"Ginny. Come on."

"No."

"Ginny."

"No!"

"Don't make me get Fred and George. You, of all people, should know firsthand how overprotective they are."

"No!"

"Fine, suit yourself! I'm going to get them!"

Ginny sneezed violently as Willow exited the portrait hole and wandered the castle in search of the twins. The rest of September had flown by so quickly, she hardly had time to register it. A whole slew of colds had attacked the students of Hogwarts. It was so bad, in fact, that the House Exchange had been postponed to begin at the end of October instead. Willow couldn't tell whether she was relieved or sad about it. On one hand, she didn't know how facing Draco would have gone, since she hadn't spoken to him since the incident, but on the other, it might have forced them to come to terms with one another sooner rather than later. Draco had been coughing the whole week, though Willow was pretty sure he was faking it just so that he could skip the painful hours that they'd have to tolerate each other during class. Her heart broke every time she saw him anymore. At least she had been able to reconcile with Paige. The older girl continued on with life, taking Willow with her, and their relationship was back to normal. She couldn't be any more grateful to have an understanding friend like Paige in her messed-up life.

Suddenly, Lee Jordan appeared in front of her, very nearly bowling her over. He was at a full sprint, which was unusual for the rather lazy boy. His eyes lit up at the sight of Willow.

"Perfect timing! Come with me, quick!" he shouted, giving Willow no choice as he grabbed the front of her robes and dragged her down the corridors with him.

"Lee! What- " Willow yanked her shirt out of his hands and ran on her own two legs. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing? And what's that- " The vivid wrappings in Lee's hands were unmistakable. "You're pulling another prank? Alright, I'm in! What's the plan this time?"

"I knew I could count on you! Okay, Fred and George put some complicated charms on these fireworks. We need to give a certain celebrity a warm welcome." Lee's eyes shone excitedly. "Lockhart won't know what hit him!"

"Couldn't choose a better victim!" Willow exclaimed. She lowered her voice as they got closer to Lockhart's classroom. "Why are we sprinting, though? Did you almost get caught leaving class? Or do you somehow have a free hour at the same time as the second years?"

Lee waved away the question. "When do I not almost get caught? You've gotta live life on the edge every once in a while! Filch would definitely not approve, but hey, he's a grump. Maybe we'll put a smile on his face for once."

"Doubt it!"

Willow and Lee arrived at Lockhart's classroom, peeking in cautiously. A class of fifth years were barely paying attention as the self-absorbed excuse of a teacher raved about himself. Willow smiled with anticipation. They didn't know how much better their day was about to get.

"Camera at the ready?" Lee whispered.

"Light 'em up!"

Lee repositioned the fireworks one last time, then drew his wand, counted down from three, and set them off. The fireworks blasted into the classroom. There was a single gasp from the students, then cheering and applause. Lockhart yelped and tried to save his paintings. It was already too late. The fireworks had shot straight into most of his self-portraits, most of which were now shattered or screaming and trying to fix their hair. Red, blue, green, and yellow lit up the ceiling in different arrays of sparkling patterns, then arranged to display a single message, reading "Celebrity is as celebrity does!" Willow snorted in uncontrollable fits of laughter. Harry had told her not too long ago about the ridiculous things Lockhart had tried to tell him. Word must have gotten through to Fred and George, because this burn couldn't be a coincidence.

"Go, go, go! Run, quick!" Lee urged, shoving Willow out the door between fits. They hadn't even made it down two corridors before they ran into Fred and George.

"How did it go?"

"Was it brilliant?"

"Did Lockhart save his portraits?"

"Please tell me you got that on camera!"

"Everything went according to plan," Willow announced, showing them her camera. The pictures were still, but with the right charms, they could become the perfect short clips of Lockhart's embarrassment.

"Fred! George! Lee! Willow! My office, now!"

The four tensed up and slowly turned around to see an angry Professor McGonagall staring them down at the end of the corridor. She still had her spectacles on, though they were slightly off-center, as if she had sneezed. She probably had, Willow thought, as she remembered that McGonagall had caught the cold that was going around. Nevertheless, she was as intimidating as ever. Her wand at the ready, resting anxiously beside her hip, gave her the impression of a strict disciplinarian. Well, they'd done it this time. Lowering their heads so as not to meet her eyes, Willow, Lee, and the twins followed Professor McGonagall to her office, where she shut the door swiftly behind them. She promptly sat down at her desk and stared at each one of them in turn.

"I'm not even going to ask if you were the ones that did it. It wouldn't take a genius to pluck you out of the student body and figure out that you'd done it."

"Professor, we didn't mean to- " Lee started.

"I don't need to you to explain yourself, Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "You're lucky I'm letting you keep your position as quidditch announcer after this."

Willow's shoulders sagged. She'd always thought through the consequences of her actions before Hogwarts; what had changed? Her dad was not going to be happy with her. "When do we serve our detention, Professor?"

