Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does.
* * *
"You sure you don't want to sneak out?" Ron asked as Adrienne walked them towards the portrait hole.
"Ron, she's in enough trouble all ready!" Hermione hissed, turning around. "There'll be plenty of time to go to Hogsmeade next year, Adrienne."
Adrienne made a face and then nodded, "She's right, I have to get back on Bumble 'n Snore's most favorite list again," she replied, shaking her head in disgust.
"I'm not sure calling him Bumble 'n Snore will make him welcome you back with open arms," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "When I'm through being angry at being punished, I'll call him by his name again," Adrienne replied matter-of-factly.
"Angry at being punished? You put two girls in the hospital wing. You're lucky he didn't expel you," Hermione said shortly.
"It was an accident," Adrienne shot.
"Oh right, Adrienne, you just accidentally hit Parvati and accidentally picked up a crystal ball and then accidentally smashed it into Lavender's head," Hermione said acidly.
"It wasn't my fault!" Adrienne said, taking a step closer to her.
"Wait a second, hold on you two," Harry started, stepping between them.
Both Adrienne and Hermione pushed him out of the way.
"Then whose fault was it?" Hermione asked.
Adrienne stared at her for a second and then took a step backwards, shaking her head.
"If you three are going to go, you'd better go now. You'll wanna be back to watch the dueling tournament tonight," she said calmly. Hermione stared at her for several seconds, her face twisted in an expression that Adrienne couldn't read.
"See you around four?" Harry asked.
Adrienne nodded and watched Ron and Harry walk out of the portrait hole. Hermione didn't move, she just stood there looking at her.
"You really need to talk to someone. There are people who can help you," Hermione began, staring into Adrienne's eyes.
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with me," she replied.
"I'm not the only horrible liar around here, Adrienne," Hermione said slowly. "I'm picking up some hair clips for the dance, would you like me to get you some?"
"I don't need anything else at this point," she mumbled, shaking her head, and then she turned and headed for the staircase.
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne turned around. Hermione was standing by the portrait hole, a hand on her hip, the other fidgeting with her wand.
"What?"
Hermione looked at her for a moment and then looked away. "Never mind. See you around four," she answered, and then disappeared through the portrait hole.
* * *
"Three Butterbeers," Ron said, setting the glasses unto the table in the back of the Three Broomsticks.
"Yum," Harry sighed, reaching for his. He took a deep drink and then set the glass down.
"I don't see how Alicia got smashed off these," Ron said through a mouth of foam.
"Well, what do you expect, she had at least twelve," Hermione replied, moving her chair closer to the table.
"Did you find out anything about that Golden Serpent?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up, her eyes widening.
"Oh, I can't believe I forgot; I did, look!" She rummaged in her bag and then pulled out a green notebook. Hermione set the notebook onto the table and opened it up to a page filled with notes.
"That book you found, Harry, The Introduction of Wands or whatever it was," Hermione began, slightly absentminded in her excitement.
"What about it?" Harry asked, reaching again for his glass.
"I asked Madam Pince about it, something about it seemed off. I don't know, just something put me wrong. You know what she said? That book had been written by none other than your father, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Wormtail," Hermione continued.
"They were published?" Harry asked, setting down his glass. "No, that book was too old, it can't be."
"It was one of their jokes, Harry. Madam Pince told me all about it. It seems Professor Snape had to do a paper on the fall of the Acabadian Arts, so they made a fake source for him, and placed it in the library. According to Madam Pince, Snape used it and failed his paper. She thought she had thrown it out, but I guess she must have forgotten to do that."
"So, what are you saying?" Ron asked. "The Golden Serpent has nothing to do with those Perfect wizards?"
"Most of the stuff in that article was either made up or backwards. According to my research, the Golden Serpent is a dark talisman, an anti-Perfect creation."
"What kind of name is anti-Perfect?" Ron interrupted. "I mean, couldn't they have came up with anything better?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's just like us calling the Acabadians, Perfects, we call their counterparts anti-Perfects. It's shorter. That's just English's use of un, anti, and dis prefixes," Hermione said quickly, leaving Ron with a confused expression, having never before studied the English language.
"Wait, so what does it do?" Harry asked, staring at Hermione through the dim lighting of the bar.
"Well, it turns out, there were only several Perfects left at the time Hogwarts was founded, and Slytherin was one of them. Slytherin, knowing that soon the Perfect Art would become extinct, decided to place his powers into a talisman, knowing that one day another Perfect was bound to be born. Thus, when he died, his powers wouldn't be lost."
"Wait, why would it matter if another Perfect be born?" Harry asked, pulling Hermione's notebook towards him.
"The spell he used to transfer his power is an Acabadian spell, and the counter-spell can only be performed with Acabadian magic. Slytherin designed it so that once a Perfect touched it, the spell would begin."
"What?" snapped Ron.
Hermione signed. "Would you pay attention? Slytherin put his powers into a necklace, and once a Perfect touches the necklace, the powers are released," Hermione explained.
"But who gets them?" Harry asked, reading over Hermione's notes.
"Now that's the stinger. Get this, only Slytherin's heir can receive the powers," Hermione whispered.
Harry looked up quickly. "You mean . . ."
"Harry, don't say it!" Ron said, raising his hands to his ears.
"But that's Voldemort," Harry continued, ignoring Ron.
"What happens to the Perfect though?" Ron asked, lowering his hands once Harry had stopped talking. Hermione's face grew grim.
"But a Perfect wouldn't help You-Know-Who," Ron continued.
"But what if he doesn't know what he's doing?" Harry said. "He could do it by mistake."
"That's the idea," Hermione answered, reaching for her Butterbeer.
"Or, if he read that book your dad wrote, he could think he's getting his own powers and unintentionally help You-Know-Who," Ron said thoughtfully.
"So, who is this Perfect?" Harry asked, slowly, looking up from the notebook.
Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea."
* * *
Adrienne stood silently in the empty common room. Very slowly she walked over to a chair by the fireplace, drawing herself into a ball upon the seat cushion, staring absentmindedly into the flame. Behind her she could hear the patter of first and second year feet, running towards the portrait hole, most likely with intents of enjoying the hospitable weather.
Adrienne took a deep breath and sighed. Parvati and Lavender had been released from the hospital wing Friday night, having made a full recovery, and also having made a pledge to ignore Adrienne completely, which Adrienne was convinced they'd break in a matter of days.
"I want to go to the dance," she moaned, sitting up and drawing her legs to her chest. She leaned her chin atop her knees. "How do I get myself into these messes?"
To Adrienne's immense relief, no one responded, and she smiled. She stood up and walked over to the window, letting her eyes fall over the groups of students playing outside.
"If you cannot act as an adult, then you cannot attend adult functions," she mimicked, shaking her head disgustedly. "How come I can't just scrub the floors!"
Adrienne stomped her foot and turned around, glaring about the room.
"If I were at Salem, I'd be spending all my free time scrubbing the floors." Adrienne scowled, and then, very slowly, smiled.
* * *
"Adrienne, the Headmaster did not say that you could substitute your punishment with physical labor," Professor McGonagall said from behind her desk.
Adrienne cocked her head to the side and frowned.
"I'm not asking to substitute that for everything, just the dance. You can keep me from Hogsmeade until I'm finished here for all I care. I just have to go to this dance," she said in a pleading tone. McGonagall stood up and crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly.
"I don't know, Adrienne," she began.
"I swear, I'll help Filch clean for the rest of the year. I know perfectly well how to scrub floors and windows. I know how to dust and wax. Why, I even know how to paint without dripping on the ground - that has to be some kind of point getter," Adrienne whined. "Please, Professor?"
Professor McGonagall stared at Adrienne for several moments, her dark eyes narrowed behind her spectacles, her mouth pursed.
"Professor, I've all ready been removed from the Quidditch team for missing the game, can't I have just one more exciting event this year" Adrienne begged.
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Have you? When did this occur?" she asked quickly.
"Alicia decided; she's replaced me with Dean Thomas, told me last night she did," Adrienne said dully. "Now about this dance, please, please, please, Professor," Adrienne whined, putting her elbows onto McGonagall's desk and propping up her head.
Professor McGonagall just shook her head in reply. Adrienne sighed and then heaved herself out of her chair.
"Well, it was worth a try," she muttered. "Thanks for listening to me."
Adrienne turned and walked towards the doorway, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob.
"Professor?" she asked, turning around.
"Yes, Miss Potter?" McGonagall replied, asking herself what Adrienne could possibly want now.
"Am I passing your course?" Adrienne asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice.
McGonagall looked at her and nodded.
"Yes you are, Adrienne."
"By how much?"
McGonagall raised an eyebrow and Adrienne sighed.
"It would do good to actually transfigure something correctly before the year ends, is that what you mean?" Adrienne asked.
"Yes, Adrienne, I would recommend you achieve that goal, and soon," McGonagall replied.
"I couldn't clean your study and classroom for the rest of the year in exchange for a passing grade, could I?" Adrienne asked hopefully, a silly grin engulfing her face.
"I take it you are quite used to washing the floors?" McGonagall asked.
"Well, I have had practice."
McGonagall stood up and strode over to the door, stopping next to Adrienne. Adrienne looked up at her.
"I will speak with the Headmaster, and you, you will go practice your Transfiguration. And if you transfigure anyone into a newt, you will spend all of your free time washing floors until you leave here," McGonagall said tersely, while opening the door.
Adrienne walked by her and patted her back reassuringly.
"Don't worry, Professor, it was only you I turned into a newt. Usually I turn people into toads."
* * *
"So, Voldemort. . ."
"Ugh!" Ron moaned, lowering his head to the table.
"wants the Golden Serpent and the Perfect because then he'll be basically unstoppable?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded.
"But wouldn't the Perfect be able to stop him?" Harry continued, pushing his empty Butterbeer glass to the side.
Hermione shifted in her chair and then put her elbows on the table.
"That's what I'm not sure about. I didn't have much time to research the Acabadian Arts at all. You would assume, wouldn't you, that if someone with that kind of magical abilities exists, that You-Know-Who would be worried," Hermione said thoughtfully, "A Perfect could pose quite a threat to him, I'd imagine."
"Didn't Adrienne know something about those Perfects? We could ask her," Ron suggested.
* * *
Adrienne lay sprawled out on the common room floor, her feet raised in the air, her head propped up on one arm, her other arm twirling her wand aimlessly. Before her was a teacup.
"A teacup to a mouse?" she asked slowly, shaking her head skeptically.
"All you have to do is believe you can do it. That's all," she whispered reassuringly. Adrienne frowned and tightened her grip on her wand. Then, raising an eyebrow, shut her eyes.
"A teacup to a mouse. A teacup to a mouse. A teacup to a mouse," she muttered, picturing the floral patterned teacup in her mind. Adrienne tightened her grip on her wand and then flicked her wrist.
'Good morning, child.'
Adrienne flinched and snapped her eyes open.
"Oh dear," she muttered, her horrified eyes roving around the room. In front of her, at least twenty mice were now filing from the teacup, taking off in every direction, chattering and squeaking uncontrollably.
"Wait!" Adrienne yelled, jumping up and running toward the nearest group, her arms flailing.
"No! Nice mice! Nice mice, come on, back in the teacup. Please?" she begged, waving her arms at the mice in a desperate attempt to return them to the teacup.
'Such poor transfiguration skills, especially for a Perfect."'
"Quit it," Adrienne snapped.
She looked wildly around the room as little white mice ran under the chairs, under tables, and up the staircase.
"Now what do I do? I've given the house a rodent infestation!" she sighed. "How come Hermi isn't here? She could fix this in a snap."
Adrienne took one last look around the room and then collapsed into a chair.
'You could transfigure a cat,' the cold voice suggested. Adrienne sat up bolt in her chair.
"Crookshanks!" She launched from her seat and sped up the staircase, through the hallway, and kicked open her dormitory door.
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Adrienne whispered, staring around the room. Crookshanks lifted his huge head off Hermione's pillow and stared at Adrienne with his large yellow eyes.
"Good kitty. Nice kitty," Adrienne pleaded, and then lunged toward the bed, grabbing the cat around its large middle and hauling it toward the door.
