The great hall was filled with an explosion of red and yellow colours. Banners with animated lions prowling, leaping, and roaring hung menacingly over the walls, making the black and yellow paper chains the Hufflepuffs had crafted look meagre by comparison. The Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match was next weekend, and yet its approach had prompted early displays of rivalry, more than seven days before it was due.

A flock of Gryffindors were charging up and down the hall and in between the tables as other students tried to eat their lunch in peace. It was cabbage and beetroot quiche that day which had become one of Bagsy's favourite meals.

The third round the Gryffindors made of their table they were snickering with genius nicknames they'd conjured. Emmeline Wirth-less was one of their favourites, though Emmeline didn't seem to care, but they'd also taken to calling Bagsy the fainter. Bagsy couldn't exactly blame them – she was probably approaching a record for the frequency of her flights from consciousness. It was once a year minimum, currently.

Killian and Fiona, Bagsy was surprised to find, were in this group as well, laughing and giggling as they teased the Hufflepuff team.

'It's all in good fun,' Fiona said to Bagsy on their final lap, patting her on the shoulder. 'Part of the spirit of quidditch.'

'Absolutely.' Killian nodded in adamant agreement. 'It's emblematic of the rivalry between houses both on and off the pitch.' Before Killian could rant more about metaphors and hidden meanings, Fiona was dragging him away, mumbling something about wishing Hogwarts had a literature club Killian could spew all his nonsense to instead. The rest of the Gryffindors were taking a little longer to disperse.

Teresa seemed to be enjoying the challenge of the nicknames, shooting her own back, while Ford, Kat, and Greenda seemed too exhausted by school work to care.

'Oh, enough of this,' Mezrielda grumbled to herself. She was also sitting at the Hufflepuff table, as she often did, and was even less willing to deal with the Gryffindors' antics than the others. Mezrielda aimed her wand at the black and yellow paper chain above their heads.

'What are you going to do?' Bagsy asked in a whisper.

'Turn the paper into a big badger,' she explained, flicking her wrist precisely and casting a spell. Bagsy craned her neck and watched as the paper chains broke free from where they'd been pathetically pinned to the walls. They spun around each other in a storm of black and yellow, multiplying and shifting, until they formed a giant black and yellow paper badger, rearing on its hind legs, its big black nose pointing down at the Gryffindors angrily. With a silent opening of its toothy mouth, the giant badger set down its paper paws and lumbered, one foot on either side of the table, towards the Gryffindors.

Tumbling over each other, faces aghast and stunned, the Gryffindor crew were quick to flee from the hall. The Hufflepuffs watched in amusement, Teresa letting out taunting cheers of 'Go on! Run!'

The badger watched the Gryffindors go before resting its head on the Hufflepuff table, the paper bits falling inanimate in front of the gathered students.

'You're welcome,' Mezrielda spoke loudly and kindly, giving a small bow. There was a smattering of applause, and a few grateful smiles, as Mezrielda swished her wand and levitated the paper back to its original position.

Bagsy smirked at Mezrielda as her friend sat back down, dusting off her robe. 'Hopefully that will teach them a thing or two,' she said.

Mezrielda inclined her head in assent. 'And increase my social respect and acclaim.'

Now that the hall was a little quieter, Bagsy took her chance to confide in Mezrielda. 'Listen, about the thing with Primrose. Back when it all went down, when you cast obliviate and I lunged to stop her drinking that potion, something… strange happened.' Mezrielda arched an eyebrow at her, but something about her interest seemed off, as if she'd been expecting this. Thinking nothing of it, Bagsy continued. 'I saw into Primrose's memories. Her real, what-happened-to-her-in-the-past, memories. I have no clue why.'

'The obliviate spell,' Mezrielda cut in, waving her hand dismissively. 'You got in its way. I imagine as I was meddling with Primrose's mind you accidentally saw a few things you shouldn't have. Magic can act out in such ways, it isn't unheard of.'

Bagsy frowned. 'Are you sure spells work like that?'