"Detention, Miss Guerrero?" McGonagall gazed at her questioningly. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. Unfortunately, Gilderoy Lockhart was able to repair all of his portraits with a simple repairing charm. He specifically instructed me not to give any of you detention for such a ludicrous prank. In his words, it was 'All in good fun. Kids these days!' You are going to be let off with a warning, and that is all."

Fred and George almost high-fived each other, then seemed to remember they were still in the presence of McGonagall. They cleared their throats and returned their eyes to their shoes.

"May I suggest you do something more permanent to Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart in the future? You are dismissed."

Willow, Lee, Fred, and George all mumbled "Thank you!" and left her office. Lee and the twins quickly apologized before departing to their afternoon class, saying something about having to get back to Binn's class before he recognized their absence. Remembering Ginny, Willow giddily skipped back to Gryffindor Tower. She had survived! Her father was not going to get a disappointing letter about her behaviour at Hogwarts after all! Apparently, she was not the only one that was annoyed by Lockhart's mere existence.

Willow dragged Ginny to the hospital wing, ignored her grumblings, and was joined by Percy at the door. He finally convinced Ginny to take the Pepperup Potion. Despite her slight dislike for the particular Weasley, Willow had to give him credit for how gently he handled the situation, how tenderly he treated his sister that he seemed to know so well. Little wisps of smoke curled out of Ginny's ears all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. Willow didn't even get a chance to take a picture of it before Mandy grabbed her from behind. She barely got to apologize to Ginny, then waved goodbye as she was dragged by the arm down the hallway. Ginny giggled and waved back, puffing out more smoke.

"You've got a free period this afternoon, right?" Mandy double checked.

"Um...yes. Why?"

"I've decided it's time for you to give us a wonderful display of your so-called powers."

Willow shook her head. She hoped the surprising, spur-of-the-moment missions from her friends would never end.

"That was incredible!" Lisa exclaimed, hours later.

"Lisa, how many times are you going to repeat that?" Sue chuckled.

"As many times as it takes to sink in! Wow, Willow, you were just- there's no words for it!"

"You just said it was incredible," Mandy pointed out.

Lisa threw her pillow at Mandy. "Oh, shut up! Let me bask in Willow's glory!"

"My glory is so tiring," Willow groaned, sprawling out on one of the beds. "You have no idea how exhausting it is to do all of that in one go. My back is going to be sore for the rest of this week."

"That's your own fault," Mandy snorted.

Willow sat bolt upright. "You're the one that made me do it!"

"But you did it willingly after that, did you not?" Mandy inquired, raising an eyebrow. Willow conceded the point, shrugged, and fell back onto the bed. "You are amazing, by the way. I think you're going to accomplish some great things, starting with stealing me extra dessert on Friday evenings. Those cheesecakes are to die for."

"I'm with you, but I don't think I'm going to be stealing anytime soon. Bad habits are hard to break, you know."

"You call that a bad habit?" Sue squeaked, clearly taken aback. "Something that morally wrong is just a bad habit to you?"

"I need to take notes on morals from you," Willow said. "Mandy should, too, but God knows she'll just buy my notes from Lee, like she always does. That's technically cheating, you know."

"Don't get all morally righteous on me now."

"Ooh, that reminds me of a Muggle game I used to play," Sue said, her features brightening up. "Have any of you played Truth or Dare before?"

Willow and Lisa gasped at the same time. "Heck yes!"

Mandy smirked and sat up on her mattress. "Oh, you have no idea how many interesting dares I've dreamed up. Hold that thought." Mandy exited the room, then returned moments later with a shocked second-year girl. Willow thought she was Parvati for a second, then realized she wore her hair slightly different. It was Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister. Padma shyly smiled and waved delicately in her direction.

"Willow, this is Padma, in case you didn't know that," Mandy announced. "She'll be joining us in this fun round of Truth or Dare. Don't let her fool you, she's a downright genius, but you'll never catch her admitting it."

Padma's cheeks reddened. She sat herself down on what was presumably her bed, listening in to Mandy as she re-explained the rules of the game. Willow wasn't exactly listening; instead, she found herself studying the beautiful temporary tattoo that swirled across Padma's arms like a work of art. Padma's skin was darker than hers, but Willow was almost envious of its naturally gorgeous tone. It reminded her hot chocolate, warm, smooth, and comforting. Her hair was dark brown and super long. It was tied into a braid that tumbled down her shoulders until it reached the small of her back. Padma was surrounded by a unique incense that Willow had never had the privilege to smell before. It was different than Sue's- starkly different, in fact- but with each passing second, Willow grew more fond of it. Padma was the epitome of natural beauty in Willow's opinion. Realizing she was accidentally staring, Willow returned her attention to Mandy just as she finished explaining the rules.

