Hey guys! Time for the last chapter of the Prisoner of Azkaban segment of the story. Thanks again for continuing to read, and I can't wait to show you guys what I have for Goblet of Fire!

(Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.)

Chapter 33:

Does the Puzzle Come Together

"GINNY: I think I've got the answer to that.
They all turn to her. She points up . . . Their collective faces sink further and fill with fear.
Words are revealed on all the walls of the auditorium — dangerous words, horrible words.
'I will rebirth the Dark. I will bring my father back.'
RON: No. She can't . . .
HERMIONE: How is it even — possible?
DRACO: Voldemort had a daughter?
They look up, terrified. GINNY takes HARRY's hand.
HARRY: No, no, no. Not that. Anything but that.
Cut to black."

"So when are you going to play that prank on Molly?" Crabbe asked Draco the next morning in the common room.

"What prank?" Draco asked, his mind still cloudy from what he had seen the night before.

"The one you were telling us about," Goyle chimed in, sitting down on the couch next to Draco. "The one with the...uh, de-men-tors."

He tapped the word out on his fingers.

Now Draco remembered. "Oh, yeah," he said. "That prank. Are you sure that's really nice right now?"

"No, idiot," Crabbe said. "That's the point."

"Oh, you're calling me an idiot?" Draco said, a fake laugh in his voice. "That's rich. Besides, I told you we were doing it to Harry first."

"Well, maybe we can do both," Goyle said.

"Kill two birds with one stone," Crabbe picked up. "She'll be at the...Quid-ditch game."

He also tapped the word out.

"I don't know," Draco said. "I mean, she seems like a nice girl."

"But you said they know about something," Goyle said. "Something important."

"Something you wouldn't even tell us," Crabbe said, almost bitter.

"Well, that's a non-issue at this point," Draco said.

"Think about it," Goyle said, getting up from his seat, Crabbe following him. "Your father has been so proud of you recently."

"Hate to see that go to waste this year," Crabbe said.

"I'm sure one little prank wouldn't hurt his love for you, would it?" Goyle said. He opened the door, and he and Crabbe walked through.

Draco was alone. After last night, he thought...what motive could he possibly have?

Suddenly, he heard something against the window. He looked to see a small rock, with a folded note tied to it.

He ran to the window and opened it up. Inside, a scrawling handwriting Draco didn't recognize read:

Draco,
You don't know me, but I certainly know you.

Not creepy at all, Draco thought.

You must remember who you are...where you come from. Those children are Muggleborns - Mudbloods of the worst kind. And there's a secret that surrounds them. Have you ever wondered about the books they bring, the stories they tell of their home, their incredibly strange accent?

They do have a weird accent, Draco thought.

You are the only one who can figure them out. I'll help you some of the way, but you must work to uncover the secrets they wish to keep from you. Imagine how proud your father will be - his own son, truly a Malfoy at last.
Sincerely,
D.D.

Draco tried to think of anyone with the initials "D.D.," but his mind came up short. It was too focused on what the letter had told him.

They were Muggleborns - at least, Draco thought they were. Only a few of them were Slytherins, and the rest were from other houses - some even from Gryffindor. He knew that Fred belonged there - the Malfoys and the Weasleys had been rivals since practically the dawn of time - but the others were suspicious.

And yet he couldn't help feeling drawn to them and their mystery, almost as if he was a part of their group, a puzzle piece thrown in the wrong box that finally found where it belonged. So what was the truth?

He knew he needed to figure out this secret - it intrigued him too much for him to simply let it go. But once he did, maybe he could find some way to be a part of their world. Somehow.

A door opened behind him, shaking him from his reverie. "Draco, come on," Ava said, dressed in her finest Slytherin jersey, with pom-poms dangling from her hand. "It's almost time for the Quidditch game."

"Right," Draco said. "I'll be there."

She nodded and walked out of the common room, leaving Draco alone with his dangerous mind.

