Molly's stomach plummeted. Oh my God, she thought desperately, how could I have been so stupid? She couldn't understand what she had been thinking. She was at Hogwarts. A talking bird wasn't normal anyway, but here! She closed her eyes, hiding from her stupidity. Animagi. Was all she could think. Some person that had the power to change into a dove. But who? She thought, biting her lip. She opened her eyes and cringed. Who are you? She asked, a bit of a tremor in her voice. Oh please, she thought, fear spreading throughout her limbs, please don't let it be someone I know... or someone I'll see. She bit down harder on her lip, hoping against hope that she hadn't spilled her life story to someone who would make her regret it.
The bird fluttered softly to the ground. It didn't say another word, but Molly knew what was coming. It was going to transform. Her hands shook as she waited. Very slowly, as if in slow motion, the bird began to expand. It's claws changed to feet, and it's wings molted and molded into the shape of arms. The bright white crown feathers faded and to a honey color, and the beady black eyes widened into sapphires.
Molly swallowed hard. She had never seen the woman before her in her life, but that didn't mean anything. She took a deep breath, fear still swirling in her stomach. Who are you? she repeated, and this time the woman answered.
Don't worry, Molly. I'm not going to tell anyone about anything you said to me today. Molly released the breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. She waited nervously for the woman to answer her question. My same is Honest Borchardt. I am the head of the Department of Magical Lore and Ancient Artifacts for the Ministry of Magic. The tension finally slipped out of Molly's muscles. It didn't matter what she knew, she couldn't be here for very long, and there was no one for her to tell. Molly drew her eyebrows back together for a moment, a question popping into her brain, along with some uncertainty again,
Why are you here? Honest smiled knowingly,
Professor Grolier has taken ill. I've just come to help out for a few weeks while he recovers.
Professor Grolier? She asked, puzzled. I've never heard of him. Honest smiled again,
I'm not surprised. You're only a first year, and Willard teaches the Mythology class, which is only offered to sixth and seventh years.
Molly replied happily, no wonder. How long are you going to be here again?
Three weeks is the current appointment, she answered with an air of carelessness, but it could change. Old Grolier is getting on in his years. She laughed, Hence the name. Molly smiled politely.
Well. I'd better get to class. It's my first ever Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and I really had better not miss it. She stood up, brushing the grass off of her clothes, thanks for talking to me. It really helped. A sudden look of worry passed over the woman's face,
Are you alright, then? Molly nodded, I'd love to talk to you again. She stopped for a moment, as if for Molly to reply but then interrupted the silence herself, in fact, I would really be interested in seeing the Mirror you talked about. I am Head of the Ancient Artifacts and such. Maybe we could figure it out together. Molly bit her lip, and Honest spoke again, I wouldn't take it away or anything, but you never know, there could be something there worth seeing. It sounds very much like an Elven ring I found once. That one turned out to give you three wishes once you found out the words to make it wake. Molly considered,
she said. She knew that she could really use some help figuring out that mirror, and Honest seemed like a really nice person, even if she was an adult. In fact, she seemed almost desperate, like she needed a friend very badly. Want to meet me here this time tomorrow? Honest smiled again,
she replied, and Molly trotted back up to the castle, in a much happier mood than when she'd come out.

Molly pulled her schedule out of her pocket as she hurried into the Great Hall. A few students were still rushing toward their classes and Molly joined them, turning quickly to what her schedule told her was the Defense Against the dark Arts Hall. She pulled open the door and had to blink her eyes twice, she was staring into pitch black. There was whispering coming from inside,
What's going on? She asked from the doorway, her eyes still not adjusted to the dark.
No one's here, Came a boys voice that Molly didn't recognize, I mean, the Professor. . . Keebles, I think: he's new this year. . . but he isn't here.
Why don't you turn on a light? Molly asked a little confusedly as she took hesitating steps into the room.
We tried, the voice answered, but we don't know how. In my house we have Glowing Pixie of Britain service, and all you have to do is clap and they light up.
Mine has a lumonuous spell and you just have to walk into the room for it to brighten, came a rather squeaky girl's voice.
Mine's got a lumonuous spell, too, but you just say Alight' and the lights come on. It was the same in Molly's, and several other peoples', she judged from their mumbled assents.
Well, have you tried that stuff? She asked making her way blindly to a desk.
Only about eight times, responded the first boy's voice.
Molly said, thoroughly confused now. A sudden idea hit her and she shook her head at their stupidity, Well how about we just open the curtains?
A few people snorted and two said, rather dumbly.