"Umf, kitty needs to go on a diet, doesn't he?" she muttered as she staggered down the stairs. Adrienne walked towards the teacup and put Crookshanks onto the ground beside it. She put her hands on her hips and stared expectantly at him.
"Well, you're a cat, so go chase the mice," she instructed. Crookshanks looked up at her and then flopped down on the ground. "No! I didn't say lay down, I said run the mice down! Wouldn't you sleep better on a full belly?" Adrienne exclaimed. Crookshanks stared at her for a moment and then lazily shut his eyes.
"I never did like you, you - you big dumb fur cushion," Adrienne snapped.
'You could use the Imperious curse,' the voice suggested in a drawling tone that made Adrienne shiver and narrow her eyes.
"I am not using the Imperious curse, you nitwit," she spat.
'You wouldn't get in trouble for using it on a cat. Plus, who's getting hurt? Only the mice are, and then you wouldn't be in trouble for setting a group of rodents all over Gryffindor tower,' the voice reasoned, echoing slightly in her head.
Adrienne slowly sat down in a nearby chair, shaking her head.
'Just raise your wand, child, and say the words. No one gets hurt.'
Adrienne stared down at her right hand, at the mahogany wand gripped tightly in it, and then slowly, while still shaking her head, pointed it at the cat.
* * *
"It's four. I bet Adrienne's still in the common room," Ron said as he, Harry, and Hermione walked across the grounds.
"I wonder what she did all day," Harry mused aloud. Ron shrugged his shoulders and then smiled suddenly.
"I wonder if she missed me?" he breathed.
Harry and Hermione snickered but said nothing. They walked in silence for several minutes, content just to look at the grounds, wondering when spring would set it.
"What's that?" Hermione exclaimed as they neared the castle.
Harry ripped his eyes away from the lake, where Fred and George were wrestling the squid.
"What's what?" he asked, looking around.
"That, up ahead," Hermione said, pointing to a patch of white on the brown grass. The three sped up their pace.
"Oh sick!" Hermione whispered, raising a hand to her mouth.
"Ugh," Ron groaned.
"They're mice," Harry said, bending down to get a closer look, "and they're all dead." He shook his head and stood up.
"Well, I don't know about Adrienne, but Mrs. Norris sure has been busy today," Hermione whispered, horrified.
* * *
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne turned around in her chair expectantly, but her face fell as she saw who had called her. Professor McGonagall walked through the portrait hole, holding her robes around her in an imperial fashion.
"Yes, Professor?" Adrienne said, hastily, quickly reaching back and pulling her hair into a sloppy ponytail.
"I spoke to the Headmaster, and he is willing to allow you to attend the formal, provided that you stick to your agreement regarding assisting Filch," Professor McGonagall said in a bland tone, keeping her face completely impassive, thus not allowing Adrienne to decide if she was pleased or disappointed by Dumbledore's decision. Adrienne broke into a huge smile and stood up.
"Oh, thank you, Professor!" she exclaimed, running toward her Professor.
Professor McGonagall took a step backwards to steady herself as Adrienne embraced her in a very unexpected hug, wrapping her arms quite tightly around McGonagall's shoulders.
"Yes, well . . ." she said uncomfortably, stepping backwards, "you start tomorrow. Report to Mr. Filch's office at eight in the morning."
Adrienne's smile fell, but she nodded. Professor McGonagall turned around and walked towards the portrait hole, which flung open just as she reached it.
"Oops, sorry Professor," Hermione exclaimed as she quickly sidestepped her to avoid a collision.
"It's quite all right, Miss Granger," McGonagall replied, and then, smiling slightly at the two boys who subsequently entered, hurried through the portrait hole and out of sight.
"So, how was Hogsmeade?" Adrienne asked, walking towards them.
"'Bout the same as usual," Ron replied.
Adrienne raised her eyebrows. "That's real great to know, as I've not been there yet," she said edgily.
"We spent the entire time at the Three Broomsticks," Harry answered, walking over towards their usual table. "We brought you a bottle." He held out a dark colored bottle that Adrienne hadn't seen him carry in. She smiled and took it.
"Gee, thanks," she said with a nod. "So, what did you do the entire time there?"
"I was telling them what I found out about the Golden Serpent -" Hermione started, but was interrupted by the loud crash that filled the room as Adrienne dropped her bottle, splashing her robes and the floor with Butterbeer and glass.
"Now I needed that just about as much as I needed a hole in my head," she muttered, reaching for her wand to clean it up.
"WAIT!" Harry and Ron called out in unison, jumping forward and making blind reaches for her outstretched arm. Adrienne drew her arm back quickly and glared at them.
"Can't we at least once have enough faith in my magical abilities as to let me clean up my own mess?" Adrienne snapped, narrowing her eyes.
"No!" the three answered in unison. Hermione drew her wand and with a wave, the Butterbeer and glass had disappeared.
"There's no use crying over spilt milk. Ever hear that, Yank?" came a voice from behind Adrienne. Adrienne whipped around and offered Parvati and Lavender a sarcastic smile.
"Well, with you, there's tons to cry about over spilt anything," Lavender said in a cold voice.
"I'll give ya'll something to cry about . . ." Adrienne began, narrowing her eyes. Parvati laughed.
"I dare you. Come on, knock me again," she drawled, jutting out her olive face.
"Professor McGonagall told us that you'd be sent back to Salem if you got in another fight," Lavender said, "So, come on, let us have it."
Adrienne stared at them and shrugged off the hand Harry had placed on her shoulder.
"Shove off," Adrienne spat at them and then turned around to face her friends.
"What exactly did they do to you?" Hermione asked as they took their chairs.
"Stuff."
Hermione stared at her, but didn't ask anything else.
"What do you know about Perfects?" Ron asked, pulling his chair closer to Adrienne. Adrienne sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"Not much. I know they can do magic without their wands, and that's about all," she replied, beginning to fidget with her wand. Ron sighed and shot a glance at Harry, who had a disappointed look on his face.
"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I guess there's only one thing left to do," Ron started, frowning deeply, lines etched momentarily into his face, showing that he was struggling greatly with what he was about to say, "I guess we'll have to pay a visit to the library again."
"Why?" Adrienne asked, looking around at her three friends. "Why does it even matter about the Perfects?"
"Because, Adrienne, like I already explained . . . wait, you weren't there," Hermione finished. Adrienne rolled her eyes.
"What did you explain?"
"That Golden Serpent that the Ministry is looking for, it's a dark talisman. That book Harry found on it was wrong, completely and utterly wrong."
Adrienne raised her eyebrow and smiled slightly, thinking that perhaps she had been all worked up over nothing.
"Ok, so, what does it do?"
* * *
The next day Adrienne hurried out of bed, threw on her most worn school robes, wrote a hurried note to Hermione, and ran out of the tower. The halls were void of students, most sleeping in after the excitement of the duel. Hufflepuff had pulled off an unbelievable victory over Slytherin, which included one duel that lasted an hour and a half, mainly due to the fact that Slytherin was competing with a substitute who only used one curse the entire time.
"You the Miles girl?" came a croaky voice.
Adrienne jumped and looked around. She had reached Filch's office without even realizing it. In an open doorway several feet away from her stood Argus Filch, wearing old gray robes that were tinged with a greenish outline, which looked quite unmistakably like mold.
"Yup," she replied, trying hard not to wrinkle her nose.
It seemed that with being the sole caretaker of such a large castle, Filch didn't find the time, or just didn't care to make the time, to shower regularly. On the ground, Mrs. Norris was weaving around his ankles, glaring up at Adrienne with her cruel and calculating yellow eyes.
"Kids these days are nothing but trouble makers. All they do is fight, and push, and play jokes, and destroy, and fight, and … and … fight some more. Nothing but no good, disrespectful, completely unreliable, dirty, lying, trouble makers. All kids should be hung on account of plotting to be trouble makers," Filch spat.
Adrienne bit her lip, threw a horrified glance around her, and began to wonder if working for Filch would be worth just a dance.
"Well, um, perhaps hanging isn't the best way to go about it?" Adrienne suggested timidly, raising a hand to neck, imagining what it would feel like to be hung. Filch glared at her and then motioned her into his office.
"Putting girls in the hospital wing for days? That's what you're here for, you scoundrel?" Filch said as he sat down behind his cluttered and dusky oak desk.
"Um, sure, why not," Adrienne replied, looking around the room.
File cabinet upon file cabinet were lined along every wall, each reading an alphabetized lettering system, and Adrienne noticed that Fred and George seemed to have an entire wall devoted to them alone.
"So, how many floors do I have to scrub?" Adrienne asked, turning her attention back to Filch, who was now rummaging through a drawer. He looked up quickly.
"All of them," he replied and then continued his rummaging.
"All of them?" Adrienne exclaimed.
"What did you expect, dearie, a day at the park? You commit a crime, you have to be up to paying the consequences. That's the problem with kids these days, not willing to take charge for their actions, always wanting to blame it on someone else. Well let me tell you something, girl, you'll get the full work up with me, and don't think I'll lighten up on account of good behavior. The likes of you aren't capable of good behavior, it's just good acting skills, no doubt learned while you try and look innocent when you rip off an old man's hat. Don't you think for one instant I don't know it was one of your cronies who ripped off my hat!"
Filch was seething now and his wrinkled face was drawn up in the grimace of all grimaces. Adrienne pushed her chair back from the desk and bit her lip.
"I didn't take your hat, sir, and I don't know who did - "
"All you do is lie!"
"I don't even have cronies!" Adrienne yelled back.
Filch slammed his hand atop the desk. "Do not deny it!"
"I didn't even know you had a hat!" Adrienne shot back, narrowing her eyes defensively.
"And now you can wash all the windows too for lying!"
"But I'm not lying!"
"And scrub all the portraits!"
"But - "
"And no magic!"
Adrienne's eyes flashed and she jumped up.
"Fine, no magic!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"You lying scoundrel!" Filch yelled at her.
"You, you, great big meany!" Adrienne shot back. "And I hope someone steps on your cat!"
"Plotting against my cat? Why you little - " and then Filch stopped, slowly sat down, and stared at her.
"What, at a loss of insulting things to call me?" Adrienne asked.
Filch didn't say anything for a second and then reached down for a bucket and rag, which he handed her over the desk.
"In all my years at this school, I've been called worse thing than you've heard, but only one other girl has called me a great big meany and hoped someone would step on my cat," Filch said slowly, staring at Adrienne. "What did you say your surname was again?"
Adrienne's jaw dropped. "Miles," she said hesitantly, having decided that announcing her name as Potter would have caused an uproar through the school that she wasn't ready to handle yet. Filch shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
"Funny, from the way you talk and how you look, I would say your name's something else…well, you quivering baby, get to work, and mind you, Mrs. Norris will be watching you the entire time. One hint of magic and you'll hang," Filch said, narrowing his eyes again.
"One hint of magic and you'll hang!" mimicked Adrienne as she made her way down to the Entrance Hall, "that sniveling snickerdoodle."
Had it been anyone else, washing all the floors in the school would have been a daunting task, but for Adrienne, who had washed more floors in the last four years than probably all the students at Hogwarts and any other European wizarding school put together, it was a piece of cake.
Adrienne filled up her bucket with water from a nearby bathroom, added the soap and then walked to the giant oak doors. She bent down, tightened the string that was holding the towels to the bottom of her feet, and then straightened back up. She glanced around the empty hall and took a large kick at the bucket, sending water flying all over the floor.
Professor McGonagall watched from a nearby corridor as Adrienne skated over the wet floor, drying it with the towels, and signing in a rather off key tone of voice that made McGonagall wince . . .
"There was an old lady who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn't know what to do…" and then upon realizing she didn't know the rest of the song… "so she fed them to a snake."
Professor McGonagall made a mental note to never recommend Adrienne for babysitting and then returned to her study.
* * *
Adrienne was sliding down the corridor next to the library when she finally saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, rounding the corner, Hermione carrying her green notebook and a quill.
"Hey guys!" Adrienne called, skating up to them. They stopped in their tracks and watched her approach.
"Aren't you afraid you'll fall?" Hermione asked slowly, watching with apprehension. Adrienne shrugged.
"Nah! Done this loads of times, I just gotta remind myself not to go too fast on the really wet parts," she replied, just as one foot slipped out from the other and she fell right on her butt, sliding the rest of the way to her friends.