'Positive,' Mezrielda affirmed, drinking some toad bean coffee and averting her eyes. She wrinkled her nose at the beverage. 'That is revolting,' she complained, putting the goblet back down. 'I don't know how adults drink that.' She only paused for a moment, though, before picking it back up and taking another sip, determined to appear as mature as possible.

'Well, if you're sure it's nothing out of the ordinary,' Bagsy murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully. 'I suppose I can move onto the next thing.'

'Which would be?'

Bagsy pulled her notebook from her robe, unintentionally slamming the weighty thing onto the table. Its mass of bookmarked, crinkled, and smudged pages were a dishevelled sight to behold. She flipped to the page where she'd been taking notes on Emmeline and Greenda. 'I think I've finally solved what happened between you-know-who and you-know-who-else.'

Mezrielda blinked first at Bagsy, then down at the book. 'Who on earth is you-know-who?' With a pointed look down the table to where Greenda was sitting, and then in the other direction where Emmeline was beginning to collect her things and leave, Bagsy proceeded to point to the scribbled handwriting on the open pages in front of them. Mezrielda squinted down at the words in silence for a time. 'I'm sorry, Bagsy, but between the mountains of folds, and ravines of tears you've decorated every inch of this paper with I haven't the foggiest idea what it is you've written.'

Bagsy sighed. 'Greenda and Emmeline! I think I know why they hate each other so much.'

Mezrielda startled. 'That is quite the discovery.'

With an enthusiastic nod, Bagsy began to outline her reasoning. 'It was all thanks to Primrose's memories. The first time I saw her I was sure she was Emmeline's sister. I mean, they look nearly identical, just a few years a part in age. But when I asked Primrose this she got all mad and told me Emmeline wasn't her sister.'

'Plus,' Mezrielda interjected, folding her arms, 'they have different surnames.'

'Yeah, exactly, but! In Primrose's memories Emmeline was there, and she is her sister after all.'

Mezrielda regarded Bagsy in confusion. 'Come again?'

'Emmeline was a Vinski, but then Mrs Vinski kicked her out and told her she wasn't worthy of their last name.'

Now Mezrielda looked truly and thoroughly perplexed. 'Why on earth would she kick her daughter out?'

'Because Emmeline wasn't her biologicaldaughter,' Bagsy explained. 'There was some kind of prophecy, from what I could tell, that said Mrs Vinski's first born child would be a villain.'

'That prophecy is about the Vinski's?' Mezrielda murmured in disbelief, her eyes widening.

'Hold on. You know this prophecy?'

Mezrielda nodded importantly. 'My parents told me about it. It was a rather sizeable controversy many years ago. Some wealthy, influential family was informed their first-born child would grow up to be a terrible villain and help bring about the end of magic. It was the scandal of the century. Which family it referred to was highly confidential.' A wicked grin found a comfortable home on Mezrielda's features. 'Oh, this is wonderful. Primrose can't lift a finger against us ever again, or we'll-' Bagsy was looking at Mezrielda very harshly indeed. Mezrielda let out a tired sigh. 'Alright. I shall refrain from blackmail. For now.'

'At least until I've finished my story,' Bagsy agreed. She absolutely did not want to use this information against Primrose or Emmeline, no matter what. It felt like crossing a line. 'It turned out that Mr and Mrs Vinski had decided that Mr Vinski would have a child with someone else, and then they would raise that child as their own. Only, Mrs Vinski didn't want to know it wasn't her biological child, so she had her memories altered. She kicked Emmeline out because Emmeline's real mother showed up to take her home, and Mr Vinski told Mrs Vinski what had actually happened.' She paused, twiddling her thumbs. 'Mrs Vinski wasn't so nice to Emmeline, nor was anyone else. They all knew about the prophecy, I think, and so they all thought Emmeline was a villain in the making. Emmeline's real mother-' Mezrielda cast Bagsy a look. 'I mean, biological mother,' she corrected herself, 'just wanted to take her away from all that.'

