Winning the first match of the Quidditch season earned Harry the title of 'Hogwarts' Golden Boy.' While he seemed iffy about the attention, which he was already earning because of his legacy, he still seemed to be basking in the glory. If Harry believed that people were trying to get close to him before, because of his defeating the Dark Lord; it seemed as though people were flocking to him even more now. Mostly everyone at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry wanted to be Harry Potter's friend. Whether it was because they thought him a worthy friend, or simply because they wanted to be close to the Hero of Hogwarts, was unclear. Ron had taken a liking to turning his nose up at those seeking Harry's attention, as he was the first to earn the honor of being Harry Potter's best friend.

It was almost impossible for Harry, Ron, Aralynn, and Hermione to travel through the corridors without some sort of greeting being thrown at them. Or rather—at Harry.

"Hi, Harry!" said an eager Ravenclaw girl who none of them recognized.

"Wicked match, Harry," said Seamus Finnegan.

"Harry—want to study together in the Great Hall later?" asked a Hufflepuff boy, Ernie Macmillan.

Even elder Hogwarts students fought for Harry's attention. Though, they all figured it was perpetuated by the pro-Harry propaganda that Fred and George were promoting. The acclaim Harry was receiving was quite obviously irritating two people in particular: Draco Malfoy, and Severus Snape. Draco and Professor Snape were the first two people to show true disdain—even hatred—for Harry from the very beginning of the school term. They were outraged by the fact that the Potter boy had people fawning over his every step.

It seemed, perhaps because of such recognition, that Harry's marks in their Potions class were nothing but bleak. Maybe Harry wasn't the most skilled students when it came to Potions, but his three friends noticed that he was performing, at least, decently. Professor Snape was plainly singling the boy out due to his newfound, second bout of fame.

One afternoon, after their recent Potions class, the four were roaming the snow-sprinkled grounds. Harry seemed dismayed and his friends were doing everything they could to cheer him up. Professor Snape's prejudice was finally starting to affect him.

"Don't worry, Harry," cooed Hermione. "I'm sure Snape will find someone else to torment soon."

"Not soon enough," sighed Harry. "I'm going to fail Potions at this rate. Why does he hate me so much?"

None of them answered his question. None of them could answer his question. "Well, maybe he'll go in on Neville next. Aside from you and Hermione, Neville seems to be his favorite target," Ron offered.

"I dunno," Harry grumbled. "He hates me."

They were then unexpectedly met by Rubeus Hagrid. "'Oo hates you, Harry?"

"Snape," Harry answered.

"Poppycock!" shouted Hagrid. "Snape don' hate you."

"He does, though, Hagrid. I wish you could see how he treats me."

Hagrid shook his head ferociously. "Snape is a Hogwarts professor. He don' hate nobody. A professor can' be biased!"

"Snape is a bit cruel," Aralynn intervened, which she knew she had said to Hagrid before, months earlier. He, however, clearly hadn't retained that bit of information. "Particularly to Harry."

Hagrid scoffed. "What else makes ya think tha' Snape hates you?"

Harry thought. "During the first Quidditch match, he jinxed my broom."

"Nonsense!" Hagrid roared. "Why would Snape do summat like tha'?"

The black-haired boy shrugged. "Who knows. Why was he trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween?"

Hagrid startled, staring at the boy. "Three-headed dog? 'Oo told you bou' Fluffy?"

Aralynn raised her eyebrows. "Fluffy? That beast has a name?"

The half-giant looked offended by Aralynn referring to Fluffy as a 'beast'. "Well, o'course he's got a name! He's a good boy! He's mine!"

"Where on earth did you find a three-headed dog, Hagrid?" asked Hermione.

"I won 'im down at a pub last year. An Irish feller was giving 'im away. Raised 'im as me own," Hagrid explained. "Then I lent 'im to Dumbledore to guard the—"

"—Yes?" the four asked simultaneously.

Hagrid went silent and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Nevr'min! Not my business ter tell. Anyway, you four should stop yer thinkin' that Snape is doin' som'thin he shouldn't be!"

Harry huffed. "Hagrid, you must listen! Snape is after whatever Fluffy is guarding! I saw him the night the troll was at Hogwarts—his leg was bleeding, and the next day he was limping."