Molly had never been a huge fan of Quidditch. Or any sport, just in general. But for some reason, there she was, sitting in the bleachers in the freezing cold. She was huddled up between Fred and Mackenzie, watching Harry soar over the field, desperately wishing she was in The Land of Stories.

Madison, solidified, was sitting behind her. "So that makes it all make sense. My mom was related to Voldemort in some way, and that's why I can speak Parseltongue. And we got a clue about the person's identity, too - the one who's been sending us here."

"Really?" Molly said. "What was it?"

"The Carrows came to kill my parents, and they said that their daughter - me - was important to their master's plan, and she will not be disobeyed."

"So it's a she," Mackenzie said. "Good to know."

"I had made a list of all the people we had mentioned, back in second year," Madison said, handing Molly a piece of parchment paper. "Now that we know it's a girl, that limits it to Hannah, Luna, maybe Romilda, or that Delphi person."

"I can't imagine it would be Luna," Fred said.

Mackenzie smiled. "That's what I said!" she responded, as though finally someone agreed with her.

"Unless there's some purpose for it," Molly said. "Maybe a group of Americans will be the first ones to finally uncover the breeding grounds of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Madison stifled a giggle.

"Well, I've had enough of this game," Molly said. "I'm going to head up to my room and try to make up some of the homework I missed when I was sick."

"Sounds good," Mackenzie said.

Molly stood up and squeezed through the aisles of people watching the game from the edges of their seats. She got to the stairs and skipped down them, then turned the corner towards the school.

All of a sudden, and without the familiar cold sensation she knew, a black, hooded figure swooped down in front of her.

A Dementor, she thought. She drew her wand, her head clearer than ever before. "Expecto -"

"Stupefy," a small voice said.

Molly stopped. "What?"

"Stupefy," it said again. Then the figure lifted its hood - it was Draco. "Pretend you're unconscious."

Molly was confused, but she shrugged an "okay" and flopped on the dewy ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Draco danced into the courtyard and ran up to the grass, directly below Harry.

Oh, Molly thought. It's THAT Quidditch game.

But she couldn't figure out why Draco had come over to her first. Unless it was a part of that whole prank thing that she and Mackenzie had Zoë and Ava force-feed to him. I really have to watch The Office now, she thought.

She couldn't remember how long she lay there - probably ten, fifteen minutes. She watched the game end, the Snitch be caught, a ghost-like stag gallop through the sky. Finally, she saw Draco, his hood down, walking toward her. He offered a hand.

"Meet me at the entrance to the Slytherin common room," he said. "9:30."

And then he left, leaving Molly even more confused.

Molly arrived at the door at 9:29, her wand drawn, her face unsure. She stood for a second, then decided to knock. She held up her hand to knock, then looked away.

"Just knock," she said to herself. "Don't be pathetic."

She went to knock again, but this time she felt someone grab onto her hip, throw her off balance, push her to the side of the hallway.

"Okay, listen," the person said. Molly turned to see Draco's pale face staring her in the eye. "Crabbe and Goyle have put me up to prank you with a Dementor costume, or a bunch of Dementor statues, or something."

"Okay," Molly said.

"So you have to pretend like you're actually scared of me," he said. "Even to your group of friends."

"Okay," Molly said.

"And I'll do a lot of terrible things, or at least pretend to," he said. "But you can't fight back."

"Okay," Molly said.

"I bet you're wondering what you'll get out of this," Draco said.

"Okay," Molly said.

"The offer: you let me join your group of friends. You get to hang out with me, you get to use me to figure out your whole time confusion thing."

"Okay," Molly said.

"And - wait, you said -"

"Okay," Molly said.

"Okay," Draco responded. "You're going to do what I just said?"

"Okay," Molly said.

"Great," Draco said, breathing a sigh of relief. "So I guess we're done here."

"Okay," Molly said. She shrugged, gave a little smile.

Draco gave her a thumbs up. "I'll be right back - it would probably be good if we pretended I played the prank, so pretend to be unconscious. I'll be back in a bit to Rennervate you, so just pretend like you're scared of me and run away."

"Okay," Molly said. "I've always wanted to get better at acting."