"You mean, like that?" Ron asked sardonically. Adrienne glared up at him.
"We're going to the library, Adri, you want to come?" Harry asked hastily, reaching down to give her a hand up.
"What you looking for?" Adrienne asked, eyeing Hermione's notebook.
"For stuff about those Perfects," Ron answered. "You know, your entire backside is soaked."
Adrienne looked behind her and then shrugged.
"Oh well. What is with you guys and this Perfect business?" Adrienne asked shortly; what Hermione had told her about the Golden Serpent hadn't reassured her one bit. "You could stay and keep me company."
Hermione looked behind her at the flooded corridor.
"How much do you have left to do?" she asked.
Adrienne looked around. "Oh, only 'bout seven floors," she replied, counting on her fingers.
"Seven floors!" Harry exclaimed. "No really, they're not making you clean all the floors?"
"Yup, and the windows, and the portraits," Adrienne mumbled.
"Well, you did get in a fight," Hermione reasoned, but stopped upon seeing Adrienne's annoyed face.
"I'm quite aware of that, Hermi, must you remind me every single day?" she shot.
Hermione didn't reply, but it looked like she was biting her lip to keep from saying anything.
"Well, let's get this dumb library thing over before I change my mind," Ron sighed.
"But the floor isn't dry," Hermione began, looking again down the wet corridor.
"No problem, I'll clean it again, just walk on over. But take care not to slip, you'll bruise," said Adrienne, wearing a serious expression.
* * *
"There's only five books on Perfects in this whole library?" Ron asked gleefully, reaching for one of the books Hermione had set on the table.
"Only five," she confirmed, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She and Harry both reached for a book.
"What about this?" Ron said, looking up and beginning to read, "Perfects had great difficulty using the newly developed wands."
"Hmm," she replied, uninterested, not taking her attention away from the large, leather bound book before her.
Ron shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Harry. "Guess that wasn't what she was looking for," he whispered.
They sat in silence, scanning the large books before them, squinting in the bright sunlight that was pouring through a nearby open window.
"Wait, listen to this," said Hermione, abruptly, her eyes lighting up. "Because the magical powers of a Perfect were theoretically limitless, the thirst for omnipotence was often too much for many. The majority of those who practices the Acabado Art used it for Dark practices. Those who could resist the temptation lived their lives only using magic sparingly and never using any spells, such as those to raise the dead or prevent death, which required the sacrifice of another. Those who were not strong enough to do this, but refused to resort to Dark practices, often lost their sanity. Modern day scholars commonly refer to this mechanism as the Price of Perfection. It is credited with instigating the eventual downfall of the Acabadian Arts.
"Many of those who turned to the Dark, today referred to as anti-Perfects, were defeated several years prior to the foundation of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first school of modern magic.
"With the eventual defeat of those on the Dark, the remaining Perfects, those both sane and not, slowly died away. It is believed that several were born with Perfect powers at the time that Hogwarts was being created, but as the new form of magic was seen to be not only safer, but more limited, those children were instead instructed at Hogwarts."
Harry frowned. "Perfects weren't the greatest people in the world, were they?" Harry asked.
"These scholars don't really speak too highly of them either. Seems they think that the concept of theoretically all-powerful magic is a dangerous idea," Hermione added, flipping through more pages.
"And they should think that!" Ron interrupted. "Think if some were born today? They wouldn't really have any codes or laws to follow to regulate their magic; they could do what ever they wanted, couldn't they?" Ron asked hotly.
"If they were weak or really didn't believe in right or wrong, I suppose so," she said with a frown, telling herself that perhaps she'd have to order some books on the subject from Flourish and Blotts.
* * *
Had it not been for Professor Snape, Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins, and Lavender and Parvati taking great pains to walk through Adrienne's drying floors, she would have been done in record time. This, however, did not faze Adrienne in the least.
"There, that's that, and I'm done!" she sighed Thursday night, looking proudly at the last window she had washed, and then turning her head as voices wafted into the corridor.
"I cannot believe the dance is tomorrow. Do you know what I foresaw only last night?"
"Oh, do tell me, for I had a vision also, perhaps they are of the same substance?"
Adrienne smiled evilly and slowly followed the voices down the corridor.
"It was of the formal," came Lavender's voice as Adrienne drew nearer.
"Yes? And were you wearing the purple dress?" Parvati asked excitedly.
"Oh, you saw that too? The fates must be telling me that I'll be graced in lavender tomorrow," Lavender squealed.
"As beautiful as your name!"
"Oh what kind of stupid prediction is that? That's the only color dress you have, Lavender Smavender," Adrienne muttered, rolling her eyes. "Anyone who's seen your wardrobe could have predicted that one."
Adrienne reached the stairwell and looked over the railing. Two floors below, Lavender and Parvati were standing on an island, talking animatedly in very loud voices, no doubt to make sure everyone in hearing distance heard about their "predictions." Adrienne stood there for a second, wearing a calculating look, staring down at them, and then, without hesitation, heaved her dirty bucket onto the ledge and tipped it. Their screams filled the air as murky and soapy water rained down upon them. Adrienne ran down the stairs, skidding to a halt feet away from them.
"Thought you needed a good washing, slimeballs," she spat, and then, before they could think of anything to say, Adrienne gave them the thumbs up and sashayed away, yelling behind her, "The drowned rat look works great with your eyes!"
* * *
"Where is everyone?" Adrienne asked as she pushed her way into the dormitory Friday afternoon. Hermione looked up from her book.
"One of Parvati and Lavender's seventh year friends is letting them prepare in her dormitory," Hermione said distractedly.
"Let us sing the praises of that dear, blessed girl!" Adrienne exclaimed, skipping over to her bed.
Hermione shook her head and put down her book. Adrienne stopped next to her cabinet and pulled it open.
"I suppose it's time to get ready," Hermione sighed, heaving herself off her bed. "What are you doing with your makeup and hair?"
Adrienne stopped mid-reach for her gown and flew around. She hadn't thought of that.
"I'm not doing anything," she replied quickly, still refusing to look in a mirror. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"When over holiday did you decide to stop taking any notice about your appearance. I mean, no make-up, no hairdos, not that that's bad, but you did use to care at least a bit about them. Even Pansy Parkinson takes more care of her appearance than you do lately, and come on, Adrienne, that's really saying something," Hermione said, looking at her strangely.
Adrienne stiffened. "I just don't want to be that superficial, that's all," she lied.
Hermione shook her head and walked over to her friend. "Then I'll do it for you," she suggested. Adrienne flew around, a horrified look on her face.
"I am not letting you touch my hair, Miss I-Work-For-Helga's-International-House-Of-Pain! I'll be bald by the time you're done with me!" Adrienne exclaimed, raising her hands and grabbing her hair in a protectionistic attitude.
* * *
"Really now, this is getting ridiculous," Ron moaned as he and Harry trudged up the spiral staircase. "The dance started more than fifteen minutes ago!"
"Well, at least being late with Hermione and Adrienne is better than going with Parvati and Padma and being on time," Harry suggested.
Ron stormed down the girls' corridor, Harry following with a rather amused expression. Both boys had acquired tuxes through the help of Sirius over the winter holiday, and Harry had to admit that they were a lot more dignifying to wear than his bottle-green dress robes, which made him feel like he was wearing a dress, even more so than his normal robes.
"Those girls," Ron muttered. "Are you two almost done? The dance is probably already over by now!"
"Don't feel rushed or anything!" Harry called through the door, smirking at Ron, who was pounding on it with is fists.
"Keep your pants on! Geez!" The door swung open and Adrienne gave Ron a shove on the shoulder. "It's just a dance!"
Ron staggered backwards and then, upon regaining his balance, gapped wide-eyed at her. Adrienne stood in the doorway, her black hair pulled up onto the top of her head in a crown of ringlets. Around her neck lay a tight choker made entirely out of crystal, thanks solely to Hermione's wonderful transfiguration skills. Upon her shoulders were two thin blue straps that connected at her collarbone with butterfly clasps to the rest of her dress. From the high neckline all the way down to her hips, sparkling blue material fit like a second skin, and then upon meeting her hips, flowed down around her in a princess style, stopping right above her heels.
"Wow," Ron muttered breathlessly, his jaw still hanging open.
"Ya like?" Adrienne said timidly, smiling hopefully at him. Ron nodded, a huge smile breaking over his face.
"You're beautiful!" Harry said, smiling at her. "Really, really gorgeous."
"Thanks!" Adrienne said, raising her eyebrows and shoulders in excitement. "Hermi! Come on!" Adrienne turned on her heel and walked back into the dormitory, leaving Ron and Harry staring after her.
"Wow, that back makes up for the high neck, doesn't it?" Ron said slowly.
"What do you mean back?" Harry asked slowly, "There's barely any back. I think I agree with that Professor of hers - "
"If you guys think I look pretty, wait until you see, Hermi!" Adrienne called through the dormitory, pulling Hermione out of a corner.
Hermione wore a dark plum dress that had a circle neckline, fitting right at her collarbones also, and flowed beautifully all the way down to her ankles. Small plum rhinestones adorned the torso, gathering in their frequency until they formed the entire last two inches of her skirt. Her hair was pulled back with a sparkling headband and flowed in gentle curls down her shoulders.
"Wow again," Ron said, blinking several times.
Harry just stood there until Adrienne cleared her throat, rather loudly, and sent him a piercing stare. Only then did Harry stride forward and kiss Hermione's cheek.
"Stunning," he whispered, and then turned to Ron. "How do you suppose we landed with the best looking girls in the school?"
"Your dumb luck," Adrienne said with a laugh, and then grabbed Ron by the arm and led him through the doorway.
When they arrived at the head of the marble staircase, Harry looked in wonder out over the balcony. Below him, multitudes of students dressed in exquisite outfits were meandering from the open doors leading to the Great Hall. Through the doors at the end of the room before him, Harry could make out the glow radiating from the Great Hall, and quite excitedly, pulled Hermione after him as he made his way down the staircase. Ron and Adrienne followed them, Adrienne clinging tightly onto Ron's arm in a desperate attempt to not tumble down the stairs.
"This is going to be wonderful!" Adrienne sighed as she and Ron reached the foot of the staircase. Ron nodded his head fervently.
"Come on, they're getting ahead of us!" Adrienne urged, trying to catch up to Harry and Hermione.
The long House tables in the Great Hall had been removed, and unlike last year, there were few circular tables. These were pushed back into the corners and adorned with pale pink tablecloths and crystal vases that held small, light purple water-proof flames. Above the dance floor, suspended in mid-air were glorious diamond chandeliers that caused the glow from the purple flames to sparkle along the walls and the dancers.
"Ugh!" Adrienne moaned as she and Ron entered the Hall. Ron stopped in his tracks and turned.
"What's the matter?" he asked urgently, afraid he had already done something wrong.
"The Weird Sisters, I HATE the Weird Sisters. They're just … they're just …" Adrienne muttered, looking for the right word.
"Weird?" Ron suggested. Adrienne looked up at him and grinned.
"Exactly."
Ron looked around the room, searching for the band. His eyes fell upon the dance floor, where the students had just recently flocked to as a slow dance had began. Professor McGonagall, in a long, black dress, with a shimmering shawl over her shoulders was waltzing, not in time to the music at all, with Professor Dumbledore, who was wearing a bright turquoise suit. Ron chuckled and moved on. On the other side of the floor, Draco Malfoy was dancing with Pansy Parkinson, who, in the candlelight looked more like a pug than ever.
"I think he's blind," Adrienne whispered, standing on her tiptoes to reach Ron's ear. He turned and looked at her, a confused smile on his freckly face.
"Who?" he asked.
"Draco! I mean, Pansy is so ugly. He either has to be blind, or perhaps somewhere deep down he's really sweet and understanding and realizes that true beauty fades but the inner beauty only blossoms," Adrienne said with a tinge of sarcasm that made Ron laugh.
"I'll take blind for four hundred, please," Ron replied.
*
"Harry?" Hermione said wearily as they made their way along the edge of the dance floor.
"Hmm?"
The two stopped next to an empty table. Hermione turned and pointed.
"There's Adrienne and Ron," she said, indicating between two dancing couples she didn't know. Harry leaned slightly closer to her to see where she was pointing. He straightened back up and nodded.