Hagrid sniffed dismissively. "Maybe 'ee tripped."

"Tripped?" Hermione laughed. She moved in front of them, standing her ground to the man. "Hagrid, I know a curse when I see one. When Harry's broom was acting all wonky, I saw Professor Snape in the stands, muttering something. You need to keep eye contact when you're performing a curse, and Snape wasn't blinking!"

Hagrid sighed loudly. "Listen ter me, you four. Yer meddlin' in things that ought not to be meddled in, ya hear? Now, what Fluffy is guardin' is none of yer business! It's strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!"

The children looked between each other, now knowing that they had a lead to follow. Hagrid, too, seemed to notice and went pale. "Forget I said that!" he shouted. "I should'n have!" The large man then quickly whisked himself away, quietly berating himself for not keeping his mouth shut when he should have.

Harry seemed confused. "Who is Nicolas Flamel?" he asked, looking over. "Hermione, d'you know?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't, but there's always the library!"

The four spent the next month searching every inch of the library. Unfortunately, each search was unsuccessful. They hadn't managed to find a single bit of information on anybody named Nicolas Flamel. They had hardly even noticed that Hogwarts had quickly become blanketed with snow. By the time Christmas break came around, they were feeling downtrodden. How were they ever going to figure out what Fluffy was guarding when they couldn't even find proof of Nicolas Flamel's existence? They likely wouldn't be able to search again until Christmas came and went.

It was the week before Christmas that their holiday break occurred. Most of the students were packing in preparation to return home. Hermione had spent much of that time talking about how much she missed her parents, and how she was glad to be able to see them again. When McGonagall had come around to collect the names of the students who would be returning home for holiday, Hermione had eagerly jumped to make sure that her name was on the list. Ron and Aralynn's names were not put on the list. They were meant to be, but instead, their parents decided to visit their elder brother, Charlie, in Romania. Harry also neglected to put his name on the list. Aralynn suspected that he wanted to avoid his family at all costs.

Just before those going home were to board the train, Hermione went looking for her friends. They were in the Great Hall. Aralynn was sitting by, watching Harry and Ron play Wizard's Chess. Ron, who was quite good at the game, was absolutely dominating Harry. Luckily, it was more of a teaching moment than any actual competition. Harry had been curious about the game, and so Ron decided to show him how to play it.

Hermione wandered over to them, lugging a large trunk along with her. "Why haven't you two packed?" she asked Ron and Aralynn.

Aralynn looked up. "Mum and Dad decided to visit Charlie in Romania. Regardless, I was going to stay so that Harry wouldn't be alone during his first Christmas at Hogwarts."

Ron nodded. "I would have stayed, too. Queen to E-5."

Hermione watched the chessboard as the piece moved to Harry's knight. The queen then stood from her chair and whacked the knight, breaking the piece in half. She gasped. "That's totally barbaric!"

Ron shrugged. "That's Wizard's Chess. Shouldn't you be leaving for the platform?"

Hermione huffed at him. "I will be in a moment. I stopped to say goodbye… and since you'll both be here for Christmas; you can help Harry search for Nicolas Flamel in the library."

Ron puffed. "We've already looked! More than once! He's not mentioned in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Discoveries!"

"Or Notable Magical Names of Our Time," Harry pointed out.

"Not even in Modern Magical Discoveries, or A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," sighed Aralynn.

Ron gestured to his sister. "See? Nowhere to be found. I don't even think the guy exists at this point."

"Hagrid wouldn't have said it if he didn't," Aralynn argued.

Harry shook his head. "Ara's right. Besides, I've read his name before, I just can't remember where."

"Well, that's not really helpful, Harry," grumbled Ron. He turned towards Hermione again. "There's nowhere else to look!"

Hermione smirked. "You haven't looked in the Restricted Section."

Aralynn gasped, putting a hand to her chest. "Hermione."

The brunette laughed. "I know, I know. At least I won't be here while you three are breaking the rules. Be careful, though. We need to find out who Flamel is, at least, before you're all expelled. Anyway, Happy Christmas."

They said their goodbyes to Hermione. Ron and Harry returned to their game with absolutely no intentions of looking for Nicolas Flamel again.

Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape came wandering into the Great Hall. Aralynn redirected her attention to the teachers, watching them speak. Or rather, watching them argue. Whatever they were talking about was surely heated. Aralynn tried her best to read their lips, but it wasn't a skill she had ever acquired. She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a clearer view, but Professor Snape noticed her spying. He turned his back to her, pulling Quirrell to face away from her as well. Suddenly, a sharp, burning sensation struck her scar. She hissed and placed her hand to her forehead.

Harry and Ron were drawn to her. "Are you okay, Ara?" asked Ron.

Harry was staring at her hand. "What are you doing?"

Aralynn then remembered that Harry hadn't found out about her identical scar. Panicked, she lied. "I have a headache."

Ron tilted his head. "D'you need to go to the infirmary?"

The girl shook her head. "No, I'm alright."

Harry, however, didn't seem to believe her. He was still staring at the placement of her hand on her forehead. He narrowed his eyes, clearly wondering what could be under her bangs, and why the action was so familiar to him. He was distracted when Ron overtook another one of his chess pieces.

Aralynn quickly withdrew her hand from her head. She wanted to get out of the Great Hall and try to get Harry to forget about what he had seen. She tapped her foot, trying to think of what could possibly work. She perked up. "Hey, let's visit Hagrid."

Ron grumbled. "We're playing a game right now, Ara."

She glared. "You can play it again later, Ronald."

"Let's finish first," he said, studying the placement of the pieces carefully.

Aralynn narrowed her eyes. She glared at him and stood up, swiping the red and white pieces off the board. "Oh, look at that. Game over. What a shame."

"Hey!" Ron growled. "What'd you do that for?!"

His sister smiled at him. "Hagrid's, anyone?"

Ron packed up his chess set. The boys followed Aralynn out of the castle. The world outside was blindingly bright. The ground was covered with a thick layer of snow, and the sun's light on the overwhelming whiteness made their eyes burn. They trudged downhill through the snow, heading to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the grounds. Smoke was rolling from his chimney and his dog, Fang, was sitting in the window. He began to bark when he noticed the children.

Aralynn approached Hagrid's door and knocked on it several times. He was trying to get Fang to quiet down when he opened the door. The corners of his beard perked up when he saw their faces. "Well, isn't this a surprise!"

They sauntered into Hagrid's house, discarded their winter protection, and settled in various seats around the small one-room building. Hagrid went over to the fire, tending to the kettle of tea he had brewing. "What are you three doin' here?" he asked. "Bored already, are ya?"

"Ask Aralynn," Ron said, still bitter. "It was her idea."

Hagrid's eyes welled with tears. He patted them away with his shirt. "Oh, really? You wanted ter see me, Aralynn?"

The girl grinned at the man. His emotions appeared to be getting the better of him, though she didn't know why. "Of course, Hagrid. I love visiting you. Why are you crying?"

Hagrid waved his hands erratically. "Oh, I just—it's been—I'm not used ter people wantin' ter visit me, tha's all."

Aralynn watched Hagrid thoughtfully, figuring that that wasn't what he actually wanted to say. Every time he saw her, he always seemed to start crying. Why did he feel so emotional around her? It was true that she hadn't recently been thinking about all the strange happenings that followed her when school began. The last she could remember thinking about was the connection she and Harry made when they were fighting off the troll. Frankly, she had been quite glad that so many questions weren't haunting her as of late. Now, however, she was thinking of them again. Why was a connection made between Harry and her? Why did Hagrid always cry when she was around? Why did she feel like part of her was fading when Harry was nearly thrown from his broom? Why did she feel like she was missing something? Why did she feel like she was incomplete?

The days following up to Christmas Eve were spent mostly in the library. Aralynn had had to convince Ron and Harry to continue searching for Flamel, much to their chagrin. The remaining faculty and students seemed to think that the three were barking mad to be spending their days, and evenings, (what they believed) studying. Aralynn had been so distracted by discovering who Nicolas Flamel was, that she hadn't taken a moment to slow down and absorb her surroundings. One afternoon, while eating lunch in the Great Hall, she decided something—nothing was quite as beautiful as Hogwarts during Christmas.

