When Rose Potter opened her eyes, she saw the blue eyes of Joseph Hillyer looking down at her.

"Wha…?" she began, before the throbbing in her head silenced her. She placed an arm over her face, letting her eyes close again. "Bloody Hell."

A chuckle escaped from Lord Hillyer. "Just so, Rose." She heard him muttering, and recognized the incantations for routine diagnostic charms. "How do you feel?"

"Did someone get the number of that lorry?" was her response. That got another chuckle from Hillyer, who clearly understood the reference.

Rose opened her eyes and looked to her right when she heard the sobbing. Ginny Weasley had, mercifully, woken up after the arrival of the professors, and was now having the expected breakdown on the shoulder of a very uncomfortable Professor Snape. Dumbledore looked just as uncomfortable, and had offered his own shoulder for the girl, but Snape had been closer.

When Ginny realized what she had done, she would be horrified, but that would not happen until later - her need was much more immediate. Rose made eye contact with Snape, who managed to give her a bit of a glare. She shook her head slightly, to which he responded with an eye roll. He would play nice - though, she fully expected to pay for it later.

She had an odd sort of detente with her Head of House, something that the other four lacked. Rose believed that Snape approved of her as a Slytherin, even as he disapproved of her father. Perhaps her conduct over the past year and a half had shown him that she was her own person, and not a reflection of James Potter. Though she had only a mental image of her 'brothers', the fact that each of them was the spitting image of their father had to incense the Potions Master - and none of them had the advantage of wearing the silver and green.

Nor did that do anything to explain his ire towards Marigold. At first, she had thought that Snape may have had issue with their mother as well, but he had described them as friends. Maybe the two had had a different sort of relationship in Marigold's universe?

Regardless, it was probably only the Professor's grudging respect for her that kept him from scolding the youngest Weasley. Later, she would have to find a way to send this memory to her counterparts, for she would never forget it.

Fawkes was gone, it seemed, though Rose noticed that her robes were still wet with blood. She could not tell where her blood stopped and that of the basilisk started. Nor could she identify the blood of the phoenix. It had all mixed together, providing visual proof of just what sort of ordeal she had survived. When asked, Joseph said that Dumbledore had portkeyed the injured phoenix to his office, where the bird would have an early burning. Rose made a mental note to thank Fawkes for his aid, as she quite literally owed her life to the phoenix.

"Can you sit up, Rose?" asked Joseph. With a grunt and a groan, she took his hand and lifted herself up. Her wounds seemed to have been healed, but that did nothing to cure the soreness in her muscles and joints. She would be feeling the effects of the battle for days, it seemed.

Looking around the chamber, she saw the signs of that battle - the scorch marks surrounding the diary, the blood on the stone (hers and the basilisk's), the shattered debris. Headmaster Dumbledore was examining the beast itself, and looking quite pale while he did so.

No one had moved the sword from her side, so she allowed herself a moment to get a good look at the priceless blade. It was not a straight sword, as she might have expected, but a scimitar, its wide blade curving at the point. Green jewels adorned the hilt, each one seeming to catch the dim light of the chamber. The grip was of grey leather, and she recalled how comfortable it had felt in her hand. Indeed, the entire sword had felt much lighter in her hands than its size (and hers) would have suggested. She looked forward to learning just what enchantments Slytherin had placed on his sword.

Etched into its steel were two phrases. The first was a line of Arabic script, something she would have to have someone translate later. Below that she found a second line, obviously engraved into the blade long after the first. This second line was in a strange script she had never seen before. Despite that, something inside her was able to translate the text. At the back of her mind, she realized that this was some sort of written form of parseltongue. Perhaps the magic that allowed her to use that gift also protected the secret of this one? The second line was as simple as it was baffling, given what she knew of Slytherin.

Let their cunning guide their ambition, lest the cost grow too dear.