"Yup," he replied, looking down at her with a straight face.
"So, don't you want to go over with them?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to see over Lavender and Dean, who had just blocked her view. Harry shook his head, and reached for her hand.
"Not particularly. Personally? I want to dance," he said, and then led her, weaving through the multitudes of people, to the center of the dance floor.
*
"I don't see them," Adrienne said, standing on her tiptoes to see through the crowd, "Wait, I'll stand on the chair, then I can see."
She moved toward a nearby, unoccupied chair, but Ron caught her around the waist and pulled her back, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"The last thing you need to do tonight is fall off a chair," he whispered. Adrienne grinned, not the least bit offended. She rested her hands on his.
"Ok, now that we've established the last thing on my to-do list for tonight, what's my first?" she asked slowly, grinning wider.
"I say, we dance," Ron said, turning and facing her toward the dance floor. Adrienne smiled.
"And no protesting either, because I checked, it's not the Weird Sisters; Fred and George are in charge of music," Ron said, and then frowned, "Merlin, this could be interesting."
*
The dance was winding toward an end, and Adrienne and Ron, dancing in an attempt to copy Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore's waltzing, managed to dance right into another couple.
"Balance problems, Adrienne?" Harry asked as she apologized for almost knocking him and Hermione over. Adrienne glared at him.
"No," she shot.
"There isn't much left, is there?" Ron asked, looking around disappointedly as people began to slowly file off the floor in exhaustion.
"It's over at midnight," Hermione said, wishing she had worn a watch.
"Well then, what are we standing around for?" Adrienne exclaimed, reaching for Ron, "We should be dancing all the way until the clock strikes twelve!" And with that she led Ron away.
*
As Fred announced the last dance of the evening, Adrienne raised her arms and wrapped them around Ron's neck, and gazed up at him, smiling radiantly, listening to the beautiful lyrics playing in her ear.
Ron wrapped his arms around her back and then slowly let them slide down until they rested on her hips. Completely content, Adrienne moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes, thinking how wonderful the night had been: No voice, no torments, no reminders that somehow in the past two months, someone she had never met had made her lose a match, miss a Quidditch game, knock out Parvati and Lavender, and use the Imperious Curse on Crookshanks. Adrienne smiled and sighed.
'Enjoying the dance?'
Adrienne tensed and snapped her eyes open. Ron jumped back, startled, looking at her with a worried expression.
"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching for her shoulder. Adrienne nodded, her heart rising in her throat.
"I'm fine," she whispered, stepping toward him. Ron wrapped his arms back around her and Adrienne put her head back on his shoulder.
'Please go away,' she thought, squeezing her eyes shut in hope.
'What did I tell you?" Adrienne tightened her grip on Ron's shoulders, as if the closer she got to him, the more distance she could put between herself and the voice.
'That's quite a pretty song, is it not? And so true,' the voice laughed, causing Adrienne to wince in pain. 'You think that you can hide from me? You think you can just wish me away? You can't. You can't escape. You can't hide. I've already won.'
'Can you see your brother? I bet you can. Look at him.'
'No,' Adrienne thought, her eyes clamped shut, 'I won't!'
'Look at him,' the voice ordered, the shrill mocking tone dropping to a growl.
Adrienne reluctantly, although her mind was yelling at her not to, opened her eyes, and turned her head ever so slightly.
'See him? He's dancing with that Mudblood, isn't he?'
Adrienne's eyes began to tear and she tightened her grip even more on Ron.
'Well, answer me, child!'
"Yes," Adrienne whispered.
"What did you say, Adrienne?" Ron said, turning his head slightly to look at her.
"Nothing," Adrienne replied in a quiet voice.
'This will be the last time he dances with her, won't it?'
Adrienne bit her lip.
'I won't help you,' she thought, her heart tightening in her chest. The voice laughed.
'You don't have a choice. You really are stupid, aren't you? You haven't realized it, or are you trying to believe it isn't happening? You can't tell me no, can you? Look at all I've made you do? Did you ever think you'd stoop low enough to curse a cat? Especially that of your best friend?'
'I won't help you,' Adrienne repeated, her mind flashing before you, her heart clenching.
He was right; she hadn't been able to stop herself from doing any of her things. She never wanted to lose the match. She had contemplated it, yes, but she'd never actually do it. Yet, she lost, and to Cho! CHO! Adrienne slammed her eyes shut. She hadn't fallen asleep and missed the Quidditch game on purpose, and hadn't she asked Lavender and Parvati to leave? And Crookshanks, he could have just caught those damned mice in the first place.
'You can't escape me, and you will help me.'
'What if I don't?' Adrienne asked, taking deep breaths. The voice laughed, and Ron could feel Adrienne flinch again.
'If, for some reason, Perfect, you prove to be stronger than you really are, then I'll just let it slip why the Death Eaters came to the Gallows, why they wanted you. You do realize - or haven't you studied Perfects yet - there were very few Perfects who didn't end up practicing Dark Magic. The temptation to be omnipotent, it's too much. I bet the majority of people will be afraid of you, won't they? Especially as all those people at the Gallows died because of you. Think of your professors … think of that Mondel guy, after all the help he gave you, he died because of you. What kind of repayment is that, murderer?'
"I didn't kill anyone," Adrienne whispered.
Ron looked down at her quickly, his eyes narrowed in a confused expression.
"Adrienne?" he said, bending his head down a little. Adrienne ignored him.
'They died because of you though, making you a murderer, and even so you will be once you give me your brother. Think of the headlines: Missing Potter Child Delivers her Brother to Voldemort.'
Adrienne's eyes snapped open.
'Don't fight me, child. Think of how powerful I can make you. I'm asking you for your help.'
Adrienne shook her head angrily, her eyes narrowing, and stepped back from Ron. Next to her, Hermione and Harry stopped dancing, too occupied with staring at her.
"Adrienne?" Harry asked, stepping away from Hermione. Ron stepped closer to her, but Adrienne didn't notice.
'I won't,' she thought, closing her eyes, trying extremely hard to contain the hatred that was building in her gut.
'You'll always be alone,' the voice echoed through her head, 'Join me, Adrienne. When will you ever fit in here? You can't do their magic. You can't compete with your brother's fame. Join me.'
Adrienne blinked and opened her eyes, ahead of her stood Ron and Harry.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, reaching for her. Adrienne sidestepped his hand, drawing her skirt up around her.
"I don' t feel well, excuse me," she whispered, and then ran from the room, leaving her best friend, her boyfriend, and her brother staring after her.
* * *
Voldemort, slightly winded from keeping the curse going for so long, set down his wand and the wand Adrienne had dropped in the forest outside of the Gallows. He leaned back in his chair and stared triumphantly around his dark chamber.
"Were you successful, master?" Lucius asked, stepping out of the shadows with Wormtail. Voldemort sneered.
"Of course I was. She is so insecure already, it makes her much easier to manipulate," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes flashing hungrily.
"When will it be time, my Lord?" Wormtail asked, approaching cautiously.
"Soon, Wormtail, soon. She can't fight me: She's too dumb to, too weak. She's at Hogwarts, with Harry, and anytime I want her to be, she's under my control. She can't tell them anything: I've taken care of that. This time, I won't fail," Voldemort hissed, reaching for the box on the nearby table. He slowly opened it and withdrew the Golden Serpent, watching it shimmer in the torchlight.
"Admirable Slytherin?" he asked into the silent chamber, "you knew all along that the Dark Arts would regain their strength. But did you know it would be Gryffindor's own descendant who would destroy everything he and those other two fools worked so hard to build?" Voldemort's laughter echoed through the chamber and he slowly put the serpent back in its box.
"My darling, Adrienne," Voldemort whispered, "it's almost time."
* * *
The corridors were filled with the suppressed chatter of the exhausted students, each standing rather close to the one that drew their affection, the girls flirtatiously playing with their hair, batting their eyelashes with the rapidity of hummingbird wings, while the boys stood, often leaning against a wall, staring contentedly. Not one person of this scene noticed the girl walk past them. They didn't notice the purpose in her stride, nor did they notice the look of malignant hatred splashed across her tear-stained face. They didn't comprehend the fire in her eye, the fire that had been missing for so long; and now, in the state of utter confusion and vicious vengeance that was coursing through her body, Adrienne didn't notice those around her either. She didn't hear their sing-song, coy voices. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her fists clenched, her heeled shoes being ground into the floor with every stomping stride she took.
The portrait-laden corridors flew by her in a mix of color and overwhelming confusion. The tapestries that served as entrances into hidden staircases didn't draw her attention; she just walked right through them, letting them slide up her face and across her crowned hair, tossing the curls Hermione had spent so long trying to tame into a tangle of snarled, black hair. The stairs were ahead of her, their steps beckoning to her with a urgency that made her hurry, hustling up them, her heels clicking, her dress drew up around her to facilitate her quick and necessary footsteps. She entered a dead-end corridor, yet she didn't turn, nor did she slow down. As the end approached and the portrait of the Fat Lady came into view, Adrienne opened her mouth.
"Inverness," she said in an emotionless tone of voice, and then walked through the portrait hole into the semi-empty common room. Several students looked up from their dreamy reveries of the dance, staring at Adrienne in a surprised way. Adrienne paid no attention to their stares, and slowly, as she began her ascent up the spiral staircase, the quiet chatter resumed as all realerted their attention to more pressing matters, such as whom had danced with whom.
She walked with the same purpose up the spiral staircase and then strode through the hallway, her feet no longer clicking her progress, but instead her stomps were muffled by the rich, purple carpeting. The doorway on the right, labeled with a platinum-plated 5, was her goal, and with quick hands she grabbed the doorknob and let go, letting the door swing open with the masked force from the small push she had given it. All four beds were but mere shadows in the moonlight, the shapes of the hangings casting odd outlines onto the dim walls. Adrienne shut the door behind her and walked down the middle of the row between the beds, her eyes staring out the window ahead of her. Her feet turned in direction, leading her to the left. The rest of her body followed, her eyes now lowered to the floor. Finally, her outstretched arms hit it, and her fingers ran over the smooth and cool surface. Then, with great reluctance, she raised her head.
In the mirror her reflection stood. Adrienne stared at it, her eyes starting at the hem of her gown, then traveling upwards, along the dress' line until she arrived at the face she hadn't looked into since the day in the hospital wing. Her bright green eyes stared back at her, and she smiled slightly at the sight of her ragged hair. Adrienne didn't move, didn't speak. She just stared into the mirror, not at anything in particular, just stared. Finally, when she didn't know what else to look at, she raised her right hand, fingers spread, and looked at the reflection of her palm.
"A symbol of strength?" she whispered into the darkness. Her mind returned to the scene that had taken place ten minutes earlier. She had left the dance, unable to stand it anymore, unable to stand the fact that half the time she was definitely not the one in control of her own actions. Adrienne raised her eyes and stared back into the reflected green orbs, wondering, her patience gone. The evening had been so perfect, so wonderful. She had enjoyed herself so much, enjoyed Ron so much, enjoyed everything so much. Adrienne narrowed her eyes.
"A symbol of strength?" she repeated, staring intently into her own eyes, "we'll see."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 27: The Price of Perfection
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"Cesgiuds?" Draco Malfoy drawled, his pale face drawn into an enormous grimace, his gray eyes glaring dangerously at the small animal before him.
"Cesguids," Hagrid replied, staring down at the several small creatures at his feet, a loving gleam in his eye.
"They look like squid," Hermione whispered to Harry.
The early morning February sun was beating down upon the students, who, in their winter cloaks were deeply regretting dressing so warmly.
"No, they look like jelly-fish," Harry clarified, reaching up and fanning himself with his hand. "Isn't it supposed to be winter?"
The ground was completely void of snow, and instead, the dull brown of early spring had taken over the land, making everything look as dead as could be.
"It's a conspiracy," Adrienne muttered, shaking her head at the brown landscape, then turned her attention back to the clear, rubbery, and slimly creature at Hagrids feet.
"I don't know where you two are getting Jelly-fish and Squids from. There's only one thing that Cesguid, or whatever it is, could be, and that's a nightmare," she muttered.