Twelve massive snow-covered fir trees lined the perimeter of the hall, which were decorated with bulging, colored bulbs, pulsing lights, and large stars sitting atop the trees' peaks. Above head were several strings of twinkling golden lights; crisscrossed multicolored streamers of garland, tinsel, holly, and mistletoe. The windows clouded over with frost, and the ceiling had been enchanted to sprinkle down flakes of snow—though warm and dry. Wreaths and jingling bells sat on the walls between the windows. The long tables held centerpieces of cookies, candies, and small reindeer figurines. It was absolutely breathtaking.

Aralynn picked at her food, listening to the sound of Harry and Ron conversing, but not actually honing in. She was happily munching on a pumpkin pasty. It was only when Ron elbowed her, did she look over. "What's that?"

"I was telling Ron that we should look for any writings on Nicolas Flamel in the Restricted Section after Christmas. Perhaps even Christmas night. What d'you think?"

"I think it's a terrible idea," interrupted Ron. "I thought things would relax with Hermione gone, but you two are going to kill me! I want to enjoy my holiday!"

Aralynn glanced between the boys, but decidedly ignored Ron. Harry did, too. "Sure," she said. "We can do that, but how are we going to get around the castle unnoticed?"

Harry shook his head. "We'll figure something out."

Ron sighed, knowing that he was trying to fight a losing battle, and instead forfeited. "We could look into some spells to turn us invisible or something."

The opposite boy furrowed his eyebrows. "Does such a spell exist?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno."

"Hermione would be the one to ask," Aralynn said to them.

"Or you," Harry pointed out.

Aralynn cocked an eyebrow. "Why me?"

"You're just as smart as Hermione is, Ara. You two are elbow-to-elbow for the top of our class."

"We are?"

Ron blinked at her. "Didn't you know that?"

Aralynn hesitated. "Ah… no, I didn't. I guess I've been a bit distracted lately."

"Why is that?" asked Harry. He seemed genuinely concerned.

Where could she begin? Could she start by telling them that people had been acting very odd around her? Could she start by telling them that she felt unnaturally drawn to Harry? Could she tell them that she felt like something about her was false? Truthfully, what could she really say? If she were honest, they would think that she was a complete nutter.

She wanted to shout: "I feel like my life is a lie!"

Instead, she thought of an excuse. "Exams," she lied. "I've been worried about exams."

Harry took it on word, but Ron didn't look so convinced. Before he could say anything, Aralynn had abruptly stood. "Best get back to the library. We need to continue scouring through as many books as we can before nightfall."

The boys followed Aralynn back to the library. They split apart, all looking through different sections of the room since there was so much ground to cover. Aralynn was shuffling through one of the shelves when she came across a small, tattered book. She picked it up, studying the cover, which read: The Tales of Beedle the Bard. She remembered that her mother would read the stories inside to her and Ron when they were younger. The Warlock's Hairy Heart had been her favorite short from the book.

She took the book to the table, flipping through it. She smiled slightly, hearing the words in her mother's voice when she glanced over them. Sometimes she found herself wishing that she could be five again, fervently listening as Molly Weasley read the youngest pair of twins to sleep. She stopped flipping the pages, pausing on a story that she didn't recognize. The Tale of the Three Brothers. She combed through her memories, but not a single instance where her mother read this story aloud came to mind. At the top righthand corner of the page was a hand-drawn symbol—a triangle, with a straight line down the middle, and a circle inside of the shape. She traced her finger over the drawing, trying to discern why she felt that she had seen it before. She flicked her eyes back to the words, reading over the story.

She must have read it almost one hundred times.

It felt so familiar, but she didn't know why.

Christmas Eve into Christmas morning was sleepless for Aralynn. She spent the entire night, alone in her dormitory, sitting in the sill of the window closest to her bed. She spent the night staring out the window, watching the snow falling lazily from the sky. The cold biting at her feet didn't seem to bother her much. If it did, she did nothing about it. She was too deep in her own thoughts to be pulled out of them. She wanted to find someone who had answers that they could give her. She wanted to march straight up to her mother and ask why she felt like she was an imposter. She wouldn't have even known that it was morning if Harry and Ron hadn't gone stomping excitedly into the Common Room.

Aralynn tore herself away from the window to meet the boys downstairs. She was standing near the steps when they shared holiday greetings. They didn't seem to notice that she was there.

"Have you opened your presents?" asked Harry.