Spellforged is going to lose his mind over this, she thought to herself. That thought reminded her of Marigold's duel with the diary, months ago, and her reaction when their connection had been severed. She guided her thoughts to the link and said I'm fine, Ginny's fine, I'll update you before long. Everything's OK.

The relieved thoughts from the other four Potters warmed her heart, and brought a soft smile to her face. Lord Hillyer saw this, and said nothing.

Rose saw that Ginny had calmed down somewhat, and was sitting on the edge of the stone platform. Snape sat beside her, continuing to run diagnostic charms over her. She saw now that it was not a raised altar, but simply a flat space a few steps higher than the main area of the chamber. Perhaps the space had always collected water, as it seemed to have done in recent years, and Slytherin wanted to have a dry area for some reason? There was no ritual markings, no rune stones set into the floor, leading Rose to believe it to be a matter of convenience and little else.

Headmaster Dumbledore was approaching, having gotten his fill of the great beast of Slytherin. Rose could tell that he was still pale, obviously troubled at the thought that such a creature had had the run of the school. When he drew near, his eyes went to the sword.

"Is that…?" He began. Nodding, Rose lifted the blade. Lord Hillyer, without prompting, conjured a thick cloth, which she used to wipe down the blade. Once it was clean of the blood and filth of Basilisk and diary alike, she held the blade up for Dumbledore's inspection.

She did not hand it over to him. He was not of Slytherin. Her eyes darted over to Professor Snape, who watched with interest. Would she have allowed him to hold it? She couldn't say. Something inside her made her protective of this particular sword, and she could not explain it.

"Remarkable," said Dumbledore quietly. "I wonder what it says."

Lord Hillyer spoke then, reciting a phrase in Arabic. Off the looks of the group, he smiled. "I believe it reads thus: 'I Belong to the Defender of the Innocent.'" He shared a look with Dumbledore. Both men then turned to Snape, who looked troubled.

Rose, in that moment, decided not to reveal the second line, or that she could read the text. Not yet, anyway. Snape had had enough shocks for one day.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was as shocked to learn that Joseph Hillyer was a Parselmouth as Snape and Dumbledore had been. She had not known where the gift came from, nor had she researched the question, not wanting to draw attention to the ability. She recalled how the school had ostracized Seeker when his Parselmouth abilities became public, and did not relish a repeat of that situation. Being a slytherin with the skill would only make it worse.

It was impressive, though, that Hillyer was able to call for a staircase up to the school. The journey was made even easier when she and Ginny found themselves levitated up that staircase, the professors not wishing to have them exhaust themselves with the climb.

When they emerged into the school, they found Myrtle's bathroom - and thus confirmed Rose's earlier theory about the entrance to the Chamber. She also knew why Ginny had been there - she had been caught either coming or going, it seemed. Riddle had hinted that Ginny had tried to free herself by destroying the diary, though flushing it down the toilet had not done the job.

It was a good thing that Hillyer had known where to look for the entrance. As they entered the corridor, Rose found herself wondering if the other Lord Hillyers had taken up the search as well. Hers had said that he had come to the school hoping to get a look at some of the older blueprints kept in the Headmaster's archive, plans that wouldn't be found at the ministry. A wizarding architect by trade, he had wanted to see if he might notice something that others had missed. Turns out, he had - and a lucky thing, too, or else she and Ginny might have remained in the Chamber for quite a while before help arrived.

She asked Spellforged about it, and he said he would look into it. Good enough for me, she had thought. Going to rest now, she sent as they arrived at the infirmary.

oOoOoOoOo

The doors opened to reveal a crowd of worried adults, all staring at the two girls before them. It was only then that Rose realized what sort of sight they must be - a pale and shaken Ginny Weasley, her robes and hair askew, covered in dust and filth, standing next to the bruised and battered girl-who-lived, clad in blood-stained Slytherin robes and carrying a scimitar on her back.