"-nothing that will get us in serious trouble. Okay, let's get started! I'll go first." Mandy cast about the room for a second. Then, her eyes landed on Willow. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth? Either way, I'm in trouble."

"You know me too well," Mandy said. She paused to think for a moment, then perked up. "I've got it! Okay, please don't kill me, but what is your middle name?"

"Oh, thank God, I thought you were going to get into the heavy stuff already," Willow sighed. "It's Lucía. That means 'light' in Spanish."

"Cool! You are the light of a lot people's lives," Lisa said.

"Ahh, don't hit me with this many emotions this early in the day!" Willow complained. "Thank you, though, I do need to hear that." She clapped her hands. "Moving on! Padma, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you live in Great Britain?"

"Yes. What gave it away? My accent?"

"Yep," Willow said. "I can actually switch between three accents. My dad came from America, but he also spoke Spanish, so he had two accents, then when he moved to Britain and had me, I received three accents and two languages at home. I was constantly confused for so long!"

"That's really interesting!" Padma exclaimed. She seemed to reign herself in, as if embarrassed by her outburst, before gathering herself and saying, "Sue, truth or dare?"

The game continued well into the afternoon, with several dares in a row taking them outside. All told, Willow had to fly through every ring on the quidditch pitch, Padma had to learn a dance and perform it with Sue, Lisa had to convince five people that she wasn't human, and Mandy had to play a song on her guitar in the middle of the Great Hall. Willow couldn't think of a better way to spend her afternoon. When they finally returned to the Ravenclaw common room, it was already four in the afternoon. Mandy, Sue, and Lisa collapsed on the floor together, laughing so hard they were too weak to stand. Willow and Padma managed to make their way to one of the comfy couches next to a huge window that sported a grand view of the Forbidden Forest. They both clutched their stomachs, still hurting all over from the last laugh.

"I think I like you, Padma," Willow chuckled.

"I think I like you too, Willow," Padma said.

"How have I never met you before? I see Parvati all the time, but I must have missed the times you guys hang out together."

"You must have," Padma agreed. "Parvati and I usually end up sparing time to see each other every day. It's hard, being separate from her all the time, but we're managing. I signed up for the house exchange so I have an excuse to see her more often."

"Really? I did too!" The blood rushed to Willow's cheeks. "Well, not for my own house, of course. I signed up to stay in Slytherin. It's going to be interesting, alright, but I think it will be good to gain some behind-the-scenes knowledge."

Padma nodded. "There's a lot of merit in that idea."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Padma replied. "For one, I've never believed a word of this every-Slytherin-is-a-villain thing. I met a first year last week, and she is friendly and bubbly as can be, if not a little too concerned about her reflection." She shook her head. "Every house has its advantages and downsides. I wish I was brave enough to spend time with someone outside of my house instead of staying in with the newest charm we've learned."

"Well, you're spending time with me right now," Willow pointed out. "I'm not the most intelligent, let alone very agreeable, but you're tolerating me."

Padma blushed. "Sorry, that must have come off as rude. I'm too shy to actively make friends. It makes it hard to understand social etiquette. You're really easy to talk with, by the way. Don't put yourself down."

"Oh, thanks!" Willow said. "That wasn't rude. I have trouble with social cues as well. Most of my friends found me, not the other way around. It's a happy coincidence."

"So there is hope left for me."

"If there's anything I learned in life, especially when it comes to relationships with other people, you have to stay hopeful."

Padma nodded, her eyes fixed on a point far away. She appeared to be mulling over that idea. Willow imagined her brain to be processing everything a thousand miles per hour, picking apart every detail, analyzing connotation, and doing other things she was definitely too lazy to do on a regular basis. In the comforting silence, she stared out the window, admiring the way the sun turned the playing thestrals' coats to silver. She couldn't believe how people stigmatized them to be depressing and scary; they were beautiful, completely misunderstood creatures that deserved just as much love as was given to puppies. That reminded Willow of Fidget. She fished him out of her pocket. Thankfully, Fidget had grown used to being on the move all the time and faithfully clung to Willow's robes. He happily climbed on her shoulder, his little claws tickling her.

"Merlin's beard, is that a bowtruckle?" Padma gasped.

Willow started. "Not so loud! I don't want any prefects to take him away."

"So it is one!" Padma said, lowering her voice as she spoke. Her eyes sparkled in wonder. "I've always wanted to see one! Do you- Do you think he'll let me touch him?"

"It all depends. He's super shy with strangers, to be honest, but he's quite the ladies man." Willow lifted her hand to her shoulder, waited for Fidget to climb on, and put him on the couch next to her. "Go on, Fidget, go see Padma."

Padma held out her hand for Fidget to climb on. At first, he backed away a few paces, emitting a small whimper, but after a bit of coaxing from Willow, he reluctantly took a few tentative steps forward onto Padma's hand. She carefully drew him close, then placed him on her shoulder. Fidget brightened up almost immediately. He smiled, scaled Padma's braid, and finally sat on her head. Padma giggled elatedly.

