AN: This chapter is longer than the previous ones, but that's probably just because I am currently fanfiction deprived. I know ff.net is working again, but, unfortunately, my computer is not. So even though I really want to thank all of you for your wonderful, encouraging reviews from the last chapter, I can't get on to see what you wrote . . . *sigh* Look for thanks on my bio page, it'll be there if I ever get on. My mission for the next time my computer decides to be agreeable is to sign in & get this posted before it freezes . . . If you're reading this right now, I was successful. And since I put so much effort into finding a way to get this uploaded, don't you feel that the least you can do is review? ;)

Before you start reading I have two notes: 1) *~*~* signifies a jump between Harry's time & MWPP time (yes, I realize I've mentioned that again & again, but it's been awhile since I've updated . . .) and 2) I found a way to describe what the Prelacio Charm is. For anyone who was curious, you can thank Lady Lanya Artemisan for convincing me to include that ^_^

Disclaimer: I can claim a lot in this chapter! *smiles* Elizabeth, Samantha & the rest of the Satine family are mine, as well as the Prelacio Charm, the Ancient Magic, and Intoned Charms. But that's a small amount in comparison to everything I borrowed from JK Rowling. So, as usual, I owe most of this to her . . .

Chapter Five: Lady Sam

*~*~*

Elizabeth and Hermione were standing on the Hogwarts grounds after their first day of classes waiting for Madam Hooch to arrive for Elizabeth's first flying lesson. The lesson had been planned to take place during lunch, but Madam Hooch had been obligated to cancel it in order to escort several students to the hospital wing after a disastrous class with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years. Elizabeth wondered if Madam Hooch would be able to show up this time. I hope not, she thought nervously.

"She'll be here any minute, Elizabeth. You should go pick out a broom from that rack over there," Hermione was saying.

Elizabeth wasn't listening. Her eyes had wandered over to the Quidditch pitch where the Gryffindor team was gathered for their first practice. "Just a minute, Hermione," Elizabeth murmured, her eyes still locked in the opposite direction. She began picking her way toward the pitch, calling out, "Hey, Ron!"

The Quidditch team looked up at her in surprise. They were in the middle of discussing who should become the new captain, since Wood's departure the year before had left them captain-less and keeper-less. Ron, after a spectacular performance in try-outs, had become the new keeper. His eyes narrowed as he saw the brown-haired girl running toward him, her curls bouncing in the wind. It was his first ever Quidditch practice – she wasn't planning to spoil this like she had Potions class, was she?

Elizabeth stopped abruptly in front of the seven team members. She winked at Harry (who sighed internally in preparation for the upcoming battle) before turning to Ron. Taking a deep breath, she stared him hard in the face. Best to get it out in the open . . . "Ron, what's your problem with me?"

Ron was taken aback. He hadn't expected her to be so forward. "I . . . er . . ."

"Because you know I never meant to make you mad, right? I'm sorry if you're upset about your potion, but really, I had nothing to do with that. And if you're scared that I'm trying to steal Hermione from you . . ."

Ron suddenly found his voice. "'Steal' Hermione?!? That's exactly what I don't like about you! You come waltzing in here like some little princess, acting like Little Miss Perfect, thinking everyone should instantly love, worship, and adore you! You just assume you'll be provided with dozens of loyal friends who'll help you get everything you want! Well you're not having ME! And soon Hermione and Harry will realize what you really are and they'll abandon you, too! You won't feel like too much of a princess then, now will you?" Ron had worked himself into such a frenzy saying this that he was practically seething by the end. Hermione, who had caught up to Elizabeth, stood gawking at him, as did the rest of the Quidditch team.

Elizabeth's face remained placid. "What am I really, Ron?"

"A Satine!"

"This is about my family?"

"Of course it is! I've heard about those Satine girls – winning everyone over only to betray them in the end! You're just like the rest of them! Everyone else may ignore it, but I know the truth about you!"

Elizabeth didn't know what he was talking about. She had never heard anything bad about her family, but she didn't feel like dragging out the argument. With a weary sigh she asked, "What do I have to do to prove to you I'm not like my family?"

Ron stopped ranting and stared at her, surprised. "What?"

"I don't know what it is that makes you hate my family so much, Ron, but whatever it may be, I'd prefer that you'd forget it and judge me as my own person. What do you want me to do to prove I'm different?" She repeated calmly.

"I want you to . . . er . . ." he glanced around, and as his eyes alighted on the broom rack, he grinned evilly. "I want you to fly."