Arthur and Molly Weasley moved first, wrapping their daughter in a hug, before ushering her over to one of the empty beds and an irritated Madam Pomfrey. As Ginny was being checked over, Arthur walked over to Rose, who had taken a seat on another of the beds. Rose had met Ginny's mum over the summer, if briefly, at Flourish and Blotts. She had not met the Weasley patriarch, however. Thus, she could not tell if his stiff formality was due to lingering worry over his daughter, distaste for slytherin (or, for whatever reason, for her personally), or out of misplaced propriety. She decided that she was weary of the whole pureblood dance, and cut straight to the important bit.

"She will be fine, Mister Weasley." said Rose. That was it, she realized, as the man's shoulders seemed to relax instantly. His concerns begin and end with his daughter.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked her. "All we knew was that she had been taken."

Rose nodded. "The Headmaster will probably go over most of the details with you, but the most important part - for you, that is - is that Ginny acquired an empty diary at some point over the summer, likely as or just after we met Professor Lockhart at the bookshop." Arthur's eyes grew a bit wide at that, as he thought back to the altercation he had had with Lucius Malfoy.

"The diary was a powerfully dark artifact, layered with compulsions and crafted specifically to draw its victim in. Ginny found that when she wrote in the diary, the diary wrote back. They formed a bond, and she had a true companion with whom she could share her deepest secrets." Rose unstrapped the conjured scabbard from her back, laying the sword next to her as she sat back on the bed. "What she did not know was that the diary was influencing her, controlling her."

Arthur made the connection instantly. "The attacks."

"Yes," Rose agreed. "It was Ginny all along, but only as a puppet being controlled by the diary."

Mister Weasley's expression hardened. "I will need a name, Miss Potter."

"And you shall have it. But from the Headmaster, not me. Not here." She gestured at the room - at the Weasley brothers sitting quietly in the waiting area, hoping to see their sister, and at the professors speaking quietly near Madam Pomfrey's office. "Once you learn that name, I suspect you will agree that your daughter will need a mind healer."

Arthur looked worried, at that. "Is it as bad as that?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, considering her response, before deciding to be blunt. "She effectively had the shade of a teenaged boy in her mind, controlling her and forcing her to attack her classmates. A boy who created the diary in the 1940's, and who later went on to become a mass murderer." She tried to give Mister Weasley a kind look, one of sympathy, and hoped that she was successful - he needed to understand where she was coming from. "I spoke to the thing only briefly, and I plan to discuss it with someone. I guarantee that your daughter would benefit from the same."

The man looked back over to his daughter, being fussed over by his wife and the mediwitch. His frown hinted at his worry.

"I have enormous sympathy for your daughter's situation, sir. I know something of being a target for dark wizards, as you might recall," He looked back at her, shocked that she would bring that up. "Accordingly, I insist that you let me cover any costs for the mind healer." Arthur looked unsure at that - he was a proud man, unused to taking what he saw as charity. Fine.

"If you prefer," Rose continued, putting on her 'Heiress' voice, "I can simply claim a life debt between your house and mine, and use that to insist that you allow me to cover the costs for Miss Weasley's care." She leaned forward, speaking quietly. "I'd just as soon make arrangements without that, wouldn't you?"

Arthur was shocked at the generosity of this girl before him. He had not known quite what to expect, though both Ron and Molly had been surprised by her before. After a moment, he found himself nodding. "Heiress Potter, House Weasley acknowledges the debt, and will do as you say." He reached out his hand. When Rose took it, he paused, leaning closer. "If you ever need our help, you need only say the word."

Rose nodded at that - she had expected nothing less, having heard her counterparts get similar treatment from the Arthur Weasleys of their worlds. It was a constant that, in all worlds (or at least their five), Mister Weasley was a good man.

oOoOoOoOo

As the Weasley patriarch went back to his daughter's side, Rose saw the four Weasley sons approach. Ron, the only one of the four with whom she had spoken at any length, gave her a nod in greeting. The twins looked exhausted. The oldest - Percy, she thought - looked like he was trying to be a good brother to his sister, while keeping a close eye on his younger brothers as if he were in charge in his father's absence. The result was that he had not dealt with his worries, and did a poor job of helping his brothers deal with theirs.