"He's adorable!" she exclaimed quietly. "Where did you get him? I thought they were illegal to keep as pets."

"Well, I decided to explore Knockturn Alley over the summer, and I came across this little guy in a magical creature black market. Two people were fighting over him and scaring him, so long story short, I stole him and got away with it. Yes, it's highly illegal to keep a bowtruckle as a pet, but as they say, once you name them, you get attached, and since Fidget got attached to me, too, there was no way I could put him back. Fidget belongs in a domestic, natural setting full of people now."

"Wow!" Padma admired the playful quirks of Fidget. "He's pretty amazing. Maybe I should try and stage a rescue operation within Knockturn Alley. There's all sorts of techniques I've read about that I might be able to explore."

"M-a-y-b-e you shouldn't do that," Willow suggested. "Those people were not friendly, and like I said, it's highly illegal, and I wouldn't want a genius like you to get caught on their first rescue operation. Besides, I'd much rather rescue magical creatures as I come across them, or I might end up keeping them all before I have a chance to put them back in the wild."

"Good point."

Padma gave Fidget back to Willow, who crawled contentedly into her pocket and fell asleep promptly. It had been a tiring day for the little bowtruckle. Willow glanced at her watch.

"Merlin's beard, we're going to be late for dinner!" she announced. Her friends sprang to their feet and rushed to the door- minus Padma, of course, who graciously stood up and practically floated across the room. Willow was reminded yet again of how much Padma appeared as a goddess. All she needed was divinity, and she was all set.

As they calmly walked behind their rambunctious friends, Willow began to notice how much people stared at Padma and she. Well, more at Padma than her, but there were a few unmistakable glances in her direction. It was slightly intimidating at first. Some of the boys appeared as if they were staring at the prize of the school, waiting to be won and taken by them. Others slapped them upside the head, berating them for being so rude. Willow had never cared about her appearance, so it didn't make her paranoid, but the stares were something she could live without. She looked sideways at Padma for help. The elegant girl held her head high, kept her shoulders back, stared straight ahead, and wore a genuinely happy smile on her face. Willow adjusted her stance until she matched Padma, then trained her eyes on the end of the hallway, too. She nearly gasped with surprise at how much confidence was restored. Willow felt like the Queen of England, tall, proud, and kind. Now she understood why some girls appeared so stuck up at first glance when they were walking down the halls. They weren't being arrogant; they were avoiding the stares of idiot boys. As she retraced her memories, Willow was completely floored as she realized that all the girls that walked like that were exceptionally pretty. She had a lot of retraining her brain to do.

"Hey, Willow!" a voice called. "Wait, let me talk to you for a second!"

A noticeably strong boy rounded a corner behind them. Willow paused and recognized Oliver Wood jogging to catch up with her. She apologized to Padma, promising to find her later, and waited for Wood to catch up with her. His breath steamed in the crisp October air as he panted.

"There you are! I've been looking all over the castle for you!" he exclaimed. "Every time I asked someone where you were, they said a different place, and you weren't there!"

"Oh, Wood, I'm so sorry!" Willow said. "My friends and I have been playing Truth of Dare for the past few hours. It's taken us all over the castle. I wish I would have known to spare you the trouble!"

"No worries, none at all," Wood said, waving her apologies away. "It's good exercise for me. I don't get nearly enough in during quidditch practices, being a keeper." His eyes brightened. "Actually, that brings me to what I was looking to ask you. I saw how skilled you are at flying the other day when you chased down that Malfoy snot. Nice job, by the way. He missed a few practices after that. You're a heck of a flyer, Willow. A complete natural. With all the sickness that's been going around, a few players have been missing, and I realized it's time to add on some reserve players. I've been thinking it over for a while, and I've decided that we need to have someone like you as a backup. It won't be much, of course, lots of practice and little playing time, but if you want it, the offer is there."

Willow blinked. Did Oliver Wood...just offer her a spot on the quidditch team? Without a try-out? Just based on her flying skills that he saw one time? Since when had anyone had that much faith in her?

If he wants me as a reserve just from that one instance, that means...My flying skills must be pretty impressive.

Say yes, you idiot, before the offer is gone! Cebba shouted at her. Say yes!

Okay, okay, I'm getting there, jeez!

Willow smiled giddily. "I'd love to play for you, Wood."

Oliver Wood clapped his hands together. "Great! I'll have Harry let you know when the next practice is. I'm so excited to have you, Willow! Thanks for accepting!"

"Thank you for offering!"

Oliver Wood caught sight of his friends and ran off. Willow stood there for a moment, hardly believing what just happened, then did a sort of happy dance, completely unaware that Draco was standing nearby.