'And so now, she's Emmeline Wirth instead of Vinski,' Mezrielda finished. Bagsy nodded. 'Ah, of course.' Mezrielda clicked her fingers in realisation. 'Emmeline must have confided that she'd once been a Vinski in Greenda, and Greenda must have spread it around the school, hence Emmeline's fury, and her inability to forgive her.'

Bagsy nodded. 'That's what I figured, as well.'

'It would make sense,' Mezrielda mused, 'but you can't be sure just yet. You could be spot on, or it could be what happened had nothing to do with it at all.'

'Only time will tell,' Bagsy admitted. 'But at least now I have some understanding, and understanding is half the battle.' She glanced down the table at Greenda. 'I'd given up on trying to help them, but now I have some insight, I may be able to get them to work together long enough that Hufflepuff don't come last this year. Plus, I think it would be nice for both of them if they reconciled. Oh, and one last thing.' Bagsy cringed, turning back to Mezrielda.

'Hm?'

'I, uh, forgot to retrieve my gloves and slippers from Primrose when she was unconscious. She… she must still have them.'

Mezrielda grimaced. 'That's… very unfortunate. You couldn't have thought about that when you had the chance to grab them?'

'I was a little distracted,' Bagsy pointed out meekly. Professors had been rushing towards them, about to discover that they'd had a hand in permanently disfiguring a student. Running had been on Bagsy's mind, not retrieving her gloves.

'That's fair and, in truth, you aren't the only one who may have made a mistake then.'

Bagsy raised her eyebrows. 'You? Make a mistake? Impossible.'

'I know, I know. It's hard to fathom,' Mezrielda agreed, missing the sarcasm. 'I cannot guarantee that my obliviate spell was successful. In all honesty, I only assumed it was. It is difficult magic, even for me. But, if Primrose's behaviour is anything to base our assumptions on, and by that I mean she hasn't immediately handed us over to the professors, I am optimistic in claiming that my spell most likely worked.'

'Let's hope you're right,' Bagsy murmured ominously. This time, both of them turned their eyes down the table, where Primrose was confidently using her claws to skewer and eat slices of tart, her shark-like teeth flashing into view with each bite.

Bagsy had previously spent quidditch practise following instructions and doing her best to ignore Greenda, Emmeline, and their combined aggression. Now, though, she had a different plan; to come up with a strategy that could win them the game. She'd been training herself up, and despite her original optimism and determination, she had to admit that her progress simply wasn't enough to single-handedly win a game. She was far from being a good quidditch player, let alone the best quidditch player in school.

Now that she was no longer working on a favour for Tod, or a favour for Mezrielda, and only had preparing the phoenix quelling potion to worry about, she found it a breeze to complete her homework, perform all of her usual extra studying, and then scrawl in her messy note book for hours as she planned her attack. She sketched a quidditch pitch over and over again, mapping out possible strategies and manoeuvres. She even sent Eldritch off with a letter asking Griffin for advice on any cool quidditch tricks he could think of to help her.

She was walking back from the owlery, Bill sitting happily on her shoulder, eating chopped carrots and peas from Bagsy's outstretched palm, when she heard what she thought was supressed sniffling. Standing at the entranceway to the Hogwarts basements, only moments from the common room, Bagsy debated ignoring the noise entirely. She still had school work she needed to do, she'd been greatly depriving her studies for a long time due to all the favours she'd been juggling, and it had only just hit her how much she needed to catch up. But then Bagsy thought on how it would feel to be that person sitting alone quietly sniffling. Sure, Bagsy liked being left alone when she was upset, unless it was someone very specific coming to comfort her, but most people weren't like that.