"Gentlemen," she began. "Ginny will be fine." They had seen her walk in under her own power, of course, but their parents had said little else. Of the situation and the rescue, they knew nothing. Nor was Rose about to tell them - better if it came from their parents, if only to limit the rumors that would inevitably spring from this day.

Percy caught that she had addressed her comment to him, and nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Miss Potter, for helping to rescue our sister." His expression darkened a bit, then, and she saw his eyes dart to the Slytherin crest on her robes. It was a quick glance, but it was enough to tell her where his thoughts had gone. A favor for a favor, that's how the snakes do things, isn't it? she lamented bitterly.

His next comment proved that she was right. "Is there anything I can do to repay you?" asked Percy. Offering personally, so that his family isn't on the hook. Interesting… thought Rose. then her eyes went to the Prefect's badge on his robes, and she realized that she absolutely had a favor he could do for her.

"Actually, I do have a request, Mister Weasley." The twins shared a glance, and Ron's expression clouded. He had thought that she was different, but here she was trading favors for influence.

"Yes, Miss Potter?" asked Percy, rather more nervous now than when he had walked over.

"I have a list of three names. I have it on good authority that those three students, gryffindors all, were responsible for the attack on Astoria Greengrass last term. Alas, I cannot prove it, of course." Rose kept her tone light, but her eyes were locked on Percy's.

"I see," said Percy. "And you want what, exactly?"

Rose smiled at him, giving her best 'Pureblood Princess' look. "Why, nothing. I merely want to make sure that the prefects in your house, through you, are aware that those three are a risk. Observe them, and ensure they are disciplined as needs be."

"I won't do anything to anyone without proof." Percy said, affronted at the notion.

"Nor would I ask it of you, Mister Weasley. But if you do happen to see them acting against your house's honor, well, I would hope that you act as the circumstances dictate."

Percy stared at her. "So, you're asking me to do my job."

One of the twins patted him on the back. "Don't worry, brother of mine,"

The other followed suit. "You've been prefecting us into the ground all year."

"Doing your job,"

"Seems to be your speciality."

Rose couldn't help it. The mask fell, and she found herself laughing at the twins' antics. Ron joined her, as did the twins. Percy, shocking them all, even cracked a smile, before agreeing to her terms.

oOoOoOoOo

After chatting for a few more minutes, the Weasley brothers went back to the waiting area. As they departed, Rose made eye contact with Lord Hillyer, who gave her a nod. He remained locked in conversation with the Headmaster, Professor Snape, and now Professor McGonagall, who had arrived while she spoke with Percy.

It gave her a moment to consult the link. She closed her eyes, keeping half an ear on the room, in case anyone else came in.

Take my advice, she began. Have someone else deal with the basilisk.

You sound alright, said Chaser.

I probably am, Rose conceded. But I know that everything will be sore tomorrow.

I'd ask about the chamber, began Spellforged, but it seems that they will need us to get into it, if what you said about needing a parselmouth to open the staircase was correct.

True, Rose said. But it turns out that Lord Hillyer is also a parselmouth. Says he learned it from a visiting instructor at Ilvermorny, a Cherokee wizard whose name I didn't catch. Having been told that parseltongue was inherited, this came as a surprise to her - and, from their reactions, to the others as well.

I wonder if our Hillyers share that trait? Seeker asked. Maybe I'll hiss at him next time we speak.

Why don't you go ask him? Wondered rose. Mine came to the school to look over old blueprints. Surely yours would have done the same? The attacks have been identical, wouldn't the response be as well?

See, I thought about that, said Seeker. But when I checked the conference room you mentioned, there was no one there.

Marigold spoke up, then. He wasn't in mine, either. We did get that shipment of potions you mentioned, though, and the note along with it. Just like you said.

