No," Neville muttered his voice surer than Mara had ever heard it been. "I'll kill you."
And with those words, Neville threw his wand to the side and lunged.