Molly walked to the tall windows fairly surely, as she could now see the pale outlines of objects in the dark, and yanked open the curtains. Blinding sunlight flooded the room and a small, speedy, solid object came hurtling at Molly.



A tiny man was zooming around the room, arms out like a muggle plane. Molly's jaw dropped. The other students looked just as dumbfounded.
He screamed as he circled the room. Molly blinked hard, this couldn't possibly be real. She pinched her arm. It hurt. The little man continued to do laps. BAAAAAAAAAAAAD! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! AWAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Are you. . . er... okay? Molly asked, each of her words timed as he passed her.
WRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNG! Wrong! On his second wrong,' the man stopped, and, breathing heavily, surveyed the room. He couldn't have been more than five feet tall and he had a very shiny bald head and a very wrinkled face ending in a gray beard that stretched down his chin to an unknown length, as it was wrapped at least three times around his waist like an uncanny sort of belt. Incorrect. Failed the test. Lots of work to do, he rasped. The voice of the boy that Molly had spoken to in the dark cracked into a fit of coughing behind her,
You're the professor?He asked once he was under control. The man turned to the boy, as if seeing a student for the first time.
Hm? Yes. Professor. Keebles. He did a little bow and turned to a chalk board behind him. Taking up his wand, he began to draw loopy letters.
A girl's voice spoke up from the back, Molly turned along with Keebles and saw a small freckled girl with bright blue eyes, Sir? Doesn't Professor Alcott teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? Keebles blinked and spoke,
Hm? Alcott? No. No, no. Only thirds and up now. Me for firsts and seconds. Lots of work to do with them. Wrong, wrong, bad, wrong. . . He faced his board once more.
Can I ask what's wrong, sir? Molly asked, becoming a little bit distressed, she couldn't quite understand what they'd done so wrong.
Hm? Oh. Test. . . lights off. Was a test. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
What should we have done, professor? If you don't mind. Molly was speaking through her teeth. For some reason, the thought of having been tested unknowingly made her very angry.
Keebles smiled, his furry eyebrows seeming to reach the top of his shiny head, At last, a woooorrrthy question. I will, then, act as a worthy teacher! The strange demeanor of Keebles suddenly slipped away, and a dominance projected from him, despite his size. When dealing with the Dark Arts, one must realize that you can never tell what is a dark object, or who is a dark person. Therefore, you must always, always, enter into the unknown suspiciously. While the dark is often good and the light has been known evil, you still should approach both with extreme caution. I am sorry to say that each of you handled the dark-room situation today very poorly. I thought there was some hope when Miss. . . ah. . . Camden, is it? He said, glancing at his roll sheet, stayed outside the door. She, however, also fell into our trap. Each student was now paying rapt attention.
What should we have done? Asked a small voice from the back of the room.
Our original question, I believe, Miss. . . Kent. The answer is a simple spell that can help you in any suspicious or unknown situation. It is. . . lumos! The tip Keebles' wand light up with a small but bright light. Miss Kent gasped. Professor Keebles smiled, that is not all. To achieve complete caution, a much more complex spell is needed. Which. . . The air in the room hung with anticipation, is our homework project for this week. Each student groaned. Research and find the spell that will make the lumos charm even more effective. We will learn how to perform it next class period. Good day.

The little man, who had somehow gained all of their respect with his short dialogue, retreated back into the curtain he had come from. Molly shook her head. He was definitely a little weird. She looked down at her watch, they still had twenty minutes left in class. Now that the lights were on and the room was quiet again, Molly was painfully aware of how few Ravenclaws were between her and Brook and Darcy, who were now giggling loudly. Molly saw Brook look at her through the corner of her eye, and then the two burst out laughing again. Molly felt her face redden and the back of her eyes heat up with tears. She focused all of her energy on pulling out her Defense Against the Dark Arts and flipping to the index. Lumos, she tried to make herself think, but her mind kept wandering back to, Jerks, without her realizing it.
Someone sat down in the vacant desk beside Molly. She knew it was either Brook or Darcy. Come to make fun of her, she was sure. Without lifting her eyes from her parchment, she gritted her teeth,
Please just go away, she said, in what was hopefully an aloof sort of voice, I heard what you said and I don't need you anyway. Don't worry, you're not my friend. She managed to get through without her voice cracking, but continued to stare stonily at her parchment.
a low voice said next to her. I don't know what I said, but. . . sorry. Molly looked up, her eyebrows shooting to the top of her head. Arthur Weasley was lifting himself out of the chair.
Oh. . . oh, no sorry, Molly whispered anxiously, sit down, please. I thought you were. . . She trailed off as the girls' across the room exploded with giggles again.

