An hour later, Molly found herself in bed pondering over the days events. Once she had asked Metsie for food, there was no going back. Swarms of house-elves had bowed and curtsied platters of food to her, only stopping to ask if she wanted anything else before bringing it anyway. She shook her head and laughed into her pillow. She liked house-elves.

Molly awoke the next morning in a better mood than she had been in in days. Somehow happy house-elves had managed to do something that none of her other efforts had: push both first year and Nogrog into the back of her mind. She stood up and walked over to the window, drawing back the curtain quietly and looking out. It was early, the sun was just barely peaking over the horizon, and no one else was awake yet again. She stared at the lake, the water much like a sheet of glass, and watched as the giant squid broke the surface and floated lazily on top. It was time to go back to class, she decided. She'd already missed so much that her grades were surely suffering severely. But more than caring about her grades, Molly wanted to learn magic. She'd looked forward to Hogwarts for all her life, and now that she was here all she was doing was skivving off. It was time to go back.

Molly went to her dresser and pulled on her favorite jeans and her pale yellow shirt she'd gotten for her birthday last year. She tied up her hair, pulled her cloak on and headed for the door. She was nearly out went something blue tied onto the left post of her four-poster caught her eye. It was an envelope labeled simply Molly. Carefully, she pulled it open and read:

Mol,
I know that you've been depressed and stuff and I didn't help by yelling at you yesterday. I wish that you would come to class, though. Everyone misses you. Meet me at breakfast at 7:00, I want to talk to you. Please. Sorry about the yelling,
Arthur

Molly folded the note back up and slipped it into the envelope. She glanced at her watch, it was 6:23. Well, she had some time to kill, then.


At 6:55 Molly was sitting at the Gryffindor table eating warm biscuits, compliments of all the house-elves downstairs. After she'd gotten Arthur's note, she'd gone to the owlery and sent a letter to her parents, making Hogwarts sound ten times as wonderful as it had been, but keeping them perfectly happy. She was just thinking that it would be a good day to organize her trunk when Arthur appeared. He looked. . . pensive. And a little bit worried. His face brightened considerably, however, as soon as he saw Molly waiting for him.

She ran a hand over her dark ponytail and wrinkled her forehead.

Whatcha need? She asked, as though her behavior over the past week had been perfectly normal.

Arthur said, seriously. A frown creased Molly's face. She was about to question, when Arthur went on, See, I have this friend. For some reason she thinks that all of her friends hate her, and she's been acting really strange, and skivving off, and I don't know what to do. I could tell her she's in denial, but I'm afraid she'd get mad at me, too. Or I could say that it's not smart to skip, but then I would potentially be setting myself up for future lectures. You see my dilemma. Any advice?Molly rolled her eyes. For some reason hearing it from Arthur didn't put her in a bad mood. It did, however, force her to take up her own defense; and therefore, shoot him down.

Well, maybe, you should tell her you're a great prat. That might make her feel better. Arthur widened his eyes and gulped dramatically, looking Molly straight in the eyes,

I'm a great prat.

They both stared at each other silently for a moment; and then Molly broke out into hysteric giggles, which turned into wild laughter, and she was soon doubled over, gasping for breath, and threatening to choke on her biscuit all at once. Arthur watched, bewildered. He appeared both incredibly relieved that she was happy and thoroughly confused at once; displaying a war of facial expression as only Arthur could. This only made Molly laugh harder.

She finally got out between giggles. Arthur looked entertained, astonished, and exasperated all at once. Molly fought not to fall out of her chair. No, stop, stop, STOP!

Stop, what? Molly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got herself under control. Then she took one look at Arthur's face and lost it all over again.


The next few days flew by with abnormal speed. Molly herself was living. . . loudly. She was having fun at every opportunity; laughing whenever possible, behaving-- quite uncharacteristically-- spontaneous, and joking with Arthur endlessly. Arthur seemed so relieved that Molly was smiling once more that he didn't mention Brook, Allyson, Jenica, or Darcy again, letting Molly exhaust her energy. The fourth day after their breakfast however, Arthur approached Molly in Charms. The lesson, given by the archaic Professor Bluth, had ended early and she saw him coming from a mile away, the determined look set on his face. She sighed and studied him, already knowing what he was going to say.

Mol, I want you to-- She cut him off,

Let it go, Arthur. I don't-- He cut her off,



I won't--



Lay off--





Of my friends.

Concern eased off Molly's face. She tilted her head, wondering.