"What the heck is with you, Wisp? Did Oliver jinx you or something?"

Willow froze. She hadn't heard Draco directly speak to her in ages. The shock was so much that she forgot to speak, only staring at him suspiciously instead.

"Oh, come on, you're never this happy," Draco said. "What did he tell you?"

"It's none of your business," Willow snapped. She furrowed her brow. There was no reason for her to snap at Draco in that moment; what the heck was she doing?

Draco rolled his eyes. "If it has anything to do with Oliver Wood, I'm assuming it has everything to do with quidditch. What did he tell you? That Harry fell off his broom and they need a new seeker? But that's too much to ask. Perfect Potter can't get hurt. They'd have Madam Pomfrey on him quicker than he could say 'Ow'."

"Well, I'd hope so! I wouldn't want anyone to fall off their broom!" Willow retorted. "Just because he's better than you at quidditch doesn't mean you have to make up excuses for yourself! And for your information, Oliver Wood did not need a new seeker. He simply asked me to be a reserve player. Not that you would care, being all high up on that throne of yours. I don't even know why I'm talking to you right now."

"I do. You miss me, don't you?" Draco said slyly.

"No, I don't!" Willow shouted, knowing full well it was a complete lie the moment she uttered the words. "I'd rather spend the rest of my life with a friend that actually cares about me."

"So I am still your friend?"

Draco smirked at her as Willow struggled to find a comeback. She finally gave up. "Inevitably, I always make up with even the worst people meddling in my life. I can't hold a grudge. You should know that after invading my privacy and reading my diary, you douchebag! I can't believe you'd decide to take advantage of me like this."

"I'm not taking advantage of you. For once, I'm interested in your life more than mine. Did you really accept being a lowly reserve on the Gryffindor team? You know you'll never play."

"Maybe I'll never play, but I'll still be playing, unlike any of the girls in Slytherin," Willow countered. "You guys are too sexist to even let girls try out for your quidditch team! What's wrong with you? Don't you know that the girls might actually be better than you?"

"Yeah, there's a few that are much better than us," Draco said, shrugging. "It's kind of annoying that they're not allowed to try out. Our chasers are rubbish. I would take it up with Flint, but he's even more of a douchebag than me, believe it or not."

"Wait...you actually want the girls to play? As in, you're not as much of an idiot as I thought?"

Draco scoffed. "I may be racist, but if there's one thing I'm not, it's sexist."

Willow stared at Draco in shock. Here he was, openly admitting that he was on board with pureblood mania, but he didn't care what gender the quidditch players were when the rest of the team did. She was wrong about him. Maybe in a century or two, she would figure Draco out, but for now, she was never going to assume anything. Willow almost felt guilty for it.

"Hey, Draco..." Willow started. He expectantly looked up at her. "I'm sorry I chased after you the other day. That was way out of line. I probably scared you to death, and I didn't mean to, but it still happened. Can we...go back to speaking terms?"

Draco smirked. "I was wondering when you'd come back around. We're back on speaking terms, Wisp. Good luck not dying on Wood's crazy practice schedule. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Blonde."

Draco waltzed away. Willow stood there for the longest time, trying to process how much had happened in a small space of time. She eventually went and ate dinner, but it wasn't until long afterwards, when she was relaxing in the common room, that it sunk in. A satisfied sensation washed over her like a cool pool on a hot summer day. She couldn't begin to describe the relief that was lifted from her shoulders.

"Hey, Willow," Sam said, appearing beside the couch. "Are you up for a walk? Oliver and I haven't move all day, and we need to stretch our legs."

"Sure!" Willow replied without hesitation.

Sam lead her out the portrait hole and into the hall where Oliver stood. They made their way through the long corridors of Hogwarts, simply passing the time and enjoying themselves. Eventually, Sam stopped in front of a great stained-glass portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. He settled himself into the ledge underneath it. The rain was lightening up by now and the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. Sam stared in wonder at the glass as it faintly glowed, an aura of peace surrounding it. He noticed a reflection of gold on the wall and spotted Willow's locket, which was directly in the sunlight.

"It's beautiful, your locket," Sam commented. "I wish I had something that great."

"Well, everything great comes with a price," Willow said. "You know this is my mum's. I wear it proudly, but there's always that doubt that it makes me more like them, more evil. It's just a locket, of course, yet I can't help but feel this means so much more than I know. They've done so many bad things to everyone. Especially now that I've got these extra powers, I don't want to end up like one of them."

Sam sighed sadly, appearing more melancholic than Willow had ever seen him. "Do you ever miss the Muggle world?" he asked. "I mean, Hogwarts is great, but sometimes I just want to go home and live without magic ruining people's lives."