"These Cesguids don't have any surprises attached to them, like those Blast-Ended Skrewts, do they?" Draco asked slowly, and Harry was pleased to hear a twinge of fear in his voice.
Hagrid looked down at one of the Cesguids, which looked like a long, clear cucumber with red, thorn covered tentacles. The one he was staring at had began to climb his legs, causing him to wince every time a thorned tentacle wrapped itself around his trousers.
"Nah, harmless as could be. Great pets for lil' ones," Hagrid chuckled.
"Yeah, if you want to kill those lil' ones and leave no evidence," Adrienne whispered to Ron. "I swear, darling, Junior was here just a minute ago, I left him right here with the Cesguid to watch him. What about that Cesguid? Looks like there's something in it's stomach? Eh, it probably just ate the footstool again."
Hermione rolled her eyes and softly hit her arm, "Pay attention."
"They eat squirrels," Hagrid said, reaching down and picking up a box next to him. From the box he withdrew a large cage of chattering squirrels. "We'll feed the Cesguids, and then you'll go to the library to work on your report. You'll look up exactly what Cesguids are, their family, their native home, and the like. It'll be due next week."
* * *
"You sure you don't want to sneak out?" Ron asked as Adrienne walked them towards the portrait hole.
"Ron, she's in enough trouble all ready!" Hermione hissed, turning around. "There'll be plenty of time to go to Hogsmeade next year, Adrienne."
Adrienne made a face and then nodded, "She's right, I have to get back on Bumble 'n Snore's most favorite list again," she replied, shaking her head in disgust.
"I'm not sure calling him Bumble 'n Snore will make him welcome you back with open arms," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "When I'm through being angry at being punished, I'll call him by his name again," Adrienne replied matter-of-factly.
"Angry at being punished? You put two girls in the hospital wing. You're lucky he didn't expel you," Hermione said shortly.
"It was an accident," Adrienne shot.
"Oh right, Adrienne, you just accidentally hit Parvati and accidentally picked up a crystal ball and then accidentally smashed it into Lavender's head," Hermione said acidly.
"It wasn't my fault!" Adrienne said, taking a step closer to her.
"Wait a second, hold on you two," Harry started, stepping between them.
Both Adrienne and Hermione pushed him out of the way.
"Then whose fault was it?" Hermione asked.
Adrienne stared at her for a second and then took a step backwards, shaking her head.
"If you three are going to go, you'd better go now. You'll wanna be back to watch the dueling tournament tonight," she said calmly. Hermione stared at her for several seconds, her face twisted in an expression that Adrienne couldn't read.
"See you around four?" Harry asked.
Adrienne nodded and watched Ron and Harry walk out of the portrait hole. Hermione didn't move, she just stood there looking at her.
"You really need to talk to someone. There are people who can help you," Hermione began, staring into Adrienne's eyes.
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with me," she replied.
"I'm not the only horrible liar around here, Adrienne," Hermione said slowly. "I'm picking up some hair clips for the dance, would you like me to get you some?"
"I don't need anything else at this point," she mumbled, shaking her head, and then she turned and headed for the staircase.
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne turned around. Hermione was standing by the portrait hole, a hand on her hip, the other fidgeting with her wand.
"What?"
Hermione looked at her for a moment and then looked away. "Never mind. See you around four," she answered, and then disappeared through the portrait hole.
* * *
"Three Butterbeers," Ron said, setting the glasses unto the table in the back of the Three Broomsticks.
"Yum," Harry sighed, reaching for his. He took a deep drink and then set the glass down.
"I don't see how Alicia got smashed off these," Ron said through a mouth of foam.
"Well, what do you expect, she had at least twelve," Hermione replied, moving her chair closer to the table.
"Did you find out anything about that Golden Serpent?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up, her eyes widening.
"Oh, I can't believe I forgot; I did, look!" She rummaged in her bag and then pulled out a green notebook. Hermione set the notebook onto the table and opened it up to a page filled with notes.
"That book you found, Harry, The Introduction of Wands or whatever it was," Hermione began, slightly absentminded in her excitement.
"What about it?" Harry asked, reaching again for his glass.
"I asked Madam Pince about it, something about it seemed off. I don't know, just something put me wrong. You know what she said? That book had been written by none other than your father, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Wormtail," Hermione continued.
"They were published?" Harry asked, setting down his glass. "No, that book was too old, it can't be."
"It was one of their jokes, Harry. Madam Pince told me all about it. It seems Professor Snape had to do a paper on the fall of the Acabadian Arts, so they made a fake source for him, and placed it in the library. According to Madam Pince, Snape used it and failed his paper. She thought she had thrown it out, but I guess she must have forgotten to do that."
"So, what are you saying?" Ron asked. "The Golden Serpent has nothing to do with those Perfect wizards?"
"Most of the stuff in that article was either made up or backwards. According to my research, the Golden Serpent is a dark talisman, an anti-Perfect creation."
"What kind of name is anti-Perfect?" Ron interrupted. "I mean, couldn't they have came up with anything better?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's just like us calling the Acabadians, Perfects, we call their counterparts anti-Perfects. It's shorter. That's just English's use of un, anti, and dis prefixes," Hermione said quickly, leaving Ron with a confused expression, having never before studied the English language.
"Wait, so what does it do?" Harry asked, staring at Hermione through the dim lighting of the bar.
"Well, it turns out, there were only several Perfects left at the time Hogwarts was founded, and Slytherin was one of them. Slytherin, knowing that soon the Perfect Art would become extinct, decided to place his powers into a talisman, knowing that one day another Perfect was bound to be born. Thus, when he died, his powers wouldn't be lost."
"Wait, why would it matter if another Perfect be born?" Harry asked, pulling Hermione's notebook towards him.
"The spell he used to transfer his power is an Acabadian spell, and the counter-spell can only be performed with Acabadian magic. Slytherin designed it so that once a Perfect touched it, the spell would begin."
"What?" snapped Ron.
Hermione signed. "Would you pay attention? Slytherin put his powers into a necklace, and once a Perfect touches the necklace, the powers are released," Hermione explained.
"But who gets them?" Harry asked, reading over Hermione's notes.
"Now that's the stinger. Get this, only Slytherin's heir can receive the powers," Hermione whispered.
Harry looked up quickly. "You mean . . ."
"Harry, don't say it!" Ron said, raising his hands to his ears.
"But that's Voldemort," Harry continued, ignoring Ron.
"What happens to the Perfect though?" Ron asked, lowering his hands once Harry had stopped talking. Hermione's face grew grim.
"But a Perfect wouldn't help You-Know-Who," Ron continued.
"But what if he doesn't know what he's doing?" Harry said. "He could do it by mistake."
"That's the idea," Hermione answered, reaching for her Butterbeer.
"Or, if he read that book your dad wrote, he could think he's getting his own powers and unintentionally help You-Know-Who," Ron said thoughtfully.
"So, who is this Perfect?" Harry asked, slowly, looking up from the notebook.
Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea."
* * *
Adrienne stood silently in the empty common room. Very slowly she walked over to a chair by the fireplace, drawing herself into a ball upon the seat cushion, staring absentmindedly into the flame. Behind her she could hear the patter of first and second year feet, running towards the portrait hole, most likely with intents of enjoying the hospitable weather.
Adrienne took a deep breath and sighed. Parvati and Lavender had been released from the hospital wing Friday night, having made a full recovery, and also having made a pledge to ignore Adrienne completely, which Adrienne was convinced they'd break in a matter of days.
"I want to go to the dance," she moaned, sitting up and drawing her legs to her chest. She leaned her chin atop her knees. "How do I get myself into these messes?"
To Adrienne's immense relief, no one responded, and she smiled. She stood up and walked over to the window, letting her eyes fall over the groups of students playing outside.
"If you cannot act as an adult, then you cannot attend adult functions," she mimicked, shaking her head disgustedly. "How come I can't just scrub the floors!"
Adrienne stomped her foot and turned around, glaring about the room.
"If I were at Salem, I'd be spending all my free time scrubbing the floors." Adrienne scowled, and then, very slowly, smiled.
* * *
"Adrienne, the Headmaster did not say that you could substitute your punishment with physical labor," Professor McGonagall said from behind her desk.
Adrienne cocked her head to the side and frowned.
"I'm not asking to substitute that for everything, just the dance. You can keep me from Hogsmeade until I'm finished here for all I care. I just have to go to this dance," she said in a pleading tone. McGonagall stood up and crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly.
"I don't know, Adrienne," she began.
"I swear, I'll help Filch clean for the rest of the year. I know perfectly well how to scrub floors and windows. I know how to dust and wax. Why, I even know how to paint without dripping on the ground - that has to be some kind of point getter," Adrienne whined. "Please, Professor?"
Professor McGonagall stared at Adrienne for several moments, her dark eyes narrowed behind her spectacles, her mouth pursed.
"Professor, I've all ready been removed from the Quidditch team for missing the game, can't I have just one more exciting event this year" Adrienne begged.
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Have you? When did this occur?" she asked quickly.
"Alicia decided; she's replaced me with Dean Thomas, told me last night she did," Adrienne said dully. "Now about this dance, please, please, please, Professor," Adrienne whined, putting her elbows onto McGonagall's desk and propping up her head.
Professor McGonagall just shook her head in reply. Adrienne sighed and then heaved herself out of her chair.
"Well, it was worth a try," she muttered. "Thanks for listening to me."
Adrienne turned and walked towards the doorway, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob.
"Professor?" she asked, turning around.
"Yes, Miss Potter?" McGonagall replied, asking herself what Adrienne could possibly want now.
"Am I passing your course?" Adrienne asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice.
McGonagall looked at her and nodded.
"Yes you are, Adrienne."
"By how much?"
McGonagall raised an eyebrow and Adrienne sighed.
"It would do good to actually transfigure something correctly before the year ends, is that what you mean?" Adrienne asked.
"Yes, Adrienne, I would recommend you achieve that goal, and soon," McGonagall replied.
"I couldn't clean your study and classroom for the rest of the year in exchange for a passing grade, could I?" Adrienne asked hopefully, a silly grin engulfing her face.
"I take it you are quite used to washing the floors?" McGonagall asked.
"Well, I have had practice."
McGonagall stood up and strode over to the door, stopping next to Adrienne. Adrienne looked up at her.
"I will speak with the Headmaster, and you, you will go practice your Transfiguration. And if you transfigure anyone into a newt, you will spend all of your free time washing floors until you leave here," McGonagall said tersely, while opening the door.
Adrienne walked by her and patted her back reassuringly.
"Don't worry, Professor, it was only you I turned into a newt. Usually I turn people into toads."
* * *
"So, Voldemort. . ."
"Ugh!" Ron moaned, lowering his head to the table.
"wants the Golden Serpent and the Perfect because then he'll be basically unstoppable?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded.
"But wouldn't the Perfect be able to stop him?" Harry continued, pushing his empty Butterbeer glass to the side.
Hermione shifted in her chair and then put her elbows on the table.
"That's what I'm not sure about. I didn't have much time to research the Acabadian Arts at all. You would assume, wouldn't you, that if someone with that kind of magical abilities exists, that You-Know-Who would be worried," Hermione said thoughtfully, "A Perfect could pose quite a threat to him, I'd imagine."
"Didn't Adrienne know something about those Perfects? We could ask her," Ron suggested.
* * *
Adrienne lay sprawled out on the common room floor, her feet raised in the air, her head propped up on one arm, her other arm twirling her wand aimlessly. Before her was a teacup.
"A teacup to a mouse?" she asked slowly, shaking her head skeptically.
"All you have to do is believe you can do it. That's all," she whispered reassuringly. Adrienne frowned and tightened her grip on her wand. Then, raising an eyebrow, shut her eyes.
"A teacup to a mouse. A teacup to a mouse. A teacup to a mouse," she muttered, picturing the floral patterned teacup in her mind. Adrienne tightened her grip on her wand and then flicked her wrist.
'Good morning, child.'
Adrienne flinched and snapped her eyes open.
"Oh dear," she muttered, her horrified eyes roving around the room. In front of her, at least twenty mice were now filing from the teacup, taking off in every direction, chattering and squeaking uncontrollably.
"Wait!" Adrienne yelled, jumping up and running toward the nearest group, her arms flailing.
