The day of our first Hogsmeade visit, I wake just as the sun is rising. I stand at the window, watching the sky change colors and listening to the gentle sound of Rowan's snoring. The air is cool, and already clouds are forming on the horizon. It will rain again today. I only hope that the showers hold off long enough for us to visit Hogsmeade.

If we visit Hogsmeade, I remind myself. I haven't asked Penny yet if she wants to go. If she doesn't, I'll stay behind with her. She shouldn't be left alone, not so soon after the boggart, and not when she hates it so much. I haven't told anyone else about Scarlett. That's Penny's secret to share.

Alana hasn't spoken much to me or Rowan since she got into the Frog Choir. She spends most of her time hanging out with two other choir kids, Sebastian Rogers and Natalie Cook. The three of them practice their singing anywhere and anytime they can. They're very devoted. While that's certainly a good thing, it doesn't leave Alana much time for her other friends. Like me.

I try to feel happy for Alana, but it feels like my friends are all drifting away from me. Nola and I have lost the closeness we once had. Penny didn't trust me enough to confide in me about Scarlett. I can't help Ben with his fears, and I feel like I'm always disappointing someone, no matter what I do. Even Bill and Rowan have less time to talk to me, since they're studying for Bill's OWLs. Rowan has wanted to get closer to Bill for years, but she was always too nervous to talk to him. Why do I resent my friends' happiness? Why does everything have to change?

Stop it. You're being selfish, I tell myself. I kneel beside my trunk, searching for the books I need today, before remembering it's the weekend. There are no classes today.

I hesitate, and then pull out Jacob's journal and wand. Without thinking, I rub my thumb along the wood again. Near the handle, ridges have formed. I press my thumb against them, and examine the indent they leave in my skin. Rowan told me that a wand will change along with its owner, and develop different designs to reflect personality and skills. Could these ridges give me a clue to Jacob's disappearance?

I examine the wand again, and I see… a mess of wavy lines. There's no help to be had there.

I sigh in disappointment and tuck the wand away. I climb back into my bed, taking the journal with me. I flip through the pages once again, searching for some meaning in the drawings. An ornate keyhole, an empty portrait frame, a wing that looks like it might belong to a dragon… There are so many images, and I have no idea what they could possibly mean. Why did Jacob draw these things? What is he trying to tell me?

I give up on decoding the mysterious images and return the journal to its hiding place. My roommates are beginning to stir. Badeea wakes up first, but she doesn't get up immediately. She just rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling with a peaceful expression on her face. If her eyes weren't open, I would think she was still asleep.

I gather my robes and walk into the changing room. When I come back out, Rowan is awake. I wait for her to change into her robes, and then we walk down to breakfast together.

"There's something I need to ask Penny," I tell her when we reach the Great Hall. Rowan nods and continues to the Ravenclaw table alone, while I veer off in the direction of the Hufflepuff table.

Penny and Tonks are engaged in an animated discussion about Zonko's. I'm glad to see Penny looking more like her old self, but a closer look shows that she still looks tired and sadder than before. It will take a long time for the pain of Scarlett's death to fade away, and some of it will stay with her forever.

Penny spots me. "Celena! Hi!"

Tonks turns around, with a wide grin on her face. She has a satisfied look on her face at all of the mayhem she'll be able to unleash when we return from Hogsmeade. She and Penny scoot over to make room on the bench between them. I slip into the open seat. There's no rule that says we can't sit at another house's table. Even if there was, I would probably ignore it. I've broken much bigger rules already.

"Don't go too big too soon," I whisper to Tonks. "You don't want to get banned from Hogsmeade."

Tonks nods thoughtfully. I turn to Penny.

"Are you excited to go to Hogsmeade?" Penny asks.

"Of course," I say. "So you're going?"

"Why wouldn't I go?" she asks in an innocent voice.

"Because-"

Penny cuts me off with a quick shake of her head. I remember how she refused to tell me what was bothering her for so long. She obviously hasn't told her roommates.

"I thought you might stay behind to help Professor Snape," I quickly say, trying to cover up my mistake. "Haven't you been trying to get into his good graces?"

Penny laughs. I've missed the sound of her laugh. "The cold dungeon air must have frozen his heart," she jokes. "I don't think it's possible to get into his good graces. I gave up in second year."

"It's possible for Slytherins," I say. I wonder if Professor Snape has always been so bitter. Did something happen to him, or is he just naturally grumpy?