"Hey, don't be so depressed about stuff, that's my job," Willow said, nudging Sam's shoulder. "As much as magic can ruin our lives, it makes it ten times more interesting, too. Would you rather be sitting at home, screaming about some dumb math class that Muggle children are forced to go through? I know I wouldn't. And if you were thinking along the lines of my powers, don't even bother. These are just a curse, as far as I know. Normal witches and wizards don't get these. They're getting better, Sam, really. I just need some help every once in a while. Magic isn't to blame for the world's problems; awful humans are."

"Everyone knows you refuse to ask for help," Oliver said. "You're a hypocrite. But you're right."

"Thank you, Oliver," Willow said.

Sam's melancholy passed, and his usual cheerful aura returned. He drew out his wand and charmed the water droplets on the window to form a wonderful image of Hogwarts. Willow was glad she had her powers to sense feelings and negative thoughts for her, because without them, she would be fairly clueless until she got to look someone in the eyes. That used to be the only way she was able to get a good read on someone. Now, she got all of her social cues from her powers in advance. She guessed that was at least one positive.

Suddenly, a loud BANG! ripped apart Willow's eardrums. She yelped and covered them in pain, hoping to God they weren't bleeding. Then, just as Oliver stepped back from the window a few paces, the floor caved in under him and he tumbled onto the next floor. Sam and Willow shot to their feet, wands drawn.

"Oliver!"

The boy's head was all that was visible beneath the pile of rubble. He coughed, the sneezed, and finally peered up at them through the dust. Thankfully, he didn't seem to be in pain. Willow darted to Oliver's side, Sam hot on her heals, and pulled a few chunks of stone away from him.

"What the heck just happened? Was that an earthquake? Ooh, I bet it was an explosion! Do you think- " Sam rambled.

"Not now, Sam!" Willow interrupted. "Oliver, can you move?"

"Um...no."

"Okay, hold still, then. I've only tried this spell once, but let's hope for the best." Willow stepped back, drew her wand, pointed it at the demolished floor, and shouted, "Reparo!"

Piece by piece, the floor levitated itself and flew back into position. Oliver's body was slowly uncovered until only the piece underneath him remained. He staggered to his feet just as the last bit of corridor replaced itself. Willow rushed to his side, brushed him off, and checked him over for any injuries. There was mercifully only a single cut along his collarbone. She sighed in relief and placed her hand on the cut, healing it until only a little scratch remained. It was better than nothing, but Willow wished that her powers would let her fully heal an injury. That would have come in handy more than once.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Oliver replied. "What was that?"

"It was totally an explosion!" Sam exclaimed. "There's no other explanation! I want to know what caused it, because with that explosive power, I can only imagine what I might be able to do with it, and- "

"Damn, I really thought it would work that time!"

Sam was cut off mid-sentence by another young masculine voice. He, Oliver, and Willow whipped around to find themselves staring at a disappointed second-year boy standing near a decimated cauldron. It wasn't until then that he finally noticed them.

"Oh, when did you guys get here? I didn't see you walk in."

"I'm sorry, did you not notice that explosion that you just caused?" Willow asked, crossing her arms and stepping in front of Oliver. "The one that almost hurt Oliver? We fell through the freaking hole you created in the ceiling!"

The boy glanced at the ceiling, then glanced back at her. "Oh. Sorry about that."

"That is the most insincere apology I've ever heard!" Willow exploded. She marched right up to the boy and got in his face. "You could have seriously injured Oliver! How can you not care about that?"

"Willow, it's okay- "

"No, Oliver, it's not okay! I'm not through with him until he's truly sorry for what he did to you!"

"He's never going to be sorry," Sam said, eyeing the patch on the boy's robes with disgust. "He's a Slytherin."

The boy's nostrils flared. Rising to his full height (which was a few inches taller than Willow), he stared her down, his electric blue eyes seeming to stare straight through her soul. Willow was almost intimidated, but held her ground.

"I'll have you know that I am human and fully capable of apologizing, you bloody thick-headed Gryffindor. I was getting there before you so rudely interrupted. Since you're too blind to recognize what room you're in, I'll explain the situation to you. I was very close to finally finishing my latest super strength potion when something went wrong yet again. My cauldron bubbled over and decided to explode, unfortunately caving the castle in on you. Snape is not going to be happy with me. I hope he lets me use his classroom again." Shaking his head, he stepped around Willow, ignoring her appalled reaction, and stood in front of Oliver. "I'm sorry I almost hurt you. If there's anything you need, I know how to fix simple things."

"Th-Thanks," Oliver stuttered, staring in wonder at the boy's golden blonde hair.

"But- Slytherins are evil!" Sam said, glancing between the boy and Oliver. "He's just faking it to get out of here!"

"No he's not, Sam," Willow said, realizing the truth as she spoke. "He's being sincere. Not all Slytherins are evil, you know."

The boy stepped back from Oliver and gave Willow a quizzical glance. "Are you joking? Of course all Slytherins are evil! Everyone is evil, just varying degrees of evil."