"No! Nice mice! Nice mice, come on, back in the teacup. Please?" she begged, waving her arms at the mice in a desperate attempt to return them to the teacup.
'Such poor transfiguration skills, especially for a Perfect."'
"Quit it," Adrienne snapped.
She looked wildly around the room as little white mice ran under the chairs, under tables, and up the staircase.
"Now what do I do? I've given the house a rodent infestation!" she sighed. "How come Hermi isn't here? She could fix this in a snap."
Adrienne took one last look around the room and then collapsed into a chair.
'You could transfigure a cat,' the cold voice suggested. Adrienne sat up bolt in her chair.
"Crookshanks!" She launched from her seat and sped up the staircase, through the hallway, and kicked open her dormitory door.
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Adrienne whispered, staring around the room. Crookshanks lifted his huge head off Hermione's pillow and stared at Adrienne with his large yellow eyes.
"Good kitty. Nice kitty," Adrienne pleaded, and then lunged toward the bed, grabbing the cat around its large middle and hauling it toward the door.
"Umf, kitty needs to go on a diet, doesn't he?" she muttered as she staggered down the stairs. Adrienne walked towards the teacup and put Crookshanks onto the ground beside it. She put her hands on her hips and stared expectantly at him.
"Well, you're a cat, so go chase the mice," she instructed. Crookshanks looked up at her and then flopped down on the ground. "No! I didn't say lay down, I said run the mice down! Wouldn't you sleep better on a full belly?" Adrienne exclaimed. Crookshanks stared at her for a moment and then lazily shut his eyes.
"I never did like you, you - you big dumb fur cushion," Adrienne snapped.
'You could use the Imperious curse,' the voice suggested in a drawling tone that made Adrienne shiver and narrow her eyes.
"I am not using the Imperious curse, you nitwit," she spat.
'You wouldn't get in trouble for using it on a cat. Plus, who's getting hurt? Only the mice are, and then you wouldn't be in trouble for setting a group of rodents all over Gryffindor tower,' the voice reasoned, echoing slightly in her head.
Adrienne slowly sat down in a nearby chair, shaking her head.
'Just raise your wand, child, and say the words. No one gets hurt.'
Adrienne stared down at her right hand, at the mahogany wand gripped tightly in it, and then slowly, while still shaking her head, pointed it at the cat.
* * *
"It's four. I bet Adrienne's still in the common room," Ron said as he, Harry, and Hermione walked across the grounds.
"I wonder what she did all day," Harry mused aloud. Ron shrugged his shoulders and then smiled suddenly.
"I wonder if she missed me?" he breathed.
Harry and Hermione snickered but said nothing. They walked in silence for several minutes, content just to look at the grounds, wondering when spring would set it.
"What's that?" Hermione exclaimed as they neared the castle.
Harry ripped his eyes away from the lake, where Fred and George were wrestling the squid.
"What's what?" he asked, looking around.
"That, up ahead," Hermione said, pointing to a patch of white on the brown grass. The three sped up their pace.
"Oh sick!" Hermione whispered, raising a hand to her mouth.
"Ugh," Ron groaned.
"They're mice," Harry said, bending down to get a closer look, "and they're all dead." He shook his head and stood up.
"Well, I don't know about Adrienne, but Mrs. Norris sure has been busy today," Hermione whispered, horrified.
* * *
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne turned around in her chair expectantly, but her face fell as she saw who had called her. Professor McGonagall walked through the portrait hole, holding her robes around her in an imperial fashion.
"Yes, Professor?" Adrienne said, hastily, quickly reaching back and pulling her hair into a sloppy ponytail.
"I spoke to the Headmaster, and he is willing to allow you to attend the formal, provided that you stick to your agreement regarding assisting Filch," Professor McGonagall said in a bland tone, keeping her face completely impassive, thus not allowing Adrienne to decide if she was pleased or disappointed by Dumbledore's decision. Adrienne broke into a huge smile and stood up.
"Oh, thank you, Professor!" she exclaimed, running toward her Professor.
Professor McGonagall took a step backwards to steady herself as Adrienne embraced her in a very unexpected hug, wrapping her arms quite tightly around McGonagall's shoulders.
"Yes, well . . ." she said uncomfortably, stepping backwards, "you start tomorrow. Report to Mr. Filch's office at eight in the morning."
Adrienne's smile fell, but she nodded. Professor McGonagall turned around and walked towards the portrait hole, which flung open just as she reached it.
"Oops, sorry Professor," Hermione exclaimed as she quickly sidestepped her to avoid a collision.
"It's quite all right, Miss Granger," McGonagall replied, and then, smiling slightly at the two boys who subsequently entered, hurried through the portrait hole and out of sight.
"So, how was Hogsmeade?" Adrienne asked, walking towards them.
"'Bout the same as usual," Ron replied.
Adrienne raised her eyebrows. "That's real great to know, as I've not been there yet," she said edgily.
"We spent the entire time at the Three Broomsticks," Harry answered, walking over towards their usual table. "We brought you a bottle." He held out a dark colored bottle that Adrienne hadn't seen him carry in. She smiled and took it.
"Gee, thanks," she said with a nod. "So, what did you do the entire time there?"
"I was telling them what I found out about the Golden Serpent -" Hermione started, but was interrupted by the loud crash that filled the room as Adrienne dropped her bottle, splashing her robes and the floor with Butterbeer and glass.
"Now I needed that just about as much as I needed a hole in my head," she muttered, reaching for her wand to clean it up.
"WAIT!" Harry and Ron called out in unison, jumping forward and making blind reaches for her outstretched arm. Adrienne drew her arm back quickly and glared at them.
"Can't we at least once have enough faith in my magical abilities as to let me clean up my own mess?" Adrienne snapped, narrowing her eyes.
"No!" the three answered in unison. Hermione drew her wand and with a wave, the Butterbeer and glass had disappeared.
"There's no use crying over spilt milk. Ever hear that, Yank?" came a voice from behind Adrienne. Adrienne whipped around and offered Parvati and Lavender a sarcastic smile.
"Well, with you, there's tons to cry about over spilt anything," Lavender said in a cold voice.
"I'll give ya'll something to cry about . . ." Adrienne began, narrowing her eyes. Parvati laughed.
"I dare you. Come on, knock me again," she drawled, jutting out her olive face.
"Professor McGonagall told us that you'd be sent back to Salem if you got in another fight," Lavender said, "So, come on, let us have it."
Adrienne stared at them and shrugged off the hand Harry had placed on her shoulder.
"Shove off," Adrienne spat at them and then turned around to face her friends.
"What exactly did they do to you?" Hermione asked as they took their chairs.
"Stuff."
Hermione stared at her, but didn't ask anything else.
"What do you know about Perfects?" Ron asked, pulling his chair closer to Adrienne. Adrienne sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"Not much. I know they can do magic without their wands, and that's about all," she replied, beginning to fidget with her wand. Ron sighed and shot a glance at Harry, who had a disappointed look on his face.
"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I guess there's only one thing left to do," Ron started, frowning deeply, lines etched momentarily into his face, showing that he was struggling greatly with what he was about to say, "I guess we'll have to pay a visit to the library again."
"Why?" Adrienne asked, looking around at her three friends. "Why does it even matter about the Perfects?"
"Because, Adrienne, like I already explained . . . wait, you weren't there," Hermione finished. Adrienne rolled her eyes.
"What did you explain?"
"That Golden Serpent that the Ministry is looking for, it's a dark talisman. That book Harry found on it was wrong, completely and utterly wrong."
Adrienne raised her eyebrow and smiled slightly, thinking that perhaps she had been all worked up over nothing.
"Ok, so, what does it do?"
* * *
The next day Adrienne hurried out of bed, threw on her most worn school robes, wrote a hurried note to Hermione, and ran out of the tower. The halls were void of students, most sleeping in after the excitement of the duel. Hufflepuff had pulled off an unbelievable victory over Slytherin, which included one duel that lasted an hour and a half, mainly due to the fact that Slytherin was competing with a substitute who only used one curse the entire time.
"You the Miles girl?" came a croaky voice.
Adrienne jumped and looked around. She had reached Filch's office without even realizing it. In an open doorway several feet away from her stood Argus Filch, wearing old gray robes that were tinged with a greenish outline, which looked quite unmistakably like mold.
"Yup," she replied, trying hard not to wrinkle her nose.
It seemed that with being the sole caretaker of such a large castle, Filch didn't find the time, or just didn't care to make the time, to shower regularly. On the ground, Mrs. Norris was weaving around his ankles, glaring up at Adrienne with her cruel and calculating yellow eyes.
"Kids these days are nothing but trouble makers. All they do is fight, and push, and play jokes, and destroy, and fight, and … and … fight some more. Nothing but no good, disrespectful, completely unreliable, dirty, lying, trouble makers. All kids should be hung on account of plotting to be trouble makers," Filch spat.
Adrienne bit her lip, threw a horrified glance around her, and began to wonder if working for Filch would be worth just a dance.
"Well, um, perhaps hanging isn't the best way to go about it?" Adrienne suggested timidly, raising a hand to neck, imagining what it would feel like to be hung. Filch glared at her and then motioned her into his office.
"Putting girls in the hospital wing for days? That's what you're here for, you scoundrel?" Filch said as he sat down behind his cluttered and dusky oak desk.
"Um, sure, why not," Adrienne replied, looking around the room.
File cabinet upon file cabinet were lined along every wall, each reading an alphabetized lettering system, and Adrienne noticed that Fred and George seemed to have an entire wall devoted to them alone.
"So, how many floors do I have to scrub?" Adrienne asked, turning her attention back to Filch, who was now rummaging through a drawer. He looked up quickly.
"All of them," he replied and then continued his rummaging.
"All of them?" Adrienne exclaimed.
"What did you expect, dearie, a day at the park? You commit a crime, you have to be up to paying the consequences. That's the problem with kids these days, not willing to take charge for their actions, always wanting to blame it on someone else. Well let me tell you something, girl, you'll get the full work up with me, and don't think I'll lighten up on account of good behavior. The likes of you aren't capable of good behavior, it's just good acting skills, no doubt learned while you try and look innocent when you rip off an old man's hat. Don't you think for one instant I don't know it was one of your cronies who ripped off my hat!"
Filch was seething now and his wrinkled face was drawn up in the grimace of all grimaces. Adrienne pushed her chair back from the desk and bit her lip.
"I didn't take your hat, sir, and I don't know who did - "
"All you do is lie!"
"I don't even have cronies!" Adrienne yelled back.
Filch slammed his hand atop the desk. "Do not deny it!"
"I didn't even know you had a hat!" Adrienne shot back, narrowing her eyes defensively.
"And now you can wash all the windows too for lying!"
"But I'm not lying!"
"And scrub all the portraits!"
"But - "
"And no magic!"
Adrienne's eyes flashed and she jumped up.
"Fine, no magic!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"You lying scoundrel!" Filch yelled at her.
"You, you, great big meany!" Adrienne shot back. "And I hope someone steps on your cat!"
"Plotting against my cat? Why you little - " and then Filch stopped, slowly sat down, and stared at her.
"What, at a loss of insulting things to call me?" Adrienne asked.
Filch didn't say anything for a second and then reached down for a bucket and rag, which he handed her over the desk.
"In all my years at this school, I've been called worse thing than you've heard, but only one other girl has called me a great big meany and hoped someone would step on my cat," Filch said slowly, staring at Adrienne. "What did you say your surname was again?"
Adrienne's jaw dropped. "Miles," she said hesitantly, having decided that announcing her name as Potter would have caused an uproar through the school that she wasn't ready to handle yet. Filch shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
"Funny, from the way you talk and how you look, I would say your name's something else…well, you quivering baby, get to work, and mind you, Mrs. Norris will be watching you the entire time. One hint of magic and you'll hang," Filch said, narrowing his eyes again.
"One hint of magic and you'll hang!" mimicked Adrienne as she made her way down to the Entrance Hall, "that sniveling snickerdoodle."
Had it been anyone else, washing all the floors in the school would have been a daunting task, but for Adrienne, who had washed more floors in the last four years than probably all the students at Hogwarts and any other European wizarding school put together, it was a piece of cake.