"No," answered Ron, as though it should have been obvious. "I was waiting so that we could open them together."

Harry looked confused. "I got presents?"

"'Course!" exclaimed Ron. "What'd you expect? Turnips?"

"Well, I… I've never really gotten Christmas presents before."

Ron shrugged. "Now you have!"

Harry went to open them but paused. "Where's Ara?"

"Here," Aralynn announced, walking over to the Christmas tree.

"C'mon," Harry ushered. "Let's open them together."

Aralynn took her presents and sat on the couch with them. She didn't bother touching them while Ron and Harry opened theirs. When Ron opened the parcel addressed from their mother, he immediately frowned at the hand-knitted sweater from his mother. "I hate maroon," he sighed.

"Just put it on," Aralynn said. "She puts a lot of work into those sweaters."

"Mum always knits us a sweater and makes us fudge," Ron told Harry while he pulled it over his head. "Oh, look. Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans from Hermione."

Harry began to open his presents. The first opened was from Hagrid—a rather ugly hand-carved flute. Clearly, Hagrid had done it himself. The next was from his aunt and uncle; a fifty-pence piece. Though, Harry didn't seem to care for it very much, as he gave it to Ron when he expressed his fascination. The next present was from Mrs. Weasley.

"Ron – Ara, look!" he hollered. "It's from your mum!"

"She must like you," Aralynn pointed out.

Harry pulled out the emerald sweater and box of fudge. The sweater had his first initial on it. He pulled the sweater over his head, setting aside the box of Chocolate Frogs that Hermione had gifted him.

Ron almost squealed when he opened his present from Aralynn. "An autographed photo of Galvin Gudgeon!" he shouted. "How—where!?"

Aralynn offered a halfhearted grin. "It's a secret."

"Secret Strategies for Wizard's Chess Domination," Harry read aloud, holding a book in his hands. He turned toward Aralynn and gleamed at her. "Thank you!"

She nodded. "You're welcome, Harry."

"You haven't opened any of your presents!" Ron remarked. "Why not?"

Aralynn shrugged, beginning to open them just to appease Ron. She pulled the purple sweater from her mother over her head immediately after opening it. She set the box of fudge aside. Hermione had gotten her a book of advanced spells. Hagrid had given her a book about magical plants. The last present was from Ron—a handmade silver necklace with a turquoise pendant. It was quite beautiful. She smiled and latched it around her neck.

Harry was looking embarrassed. "I didn't get you guys anything."

"That's okay!" Ron assured. "Next year."

Harry nodded at Ron. He eyed Aralynn for a long moment, noticing that she looked rather dejected. "Are you okay?"

Aralynn forced her expression into happiness. "Yes," she answered. "You've still got one present left, Harry."

"Oh, I do." He opened the parcel, pulling from the wrapping a silky, billowing cloak of silver. He ran his fingers over it, noting how soft it was.

"No way!"

Harry startled. "What, Ron?"

"Is that? –It is!"

Harry stared wide-eyed at him. "What?!"

"That's an invisibility cloak, Harry! They're incredibly rare!"

Aralynn watched as Harry wrapped the cloak around himself. His body subsequently disappeared, and he was left as nothing more than a floating head. "Look in the mirror," she told him.

He moved in front of the mirror, gawking at his lack of body in the reflection. He pulled the cloak over his head and watched his entire being vanish. "Amazing!" he said from under the cloth. "Who would have given me this?"

Aralynn picked up the note that had fallen from it. "Whoever wrote this," she said.

Harry removed the cloak and set it off to the side. He took the note and read aloud: "'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.'"

"Is it signed?" asked Ron.

He flipped the note back and forth. "No."

"An anonymous gift-giver," said Aralynn. "How mysterious."

"Do you think this really belonged to my father?"

"I don't know why they would have said it did if it didn't," Aralynn told him.

"Fair point."

"Hey!" Ron burst. "Harry, you could use that to get into the restricted section of the library! Nobody would ever know that you were there. Not even Mrs. Norris could rat you out."

"Brilliant, Ron," beamed Harry. "I'll do it tonight."