"Ron!" Hermione cried, scolding. "She's never been on a broom before! It would be dangerous!"

Ron ignored her. Walking over to a box on the ground, he carefully opened it and released what appeared to be a golden donut-hole with wings. He turned around and glared Elizabeth levelly in the face. "I want you to fly. And I want you to catch the Snitch."

*~*~*

Sirius Black was staring into Samantha Satine's eyes, yet all he felt was amazement. Amazement that there had been no instant spark, no sign of any kind that he had suddenly fallen hopelessly, head-over-heels in love. He felt safe, comfortable. A little dazed that his fear of five years had turned out to be nothing, but calm nonetheless.

"Sirius?" The voice seemed to drift in from far away as Sirius slowly withdrew himself from those deep pools of blue.

"Sirius!" His head snapped up and a vision of Samantha Satine – gentle, beautiful, a bit vexed – swam into view.

"You were smiling," she said matter-of-factly. He just stared at her blankly, so she tried again. "You were smiling. In detention." Oh, so that's what this is about, thought Sirius. He nodded. She continued, "You do realize this is my first detention, and it's all because I tried to help you, don't you?"

With a nonchalant grin, he shrugged, "So maybe you shouldn't be so nice."

Samantha rolled her eyes. "You're right. Whatever was I thinking? I apologize for attempting to rescue you, Mr. Black." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sirius' grin widened. She looks cute when she's mad, he thought. Aloud he said, "Apology accepted, Lady Sam." She opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment Professor Flitwick walked in, carrying a box filled with parchment and quills. "Hullo, Professor!" cried Sirius cheerily.

"So we meet again after hours, Mr. Black," Flitwick responded as he set the box gently down on his desk. Then he turned and winked at Samantha. "Miss Satine, I do believe you're going to like what I've in store for you tonight."

Sirius scurried over to the box, face lit in anticipation. "You mean I won't have to mend your old socks this time, Professor?"

Samantha smiled in spite of herself, but Flitwick seemed not to notice as he squeaked excitedly, "Hogwarts has decided to start a school paper!" Sirius and Samantha exchanged glances. What did this have to do with their detention? "We were discussing it during the last faculty luncheon and Professor Dumbledore agreed it would be a good way for you students to express your ideas. We just need a couple of students to start it off," here he stopped and looked slyly at the two in front of him, who were beginning to comprehend what he was getting at. "You know – brainstorm ideas, topics for columns, how to choose a paper staff . . . So here you are – paper, parchment, heads just bursting with creative ideas – get to work! Write them down!"

*~*~*

"What?!? Ron, this is absolutely ridiculous! You can't really expect her to catch the Snitch when she's never flown before! And what does that even have to do with her not being like her family?!" Hermione cried despairingly. The extent of Ron's distaste for Elizabeth infuriated her.

"Satine girls are dependent on others – to love them, to cherish them, to catch them when they fall – they're petrified of flying – alone in the air with no one to come to the rescue," he replied coolly, as if this was obvious.

"That's insane, Ron! And where do you get off claiming to know so much about Elizabeth's family? And why should you care anyway? Can't you just accept the girl without asking her to break her neck for you?"

"Relax, Hermione. Ten galleons say she'll give up before she even mounts the broom. In fact, would you care to just give in now, Miss Satine?" Ron turned to realize he was speaking only to the rest of his teammates. Elizabeth was already dashing to the broom rack. The eight by-standers watched as she grabbed an old Cleansweep 7 and jumped on. After a moment's hesitation, she shot off into the air. "Er . . . cancel that bet . . ." Ron bit his lip, and a touch of concern showed in his face as he watched Elizabeth soar up, up, up . . .

Hermione whacked him soundly over the head. "She has no idea what she's doing! You can be such an idiot, Ron!"

The concern for her from the spectators on the ground was intense. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was suddenly light and carefree. She had felt a peculiar unease ever since the Sorting Hat had delved into her soul last night, as if it had unlocked some dark secret that was now free to trouble her. For the first time, she felt that weight lifted from her heart and mind as her feet left the ground. The higher she flew, the better she felt.

Quite contrary to Ron's ideas, Elizabeth adored the feeling of being alone and free. She had always felt somewhat separate from her parents and relatives – as if she harbored something they knew nothing about. She hated being a loner, and desperately tried to reach out to society whenever possible, as Ron had said, but flying – she felt her heart swell at the thought – flying somehow made being alone okay. Magical, safe, free. The old Muggle expression "walking on air" came to mind, and she realized she had finally found a way to feel that sensation – both emotionally and physically.