Draco nodded and rushed through the door. Molly sprawled herself out on the hallway floor, her face pressed against the cold marble. It actually wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as she'd imagined.

A minute or two later, Draco burst through the door. "Rennervate!" he called, pointing his wand at her.

She felt the light hit her, and all of a sudden, she had more energy than she could ever remember. She jumped to her feet and looked at Draco with fire in her eyes.

"You think you can scare me half to death like that and not even blink an eye?" she said. "You think you can walk all over me and I'll take it lying down? Well, I won't have it. Good day to you and your cronies! I know when I've been insulted!"

And she ran away, leaving Draco in her wake.

"Did you understand a word she said?" he asked.

"Nope," Crabbe said.

"Too fast," Goyle said.

"That's what I thought," Draco said.

The rest of the year was similar to the beginning. The constant threat of - well, not Sirius Black anymore, now that Molly knew the truth - but the dementors themselves - it was enough to keep anyone up at night.

She flew through her finals. The hardest part was the practical part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts test - although once Molly logically concluded that there was no way Professor Lupin would bring an actual Dementor into the exam, and therefore the creature she was presently facing was, in fact, a Boggart, she had no trouble getting through.

She thought long and hard about the Muggle Studies prompt, which she had received at the beginning of the year. She finally decided on a third option:

"In my opinion, ten wands versus one gun is a pretty fair fight. The more ordinary people in this world have more power than we think, and the extraordinary take their need to be extraordinary a little too far. One example can be seen in the 1972 musical Pippin, written by Stephen Schwartz and directed by Bob Fosse. The titular character is a young man with an extraordinary mind, trying to find the thing that fulfills him the most - only when he finds it, it's in the most ordinary of places, and he has to learn to compromise his enormous aspirations. A parallel can be drawn between this character and many wizard supremacists. Although Pippin learns to be happy with the simple joys of life and love, he starts out believing that the only path to true greatness is through extraordinary minds and pursuits. Many wizards feel the same way, thinking about the Muggle world - of which they are still a part - as though it were a land of peasants and idiots, when in actuality, there are some very smart Muggles who, although they don't necessarily have the power of magic, have the power of a clear and open mind…"

Needless to say, she had a lot of fun writing her essay.

On the last day of the term, she met with Fred in his room.

"How far have you gotten?" she asked.

"I finished them a week or two ago," he said. "It's...weird."

Molly nodded, smiling. Then her face grew somber.

"Are you...okay with this?" she asked. "I mean, if there's anything Cursed Child taught us, it's that the past can actually be changed."

"And if there's anything Cursed Child taught us, it's that it shouldn't be," Fred said.

"But - Cedric's death was motivation. Part of a prophecy. The first death in a long war - it made history," Molly said. "Or at least it will. But you…it's just senseless. It doesn't need to be there. It serves no dramatic purpose. It's only to make the audience cry."

"And cry they did, apparently," Fred said.

"But - there are ways," she said. "To change it. Hide you in a common room, put out the Fiendfyre and go to the Room of Requirement. If someone was willing, we could even make Polyjuice Potion - add a little acting and we're golden -"

"Molly," Fred said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She pulled in her breath.

"You're positive?" she said.

He nodded. She nodded back, looking away.

Then she hugged him.

"Jeez," he said. "I'm not dead yet." Then he hugged her back.

"Fred?"

The two of them turned to see George standing in the doorway. A slow smile grew over his face.

"My God, Fred, I thought it'd never happen," he said, chuckling. "You've got yourself a girlfriend!"

"What?" Molly said. "I mean -"

"You caught us," Fred said.

"I did?" George said.

"He did?" Molly said quietly.

Fred gave Molly a look that explained everything, then turned to George. "Yes," he said. "You did. Guilty as charged."

George looked like he was about to burst. "Last year, it was Percy and Penelope - now it's this! Ladies and gentlemen, I am good at this!"

He walked away before anyone could say a word.

Molly turned to Fred. "Well, add that to the list of lies we'll have to keep up for four more years."