"See? I told you!"

"Sam, silencio la boca," Willow ordered, throwing him a warning look. She turned to the Slytherin boy. "I'm sorry I attacked you like that. I come off as rude, but I'm really just super overprotective of my friends. Oliver can definitely vouch for me." Willow offered her hand for him to shake. "I'm Willow Guerrero. And you are...?"

The boy smiled enthusiastically and shook her hand with vigor. "Cypress. I've seen you in class before, but I bet you haven't noticed me."

"No, I don't think I have."

"Well, that's not problem." Cypress wore a goofy grin. "I prefer to stay under the radar anyway. It helps in certain situations."

"Oh?"

"Come on, you should see what I've done so far. It's pretty awesome, if you ask me."

Cypress turned and walked deeper into the potions classroom. In the back, instead of a wall full of ingredients, a giant storage system filled the space. Jars filled with countless substances were overflowing on their racks. If it weren't for magic, which was keeping the glass jars from falling, the whole thing would have fallen over and shattered. Cypress's obnoxiously messy handwriting was barely legible on their lids. The liquids themselves were all different hues, and every single one of them seemed alive. Potions bubbled and popped, rolled around and sat perfectly still, hissed and chirped. Cypress had obviously spent a lot of time experimenting, and he was too fond of each potion to destroy it when finished. Willow watched as he set his cauldron on the counter, nearly dropped it, knocked over several empty glass bottles before grabbing one, and dumped the contents of his cauldron into it. He scribbled what appeared to be "Cool explosion" on the lid (though Willow might have made it up, as his handwriting was atrocious) and threw it at the storage rack, which magically placed it in its proper section, if there was a method to the madness at all. Sam sulked behind Willow, clearly ashamed but not ready to admit it. Meanwhile, Oliver stared in wonder at this potions prodigy, suddenly interested in one of his least favorite subjects.

"Wow," Willow breathed. "This is amazing. Did Snape give you permission to do all this?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Cypress said. He sat down on a levitating stool and spun around in the air, eventually stopping at a cork board and recording the incident on a magical table. "I got full marks on my end-of-term exam, so Snape finally agreed to give me free reign of his ingredients as long as I stay away from the rare and/or extremely potent ones. I've been pestering him since day one about it. I'm surprised he gave in, as much as he hates most of us, but I am a Slytherin, after all, so that has to count for something."

"Narcissist," Sam muttered.

Willow slapped him. He shot her a pouty glare and crossed his arms. She rolled her eyes, seeing right through his smoke screen. "It must, but I doubt it has anything to do with being Slytherin. You've got a knack for potions, alright. I'm assuming you're good with pyrotechnics, too, then, because of the latest edition?"

"Oh, no, that's just a mess-up on my quest for perfecting my best potion yet," Cypress said, a mischievous light in his eyes. "Filch will never know what hit him when I'm done with the Firecracker Potion."

"You'd be doing us all a favor, lighting up Filch like that," Willow chuckled.

Cypress finally noticed Oliver staring. Oliver's cheeks turned bright red, and he diverted his eyes to the floor, suddenly interested in his shoelace. Cypress smirked, but in a playful way, much unlike Draco.

"Impressed, are you? It's okay, you don't have to be shy around me." Oliver glanced up in interest. He allowed Cypress to make that rare eye contact with him. "Yes, I've seen how shy you are, Oliver. It's alright to be shy, as long as you make sure people understand what you're trying non-verbally tell them. Trust me, it's not fun when people misinterpret my attempts to bash their amateur potion work. No, I'm not complimenting you, I'm trying to offend you, Tracey! Some of the girls in my year, Merlin's beard are they awful...Anyway, you don't have to talk around me, but feel free. I'm not judgmental outside of potions."

Willow raised her eyebrows. Cypress was most definitely not a typical Slytherin. For Oliver to actually remain in the presence of him, taking in his qualities without trying to hide...something was different about this boy.

"You done with your tantrum yet?" Cypress asked in Sam's general direction, preoccupied with cleaning out his cauldron. "No, I didn't forget about you. You're being unfair."

"What? You're the one that- " Sam started.

Willow elbowed him hard in the gut. "Cállate, tonto! Vas a ser la muerte de mí."

"Wow, Spanish, much?" Cypress observed, peering over his shoulder at her darker features and prominent Latina skin tone. "Which side was it, mum or dad? Wait, is that a rude question? I'm really bad at this."

The blood rushed to Willow's cheeks. "You're fine, I don't find it rude. My dad's parents immigrated to the United States from Mexico, then my dad married my mum and moved to Britain. I was born here."

"I can gather that from your perfect British accent. It's beautiful, by the way."

"Thanks."

Cypress levitated his cauldron onto a drying rack. "Alright, I'm done here. Would you care to join me on a walk around the castle? I'm not doing anything in particular today."