She answered, after a brief pause. It occurred to her at one point that he might just be leading her straight to Brook, but he headed to the back of the classroom, where the four loud girls definitely were not. Arthur stopped in front of three boys, two of which she knew to be from Gryffindor, the other, she assumed, was from Ravenclaw as their Charms lessons were shared with Ravenclaws. The first person that Arthur introduced her to (and who vaguely remembered from a previous introduction) was a tall blondish boy with a slightly crooked nose.

This is Hugh Davies, he's in Gryffindor with us. So is Sir Kaleb Finch here, he gestured to a short boy with shaggy brown hair and bright blue eyes. Molly lifted an eyebrow.

Arthur's face remained completely serious,

Of course. He was officially knighted yesterday at lunch.

Oh really? Molly asked, her lips twitching in humor, and by who, may I ask?

King George, here, he patted the Ravenclaw, who was four times Arthur's size (both ways, it seemed), companionably on the back. Molly held her hand out and curtsied in feigned reverence.

My Lord. The massive King George turned a bright pink, but managed to keep his face straight.

I prefer King George Dobbs the Sixth, Mademoiselle. He spoke in such a low pretentious tone that Molly finally cracked into a hilarious fit of giggles that had wanted to escape since the stupid conversation had begun. King George, however, did not appear pleased. He ordered her to be beheaded at once. Professor Bluth told them to kindly take their seats.


After meeting Hugh, Kaleb, and George, Molly's life almost became normal again. She even had a lot of genuine fun. Whenever she crawled into bed at night (usually so late that the other four girls were already fast asleep), though, she had to tell herself again and again that she was happy, and that she didn't need any other friends. That she didn't need anyone to talk to about make up or hair or how incredibly cute Hugh was. She and the other four had, in fact, reached what seemed to be a silent arrangement. They didn't speak to her, and she didn't speak to them. It was like they lived on two separate dimensions, and Molly was perfectly happy with the it that way. At least, she tried to tell herself she was. Two weeks after the Charms introductions, however, as Molly was walking to dinner, she found herself standing behind Arthur and Hugh. She was just about to attack when the sound of her own name made her pause.

--- I really don't know what to do about it, Arthur was saying, You don't even understand. The first time I met Molly she was so happy. I mean really happy. It wasn't like now, how she just laughs all the time; almost like she's afraid to stop. I thought maybe it was just cause she didn't have enough friends, but that's only made it worse.

Gee, thanks, Hugh replied sarcastically.

You know what I mean, Arthur said, unapologetically. I think I'll talk to Brook. Molly froze where she was standing. She couldn't believe it! After everything she'd confided in Arthur, he was just going to run to her worst enemy about what he thought were her psychological issues. She felt her face flush in anger and couldn't control herself,

Arthur Weasley! Arthur turned and his mouth fell open a little in surprise when he saw Molly so close behind him. I truly cannot believe you! I thought I could trust you! Molly was shouting furiously, completely oblivious to the students stopping in the hall to watch. After everything you've said! After all the fun! You go behind my back, plotting to talk to the one group of people I have forbidden you to say anything to! You're horrible and rude and completely disappointing, and I'm absolutely disgusted that I've had anything to do with you! Arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, Don't speak to me! Molly roared. She swung around and stormed back toward Gryffindor Tower, leaving behind a shame faced Arthur and a baffled audience. The voice of a bystander carried to Molly, just barely audible over the pounding blood in her head,

My God! It said, full of awe and horror, She's worse than my mother!


Molly burst into her dormitory simply flaming. She could not believe his nerve! She had to do something, she had to burn up the anger in her or she was going to explode. Her eyes fell onto the Mirror. She hadn't been to Nogrog since the second visit. She hadn't worked at all on figuring out how to help The Lady either. A sudden surge of guilt almost fully replaced the rage. She should go. If nothing else, to get more information; to learn about this Tom. . . and to ask about the mirror. That one question kept popping up whenever Molly thought about it. What link did the mirror have to Nogrog? To Tom? Sadume? The Lady? Why did she have it, and why did they need it? She had to know. Molly looked at her watch. Lessons were over for the day, and no one would expect her until morning. Plenty of time, then.

Molly picked up the mirror. This would be the first time she'd ever willingly tried to get to Nogrog, would it even work? She lifted the glass to her face, gazing into the pearly mist. SEM La Rorrim den Norgog Euryale, She spoke the words that had first taken her in a soft voice, and immediately the world began to spin and darken as a jingling filled her ears.

When Molly opened her eyes, she found that she could see even more clearly than the last time. The grass was a few shades greener, and the sky a pale blue. The trees and flowers, howverem remained a stoney gray.