He burst out laughing. "I panicked! I never panic - how did that happen!"

"I don't know," Molly said, laughing almost as much as Fred. Suddenly, she had an idea. "What if you come with us?"

"What?" Fred said.

"Yeah," Molly said. "You can come with us, back to the future, and we can show you around. So that you don't miss out on the modern world."

"But wouldn't they miss me at home?" Fred asked.

"It's not like time would even progress the same," Molly said. "It's like a train line. If we all get off at the first stop, we can hang out and have fun. Then you can get right back on at the first stop, and the rest of us can take a drive and meet you at the end." She took a breath. "In this metaphor, the first stop is June, the end is September, and the hang out spot is the summer of 2017."

"I don't know how I understand that, but I do," Fred said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "This could be fun."

Molly sat down on the train, across from Stella.

"I still never figured out what's up with that letter to Lin that you wrote, and that hair that I found on my suitcase," she said. "And I had to read Cursed Child on top of all of it."

"Wait, you read Cursed Child?" Stella said.

"Never mind," Molly responded, preoccupied. "And now, at least one student not only knows that we're from the future, but also knows that he's going to die in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"And he has to pretend to be your boyfriend for four years," Fred said, next to Molly.

She looked over at Fred and sighed. "I don't know what to do."

"Just keep on doing what you have been doing," a voice said, poking into the compartment. It was Mackenzie. "Mind if I sit with you guys? Jonah's here, too."

"Fine with me," Molly said, and they came in. "It's just annoying. Madison was able to figure everything out - why can't I?"

"Your case is difficult," Stella said. "It needs patience."

"So how about we go over all the clues again?" Jonah said. "We know that whoever our culprit is has a Time-Turner, has really nice handwriting, can Apparate really easily, and has either blonde or white hair."

"I still don't know anyone who matches all of those," Mackenzie said. "How do we figure this out?"

"Hmm…" Molly thought. The Time-Turner, the blonde hair, the ability to Apparate...it all had to lead to something, but she couldn't figure out what.

She looked up at Stella, suddenly seeing another hair on her friend's outfit. Carefully, she plucked it off.

"Thanks," Stella said. "I haven't worn this since coming back from Christmas break, so I've never gotten to clean it."

"It's fine," Molly said, looking at the hair. It was light in color, but not natural - it looked almost blue.

Blue…

"Wait...you said you wore this coming back from Christmas?" Molly asked. "So you wore this while time-traveling?"

"Yeah," Stella said. "I don't understand why that's important."

"It is…" Molly said. "So we have one light blonde hair and one blue hair, and we have someone that possesses a Time-Turner...guys, there's only one person this could be."

"Who is it?" Fred said.

"Guys...it's Delphi," Molly said.

Stella's eyes widened. "WHAT THE -"

Thanks for reading! Well, now that the cat's out of the bag, let's dive into the behind-the-magic fun facts!

1) On a structural note: this chapter was actually supposed to be two, splitting after the scene at the Slytherin common room - but then I realized the chapter works together as one unit, and each chapter was too short to justify them being separate. It was also waaaaay too obvious with the "D.D." initials, so I thought it would be better to let that be a little five-second foreshadowing in the chapter where the reveal actually happens.

2) The chapter title is a line from a song from the musical Next to Normal, which is a great musical you should listen to right now.

3) Our first quote from Cursed Child...for pretty obvious reasons.

4) The "don't be pathetic" line is a reference to the musical Matilda, which is a great musical you should listen to right now. I actually was in this musical last October, and it's still one of the greatest experiences of my life.

5) The essay Molly writes very clearly references the musical Pippin, which is a great musical you should listen to right now. (There's a pattern here.) I was going to be in this, with a lot of the same people as Matilda, but then the world went crazy, and it's postponed until at least next year. So fingers crossed I get to do that at some point.

6) How better to end this part of the story than by cutting off Stella's cursing?

Feel free to review, but please no negative reviews or cursing. (And please, NOTHING POLITICAL!) Thanks!