After lunch, the three went outside to enjoy the snow. Harry and Ron were having a snowball fight while Aralynn sat on the base of the fountain, feeding dead voles to Amete, who was perched on her knee. Hedwig was sitting on her left shoulder, watching her owner being pelted by enchanted balls of snow. The boys had frequently asked Aralynn if she wanted to join, but she admittedly wasn't feeling particularly festive that afternoon. Amete hopped over to Hedwig, offering her last vole to Harry's owl. Hedwig took the vole and gratefully brushed her beak along Amete's head. Amete then fluttered to Aralynn's opposite shoulder, affectionately nibbling on the girl's hair. Fred, George, and Percy passed by. The twins had enchanted a few snowballs to stalk after Percy, occasionally hitting him in the back of the head; to which he expressed great frustration.

The twin boys observed that their younger sister was looking rather somber. They abandoned their post of torment and blundered over to her. They flopped down on either side of her and began incessantly poking her. They were obviously trying to get a smile out of her.

"What's wrong, Flame Brain?" asked Fred.

"Flames in your brain?" added George with a snigger.

Aralynn, however, did not smile. It was something they were quite unaccustomed to. "No flames this time."

The boys frowned. At the same time, they asked: "What is it?"

Perhaps she could confide in them. Perhaps she couldn't. "D'you ever feel like there's something about you that… isn't right?"

The boys looked confused.

"Lately I've been feeling like there's something off about me. Like there's something that's missing, or something I'm not realizing. I've been getting these feelings in waves since the term started, but I can't seem to shake it nowadays."

Fred cocked his head. "Can't say I've ever really felt like I was wrong."

George itched his scalp. "We've felt different, sure, but I reckon that's because we're goofballs."

"Is it something like that?" asked Fred.

Aralynn sighed. "No."

"Maybe it's just because you're unique," offered George.

Aralynn puffed. "Unique? Don't make me laugh."

"Well, we'd want to make you laugh," Fred told her.

George added, "but only humorously."

Fred wrapped an arm around his sister and pulled her close. "In any case, you are unique, Gingerbread Head. You're probably the kindest person that we know. You're always fighting for people to be treated equally."

The other twin nodded. "You refuse to put up with any lousy sod trying to bully you."

"You're wicked sharp," Fred told her. "You're just having a hard time right now."

"Don't forget that you've got a brutal left hook," laughed George. "C'mon, Ara. Feel better. It's going to get easier."

The boys stood, kissed her atop the head, and shuffled back to harassing Percy. Aralynn watched them go, feeling a little lighter than she had before. She exhaled slowly, smiling softly. Fred and George always knew how to make her feel at least a little better.

Hedwig flew from Aralynn's shoulder and headed back to the owlery. Amete followed suit. Once the owls disappeared, Aralynn stood and went over to the boys. Her nose and cheeks were scarlet. "Let's go inside. It's freezing out here, and supper will be starting soon."

They waddled inside, allowing the warmth from the castle to melt away the layers of frost that had developed after hours spent in the frigid weather. They discarded their outdoor attire and headed into the Great Hall. They sat at the Gryffindor table, and were soon joined by Fred, George, and Percy. Moments later, the feast appeared before them.

Ron was double-fisting legs of roast chicken. Fred and George were flicking cherry tomatoes at each other. Percy was trying his best to avoid the crossfire. Harry was laughing and seemed to be enjoying himself the most. He had earlier explained that this was the best Christmas he had ever experienced. He told them about the horrible things his aunt and uncle would do. They, admittedly, felt bad for him. Though, it only further fueled their desire to give him the best Christmas experience possible. Fred and George even took to flicking tomatoes at Harry, as well.

Through mouthfuls of chicken, Ron asked Harry what his plan was for visiting the Restricted Section of the library. Harry proceeded to tell him that he would simply sneak out after curfew with the invisibility cloak on, bypass the rope closing off the section, and search through the books for any sign of Nicolas Flamel's name. Afterward, Ron felt it was such a simple plan that he felt foolish for asking.

During dinner, Fred and George thought up alternate personas for themselves named 'Gred and Forge'. Percy took to frequently reminding them how annoying they were. They simply took the comments in stride and reacted to them as though they were compliments.

Once their bellies were full and their eyes were heavy, they sauntered back to the Common Room, to their dormitories, and straight into their beds. Aralynn, having been behind the group, stayed back in the Common Room unnoticed. She sat on the couch and waited for Harry to come down when he figured the time was right for his adventure to the library.