The now familiar voice called out in joy and a hazy blur seemed to jump up from beneath a tree and rush to her. You've returned so soon! Unease and guilt flooded back into Molly's system. How could she have not searched for the ingredients that would free them already? The Lady seemed to read her thoughts, though, and spoke in the same happy voice, But surely you have not been able to find our elements already. What is it that you have come for, then? Molly smiled, at least here no one was turning their respective backs on her.

Just to check on you, Molly answered sincerely, but I have a few questions, if you wouldn't mind answering for me.

Of course not, the voice emanated from the haze, what do you wish to know?

Molly said, biding her time until the most pressing question, I want to know more about Tom. Who is he? How did you know him? I think that perhaps, if I could find him, I could find a way to make him release you, rather than attempt this spell. There was a moment's silence, and then the Lady responded,

Even if you could find him, she said slowly, I would not want you to. Tom is treacherous. He cannot be trusted. He was, once, a person. . . but he has become worse. His quest began, I believe, in search of truth. It has become a search for power and immortality. The things that Tom craves are not human, nor are they wise. But he has such a desire that he cannot be dissuaded. He has resorted to sucking the magic and the life out of those less powerful than he, or those that he can fool into his treachery; such as us. Each day my sister gets weaker, and each day it becomes harder not to give in and give him all he wants. Molly's mouth had fallen open. She'd had no idea that this was anything, anything so real. Surely, surely this Tom couldn't be as horrible as the Lady thought. . . Surely. . .

What else to you need to know? The silky voice brought Molly back to her senses and sent her mind reeling for another question.

You told me how the spell worked, Molly asked, truly hoping for an answer to this question, but you didn't tell me how to get the. . .er. . . elements, did you call them?

Elements, yes, her calm voice stated sadly. Unfortunately, I cannot give you any information on the whereabouts of such things. I have been here too long, and I am from too far away. . . She trailed off. Frustration hitched itself into Molly's side and she let out a very immature whimper.

But how-- how am I supposed to-- how do I even know-- Molly cut herself off, thinking how horrible she'd almost sounded.

That this is even real? The Lady finished for her, making Molly feel terrible. I told you the first time I saw you, looking down at me through the sky, though I still don't know how you were there. I told you that If you perceive and don't believe. . . She trailed off again, but Molly didn't need her to finish. The question had been stupid. She knew this was real as surely as she knew that Hogwarts was real and that magic was real. She sighed. The time had come to ask what she really needed to know.

There's one other thing, she said, her voice quavering just a bit.

the Lady encouraged. Gathering her bravery, telling herself that her fear of letting the Lady know of the Mirror was stupid, Molly drew in a deep breath.

The Mirror that you spoke of. . . You never described it or told me why it was important. How am I supposed to get it if I don't know? It seems like there is something missing. It was out now. Molly just hoped she could get a satisfactory answer. The Lady remained silent, and Molly heard her let out a shaky breath.

The Mirror, the Lady said when it seemed she had found words, is the key to it all.


Mollys sharp intake of breath seemed to echo around the clearing. What-- what do you mean?

The Lady drew in a deep breath as well. The Mirror is the only way to get back and forth here. . . at least we thought it was. But then you came, Molly. That is why you are so important, becuase you came without it.

But that can't be all, Molly thought out loud. There has to be something more to that Mirror. . . Why does it bring people here? Her mind begged for the answer. How?

That is not all, The Lady sighed. The Mirror used to be mine. It was a token given to me by a friend. A friend who said I should-- I should always be able to see how beautiful I was. You see, I had been very jealous of M-- my sister. Sadume is the most beautiful of us. . . she always was. He, my friend, gave me the Mirror. She broke a moment, collecting herself. Tom saw its usefulness later when it became apparent how desperate we were. He enchanted it. He told us how effeceint it would be, because no one could get here-- to--- to Nogrog. No one except us. The idea seemed so perfect. We had. . . never had any idea--- The Lady's voice cracked and her voice disappeared under sobs. Molly had heard enough.

It's okay, she said when the Lady tried to go on, that's enough.

Oh, Molly! The smooth voice broke again, please, please help us out of here. Molly ser her jaw, but not soon enough to stop to tears rolling down her cheeks.

Don't worry, she whispered, don't worry. I will.

Suddenly, the jingling, as if on cue, became thick once more. But even as things were growing darker and fading off, a new question popped into Molly's head.

There was a momentary lull in the jingling, What's your name?! A tearful laugh broke out and everything-- including the reamining jingling-- seemed to pause for an answer.

the Lady's voice answered, I don't have a name, but I was once known as Euryale. The jingling hit back, full force, and Molly was swept away.