Arthur looked relieved, but he quickly drew his eyebrows back together as Molly's face fell.
What's wrong? He asked, his eyes flitting over to Brook and Darcy. Why aren't you over there with them? Why were you crying this morning? Molly laughed in spite of herself,
Slow down, Sherlock. Do you really want to know? Arthur didn't smile, he simply nodded. Molly sighed, Alright. . . she said, making sure to keep her voice low, This morning. . . She plunged into the tail for the second time that day, leaving out only the parts about the mirror.
When she finished, Arthur was frowning. What's wrong? Molly asked apprehensively.
Something about that's not right, he said, furrowing his brow. Molly bit her lip, hoping he didn't mean the mirror,
What do you mean? She asked, her voice kept carefully calm.
What did you ever do to them? Why should they hate you? Molly frowned, suddenly on the virge of tears again.
They shouldn't. . . I--- Her voice broke and her eyes flooded, I. . . She tried to go on. The bell rang. Molly looked at Arthur, who had raised a hand to comfort her, and dashed out of the room.

Molly sat up in bed three hours later. She hadn't been able to stop crying in the bathroom, so she'd stumbled her way upstairs as the rest of the students traveled to their classes. She couldn't bear to see Amos, knowing that he was laughing at her inside. She couldn't believe she'd thought she was friends with any of them. She didn't understand how she'd been so dense. She had to pull herself together.
The bell would be sounding any minute, she knew, and Brook, Darcy, Allyson, and Jenica would be making their vicious ways up to the dormitory. . . and find her, unless she moved fast. She swiped a careless hand across her damp cheeks and dragged herself to the bathroom.
Molly stared hard at her reflection. What is wrong with me? She thought miserably, Why do I care so much? Immediately, she knew that that was a stupid thought. She cared because she'd always cared. She hated it when someone didn't like her, or when she couldn't do something perfectly. An echo of the past sprang out of her memory. Once, in the third grade, when she'd brought the class cupcakes for her birthday, a girl, not even a friend of Molly's, wouldn't eat the cupcake because she didn't like chocolate. Molly had burst into tears. She did so once more, even as her mother's words from that time long ago spoke inside her head,
Alice Camden had spoken calmly, you just can't make everyone happy. It's impossible. Just do the best you can, sweetie, that's all that matters. She had! She had done her best to be nice and perfect and everything she was supposed to be! She'd even been sweet to Lucius Malfoy as he'd all but spat in her face. And it didn't matter. It's this stupid place! She screamed, letting an anger she had never known before flow through her, It's just this stupid place. . . Molly crumpled to the floor in silent, aching sobs.
The door creaked outside. She froze. Isn't Amos the cutest? It was Darcy, And can you believe today's lesson? Amazing. There were three distinct giggles. Molly held her breath. She was trapped. If they saw her now, cheeks blotchy, eyes red, and huddled in the corner like some terrified animal, she knew they'd never let her live it down.
Footsteps approached the bathroom door. The knob twitched slightly, under someone's hand. Molly dropped her head, eyes leaking, ashamed. The door didn't open. Let's go to dinner, Allyson's voice carried into the bathroom. Molly waited.
This early? Brook questioned.
Yea, I mean we didn't have lunch. Aren't you hungry? There almost seemed to be a trace of worry in her tone, but Brook made a noise of quiet ascent. Molly heard them rustle out the doorway.
Molly waited till they were out of earshot to move. I wonder why they weren't at lunch, she said to herself, brushing chestnut wisps out of her eyes. Unfortunately, the other girls were just far enough away that Molly could no longer hear them either, so she didn't hear Brook, stop for a moment and say,
And where has Molly gotten off to? I haven't seen her all day.