Adrienne filled up her bucket with water from a nearby bathroom, added the soap and then walked to the giant oak doors. She bent down, tightened the string that was holding the towels to the bottom of her feet, and then straightened back up. She glanced around the empty hall and took a large kick at the bucket, sending water flying all over the floor.
Professor McGonagall watched from a nearby corridor as Adrienne skated over the wet floor, drying it with the towels, and signing in a rather off key tone of voice that made McGonagall wince . . .
"There was an old lady who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn't know what to do…" and then upon realizing she didn't know the rest of the song… "so she fed them to a snake."
Professor McGonagall made a mental note to never recommend Adrienne for babysitting and then returned to her study.
* * *
Adrienne was sliding down the corridor next to the library when she finally saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, rounding the corner, Hermione carrying her green notebook and a quill.
"Hey guys!" Adrienne called, skating up to them. They stopped in their tracks and watched her approach.
"Aren't you afraid you'll fall?" Hermione asked slowly, watching with apprehension. Adrienne shrugged.
"Nah! Done this loads of times, I just gotta remind myself not to go too fast on the really wet parts," she replied, just as one foot slipped out from the other and she fell right on her butt, sliding the rest of the way to her friends.
"You mean, like that?" Ron asked sardonically. Adrienne glared up at him.
"We're going to the library, Adri, you want to come?" Harry asked hastily, reaching down to give her a hand up.
"What you looking for?" Adrienne asked, eyeing Hermione's notebook.
"For stuff about those Perfects," Ron answered. "You know, your entire backside is soaked."
Adrienne looked behind her and then shrugged.
"Oh well. What is with you guys and this Perfect business?" Adrienne asked shortly; what Hermione had told her about the Golden Serpent hadn't reassured her one bit. "You could stay and keep me company."
Hermione looked behind her at the flooded corridor.
"How much do you have left to do?" she asked.
Adrienne looked around. "Oh, only 'bout seven floors," she replied, counting on her fingers.
"Seven floors!" Harry exclaimed. "No really, they're not making you clean all the floors?"
"Yup, and the windows, and the portraits," Adrienne mumbled.
"Well, you did get in a fight," Hermione reasoned, but stopped upon seeing Adrienne's annoyed face.
"I'm quite aware of that, Hermi, must you remind me every single day?" she shot.
Hermione didn't reply, but it looked like she was biting her lip to keep from saying anything.
"Well, let's get this dumb library thing over before I change my mind," Ron sighed.
"But the floor isn't dry," Hermione began, looking again down the wet corridor.
"No problem, I'll clean it again, just walk on over. But take care not to slip, you'll bruise," said Adrienne, wearing a serious expression.
* * *
"There's only five books on Perfects in this whole library?" Ron asked gleefully, reaching for one of the books Hermione had set on the table.
"Only five," she confirmed, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She and Harry both reached for a book.
"What about this?" Ron said, looking up and beginning to read, "Perfects had great difficulty using the newly developed wands."
"Hmm," she replied, uninterested, not taking her attention away from the large, leather bound book before her.
Ron shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Harry. "Guess that wasn't what she was looking for," he whispered.
They sat in silence, scanning the large books before them, squinting in the bright sunlight that was pouring through a nearby open window.
"Wait, listen to this," said Hermione, abruptly, her eyes lighting up. "Because the magical powers of a Perfect were theoretically limitless, the thirst for omnipotence was often too much for many. The majority of those who practices the Acabado Art used it for Dark practices. Those who could resist the temptation lived their lives only using magic sparingly and never using any spells, such as those to raise the dead or prevent death, which required the sacrifice of another. Those who were not strong enough to do this, but refused to resort to Dark practices, often lost their sanity. Modern day scholars commonly refer to this mechanism as the Price of Perfection. It is credited with instigating the eventual downfall of the Acabadian Arts.
"Many of those who turned to the Dark, today referred to as anti-Perfects, were defeated several years prior to the foundation of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first school of modern magic.
"With the eventual defeat of those on the Dark, the remaining Perfects, those both sane and not, slowly died away. It is believed that several were born with Perfect powers at the time that Hogwarts was being created, but as the new form of magic was seen to be not only safer, but more limited, those children were instead instructed at Hogwarts."
Harry frowned. "Perfects weren't the greatest people in the world, were they?" Harry asked.
"These scholars don't really speak too highly of them either. Seems they think that the concept of theoretically all-powerful magic is a dangerous idea," Hermione added, flipping through more pages.
"And they should think that!" Ron interrupted. "Think if some were born today? They wouldn't really have any codes or laws to follow to regulate their magic; they could do what ever they wanted, couldn't they?" Ron asked hotly.
"If they were weak or really didn't believe in right or wrong, I suppose so," she said with a frown, telling herself that perhaps she'd have to order some books on the subject from Flourish and Blotts.
* * *
Had it not been for Professor Snape, Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins, and Lavender and Parvati taking great pains to walk through Adrienne's drying floors, she would have been done in record time. This, however, did not faze Adrienne in the least.
"There, that's that, and I'm done!" she sighed Thursday night, looking proudly at the last window she had washed, and then turning her head as voices wafted into the corridor.
"I cannot believe the dance is tomorrow. Do you know what I foresaw only last night?"
"Oh, do tell me, for I had a vision also, perhaps they are of the same substance?"
Adrienne smiled evilly and slowly followed the voices down the corridor.
"It was of the formal," came Lavender's voice as Adrienne drew nearer.
"Yes? And were you wearing the purple dress?" Parvati asked excitedly.
"Oh, you saw that too? The fates must be telling me that I'll be graced in lavender tomorrow," Lavender squealed.
"As beautiful as your name!"
"Oh what kind of stupid prediction is that? That's the only color dress you have, Lavender Smavender," Adrienne muttered, rolling her eyes. "Anyone who's seen your wardrobe could have predicted that one."
Adrienne reached the stairwell and looked over the railing. Two floors below, Lavender and Parvati were standing on an island, talking animatedly in very loud voices, no doubt to make sure everyone in hearing distance heard about their "predictions." Adrienne stood there for a second, wearing a calculating look, staring down at them, and then, without hesitation, heaved her dirty bucket onto the ledge and tipped it. Their screams filled the air as murky and soapy water rained down upon them. Adrienne ran down the stairs, skidding to a halt feet away from them.
"Thought you needed a good washing, slimeballs," she spat, and then, before they could think of anything to say, Adrienne gave them the thumbs up and sashayed away, yelling behind her, "The drowned rat look works great with your eyes!"
* * *
"Where is everyone?" Adrienne asked as she pushed her way into the dormitory Friday afternoon. Hermione looked up from her book.
"One of Parvati and Lavender's seventh year friends is letting them prepare in her dormitory," Hermione said distractedly.
"Let us sing the praises of that dear, blessed girl!" Adrienne exclaimed, skipping over to her bed.
Hermione shook her head and put down her book. Adrienne stopped next to her cabinet and pulled it open.
"I suppose it's time to get ready," Hermione sighed, heaving herself off her bed. "What are you doing with your makeup and hair?"
Adrienne stopped mid-reach for her gown and flew around. She hadn't thought of that.
"I'm not doing anything," she replied quickly, still refusing to look in a mirror. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"When over holiday did you decide to stop taking any notice about your appearance. I mean, no make-up, no hairdos, not that that's bad, but you did use to care at least a bit about them. Even Pansy Parkinson takes more care of her appearance than you do lately, and come on, Adrienne, that's really saying something," Hermione said, looking at her strangely.
Adrienne stiffened. "I just don't want to be that superficial, that's all," she lied.
Hermione shook her head and walked over to her friend. "Then I'll do it for you," she suggested. Adrienne flew around, a horrified look on her face.
"I am not letting you touch my hair, Miss I-Work-For-Helga's-International-House-Of-Pain! I'll be bald by the time you're done with me!" Adrienne exclaimed, raising her hands and grabbing her hair in a protectionistic attitude.
* * *
"Really now, this is getting ridiculous," Ron moaned as he and Harry trudged up the spiral staircase. "The dance started more than fifteen minutes ago!"
"Well, at least being late with Hermione and Adrienne is better than going with Parvati and Padma and being on time," Harry suggested.
Ron stormed down the girls' corridor, Harry following with a rather amused expression. Both boys had acquired tuxes through the help of Sirius over the winter holiday, and Harry had to admit that they were a lot more dignifying to wear than his bottle-green dress robes, which made him feel like he was wearing a dress, even more so than his normal robes.
"Those girls," Ron muttered. "Are you two almost done? The dance is probably already over by now!"
"Don't feel rushed or anything!" Harry called through the door, smirking at Ron, who was pounding on it with is fists.
"Keep your pants on! Geez!" The door swung open and Adrienne gave Ron a shove on the shoulder. "It's just a dance!"
Ron staggered backwards and then, upon regaining his balance, gapped wide-eyed at her. Adrienne stood in the doorway, her black hair pulled up onto the top of her head in a crown of ringlets. Around her neck lay a tight choker made entirely out of crystal, thanks solely to Hermione's wonderful transfiguration skills. Upon her shoulders were two thin blue straps that connected at her collarbone with butterfly clasps to the rest of her dress. From the high neckline all the way down to her hips, sparkling blue material fit like a second skin, and then upon meeting her hips, flowed down around her in a princess style, stopping right above her heels.
"Wow," Ron muttered breathlessly, his jaw still hanging open.
"Ya like?" Adrienne said timidly, smiling hopefully at him. Ron nodded, a huge smile breaking over his face.
"You're beautiful!" Harry said, smiling at her. "Really, really gorgeous."
"Thanks!" Adrienne said, raising her eyebrows and shoulders in excitement. "Hermi! Come on!" Adrienne turned on her heel and walked back into the dormitory, leaving Ron and Harry staring after her.
"Wow, that back makes up for the high neck, doesn't it?" Ron said slowly.
"What do you mean back?" Harry asked slowly, "There's barely any back. I think I agree with that Professor of hers - "
"If you guys think I look pretty, wait until you see, Hermi!" Adrienne called through the dormitory, pulling Hermione out of a corner.
Hermione wore a dark plum dress that had a circle neckline, fitting right at her collarbones also, and flowed beautifully all the way down to her ankles. Small plum rhinestones adorned the torso, gathering in their frequency until they formed the entire last two inches of her skirt. Her hair was pulled back with a sparkling headband and flowed in gentle curls down her shoulders.
"Wow again," Ron said, blinking several times.
Harry just stood there until Adrienne cleared her throat, rather loudly, and sent him a piercing stare. Only then did Harry stride forward and kiss Hermione's cheek.
"Stunning," he whispered, and then turned to Ron. "How do you suppose we landed with the best looking girls in the school?"
"Your dumb luck," Adrienne said with a laugh, and then grabbed Ron by the arm and led him through the doorway.
When they arrived at the head of the marble staircase, Harry looked in wonder out over the balcony. Below him, multitudes of students dressed in exquisite outfits were meandering from the open doors leading to the Great Hall. Through the doors at the end of the room before him, Harry could make out the glow radiating from the Great Hall, and quite excitedly, pulled Hermione after him as he made his way down the staircase. Ron and Adrienne followed them, Adrienne clinging tightly onto Ron's arm in a desperate attempt to not tumble down the stairs.
"This is going to be wonderful!" Adrienne sighed as she and Ron reached the foot of the staircase. Ron nodded his head fervently.
"Come on, they're getting ahead of us!" Adrienne urged, trying to catch up to Harry and Hermione.
The long House tables in the Great Hall had been removed, and unlike last year, there were few circular tables. These were pushed back into the corners and adorned with pale pink tablecloths and crystal vases that held small, light purple water-proof flames. Above the dance floor, suspended in mid-air were glorious diamond chandeliers that caused the glow from the purple flames to sparkle along the walls and the dancers.
"Ugh!" Adrienne moaned as she and Ron entered the Hall. Ron stopped in his tracks and turned.
"What's the matter?" he asked urgently, afraid he had already done something wrong.
"The Weird Sisters, I HATE the Weird Sisters. They're just … they're just …" Adrienne muttered, looking for the right word.
"Weird?" Ron suggested. Adrienne looked up at him and grinned.
"Exactly."