We all did, confirmed Spellforged. But if Lord Hillyer was at Rose's Hogwarts, and none of the others… what changed? Why would he act differently there?

The only difference I can think of is that her diary was still in play, said Chaser. But there's no possibility that he would know that, is there? Even if the Goblins told our Hillyer, how would hers know of it?

That's the question, isn't it? Rose wondered. Tom Riddle's words came back to her, then. He had called her the 'Sixfold Witch', clearly having seen her end of the link. Sixfold, though, implied that there was someone else in their link. She could feel the connections, the magic that bound them, and she knew beyond any doubt that she linked to only four others - her three brothers and Marigold. But even the notion that their link was insecure was a frightening one.

Her thoughts went back to Marigold's encounter with the diary, where the diary had salivated over her ability to summon the magic of five others. She had dismissed it at the time, but now it took a more sinister meaning - that diary had sensed another connection as well.

The sorting hat's words to her came to her mind, then. "I daresay you would be the most loyal of them, to one who proved themselves worthy of your trust." These four people, these Potters, whom she would never meet, from worlds she would never see, these four were the ones who had proven themselves. These four, above all others, were the ones she trusted. Not even Daphne, her sister in all but blood, would ever come before them.

She had a family. They were it.

And still, still, she found herself silent. Riddle had revealed something critical to her, and to Marigold. Her sister had not realized it, but she had. It posed a risk to everything, to each and every one of them. And if he could sense it, even as a spectre, could others?

What horrified her, beyond reason, was that she had no idea what to do about it.

So she kept her own counsel, as she always had, and let the others try to discern the nature of Lord Joseph Hillyer. Their voices still in her mind, she carefully opened her eyes - and watched as the Potter Proxy had an animated discussion with Dumbledore.

She had trusted him with the destroyed diary, after he suggested taking it to the Goblins for testing - honestly, that was probably what he was discussing with the Headmaster. The one she carried with her was a duplicate, the result of a quick gemino charm. Had that been a mistake? The diary had gone to the Goblins in the other four worlds, why not here? Destroyed, perhaps it would yield different clues than it would intact.

The man did not strike her as an enemy, but neither was he one of the five. He was not family. And whatever else was true, she knew this - he came here, to help - but none of his counterparts did the same. Why?

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was shaken from her thoughts by the doors to the infirmary, as they opened to admit Lucius Malfoy. The man walked with his trademark cane, and had an air of triumph. Hillyer had mentioned that the board was meeting today, which would explain his smug grin.

Lord Malfoy just arrived, Rose sent to the link. They had discussed how to deal with the man at length, once they made the connection between Dobby and the Malfoy family. Spellforged had suggested a little charm called the Interdictus, which would signal the Goblins to close the Malfoy vaults and confiscate all assets.

That might be overkill, Marigold had responded. The fact that none of the rest of them had that sort of authority took that off the table as well. Spellforged had pouted for only a moment, arguing that the look on the man's face would be worth it. She couldn't disagree there.

Rose had argued for a more measured approach. After all, she had to live with Draco in her house, and had just gotten him to start behaving a bit. It would be a shame to have to kill him, she had reasoned.

Would it? I mean, really, would it, though? Chaser had asked, getting chuckles from everyone.

"Headmaster," said Lucius Malfoy, as he walked over to the Professors. Hillyer stood nearby, and Rose saw his eyes dart over to her briefly. Was that a hint? She wondered. Slowly, she stood up, strapping Slytherin's Blade onto her back once more. She still wore the robes she had had on in the Chamber, but the blood did not bother her.

"Ah, Lucius, my boy, how was your meeting?" Dumbledore responded, his cheerful attitude at odds with the way his hand stayed near his wand.

"The Governors demand to know what has happened, Headmaster Dumbledore. Based on your report, they will take action to bring the school back under control." Rose could hear the victory in Malfoy's voice - he assumed that he had already won. Not very cunning, my lord, she thought.