"Where do you want to go first?" Penny asks, pulling my thoughts away from our grim professor. "I know Tonks will be heading straight for Zonko's, and I want to go to Honeydukes, but what about you?"

"We're meeting at the Three Broomsticks first to get Butterbeer," I tell her.

"All right," Penny says.

The Ravenclaw table is right next to the Hufflepuff table. I cross the few feet between them and take the empty seat beside Rowan. If I want to talk to Penny again, I can always turn around.

Rowan finishes eating first and impatiently waits for me to be done. I watch her with amusement. Rowan isn't happy idle. She always wants to be doing something, whether it's homework, researching the vaults, or just talking. Simply waiting is torture for her.

I swallow the last bite of scrambled eggs and stand. "Let's go."

I follow her from the table and back up to our common room. We spend the time before we leave sprawled on our beds, writing letters to our families. At least, I'm starting a letter to my parents, the first one I've written all year. I don't know what Rowan is feverishly scribbling.

Finally, I place my parchment and quill to the side and find the bag of money Mum gave me for Hogsmeade visits. I hold it in my hand, feeling the weight of the coins inside. Once again, I feel pulled between my duty to Jacob and my desire to not let my parents down. I had hoped that these two things wouldn't conflict. I had hoped to have the support of the adults I trust the most. In a perfect world, this would the case. But my world is far from perfect.

We find Penny and Ben, and the four of us climb into a carriage together. The plan is to meet up with Bill at the Three Broomsticks, and then he'll show us around.

It isn't hard to find the Three Broomsticks. Besides the fact that it's one of the first buildings that we come to, many other students have also decided to make it their first stop.

I stop, stepping sideways out of the stream of students. Many of them funnel through the door to the Three Broomsticks. "Maybe we should wait," I suggest. "It's really crowded."

Rowan walks closer and peers in through the window. "Bill's not in there yet," she says. "And it looks like every table is taken already."

I look around for Bill, finally spotting him with a girl who has dark hair and a rectangular face. She looks familiar. It takes me a minute to realize that she looks like an older, less unkempt version of Ismelda. They're talking to a few of of the shyer third-years, who don't seem to know where to go- Chiara, Talbott, and a Slytherin named Brayden Edwards, who I've never heard speak a word.

I wait for them to finish. Talbott simply walks off, scorning Bill's offer to show him around. Ismelda's sister- who else could she be?- leads Brayden further down the street.

"Come with us, Chiara," Bill offers. "I've been to Hogsmeade before. I'll show you around."

"I-I don't know," Chiara mumbles. She looks down at the snow beneath her feet, as if she wants to melt into it. "I can find my own way around." She looks back up, her pale blue eyes meeting mine for a split second before dropping back to the snowy ground. "Maybe I'll see you around."

Before any of us can try to persuade her once again, she's gone, vanishing around a corner like mist on a sunny morning.

Bill looks in the direction she ran, shrugs, and then leads us down the main street. "We should go to Honeydukes first," he suggests. No one objects, so we keep walking. Bill takes his role as a tour guide very seriously. He points to every shop that we pass, sharing facts about its history or what it sells.

After a bit of walking, we reach Honeydukes. The building is painted green, and displayed in the windows are countless types of sweets. Unfortunately, the shop isn't any less crowded than the Three Broomsticks. I try to stay with Bill, but in a crowd this thick, it's a losing battle.

I look through the array of sweets for sale. The window displays show only a fraction of what the shop has to offer. I scoop Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans from a barrel and fill a bag with toffees. Along one wall are shelves of the more magical sweets, which include Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. The label on the package says that it fills a room with bubbles that won't pop until several days have passed. It sounds like something Tonks would like.

I take my bags up to the counter. The shopkeeper is a chatty, bald man named Ambrosius Flume. "Christmas is always the busiest time of year. Only Valentine's Day even comes close. Everyone gives out candy as presents. You have to be careful what you put in a stocking. Nothing too big, and no coconut ice- it'll melt," he advises.

I nod, waiting for him to finish counting out the change. Finally, he hands me a few coins and my bag. I thank him and leave the store.

I find my friends waiting outside the door. Ben's face is pink from the cold. "Let's see if the Three Broomsticks has cleared out a bit," he suggests.

We all agree, so Bill leads us back in the direction we came from. A small bell over the door rings as he pushes open the door. It's still crowded, but it's emptied enough for the five of us to find a table.

Soon after, Madam Rosmerta arrives and takes our orders. Bill requests five Butterbeers.