Molly slipped off her enormous black robe and crept to her bed. It was late; late enough for it to be incredibly silent and for all of her roommates to be fast asleep. She herself had been asleep until jolt awake by a dream about daggers and snakes fifteen minutes ago. Only she had been asleep under the willow tree outside. She'd gone there hoping that Honest would come, even though she'd known she wouldn't; she'd just wanted someone to talk to who would understand her problems. The only thing she'd found, however, was a new way to get cramps in her neck and that grounds security wasn't very tight at night.

The next morning Molly went early to breakfast again and skipped charms. She sat out in the willow tree, which was quickly becoming her favorite place in the school, carefully concealed in emerald green robes and engrossing herself in The Shadow of Dungeon Lake. While other students chatted happily at lunch, Molly huddled in her robe and munched on some provisions that she'd shoved in her pockets that morning. While they sat through potions, she napped restlessly, her head against the pale bark of the tree trunk. And while they clambered back up to their respective towers, Molly stared at the picture of Marticello grinning charmingly at her, and remembered what nice people were like.
It was dark again by the time Molly snuck into her dormitory, and her roommates were deep in their dreams once more. I wonder if anyone even missed me, she thought listlessly, unaware that she was tumbling into a hopeless state of depression.

A cool breeze brushed across Molly's face. Her eyes flitted open and she stretched in a Long catlike movement. A few birds were chirping quietly in the distance, and Molly looked around her. The light was very gray, as if she was in the midst of a very dense fog, and the ground was a pale green, and several tall stony trees towered around her, as though all the color had been drained---
Molly's heart began to pound. She strained her ears for the birds she had heard a moment before. She gasped and nearly fainted in shock. The noise that she had first heard as chirping was growing, ever clearer, into jingling. Molly gulped. At least she could see this time, she thought nervously, throwing another glance at the pale green grass. She scraped up as much courage as she could and pulled herself to her feet.
She called, her voice only shaking a little, Is--is anyone here? A surprised gasp seemed to echo around the small gray clearing.
came the voice that Molly knew she would never forget, Are-- is-- is that Molly?

Oh! Thank goodness! The Lady's voice was filled with relief, and sounded raw, like she'd been crying. We thought you'd decided not to return. We didn't know what to do. You are our only hope now! Molly shoved down the scared-anticipation of adventure that was creeping up her spine and kept her voice calm and aloof,
We? Our? What do you mean?
Oh, my sisters. We. We, who need you're help, she sounded utterly terrified.
Why haven't I heard them before? Molly asked, deliberately refraining from commenting on the help' that she needed to give. The Lady's voice now edged toward panic,
I-- I don't know. You've only been here once. Sadume has been sick, that's why we need your help. Because she's sick, and we're---she seemed to search desperately for a word
What do you mean? Molly bit her lip, she was becoming concerned. That was not good.
Will you stay to listen? Will you help? I cannot tell one who will not help us. That is why Sadume is sick. My-- her silky voice broke, --my mistake.

Molly stood for a moment, torn between the need to help someone in trouble and the need to be smart. A moment later she threw all caution to the wind,
she breathed weakly, I'll help. What's wrong?The Lady sighed in relief,
Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I was so worried. Molly waited, I suppose you will have to know it all, then, from the beginning.
That would help, Molly said, hoping she didn't sound too sarcastic. She heard the Lady take a deep breath, and a rustling behind one of the tallest gray trees.
It would also help, then, to see me, I suppose? Molly stood in silence, her head tilted curiously as a hazy shadow moved into view.
I-- I can't really see you. . . Molly said, a little embarrassed. In fact, I couldn't see anything last time, and now it's all a sort of gray blur. The Lady sighed again,
That is one of the safeguards that we have given to Nogrog, since it has been made our home.
What do you mean made your home'? A tension contracted in the air, and Molly felt as though, somehow, the whole world of Nogrog was answering her questions with the Lady.
That is where it all begins, the voice responded with a distant sort of ache, It begins, she repeated, with a man named Tom. A shiver ran up Molly's spine for a reason that she couldn't place, but she didn't speak. Why don't you have a seat? The Lady said, indicating with what must have been an arm toward the ground. Molly sat down gracefully, still not saying a word, pressing the Lady to continue.
When I was a young girl, she began, I was very beautiful. Regarded as one of the most beautiful in the land, in fact, second only to my sisters. Of the three of us, I am the oldest, and Sadume is the youngest. Sadume, to be fair, was spoiled in her youth by all the people of the land. She grew very conceited. I will not say that I was not conceited as well, nor will I say that my other sister was not. However, Sadume was also the least wise of the three. She bragged, one day, that she was more beautiful than the queen, and the queen turned her wrath against Sadume. The Lady paused, and Molly spoke for the first time,
What wrath? Choked sobs came from the gray mass as it tried to speak,
She-- she-- her wrath was so great, and Sadume such a weak child. There was nothing-- nothing we could do. It was all Tom's fault. . . all his fault. She broke off, wailing in grief.
What did he do? Molly asked, unable to control her curiosity. The Lady's crying stopped suddenly, and a deep hatred filled her voice. He came to me and told me of a place we could go. A place where Sadume would be safe. I believed him, and he brought us here. Here. Where we cannot leave. Safe, the word slid off her tongue, covered in a kind rage that Molly had never imagined, Safe from the world, because we were no longer in the world. He trapped us here. Draining our power, sucking out our life. He has nearly killed Sadume, I am alone, for our sister has vanished. You must help us, Molly. Molly bit her lip, she didn't know what to do. The Lady's voice broke out again, You must.