But Elizabeth's greatest amazement came from the fact that her mind, always swirling with turbulent thoughts, became calm and clear when in the air. So clear that worries and wonderings left her, and she was able to focus completely on the task before her: to catch the Snitch.

She was drifting slowly in and out of the clouds, completely unaware of the terrified cries and shrieks from below, when a speck of gold, glimmering just a few feet above of the ground, caught her eye. Not usually the athletic type, Elizabeth had to laugh as she felt her heart sing out, "I was born to do this!" and without a second's thought, felt herself lean forward instinctively, and turn into a sharp dive.

This is better than a roller coaster! She thought, overcome with exhilaration. But unlike a roller coaster, she couldn't depend on the conductor to control the ride for her. As she neared the ground, her heart stopped racing with excitement and began pounding in fear. It didn't even comfort her when she felt the warmth of the golden Snitch settle successfully in her hand. How was she supposed to stop? How would she ever manage to pull out of such a steep dive when she had no time left?

Elizabeth heard sharp, panicked screams and her eyes took in the vision of Hermione and the Quidditch teams racing toward her, preparing to do whatever they could to break her fall. It was going to be awful to crash headfirst into the ground, but it would be worse to hurt to her friends in the process. Thoughts, dread, terror, alarm, all swirled in her mind, too fast to catch. But one fact became clear the second before she hit: no one else would get hurt because of her foolishness.

"STOP!!!" she screamed to them with all the volume she could muster. In a split second, all eight figures rushing toward her froze in place. So did her broom. Her head a mere two inches above the ground, Elizabeth slid off the broom, gently somersaulting into the grass. She stood up shakily and glared suspiciously (albeit gratefully) at the Cleansweep 7. It dropped harmlessly to the ground, triggering a general wave of relief among everyone standing there.

Elizabeth was instantly swept up into tight hugs and congratulatory pats on the back as Hermione sobbed her relief and the Quidditch team expressed their amazement. She pulled away from them and walked placidly up to Ron, a grin playing at her lips. "Mr. Weasley, I believe this is what you wanted," she said, handing him the tiny Snitch. Ron accepted it silently as he stood still rooted to the ground, his face completely white. Elizabeth noticed this and commented, "You're trembling, Ron." The guilt in his eyes doubled at her use of his first name. She smiled, adding, "You were worried about me. Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Once he'd nodded meekly, Elizabeth practically lit up, ecstatic. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have some research to do!" She whirled around, making her way back to the school.

Hermione ran to catch up with her. "Elizabeth!" she cried out. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find out about what Ron was saying about my family."

"Can't you just ask him?"

"I have this feeling that there's more to it than he knows. More to it than anyone knows . . ."

"Then how are you going to discover it?"

"I'm not sure yet – but I think I know where to start."

And with that, she dashed off, leaving Hermione bewildered. "Even I couldn't go do extra research after nearly killing myself on an incredibly talented first broomstick flight. That girl never ceases to amaze me . . ."

*~*~*

One hour and several disgruntled sighs later, Sirius and Samantha had completed everything necessary to start off a Hogwarts school paper. They had lists of necessary positions, possible columns, questions for interviewing students who wished to be part of the paper staff, a sign up sheet . . .

Samantha was pleased at their work. She had accomplished much more than expected. They had accomplished much more. She'd never thought working with Sirius could be so productive. "That was fun, don't you think?" she asked him pleasantly. She could hear his response in her head, "Of course it was fun. You were working with me." She smiled. They'd never been close, but years of being around Sirius Black had taught her what to expect from him.

Sirius, however, was exhausted by his efforts. He slowly raised his head up out of his arms to look at her, his eyes carefully examining her glowing face. Are you always this bubbly? He thought. But he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with her. Raising his eyebrows, he responded, "Fun?! That was worse detention I've ever had!"

Samantha was offended. Backing off, she muttered, "Oh, because you don't have your buddy Potter by your side for once? Am I really that awful to work with?"

He let his head drop back into his arms. Fickle girl, he thought, exasperated, one minute she's shining like the sun, and the next she's ready to snap my head off. She's got more energy that I do . . . Sitting up, he gave her his most apologetic look and mock bowed. "I've got nothing against you, Lady Sam," he said graciously, "I've just never actually had to think before in detention. I usually just have to do, you see . . ."