Madam Rosmerta returns after a few minutes with five mugs of a caramel-colored liquid topped with swirls of whipped cream. She turns to leave.

Ask her about me, Jacob says.

I'm puzzled, but I decide to obey him. "Excuse me?" I ask. Madam Rosmerta turns around again. "Did you know my brother? Jacob Serantos?"

"You're his sister?" She looks me over. "Yes, now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance. I remember Jacob. He was a quiet boy. Very sweet. He always sat in that table in the corner, scribbling in notebooks." She nods to a small, one-person table, which is currently unoccupied.

"Notebooks?" I ask.

"Aye," she confirms. "Then one day, a pair of Ministry Aurors grabbed him by the hood of his cloak and dragged him out the door. He left his quill on the table. I held onto it. It's somewhere in the back."

"Could you find it for me?" I ask. "Please?" There's a chance it's just a quill, but with Jacob and the vaults, nothing is ever as it seems. I need every clue I can get.

Madam Rosmerta frowns. "I'll look for it, but the holiday season is very busy," she says. "It might be a long time before I find it."

"That's fine," I say. "You can mail it to me. Just find it. Please."

"I'll see what I can do," Madam Rosmerta says again, before leaving to attend another table.

"How did you know to ask her about your brother?" Rowan asks.

I sigh. I've been postponing this conversation, but I can't put it off any longer. But Ben guessed that I had heard Jacob in the vault, and no one had a negative reaction to that. Maybe it will be fine. "Jacob talks to me sometimes. He told me to ask."

"What else has he told you?" Rowan asks.

So she doesn't think I'm insane, I think, relieved. I should have more faith in my friends. When have they ever not supported me, even though I keep fearing that they won't?

"He told me to beware of R, because they have eyes everywhere," I say. He's said other things too, but they're personal and not important. I don't tell them about Jacob wishing me a merry Christmas, or pleading with me to not abandon him.

Ben jerks, spilling a few drops of his Butterbeer. He doesn't seem to notice. "Eyes…" he mutters. "I remember the eyes. They were the sign…"

I watch him expectantly, but his voice trails off. "The sign of what?" I ask.

Ben shakes his head in frustration. "I thought I remembered something, but it's gone now."

"Do you think the quill is actually one of your brother's notebooks?" Rowan suggests, changing the subject. "Maybe he Transfigured it to hide it from the Ministry."

"Maybe…" I say. But would he have had time to do it? Maybe he had already Transfigured his notes as a precaution. I have so many questions.

"There have been more boggarts," Bill says. "One appeared in my Potions class. I thought Snape was going to- I don't know. He looked like he was ready to bolt."

"Of course they would appear in the dungeons," I say. "They're dark. That's just the environment a boggart likes."

"Snape might have to move his classes," Rowan says thoughtfully, propping her head up on one hand. "The dungeons are infested with boggarts. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs might have to move again, too."

With their common rooms in the dungeons, the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were the first to be severely affected by the cursed ice. At least the Hufflepuff common room is well-lit and should be safe from boggarts for a while. But since one appeared in the greenhouse, is anywhere safe?

I try to drive these troubling thoughts from my head. I will face the curse when I have to, and like before, I'll have my friends to help me. It doesn't matter if boggarts are everywhere. I have no intention of hiding from them.

My dreams that night are filled with the sound of waves. I find myself standing on the shore of a beach, with soft sand and a clear blue sky. The dream is so vivid that I can feel the warmth of the sand underneath my bare feet and smell the salt on the air.

Jacob is standing in front of me, looking almost exactly the same as the last time I saw him. Something is different, some details have changed. His hair is longer, and his face is thinner.

"They'll come," he says, more to himself than to me. "I failed. They won't give up."

"Who's coming?" I ask, hoping that just this one time I can get a straight answer out of my brother.

"Stay away from them, Celena!" Jacob shouts, as if he's standing at the other end of the beach. I blink, and suddenly he is, separated from me by a mile of smooth sand. He's just a tiny figure in the distance, silhouetted against the sky. The wind picks up, growing from a gentle breeze to a stronger gale. It tugs at my hair and at my robes.

"Don't help them!" Jacob shouts, struggling to be heard over the rising wind. "And don't trust-"

But I never find out who it is I can't trust, because the wind whips his next words away. They are blown out to sea, where they can't be of use. I'm left standing alone on the beach as the sand grows cold, looking for someone who's long gone.