Molly closed her eyes, concentrating on thinking. Nothing came. She asked.
There is a way, The Lady said, a strange tone in her voice. There is a spell that can get us out of here. We could perform it, but we would need things, Molly. Things that cannot be gotten here. Shivers ran up Molly's spine again.
She asked, crossing her fingers that it would all be legal.
Five things. Five things can get us out, Molly. We have to get out, Molly. Molly held her breath,
She repeated.
Three Petals of a moonflower, two tears of a phoenix, a single unicorn hair, the venom of a basilisk, and. . . Molly's eyes were wide in desperation, what else could there possibly be? a certain mirror. The Lady finished, the haze that surrounded her emitting tense sort of rays of light.
Molly's face paled. She hoped vehemently that the Lady saw her as the same grayness that she was looking into, for she felt, at that moment, like she'd given away any hope she'd had of keeping the mirror secret. Molly didn't know why, she didn't know what, but some deep primitive instinct was screaming to her not to reveal the mirror. Some inane voice was whispering in her head not to say a word. To play ignorant. To lie. I've got to talk to someone about this, she thought desperately.
She turned her face back up to the gray world. She had to help, though. That wasn't a question. The sisters were in trouble, she had to help. She spoke one word.
The millionth sigh of relief came from patch of haze hovering in front of Molly's eyes.
Listen carefully, the Lady's voice said, there is only time to say this once.

Molly lay in bed with her eyes shut, thinking. She knew she was back this time, as she'd known she was going when the jingling began again. She didn't know how, but something more powerful than herself, and more powerful than the Lady in the Glass was controlling her life. Something had given her a new fate. The sudden urge to talk to someone came over Molly again, and she racked her mind for anyone she could count on. Then it hit her. She'd already had someone to talk to. But. . .
She'd been in the Willow tree yesterday morning. Honest hadn't come. . . Molly suppressed a flabbergasted grunt and pulled herself out of bed. Maybe Honest had gotten confused and thought the meeting was today. It was possible, she decided as she pulled on some clothes and headed for the door.

She was nearly out the potrait hole when a half-strangeled shout echoed across the common room,
Molly Camden! Molly turned. Arthur Weasley was sprinting toward her, the looks of relief, bewilderment, and anger all flashing over his face at once, as though some battle was raging in his head. Molly raised her eyebrows in surprise. Where the hell have you been?! Arthur shouted. Anger had apparently won. Molly opened her mouth, but she didn't get time to speak,
Do you know what you've done to us?! Everyone's been worried sick! Molly looked around the common room. Everyone was staring on with definite interest but they didn't exactly appear worried sick. Molly took a deep breath,
I skipped class, Arthur. I don't think they cared, she said lightly, gesturing to the roomful of onlookers, who quickly shifted their gazes when Arthur spun around to look at them.
Screw them! Arthur shouted. Anger had been defeated, it seemed that fury was now reigning king in the realm of Arthur Weasley's head. Brook, Allyson, and I were up all night! None of the first year girls ate lunch yesterday, they were all looking for you. If we didn't find you today, we-- Molly had had enough. A coldness that she hadn't known she possessed filled her voice, but her words were calm and contained,
Look, Arthur. The first year girls don't care about me, and I don't care about them. The arrangement works perfectly. Now excuse me, I was on my way out. With that, Molly tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked out the portrait hole, leaving behind a silent common room and a very stunned Arthur Weasley.