"Yes!" Oliver squeaked, immediately regretting his outburst and lowering his head in shame. Cypress sauntered over to him and put an arm around Oliver, who was somehow his same height.

"I have got so much to teach you about being proud of yourself. We can start easy by a simple walk through the halls. Come on, Willow and...whoever that self-pitying Gryffindor sitting in the corner is."

Willow and a disgruntled Sam followed Cypress and Oliver into the damp hallways of the dungeons. Cypress led them past the kitchens, upstairs, past the Great Hall and into a hallway adjacent to the courtyard. He apparently decided to stop there, as he simply paused, found a suitable gap in the stone openings, and sat down. Oliver followed his lead, and Sam sat far away from the both of them, but Willow kept standing. Her legs were extremely restless today.

"Ahhh," Cypress sighed, getting comfy. "I love October. This is the best spot in Hogwarts during the fall. The wind can't blow too hard, and there's a nice view of the moon rise if you stay out late enough. You should try to find me one of these times."

"I will," Oliver promised.

"Now then, where was I? Oh!" Cypress turned to Oliver. "Right. Teaching you how to be the opposite of that sorry excuse of a teenager over there. Step one: Figure out who you are and what you believe in. Good, you already know that. Step two: Show the world who that person inside you is. You're stuck on step two. So, what you're going to want to do is- "

"Hey, Cypress!"

Willow whipped around to see a Slytherin boy- was that Blaise Zabini?- standing down the hallway behind them. He wore a devilish grin on his face that couldn't mean anything good. Cypress stopped mid-sentence, but refused to face him, his face turning stone cold.

"Hey, Cypress! What's the matter? Are you too much of a mudblood to even face me? Are all muggle-borns as cowardly as you? Come on, mudblood, face your superior!"

Willow was about to chase down the idiot when Cypress caught her eye. His aura shifted instantaneously. He stood up, turned to Blaise Zabini, and did something completely unexpected. Cypress rolled his eyes, pure exasperation written all over his face.

"Oh, my bad, the Sorting Hat placed a mudblood like me in Slytherin!" He fluttered his eyelids. "What's the matter, Blaise? Can you not admit the truth we all know? That mudbloods are obviously better than all of you purebloods combined? I'm totally behind you in potions, of course, and you see me every day groveling at your feet for knowledge."

"You should be, mudblood!" Blaise shouted, though there was a flicker of fear in his eyes. "You're worth about as much as the scum on the bottom of my shoe! I should throw you into the Forbidden Forest for talking to me that way!"

"Oh, how cute! Look guys, it's getting angry!" Cypress teased. "Could you hear what it was saying? I could have sworn it said purebloods should be thrown into the Forest for speaking to anyone like that! Woah, it said something right for once! Mudbloods are so much better than blood traitors like this adorable idiot is. I wouldn't give up this power any day! I mean, who would want to give up their birth right to rule over all these beautifully stupid peasants?" Finally acknowledging Blaise's furious presence, Cypress spoke directly to him. "You'll see, Blaise. One day, I'll be your last resort in life, and I will make you pay. I'm proud to be a mudblood if it makes you this worried that I might be better than you at- pretty much everything, now that I come to think about it." Cypress waved at Blaise as if he were royalty. "Good day, peasant! Now go before your filthy presence soils any more of my air."

Blaise stood there, open-mouthed for a moment, then snapped his jaw shut and marched away, his veins popping in fury. Sam and Oliver stared at Cypress as if he really were a king. Cypress lazily smiled, soaking it all in. Willow was the first to manage words.

"You're...you're a muggle-born?"

Cypress laughed. "I hoped you would at least get that out of my speech. In all seriousness, though, yes, I'm one of those muggleborns that the Slytherin house seems to try and hide. Everyone thinks muggleborns don't exist in Slytherin until they meet me."

"That- How did you handle that...so perfectly?" Oliver stammered.

Cypress winked at him. "We're skipping to step three on accident, I'm afraid. Step three: Don't let anyone tell you you're worth less than you are, even if you're forced to fight them."

"But...you didn't fight him. Physically, at least," Sam said. "You told him off with mere words. How do you do that?"

"Practice. Lots of practice. With every one of those bull-headed, pureblooded, maniacal idiots in there."

Sam blinked, then glanced at his feet. "I'm...sorry for the way I treated you earlier, Cypress. I didn't mean it, honest. I just didn't want to see Oliver get hurt. But now, I'm not so sure I want you to leave his side." Sam offered his hand for Cypress to shake. "I'm Samuel Smith, but call me Sam, like the rest of my friends do."

Cypress shook it with that lovable smirk. "I knew you'd eventually come around, Sam."

Willow smiled. She didn't know what her friend count was anymore, but she was about to add one to the list that was worth so much more than a simple tally. Cypress was going to rock everyone's world.