"Well, then, no need to delay the good news. You, and the Governors, will be pleased to learn that the Beast of Slytherin has been dealt with, and the two missing students rescued. Both have suffered no permanent damage." He gestured to Madam Pomfrey's office. "And thanks to the generosity of House Potter, we have a supply of Mandrake Extract on hand. The petrified students will be restored to health and mobility within the next forty-eight hours."

Malfoy, to his credit, did not look annoyed that the students had survived - even though Dumbledore's removal would be assured if they had. "I'm glad to hear that the girls will recover. Of course, this means that you know who has claimed to be the Heir of Slytherin? Who has been attacking your school, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore paused briefly, wondering how much to tell. That gave Rose her moment, and she inserted herself into the conversation. "It was a student, Lord Malfoy, controlled by a powerfully dark artifact."

Malfoy looked over to her, his eyes widening at the sight of a sword on the girl's back, though he clearly failed to recognize just which sword she carried. "Is that so? Surely, a student bringing such an artifact into the school should be expelled immediately?"

"You'd think that, yes," Rose said, agreeably. "Except that this artifact seems to have exerted more control over the victim than just a compulsion charm." She nodded to Lord Hillyer. "Indeed, several have suggested that the artifact could be compared to the Imperius."

"It is no matter," said Malfoy, his polite air vanishing. "That student put all of the children at risk, including my son. Miss Potter, that student should be expelled."

Rose met the eyes of Lord Malfoy, and gave him her best sneer. "No witch or wizard should be held accountable for the deeds forced upon them by those more powerful than they are. Their crimes must fall to the one who held them under his thrall."

Malfoy's eyes grew wide in shock - as did Dumbledore's. Hillyer just grinned, fighting the urge to chuckle.

"You dare?" hissed Malfoy.

"It is a horrible thing, Lord Malfoy, to wake up at the end of the day and realize the deeds done in your name. To realize that your house, your honor, were all used as nothing more than tools for a more powerful wizard and his dark whims. To learn that your father's last years were spent in the same yoke that you felt for close to a decade." Her eyes narrowed, but her tone conveyed sympathy. "By all accounts, Abraxas Malfoy was a man of honor. When the Dark Lord imperiused him into taking the mark, he began a decades long rape of the Malfoy legacy. Voldemort did his level best to take everything from your family, even going so far as to take the son when the father died."

Malfoy stood there, mouth open in shock. How DARE she?

Rose's voice grew quiet, even as she became aware that every ear in the infirmary was listening to her. "Lord Malfoy, surely you of all people must understand the necessity of forgiving those whom dark wizards sought to control?"

She saw the man's hand as it tightened on the cane. His pale skin was reddening by the moment. Briefly, Rose found herself wondering if he might explode. Good thing we're in an infirmary.

The moment passed, however, as Malfoy realized that he had no play here. His attempt to get Dumbledore fired was gone with the threat to the school, and discrediting the Weasleys could not happen without discrediting himself as well, seeing as how the Potter girl had tied his imperius defense to these attacks.

"I…. shall be pleased to report to the board, then." Malfoy responded, almost through clenched teeth. "Good day." With that, he turned and left the infirmary as rapidly as he could.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, then. "Why did Miss Potter's words anger him so?" she asked.

Lord Hillyer grinned. "Rose quoted Malfoy's speech word for word, from his trial - the day when he convinced the Wizengamot that he had been under the Imperius. He did not enjoy having his words thrown in his face, did he?"

"Quite," Dumbledore said, thoughtfully. "She all but accused him of lying. A bold move, that, and an effective one, as it kept his attention away from Miss Weasley."

As they continued the discussion, none of them noticed Rose's departure from the infirmary.

oOoOoOoOo

"Lord Malfoy!" Turning, Lucius saw Rose Potter following him down the corridor. Maintaining his air of politeness, Malfoy waited until she stood next to him before speaking.

"Miss Potter," he sneered. "Haven't you had a busy enough day?"