She just looked at him with pursed lips. He gave a long sigh.

"Ah," announced Professor Flitwick, hearing Sirius as he waltzed back into the room. "Mr. Black is not happy to see me?"

"What? Oh, no, Professor. It's just her royal highness here. She seems to enjoy twisting my words . . ."

"It might help if you'd call be me by my real name," Samantha grumbled.

"You don't like Lady Sam? I find it quite suiting," he replied, placing a hand innocently over his heart.

Flitwick interrupted them. "Well in any case Mr. Black, I would be sighing to see me if I were you, too."

"Why? What now?"
"I have an assignment for you two to take back to your dorms with you."

Sirius gasped. "Homework?! From detention?!?"

"That's right," Flitwick said with a nod. "I'd like each of you to write an article for the first issue of the paper. You've done such a wonderful job brainstorming here that I'm sure you're up to it. You may begin now, if you please. You still have ten minutes."

Sirius was incredulous. He spent his remaining time gaping at the wall, completely stunned.

Samantha, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was going to write about. All she needed now was a penname . . . She glanced at Sirius, head clutched dramatically in his hands, and silently thanked him. "The Curse of Intoned Charms," she wrote. "By Lady Sam."

*~*~*

Elizabeth sighed in exasperation. Three long hours she had spent in the library, and still she could not find what she was looking for. Of course, she thought, slightly annoyed, it would help if I knew exactly what I am looking for. Her first plan had been to research the Ancient Magic, as Professor Flitwick's comments gave her reason to suspect she could uncover some secret there. But as he had warned her, she hadn't found what she was looking for in her investigations under that topic. But what else to search for? What was she trying to find, anyway? Had she been out of her mind when she'd decided to come to the library?

She wandered aimlessly down the long aisles of books, brushing over the tops of dusty tomes. Her hand rested on one particular book, an old binder, to be exact, and her eyes alighted on the faded lettering on the binding – Selected Issues of the Hogwarts Observer. A flutter of interest caused her to carefully remove the binder from its shelf (it was quite heavy), and carry it to a table in a remote corner. She began paging through it curiously, stopping suddenly at an article, which, for some unknown reason, seemed to tug at her heart. Her eyelids were already drooping from hours of hopeless research (on top of the fact that it was rather late), but Elizabeth soon forgot her fatigue as she began to read:

The Curse of Intoned Charms

By Lady Sam

I recently completed a major project for my Charms class. It certainly wasn't the most pleasant project. For one, it resulted in my being forced to write this article (not that I'm upset about doing so, Professor Flitwick, but it would have been nice to have had a choice.) But more importantly, it brought to light certain frustrating flaws in our Charms curriculum.

My project was on the Prelacio Charm. Most of you have probably never heard of it, which in itself is a major indicator that there is something wrong with our classes. The Prelacio Charm, a very powerful enchantment under the category of Intoned Charms, was used in the ancient wizarding world as a form of precognition. If performed in the right environment, by a witch or wizard with the ability to tap into the Ancient Magic, this astoundingly useful charm could give its performer a view of the short-term consequences of their decisions. Say, for example, that you decide to help out a friend by giving him an answer to his homework. Performing this little spell immediately before doing so will show you whether or not this friend will get caught for copying, and whether or not you will suddenly find yourself in detention for trying to rescue him from a poor mark.

In researching this Charm, I continually found myself distressed. Distressed that no one had ever taught me how to perform something so interesting, but moreover distressed that I had to do so much extra research just in order to understand this enchantment. What is an Intoned Charm exactly? And the Ancient Magic? And why is the Prelacio Charm no longer performed? I searched for the answers to these questions, but did you know that our library is surprisingly deficient in books on these topics? Nevertheless, persistent as I am, I finally found what I was looking for, and would like to share what little I have space for in this article.

Elizabeth was interrupted from reading by the librarian's sharp voice calling from her desk on the opposite wall. "Young lady, have you almost finished? I'll be closing up the library within the next five minutes." Elizabeth's heart was pounding so excitedly that she barely acknowledged the librarian. She was certain this was what she had been searching for. The Ancient Magic, Professor Flitwick, and all the secrecy he had maintained about the topic were all right there in the article before her. On an impulse which directly defied her own common sense, Elizabeth checked to make sure no one was watching, cautiously removed the article from the binder, folded it twice, and slipped it into her pocket.