Ron looked around the room, searching for the band. His eyes fell upon the dance floor, where the students had just recently flocked to as a slow dance had began. Professor McGonagall, in a long, black dress, with a shimmering shawl over her shoulders was waltzing, not in time to the music at all, with Professor Dumbledore, who was wearing a bright turquoise suit. Ron chuckled and moved on. On the other side of the floor, Draco Malfoy was dancing with Pansy Parkinson, who, in the candlelight looked more like a pug than ever.
"I think he's blind," Adrienne whispered, standing on her tiptoes to reach Ron's ear. He turned and looked at her, a confused smile on his freckly face.
"Who?" he asked.
"Draco! I mean, Pansy is so ugly. He either has to be blind, or perhaps somewhere deep down he's really sweet and understanding and realizes that true beauty fades but the inner beauty only blossoms," Adrienne said with a tinge of sarcasm that made Ron laugh.
"I'll take blind for four hundred, please," Ron replied.
*
"Harry?" Hermione said wearily as they made their way along the edge of the dance floor.
"Hmm?"
The two stopped next to an empty table. Hermione turned and pointed.
"There's Adrienne and Ron," she said, indicating between two dancing couples she didn't know. Harry leaned slightly closer to her to see where she was pointing. He straightened back up and nodded.
"Yup," he replied, looking down at her with a straight face.
"So, don't you want to go over with them?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to see over Lavender and Dean, who had just blocked her view. Harry shook his head, and reached for her hand.
"Not particularly. Personally? I want to dance," he said, and then led her, weaving through the multitudes of people, to the center of the dance floor.
*
"I don't see them," Adrienne said, standing on her tiptoes to see through the crowd, "Wait, I'll stand on the chair, then I can see."
She moved toward a nearby, unoccupied chair, but Ron caught her around the waist and pulled her back, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"The last thing you need to do tonight is fall off a chair," he whispered. Adrienne grinned, not the least bit offended. She rested her hands on his.
"Ok, now that we've established the last thing on my to-do list for tonight, what's my first?" she asked slowly, grinning wider.
"I say, we dance," Ron said, turning and facing her toward the dance floor. Adrienne smiled.
"And no protesting either, because I checked, it's not the Weird Sisters; Fred and George are in charge of music," Ron said, and then frowned, "Merlin, this could be interesting."
*
The dance was winding toward an end, and Adrienne and Ron, dancing in an attempt to copy Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore's waltzing, managed to dance right into another couple.
"Balance problems, Adrienne?" Harry asked as she apologized for almost knocking him and Hermione over. Adrienne glared at him.
"No," she shot.
"There isn't much left, is there?" Ron asked, looking around disappointedly as people began to slowly file off the floor in exhaustion.
"It's over at midnight," Hermione said, wishing she had worn a watch.
"Well then, what are we standing around for?" Adrienne exclaimed, reaching for Ron, "We should be dancing all the way until the clock strikes twelve!" And with that she led Ron away.
*
As Fred announced the last dance of the evening, Adrienne raised her arms and wrapped them around Ron's neck, and gazed up at him, smiling radiantly, listening to the beautiful lyrics playing in her ear.
Ron wrapped his arms around her back and then slowly let them slide down until they rested on her hips. Completely content, Adrienne moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes, thinking how wonderful the night had been: No voice, no torments, no reminders that somehow in the past two months, someone she had never met had made her lose a match, miss a Quidditch game, knock out Parvati and Lavender, and use the Imperious Curse on Crookshanks. Adrienne smiled and sighed.
'Enjoying the dance?'
Adrienne tensed and snapped her eyes open. Ron jumped back, startled, looking at her with a worried expression.
"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching for her shoulder. Adrienne nodded, her heart rising in her throat.
"I'm fine," she whispered, stepping toward him. Ron wrapped his arms back around her and Adrienne put her head back on his shoulder.
'Please go away,' she thought, squeezing her eyes shut in hope.
'What did I tell you?" Adrienne tightened her grip on Ron's shoulders, as if the closer she got to him, the more distance she could put between herself and the voice.
'That's quite a pretty song, is it not? And so true,' the voice laughed, causing Adrienne to wince in pain. 'You think that you can hide from me? You think you can just wish me away? You can't. You can't escape. You can't hide. I've already won.'
'Can you see your brother? I bet you can. Look at him.'
'No,' Adrienne thought, her eyes clamped shut, 'I won't!'
'Look at him,' the voice ordered, the shrill mocking tone dropping to a growl.
Adrienne reluctantly, although her mind was yelling at her not to, opened her eyes, and turned her head ever so slightly.
'See him? He's dancing with that Mudblood, isn't he?'
Adrienne's eyes began to tear and she tightened her grip even more on Ron.
'Well, answer me, child!'
"Yes," Adrienne whispered.
"What did you say, Adrienne?" Ron said, turning his head slightly to look at her.
"Nothing," Adrienne replied in a quiet voice.
'This will be the last time he dances with her, won't it?'
Adrienne bit her lip.
'I won't help you,' she thought, her heart tightening in her chest. The voice laughed.
'You don't have a choice. You really are stupid, aren't you? You haven't realized it, or are you trying to believe it isn't happening? You can't tell me no, can you? Look at all I've made you do? Did you ever think you'd stoop low enough to curse a cat? Especially that of your best friend?'
'I won't help you,' Adrienne repeated, her mind flashing before you, her heart clenching.
He was right; she hadn't been able to stop herself from doing any of her things. She never wanted to lose the match. She had contemplated it, yes, but she'd never actually do it. Yet, she lost, and to Cho! CHO! Adrienne slammed her eyes shut. She hadn't fallen asleep and missed the Quidditch game on purpose, and hadn't she asked Lavender and Parvati to leave? And Crookshanks, he could have just caught those damned mice in the first place.
'You can't escape me, and you will help me.'
'What if I don't?' Adrienne asked, taking deep breaths. The voice laughed, and Ron could feel Adrienne flinch again.
'If, for some reason, Perfect, you prove to be stronger than you really are, then I'll just let it slip why the Death Eaters came to the Gallows, why they wanted you. You do realize - or haven't you studied Perfects yet - there were very few Perfects who didn't end up practicing Dark Magic. The temptation to be omnipotent, it's too much. I bet the majority of people will be afraid of you, won't they? Especially as all those people at the Gallows died because of you. Think of your professors … think of that Mondel guy, after all the help he gave you, he died because of you. What kind of repayment is that, murderer?'
"I didn't kill anyone," Adrienne whispered.
Ron looked down at her quickly, his eyes narrowed in a confused expression.
"Adrienne?" he said, bending his head down a little. Adrienne ignored him.
'They died because of you though, making you a murderer, and even so you will be once you give me your brother. Think of the headlines: Missing Potter Child Delivers her Brother to Voldemort.'
Adrienne's eyes snapped open.
'Don't fight me, child. Think of how powerful I can make you. I'm asking you for your help.'
Adrienne shook her head angrily, her eyes narrowing, and stepped back from Ron. Next to her, Hermione and Harry stopped dancing, too occupied with staring at her.
"Adrienne?" Harry asked, stepping away from Hermione. Ron stepped closer to her, but Adrienne didn't notice.
'I won't,' she thought, closing her eyes, trying extremely hard to contain the hatred that was building in her gut.
'You'll always be alone,' the voice echoed through her head, 'Join me, Adrienne. When will you ever fit in here? You can't do their magic. You can't compete with your brother's fame. Join me.'
Adrienne blinked and opened her eyes, ahead of her stood Ron and Harry.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, reaching for her. Adrienne sidestepped his hand, drawing her skirt up around her.
"I don' t feel well, excuse me," she whispered, and then ran from the room, leaving her best friend, her boyfriend, and her brother staring after her.
* * *
Voldemort, slightly winded from keeping the curse going for so long, set down his wand and the wand Adrienne had dropped in the forest outside of the Gallows. He leaned back in his chair and stared triumphantly around his dark chamber.
"Were you successful, master?" Lucius asked, stepping out of the shadows with Wormtail. Voldemort sneered.
"Of course I was. She is so insecure already, it makes her much easier to manipulate," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes flashing hungrily.
"When will it be time, my Lord?" Wormtail asked, approaching cautiously.
"Soon, Wormtail, soon. She can't fight me: She's too dumb to, too weak. She's at Hogwarts, with Harry, and anytime I want her to be, she's under my control. She can't tell them anything: I've taken care of that. This time, I won't fail," Voldemort hissed, reaching for the box on the nearby table. He slowly opened it and withdrew the Golden Serpent, watching it shimmer in the torchlight.
"Admirable Slytherin?" he asked into the silent chamber, "you knew all along that the Dark Arts would regain their strength. But did you know it would be Gryffindor's own descendant who would destroy everything he and those other two fools worked so hard to build?" Voldemort's laughter echoed through the chamber and he slowly put the serpent back in its box.
"My darling, Adrienne," Voldemort whispered, "it's almost time."
* * *
The corridors were filled with the suppressed chatter of the exhausted students, each standing rather close to the one that drew their affection, the girls flirtatiously playing with their hair, batting their eyelashes with the rapidity of hummingbird wings, while the boys stood, often leaning against a wall, staring contentedly. Not one person of this scene noticed the girl walk past them. They didn't notice the purpose in her stride, nor did they notice the look of malignant hatred splashed across her tear-stained face. They didn't comprehend the fire in her eye, the fire that had been missing for so long; and now, in the state of utter confusion and vicious vengeance that was coursing through her body, Adrienne didn't notice those around her either. She didn't hear their sing-song, coy voices. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her fists clenched, her heeled shoes being ground into the floor with every stomping stride she took.
The portrait-laden corridors flew by her in a mix of color and overwhelming confusion. The tapestries that served as entrances into hidden staircases didn't draw her attention; she just walked right through them, letting them slide up her face and across her crowned hair, tossing the curls Hermione had spent so long trying to tame into a tangle of snarled, black hair. The stairs were ahead of her, their steps beckoning to her with a urgency that made her hurry, hustling up them, her heels clicking, her dress drew up around her to facilitate her quick and necessary footsteps. She entered a dead-end corridor, yet she didn't turn, nor did she slow down. As the end approached and the portrait of the Fat Lady came into view, Adrienne opened her mouth.
"Inverness," she said in an emotionless tone of voice, and then walked through the portrait hole into the semi-empty common room. Several students looked up from their dreamy reveries of the dance, staring at Adrienne in a surprised way. Adrienne paid no attention to their stares, and slowly, as she began her ascent up the spiral staircase, the quiet chatter resumed as all realerted their attention to more pressing matters, such as whom had danced with whom.
She walked with the same purpose up the spiral staircase and then strode through the hallway, her feet no longer clicking her progress, but instead her stomps were muffled by the rich, purple carpeting. The doorway on the right, labeled with a platinum-plated 5, was her goal, and with quick hands she grabbed the doorknob and let go, letting the door swing open with the masked force from the small push she had given it. All four beds were but mere shadows in the moonlight, the shapes of the hangings casting odd outlines onto the dim walls. Adrienne shut the door behind her and walked down the middle of the row between the beds, her eyes staring out the window ahead of her. Her feet turned in direction, leading her to the left. The rest of her body followed, her eyes now lowered to the floor. Finally, her outstretched arms hit it, and her fingers ran over the smooth and cool surface. Then, with great reluctance, she raised her head.
In the mirror her reflection stood. Adrienne stared at it, her eyes starting at the hem of her gown, then traveling upwards, along the dress' line until she arrived at the face she hadn't looked into since the day in the hospital wing. Her bright green eyes stared back at her, and she smiled slightly at the sight of her ragged hair. Adrienne didn't move, didn't speak. She just stared into the mirror, not at anything in particular, just stared. Finally, when she didn't know what else to look at, she raised her right hand, fingers spread, and looked at the reflection of her palm.
"A symbol of strength?" she whispered into the darkness. Her mind returned to the scene that had taken place ten minutes earlier. She had left the dance, unable to stand it anymore, unable to stand the fact that half the time she was definitely not the one in control of her own actions. Adrienne raised her eyes and stared back into the reflected green orbs, wondering, her patience gone. The evening had been so perfect, so wonderful. She had enjoyed herself so much, enjoyed Ron so much, enjoyed everything so much. Adrienne narrowed her eyes.
"A symbol of strength?" she repeated, staring intently into her own eyes, "we'll see."