"It would seem not, sir." She handed over the duplicate diary. "You left this behind, Lord Malfoy."

He took the book without thinking, then saw the cover, with his Master's name in its gold lettering. His eyes went to the gash burned in the cover, and the blackened marks surrounding it. No magic remained in the book, even he could tell that the thing was as inert as any muggle diary.

His eyes went back to Rose. "Dobby!" he called.

"Dobby serves his Master?" replied the elf, appearing beside Lord Malfoy.

"Take this to my study." Malfoy said, handing the book over to the elf. His eyes remained on Rose, and so he did not see Dobby notice the sock sticking out of the pages of the diary.

"Master has given Dobby clothes?" Dobby looked up, his large eyes watering. "Dobby is free?"

Malfoy looked down, and saw the sock. Looking back at Rose, he saw her smile at his utter rage. How DARE she? He found himself thinking, once again. This girl had gone too far, now. He twisted the head of his cane.

"You've cost me my servant!" He hissed, angrily. His wand came out, the killing curse on his lips. Such was his rage that he forgot all about the free elf standing next to him.

A wave of force struck him then, sending him backwards. He did not go flying down the corridor, for he and Rose were side-by-side when he attacked. No, Dobby sent him directly into the stone walls of the corridor. Rose winced at the sickening crack of the man's shoulder.

"You shall not harm Rose Potter!" the elf shouted.

Her own wand out now, she stepped carefully toward the fallen wizard. "You should be more careful, Lord Malfoy." She kicked his wand away from his injured arm as she approached.

"Potter," he spat. "Someday you're going to come to a sticky end. Just like your mudblood of a mother." The venom in his voice was obvious, even as Rose discounted it. She knew where his loyalties truly were, or at least she did now. The man was in a great deal of pain, of course he'd call her mother a mudblood.

She wasn't going to take it personally. After all, her quarrell wasn't with Malfoy, but with his master. A man named Tom Riddle.

"Maybe," she said, leaning close. "Slytherin's monster certainly put in a good effort. I stabbed it in the head for its trouble." She placed a hand on his injured shoulder, leaning on it a little and smiling when he winced. "Now, that snake needed to be stopped, but I didn't really have any feelings about it one way or the other." She pressed harder, and brought her voice to a whisper, so that only the writhing man could hear.

"So what do you think I'd do if you really pissed me off?"

Malfoy's eyes met hers, and she was pleased to see what she expected - fear. Before he could say anything else, footsteps approached from the direction of the infirmary.

"I believe Lord Malfoy broke his collarbone, Madam Pomfrey," she said as the mediwitch came near. Snape helped her lead the now very quiet Lord Malfoy back to the infirmary. As she watched them go, Lord Hillyer walked up to her.

"A dangerous enemy to make, Rose." His tone showed he clearly approved.

"Perhaps," she replied. "Though the same could be said in reverse."

Hillyer nodded. "This is also true." he agreed.

She shrugged. "He walked in and attacked whomever he could. When he failed to move Dumbledore, he went after Ginny. When that failed, he went after me. He had no real plan, he just reacted." Rose smiled at her Proxy. "Whereas I had a plan from the start."

"The diary," Hillyer said.

Rose nodded. "And the sock." She chuckled, then. "Know thy enemy, Lord Hillyer." With that, she turned and walked back to the infirmary, a wide-eyed elf following in her wake.


A/N: As with much of this second year, Rose Potter is the gift that keeps on giving - as Lord Malfoy learned, to his dismay. That she can find ways to be both more subtle and more direct, and do both at the same time, just hammers home what a delight she is to write. Even after the day she's had - stunned, assaulted, injured, etc - she still had the presence of mind to get Percy on the #justiceforAstoria train.

Thank you for your continued feedback. Your reviews of the Basilisk sequence in particular really made my day - that was one that I worried about. Of course, so was this chapter, so we'll see. In any event, I'm thrilled that so many of you are reading and enjoying this story.

Feedback, as always, is welcome.