With the thrilling sensation of one on the brink of some magnificent discovery, she scurried off to Gryffindor Tower.

*~*~*

It was late that night as Samantha sat bent over her work at a table in the cozy Gryffindor common room when Sirius Black's voice snapped her attention from the article Flitwick had assigned her to write. "Samantha?" his voice was soft, and she could just barely make out his dashing figure from the dying embers of the fire. "It's late, you should get some sleep."

"I know. I'm just finishing up my article," she replied, suppressing a yawn.

He walked over to the table and, standing his beside her with his arm rested on the back of her chair, skimmed over the parchment in front of her. His smile was just visible in the room's dim light. "Taking revenge on Flitwick for giving detention to the infamous Samantha Satine?" he asked, amused.

She grinned. "Well, yeah, that was my original intention, but I really do think this is a topic that needs addressing."

He sighed, wondering where she got her determined nature. "Well, I'm sure it can wait to be addressed long enough for you to get some rest. You've already been working all night."

"I know, but if I leave this to finish tomorrow night, I won't be able to help you write yours." She was surprised to suddenly feel his arms around her in a quick, gentle hug.

"You're too sweet sometimes, you know?" he murmured, turning back up the staircase to the boys' dormitories.

Samantha sat still for awhile, a peculiar lightness filling her heart, before turning back to her writing with renewed vigor. Was detention supposed to turn out this sweetly?

*~*~*

Elizabeth found herself alone in the common room when she returned to Gryffindor Tower. Apparently everyone else had been completely exhausted by their first day back to school. She curled up beside the fire and pulled the article out of her pocket.

From what I can gather, an Intoned Charm is a powerful enchantment that is performed without the use of a wand. It begins as a regular charm that is then, in a sense, impressed (or intoned) into a witch or wizard's abilities, so that they can somehow use the charm by saying a simple word, or in more advanced cases, with just a thought or a wave of the hand. This sounds extremely useful to me, so why are we students never taught how to "intone" our spells? The answer lies within the "Ancient Magic," the best definition for which I could find being, "magic that lives within our very earth, that regulates the powers of good over the powers of evil, and can be tapped into by certain masters of the magic and used to develop powers surpassing those of the ordinary witch or wizard" (Magic of Old, page 4).

Apparently, an Intoned Charm can only be performed with the help of the Ancient Magic, and for some unfortunate reason that I've yet to discover, the Ancient Magic has dwindled rapidly ever since the 6th century AD, as have the number of witches and wizards with the ability to tap into its extraordinary power.

But why is this reason to keep such information from us students? If these "Masters of the Old Magic" are so rare, wouldn't it seem more important than ever to try to teach students Intoned Charms to see if any have the abilities? Especially in these dark times – are we not in desperate need of such strong good magic to combat the rising evil in our world? Not to mention how handy spells like the Prelacio Charm would be. If I could have performed that, I would be sleeping right now rather than writing this. Are the teachers afraid of us becoming too powerful? Or do they just believe none of us capable of much? Whatever the reason, I find the lack of education on this topic insulting and unjust.

But as there is nothing I can do about it at the moment, I find that my best option would be to take the advice of a friend and get some sleep. If anyone is interested in pursuing this topic, please contact the paper staff. Until then, I wish you all a good night and sweet dreams!

Best regards, Lady Sam.

Upon finishing the article, Elizabeth quietly made her way upstairs and into her warm, comfortable bed. It wasn't long before she had slipped into a deep, blissful sleep – the most restful night she would find at Hogwarts for a long time.

AN: Hey everybody! I'm back! I know, I know, it's been awhile, and if for some reason you've been checking my bio page, you'd know I've been listing plenty of excuses . . . Sure, those all played a part, but to tell you the truth, the real problem is that when I started this I had a detailed beginning and ending all planned out in my head, but a very vague middle (I've never been the best at pre-planning . . .). And then this idea popped into my head, which I decided to go with, but which scared me a little since I'd never planned to write it at all. But that's the way with fanfiction, isn't it? You just write as you go along ^_^ Anyway, I hope you didn't think this chapter was too boring. My writing tends to be influenced by whatever I'm reading at the moment, and I happen to be reading my summer homework book right now . . . But enough of that :) Like Samantha, I'd like to wish you all good night and sweet dreams (no matter what time of day it is). Alors, bonne nuit et faites de beaux rêves! (Katya, do not dare to correct my grammar.) Thanks for reading (and reviewing?), WhetherRose.