[Disclaimer: I don't own anything JK Rowling created. If she could see her way clear to loan me Draco and Severus, I wouldn't complain, though.]

Author's Note

I'm ignoring most of OotP as far as my fanfiction is concerned -- it just doesn't fit. Might use some of the stuff though. You'll know it when you see it, I imagine.

On A Crooked Path

Chapter Nine: Set a thief to catch a thief

By Adele Elisabeth

Cassandra smiled to herself -- a cold, cruel sort of a smile.

"Lacci…Lacci…Lacci…and you had such potential." She tsk-tsked, with a melodramatic sigh. "Thieving little bitch thinks she's going to kill me? Not hardly, poppet. Not hardly." It hadn't exactly been difficult to get to the bottom of Lacrimosa's motives -- after all, she herself was the reason Lacci and Jean spent all those long, cold years apart.

She was rather proud of that fact.

Lacrimosa had never been what you might call, say, careful when it came to her feelings, and she had a tendency to act without thinking. Cassandra knew her very well, after all, she had taught her most of what she knew. Lacrimosa was angry and hurting and the first thing she was going to do was get Helena safe, and then…and then Lacrimosa would be coming after her.

First, though, before she dealt with her errant former pupil, it was time to get her hands on that idiot daughter of hers. Hadn't Thamala learned anything from her mother? If Thamala thought Cassandra was going to let her off lightly because she was blood, the silly little cow had another thing coming.

Of course, Thamala had always caught on quickly when Cassandra taught her the right way. Cassandra's rewards system worked like this:

Do it right and I won't have to hurt you.

Well, it had worked well enough. Sadly, Thamala had failed miserably last year. And she still needed the brat. Helena had the potential to be so much more…she could see that now. But to get at that, she still needed Thamala…much as she hated to admit it.

Hugh was confused.

It wasn't a state he often found himself in, and he decided he didn't much care for it. It wasn't terribly pleasant.

Pleasant or not, he was completely confounded.

He had been passing through Hogsmeade that weekend, to pick up a little package, when a pair of gossipy Ravenclaws had brushed past him, chattering animatedly about how 'that Everly girl' had brushed off their offer to show her around Hogsmeade, saying she was meeting a friend. When pressed, apparently, she gave the name 'William Davis' -- which quite confused the pair, as there wasn't currently a William Davis attending Hogwarts.

It had bloody confused him, too. He'd seen Will die. He went to the grave every year. He'd carried the body to Pomfrey, for Christ's sake.

Will was dead, and that's all there was to it.

This was just…

Confusing.

He froze when he saw the peculiar pair walking toward him.

The girl was unremarkable -- well, she was fairly pretty, and her black hair and pale skin made for an interesting contrast, but that wasn't what had caught his eye.

It was more her companion. Her almost transparent companion, who happened to be floating slightly above the ground.

"William…"

William didn't notice, but Helena had caught sight of the handsome blond man staring at them. Well, to be more accurate, he was staring at William. It wasn't so much the fact he was staring that had caught her attention -- William was a fairly odd sight, being dead and all -- but how he was staring.

There was a myriad of indistinct emotions in his eyes, but it was plain to see he recognized William.

She tugged on the translucent sleeve; thankful for the fact her hand didn't pass through him -- that had been odd. He'd promised to stay, as he called it, 'touchable' after the first time he walked through her by accident and she shrieked. "Will,"

He glanced down at her. "What is it?"

"Zat man over zere -- 'e's looking at you." She pointed at the blond, who had yet to stop staring. "Did you know him?"

"You could say that, luv," William agreed, hurrying her along a bit. "Didn't you want to buy a book?"

"What's wrong, Will?" she dug her heels in, until he was forced to stop or start dragging her.

"Nothing is wrong, Helena, nothing." He assured her, and earned a disbelieving look for his trouble. "Nothing that can't wait for another time," he amended.

When they looked around, Hugh was gone.

Lacrimosa quietly packed her things. She hadn't received a reply from Marie, but she hadn't really been expecting one. Gerad was dead. Lucia was dead. Jean was dead.

Elaynie Parker had died years ago, when her daughters were only young, but what she had left behind would be more than enough for Lacrimosa's purposes.

Elaynie had kept a journal, and in the back of this journal she kept names and addresses and the like of nearly everyone she knew. It hadn't been that hard to get her hands on Elaynie's journal, and now that she had it, it was time to pay a visit to some old friends of her brother's and his lovely wife's.

As long as she was after Cassandra, Helena was left defenseless -- well, not exactly, but Lacrimosa wasn't leaving Helena's safety in the hands of the Hogwarts faculty -- and that did not sit well with the blonde.

Elaynie's half-sister, Cordelia Wilde, ran an agency in Boston with the rather extraordinary Alexis Pryce, and the pair owed her late brother a favor.

Lacrimosa would be quite happy to collect.

It wouldn't take long for her to get there -- thankfully, considering time was of the essence.

She'd always liked her brother's wife. Elaynie had been such a nice person. If Lacrimosa hadn't been a vicious, murdering bitch, they might've been good friends.

Helena returned quietly to the room that she shared with Morag Snape (and, she had noted with vague amusement, Draco Malfoy). She would've been happy to stay in a dormitory with the other Ravenclaw girls, but Dumbledore had decided that she would be safer in Miss Snape's room.