'Let's go check it out,' Bagsy said to Bill, who nodded her little rat head in agreement. Shoes tapping down on the cobbled stone floor, Bagsy deviated from her route and followed to noise. Within moments, she was at the end of a small corridor she'd never been down, at the end of which was a small circular alcove looking out at the mountains that stretched beyond Hogwarts castle. Sitting in the alcove, face turned away from her and with a hairless cat curled at her side, was Primrose. For a moment she looked exactly as she once had, all soft skin and blond hair, her right side hidden from view. But then, she let out a small sniff and moved her head. Her hands were on her face, fastened onto one of the scales that had formed on her forehead, and were pulling hard. Despite her efforts, which were clearly causing her significant pain as Primrose kept tugging at the offending part, she found no success in removing it. She continued her task, until her half-snake half-human eyes sank venomously onto Bagsy as she realised she was being watched. Her hands fell slowly to her sides, one resting stiffly on her cat's back, who was staring with just as much malice as Primrose.

'A-are,' Bagsy started, her voice dying somewhere between her throat and her mouth. She swallowed. 'Are you okay?'

Primrose smiled a wide toothy smile, her pointed teeth slotting perfectly with each other in a threatening zig-zag. 'Oh? You think I'm not a bad person because you've seen me cry, is that it?' she asked, not even bothering to wipe the tear tracks away on her unscaled cheek. Bagsy opened and shut her mouth but failed to say anything. Primrose stroked her cat slowly, scratching him behind the ears before resting the tips of her clawed hand on his back. 'Unlike you, I won't let such illusions go unshattered.' With a swift motion, Primrose pointed one clawed finger at Bagsy.

The hairless cat leapt from his position and charged towards her. Instinctually, Bagsy ducked down and covered her face and head with her hands. She felt a whooshing by her ear and a weight lift off her shoulder.

A second too late, Bagsy realised she hadn't been the target of the cat's claws. 'No!' Bagsy cried, turning to see the cat on the ground, Bill clutched in his jaws. He flopped onto his side and began to rake his hind legs, claws unsheathed, over Bill, who writhed and let out high pitched shrieks.

'That's enough,' Primrose said calmly, walking past Bagsy and towards her cat. The hairless feline let Bill go, who hit the floor with a thud, and stood with a proud flick of his tail. 'Don't make the same mistake again,' Primrose hissed back at Bagsy as she walked away, hands in her pockets and hairless cat following.

Dropping to her knees Bagsy gently moved her hands below Bill, cradling the small animal in her palms. Blood was spattered on the floor, and now pooling on her skin. She rushed to her feet, careful not to jostle Bill, and moved towards the basement. Tapping out the rhythm Helga Hufflepuff with her foot, Bagsy danced on tip toes as she waited for the barrel to open. Once it had, she struggled to duck through and make it into the common room without the use of her hands, but eventually made it. 'Help me!' she called out desperately once inside. The common room, filled with the golden light of evening as the days had begun to grow longer, and the calm greens of ferns and cacti, was the last place students expected a bloodied girl to appear. Yet, with slow realisation, students were turning in their chairs, or peering over sofas, or poking their heads around the dormitory doors, to see what all the fuss was about.

Bagsy's vision was blurred from tears, but she recognised the voice of Greenda when she suddenly appeared at her side.

'What happened?' Greenda asked slowly and calmly, her hand placed comfortingly on Bagsy's back.

'P-Primrose s-she… her cat… B-Bill is…' Bagsy found herself unable to speak clearly, her voice choking up. 'Teresa,' she forced out, 's-she knows about creatures… m-maybe she can…'

'Ssh, ssh,' Greenda hushed Bagsy, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. 'Teresa won't be able to do anything, I don't think, but I can,' she said quickly. Greenda turned and looked around the common room. She tusked. 'Where's Ford when you need him?' she muttered. 'Alright, Bagsy, lay your rat on the floor. Gently, now. I'm going to try and heal him.'

'It's h-her,' Bagsy sniffled, not sure why she bothered. It didn't really matter at the moment.

'My mistake. I'm going to try and heal her. I'll need you to fetch some things from my room for me while I work. Do you know anything about healing instruments and what they look like?' Greenda's words were confident and informative and, without Bagsy realising it, Greenda had already drawn her wand and was moving it over Bill's still body, a soft green glow at its tip. Bagsy shook her head, for she had absolutely no idea about healing magic. 'That's okay, I'll just describe to you what it looks like,' Greenda decided, the conviction in her voice wavering as her focus on Bill's condition slipped momentarily.