Harry came down at about midnight. He had the cloak draped over his arm and was passing through the Common Room when he jumped nearly five feet in the air. He hadn't expected to see Aralynn there—let alone Aralynn sitting perfectly still and silent on one of the couches. He pressed his palm over his palpitating heart.

"Ara, you scared me half to death!"

Aralynn eyed him. "Sorry about that. Wasn't my intention."

He shook his head. "What are you doing awake? Didn't you go to your dormitory?"

"I didn't," she answered. "I've been down here the whole time."

"Why?"

"I was waiting for you. I wanted to make sure that you came and went alright."

Harry shifted. "You don't have to wait up for me."

Aralynn shrugged. "Might as well."

"Well, I'll be back," he told her. "Hopefully before one. If I'm not back by then… I dunno. Assume I've been expelled."

Aralynn raised an eyebrow. "I'll do that."

Harry waved to her, threw the cloak over his body, and left the Common Room.

While waiting for Harry, Aralynn paced around the room; doing the best that she could to distract herself. The questions were back again, probing her brain without rest. She wanted them to go away, but she knew that the only way that would happen was if she finally had answers. She didn't suspect she would be getting those anytime soon. She spent time cycling between pacing the room and sitting on the couch when her legs grew tired. At some point, she must have fallen asleep when she was resting her legs. The same dream she had been having on and off came again. The flash of blinding green light; the woman screaming, but this time, more.

Underneath the screaming, very quietly, she could hear the same woman whispering something. It grew louder, but still a whisper, until she could hear it.

"You are so loved."

A slam sounded. Aralynn lurched awake. Harry was taking off the invisibility cloak. The clock read that it was half past two o'clock. The girl sat upright. "Where in the bloody hell have you been?!"

Harry was surprised to see that she was still there. "I got caught up."

"Doing what?"

Harry bit his lip. "I found this mirror," he explained. "I saw my parents in it."

Aralynn stared at him. "Your parents?"

"They were standing behind me. Well, my whole family was. Family that I've never known, of course. Family that I'll never know. I want to show Ron… and you, of course."

Perhaps the mirror shows what we need to see, Aralynn thought.

"I'm gonna go to bed," she told him. "Go on and get Ron, though."

Aralynn followed the staircase to the girls' dormitory. She lingered in the hall, sitting on the top stair, and listened while Harry came down with Ron—listened while there was silence—and listened when the boys came back. Once she heard snoring from their dorm, she snuck up the stairs (which, oddly enough, unlike the girls', weren't enchanted to disallow passage), and tiptoed into Harry and Ron's dormitory. They were both sound asleep. Ron was snoring louder than the mountain troll had grunted.

She moved stealthily to Harry's trunk, opened it, and pulled the invisibility cloak from it. She mouthed a silent apology to the sleeping boy. She exited the room, put the cloak on, and went bolting through the corridors. She followed the path Harry had told Ron where the mirror was located. She closed the door to the empty classroom behind her. She pulled the cloak off her body and crept up to the mirror.

It was large and quite old. It had massive, clawed feet and golden trim. There was something carved along the trim of the mirror that Aralynn couldn't read. She sucked a deep breath into her lungs and held it.

This is it, she thought. The moment of truth.

Aralynn stepped forward, properly before the mirror. She looked in at her reflection, but for a moment, saw nothing else. She was frowning when she saw shapes appearing in the mirror. Once they had fully formed, Aralynn studied them. They were outlines. Shapes of two people standing behind her, and someone a bit taller than her standing beside her.

They had no faces—no features. They were mere blank shadows standing in the mirror with her. The mirror was not an answer for her. It was but another question.

Aralynn's knees buckled beneath her. She collapsed. The girl leaned forward, pressing her forehead into the cold stone floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage. She smacked the floor with her hands several times, beginning to heave. Booming, heavy sobs were escaping her now. She couldn't make them stop.

She stood and looked into the mirror again. The outlines reappeared. Instead, she focused on her reddening face, and the tears that poured onto her cheeks. She smacked the mirror's glass. "WHO ARE YOU?" she screamed so desperately that her throat went raw.

She balled her hair in her hands.

"Who am I?"