William had steadfastly refused to explain the odd encounter in Hogsmeade -- a fact which she found worrisome, in the short time she had known the ghost, he'd proven himself to be rather talkative.

"Hello,"

She blinked and spun -- but it was only Morag. The peculiar blonde girl that always seemed to be watching her. "Hello."
"Is something wrong?"

"No…nozzing is…wrong." That I know of, she added silently. Why doesn't he trust me with this? It was an almost plaintive thought, and one she most certainly wasn't going to voice.

Morag watched her carefully -- as per usual. "A letter came for you earlier. Big black owl."

Helena brightened. "'Is name is Chubblebucket. 'E belongs to a friend of mine, Genevieve Renaldi."

"Chubblebucket," Morag echoed flatly.

"She 'as an odd sense of 'umor."

"I see."

"And ze letter?" Helena prompted.

"It's on your desk." The other girl pointed, before looking down at her book.

Well. That conversation was very clearly over, something that didn't bother Helena a bit.

Dear Helena,

Vie here. It simply isn't the same without you, Lena. Not to mention how Ella and Elli are now -- you did hear about Gerad dying, didn't you? We all wore black, of course. Ava's been beside herself. And don't let's forget about what's been happening to you -- you are being careful, aren't you? It's just not safe. I know I shouldn't, and I can't see the professors being impressed if you get caught with it, but I enclosed a dagger. It's that one I showed you, the one my sisters bought me when I was eleven. Promise me you'll keep it with you always. I worry about you, Lena. And it's very clear my worries are completely and utterly founded, given the situation. Do you want me to come over there? It'd be easy to forge Mother's signature on the papers, and she wouldn't notice me gone. Or care, for that matter. But that's not the point. If all those crazy English folk are outnumbering you, you be sure and let me know and I'll be right there. If your cousin is still there, hit him. Men are all the same, your cousin is no exception, and I saw him with Nymph Montaque before he went over to see you. Cloe keeps crying about it, she's driving me up the wall. Is it wicked of me to want to hex the silly cow?

Probably.

In any case, we all miss you terribly. Ella's putting on a brave front and all that. Elli doesn't come out of her dormitory except for classes and we have to drag her to meals, and even Ava's not as bright as she used to be. This isn't fair, all this danger. You-Know-Who (and isn't that a stupid name?) has a lot to answer for.

Keep safe,

Genevieve O. Renaldi

Helena smiled to herself as she read her friend's letter, sitting at her desk. She couldn't help but admire the stiletto blade Genevieve had insisted on sending -- she'd seen it before, of course, but it was well worth another look. Celeste and Marianne had always taken good care of their little sister, and this was almost all she had left of them. Helena was rather surprised Genevieve had sent it, but she was rather unpredictable.

Dear Vie,

I'll keep it with me, I promise. Adrian's gone, but I'll do better than hit him, I'll tell his father. You know how my uncle loathes that Nymph and her sister, and their parents. Even Ella and Elli can't stand them, and they're family. Hogwarts is…well, it's not bad, it's just not quite what I'm used to. I'm sharing a room with Morag Snape -- she's Ella and Elli's cousin, you know, his youngest sister's girl. She's always watching me, but I heard rumours about what went on when Thamala Blake was here, so I'm not surprised.

I met a ghost, his name is William Davis, and he's very kind. We've made friends. He's a little secretive at the moment -- and it strikes me that he knows something I don't, but I haven't asked him about it. He's been very helpful.

I miss you all too, my classes are vastly dull without you there to make snide comments about the teachers.

Cloe's always irritated me, but you're a very wicked creature anyway, so I don't think it'll make much of a difference.

Safe as I can be,

Helena C. Everly

Morag wasn't used to this, this silence, this being shut out. Helena barely seemed to acknowledge her existence, let alone her presence, and it grated. Her nerves were shot to hell, and it bothered her just being in the same room with the odd girl, but Ms Everly's complete and utter indifference to her was possibly the worst part. She was used to being hated, to being loved, and to being ignored when people were upset with her, or didn't like her, but this girl probably wouldn't have noticed if she chose right then to just drop down dead.

Every time Morag looked at her, she remembered Thamala's pathetic scheming, Thamala Blake's part in the fiasco last year that had ended in her and her mother's kidnap. Helena didn't even look at her, though. When she looked over, it felt as though she were looking through Morag, looking for something more interesting, something intriguing, something that mattered.

Whatever this was, Morag didn't like it. It rubbed her the wrong way. Something was going on, too, she was certain of it. There were all sorts of strange things going on around Hogwarts this year, and at least some of it was focused around this new student.

She remembered where she'd heard the name Everly before, then, with a start.

She'd heard it in a whispered conversation last summer, on one of those rare occasions Uncle Gerad and Aunt Lucia -- it still hurt to think of them -- had both been serious at once. They'd been talking, and he'd mentioned 'that Everly fellow', when they were talking about Aunt Lacrimosa.

Watching her roommate scratching away with the pretty quill Morag had glimpsed earlier, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It could've been just coincidence. Everly couldn't be that uncommon a name, could it?

Morag had never believed in coincidences.