Emmeline was at Greenda's side almost as suddenly as Greenda had first appeared. 'This is what you need, isn't it?' Emmeline asked, placing odd looking instruments by Greenda, who was now knelt next to Bill.

Greenda spared a moments glance at the tools, then Emmeline, before nodding. 'Yes.'

'I can help,' Emmeline added, kneeling down herself. By now, there was a fairly large crowd of students, from first years to sevenths, hovering around the scene. With an annoyed glance Emmeline turned to look at them. 'Give us some space, idiots,' she hissed, 'and one of you for goodness sake go and fetch a professor.'

'I'll do it,' Elijah said in a monotone voice from where he'd been standing, transfixed by the events. He turned and hurried from the room.

'What's all the fuss about? Everyone is so dramatic,' someone muttered from the back of the room.

'Teresa!' came Neve's whispered reply.

'What?'

'Bagsy's rat might die, Teresa,' Neve explained.

'Bill!?' Teresa gasped out, horrified. 'No! She's such a lovely rat!'

Bagsy wasn't paying their words any attention though, she was too busy fretting over Bill. Emmeline was watching calmly as Greenda worked, passing her the instruments she'd need, and prepping certain herbs, crystals and powders for use. Within a few minutes, Greenda had administered a handful of different spells to soothe, sanitize, and close Bill's wounds, and applied a variety of oddly coloured, and oddly smelling, ointments. Bagsy's cream coloured rat looked more like a rainbow with the odd stain of blood.

'Do you need anything else?' Emmeline checked as Greenda inspected Bill. Now that Bagsy was calmer, and looking more closely, she could see the faintest rising and falling in Bill's chest.

'I don't think so, no,' Greenda murmured, her eyes glazed over with concentration as she inspected her patient.

'Who did this?' Emmeline asked suddenly, her wand clasped tightly in her white-knuckled hand.

'Primrose,' Bagsy said quietly.

Rebekah and Logan, who had joined the small group watching on, let out disbelieving snorts.

Rebekah scoffed. 'Honestly, is there anything you won't blame on Primrose? You need to get a life, Bagsy, it's like you're obsessed with her or something.'

Logan nodded his agreement. 'Yeah. Just because Primrose has clawed hands doesn't mean she's the one who hurt your daft old rodent.'

Bagsy shrunk down and looked away from them. She didn't feel like challenging them right then.

Emmeline snarled at Rebekah and Logan. 'Shove off before I make you.' Casting her wary looks, Rebekah and Logan did just that. Emmeline turned back around. 'Bagsy, could you avoid telling the professors about this?' she said in a soft voice that only Bagsy and Greenda were close enough to hear. 'At least, could you tell them you don't know who did it?'

Bagsy looked at Emmeline uncertainly.

'And why should she do that?' Greenda asked harshly. Emmeline didn't respond. 'Why do you even care about Primrose?'

'You know very well why I care,' Emmeline snapped at Greenda, getting to her feet and folding her arms. 'I don't know why I even bothered-'

'I'll do it,' Bagsy cut in, hearing the approach of footsteps too heavy to be a student. 'I won't tell on her.' Emmeline looked gratefully at her. 'On the condition that you pause your fighting for now,' Bagsy continued as she gently picked Bill up and forlornly cradled her in her arms.

With a reluctant look at Greenda, and a regretful glance at the tools she'd placed at her side, Emmeline nodded, before walking away from them.

Surprisingly, it was Professor Blythurst who suddenly appeared in the Hufflepuff common room. Elijah was at his side, looking confused as to how he'd got there. How Blythurst had managed to arrive in his ill state was beyond Bagsy – he looked even worse than Bill. His skin was pasty and pale, his breathing heavy, and yet when he saw what had happened to Bill, and heard Greenda's swift and efficient explanation, there was a red tinge of anger in his face. 'Ms Beetlehorn,' he gasped out, lowering himself stiffly into the largest armchair in the room, that was still far too small even for his deflated frame. It squealed unhappily below him. 'Who…?' Blythurst struggled to say more words, so simply gestured at Bill.

Bagsy shrugged. 'I don't know… I found her like this.'

Blythurst frowned. He took a breath. 'Greenda. Thanks. You've done… good healing. I… expect nothing less… from you…' Blythurst took a shaking hand and dabbed a handkerchief on his forehead. 'Bagsy… you… I am sorry for this,' and he gestured at Bill once more. Bagsy looked at her feet silently. 'May I?'

Bagsy nodded and held Bill out towards Blythurst. His misty eyes focussed in on the poor rat. He tried to hold some spectacles in front of his face, but his arm was too weak and Greenda had to hold them for him.

'I tried my best,' Greenda said to him in a voice she probably thought Bagsy couldn't hear. 'But sometimes there's nothing you can do…'

'Yes, yes…' Blythurst breathed sadly, an unhealthy rattling in his throat. 'Can you… tell her?' he asked with an apologetic look.

Bagsy brought Bill back to her chest, softly stroking the scruff of her neck. 'I know,' was all she said. Bill may be stable now, but she was old, and now she was injured. There was nothing Greenda could have done that she hadn't already – nothing any healing magic in all the world could do. 'I know,' she repeated.

Bagsy didn't let Bill leave her side. She gave her constant pets and cuddles, read her stories about finding the crunchiest parsnips or the softest hammocks, and slept with Bill on the pillow next to her every night. Bill wasn't able to do much beyond blink sleepily, but Bagsy could tell she wasn't in pain, thanks to Greenda's magic.

On Sunday evening, Bagsy placed her index finger next to Bill's little rat hands so she could hold onto her while she slept. When Monday morning came Bagsy woke up, but Bill didn't. On that day, Bagsy decided she really didn't want to go to Charms.

Instead, when Griffin's letter with a host of different quidditch suggestions arrived, Bagsy settled on a different way to spend her morning. Thankfully, Mezrielda agreed to join her.

'Where did you find the box?' Bagsy asked as they walked up to the owlery. Mezrielda had provided a strong, appropriately sized cardboard box that she had decorated in black lace and white ribbons. Bill's body was inside.

'I use a few to organise the trinkets I collect,' Mezrielda explained. 'Are you sure Eldritch will be able to carry that?' Bagsy paused as they reached the entrance of the owlery. Eldritch was a rather small owl, after all, and it was a fairly heavy box. 'Here,' Mezrielda offered, gingerly taking the box from Bagsy's hands. 'Crimson,' Mezrielda called, and her giant eagle-owl swooped down. Bagsy was about to protest – Crimson had never wanted anything more than to eat her pet rats, and now he was being handed the perfect opportunity – but with one harsh look and one harsh "no" from Mezrielda, it became clear that Crimson would be having no rat snacks for a long time.

With an indignant, but obedient, fluffing of his black and brown feathers, Crimson allowed Mezrielda to secure the box to his talons. 'Take this to Griffin Southgate,' Mezrielda instructed him, before Crimson took regally off and flew away from Hogwarts. Bagsy had included instructions for Griffin to bury Bill by the tree where Jill had been buried at the end of Summer. She just hoped Griffin would have access to her house, seeing as Bontie was still missing on her mysterious Ministry work.

With that done, Bagsy and Mezrielda sat down, looking out over the lake, during what would have been their morning Charms lesson.

'Do you want to say a few words?' Mezrielda asked. Bagsy shook her head, pursing her lips as a lump formed in her throat. 'That's fine, Bagsy,' she comforted her, even going so far as giving her an incredibly stilted pat on the head that hurt a bit. Bagsy couldn't help but laugh at the pathetic attempt. 'At least I'm trying,' Mezrielda grumbled jokingly.

'I know,' Bagsy said softly, the lump in her throat growing worse and her breathing becoming staggered. Her face scrunched up and she covered it with her hands and tried to focus on the feeling of Mezrielda placing her hand comfortingly on her shoulder rather than on what had happened.