After the terror had worn off, it felt more of inconvenience. Frisk swam in the odd bubble she found herself trapped in, trying to take in the surroundings. It felt like some sort of southern London suburb, at least, that's what the rows of houses with actual gardens suggested. Though they weren't packed closely enough to be...

That didn't matter. The bubble was keeping her trapped. She could breath, though it strained her lungs. It was like she had the perpetual feeling of being just below the surface, and feeling compelled to try to swim up to get it. She was dressed in her full on house robes, and that didn't make

It felt like it went on forever, until a strange wizard, wearing mundane clothing (a football cap?) walked up to her bubble, drew a wand surreptitiously, and cast a spell that Frisk didn't recognize. It didn't do anything. The wizard, Frisk thought he was making grumpy noises, cast the same spell again. This time, the bubble burst, dumping Frisk to the ground. Gasping as she could suddenly breath easier, she climbed back to the feet, and started to thank the unknown wizard.

Then she woke up.

After checking to make sure she was still in her pajamas, and that she wasn't actually soaking wet, she rolled over in bed to observe the sunlight coming through the window, and decided there was no time like the present to get up. Her stomach was rumbling for breakfast, anyway. She climbed down to the Great Hall, joining her siblings before she missed her chance at food completely.

Frisk hadn't realized how detached she was from the Gryffindor Rumor Mill until Angelina Johnson stopped by their breakfasting in the great hall that Friday with: "Hey, Asriel, Chara? Are you still interested in playing on the Gryffindor team?"

"What?" Frisk asked, looking from her toast, to Angela, and then to her siblings. "What's that about? Don't you have a full team?"

"Wait, do you not know?" Angela asked, looking surprised.

"Didn't we mention it?" Chara wondered, glancing at Asriel. "Harry, Fred, and George were banned after their fight with Draco. By Umbridge."

"Ohhhhhhh," Frisk said, everything clicking in her head.

"And with that, we're down both of our beaters and our seeker. Chara had asked to be a backup beater. I know Asriel had tried out to be keeper, but as seekers tend to be sm... excuse me, more agile. I was hoping you might have a go at it."

"It's open tryouts again, then?" Chara asked her, as Asriel looked moodily down at his oatmeal.

"Professor McGonogall's advice," Angelina confirmed. "I've booked the pitch for this Sunday, it'll give everyone a chance to get notified. That, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs have the pitch tomorrow," she admitted. She contemplated Frisk for a moment, then grinned as Frisk shook her head in horror. "Okay, okay," she said, stifling a laugh. "By the way, has anyone seen Ginny Weasley?"

Frisk pointed a few spots up the Gryffindor table.

"Got it, Frisk, Thanks," Angelina said, heading up the table to give Ginny the same invitation.

"Frisk," Chara asked. "Up to some practice after classes?" She tapped Asriel.

Asriel started out of his own thoughts in surprise.

"Sure. It's the weekend," Frisk said. "Why not? I bet Ginny would join us, and Opal too."

Frisk was right, Opal was interested in joining them, as was their friend Luna. Opal, naturally, made them run laps first. Once that was done, and they'd caught their breath (Frisk was convinced that Opal ran a little faster each time). At least it was a reasonably nice afternoon, especially for early November. In fact, it was the right combination of sunny and windy that going for a run warmed them up without making them actually sweat. After the run, they batted around a few ideas about how to practice seeking. It was harder than one might think, because they didn't have access to a golden snitch. So they brainstormed for a while about how to practice.

It was Asriel who came up with the suggestion they went with. It took some time to collect the parts, but eventually they took to the skies. Frisk had filled her pockets with dozens of small stones. She set up in the air, hovering in place on her broom, near the goal posts on the quidditch pitch.

Ginny was first. She hovered in the air, just in front of Frisk, with her back to her friend. After a few moments, Frisk gave a whistle, and pitched one of the stones over Ginny's head as far as she could. It was Ginny's job to spot the rock and catch it before it hit the ground.

When Ginny did see the stone, she raced from her spot along the stone of the arc. She was nearing the ground when she reached out and swiped at what appeared to be the open air. She held the rock up in the air to the cheering of her friends. She put the rock in the pocket of her robe, and moved back to her position for another toss. Frisk gave Ginny ten throws total; she caught seven, and dropped only three of them.

Opal, being in Hufflepuff, wasn't actually up for the Gryffindor seeker position, but she went next anyway. "We should have tried this long before," she said after the seventh throw, "This is fun! I'm ready for the next one, Frisk!" Opal wasn't quite as good as the slightly smaller Ginny, catching only half of the thrown stones. "That's okay," she said, still smiling. "Would you like to try, Luna?"

"Hmm? No, I think I'm okay to watch," Luna said, smiling up at them. "Asriel?"

"I guess. I mean, why not? That okay, Frisk?"

"I'm game if you are," Frisk said, frowning for a moment before preparing to throw again.

To just about everyone's surprise, Asriel proved rather adept at the exercise, pocketing six out of the ten stones. "You act like you've been riding a broom your whole life," Opal exclaimed. Luna gave a round of polite applause. "Are you going to try out?" Ginny asked, as Asriel handed back his caught stones back to Frisk.

Asriel looked up at that question. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, actually," Asriel said, looking from Frisk to Ginny, his eyes were wide. He looked nervous, Frisk wasn't quite sure what made her think that, as he was doing a good job of hiding it, but something really was bothering him.

"Wait," Opal said, turning on Asriel. "What was that? Why not? I mean, you'd have as good a chance as anyone. I mean, Harry became seeker in his first year. Why would it be a bad idea if you tried out? I mean, you tried out for keeper, right?"

Asriel mumbled something.

"Can I have a go?" Chara asked suddenly.

Frisk, Opal, and Ginny all exchanged glances.

"Okay," Frisk said, taking back to the air. Frisk wasn't sure if it was the sudden change in the conversation, or if it just really wasn't in her sister's skill set, but she only got two of the stones out of the ten. The group had to scrounge for more stones before continuing the exercise.

"So what was that?" Opal pressed, as they handed the small rocks to Frisk, "about not wanting to try out?"

Asriel mumbled again.

"It's Umbridge," Luna said, as if it should be obvious to everyone. "She doesn't like you, and you're afraid of her banning the Gryffindor team if they put you on it. She already banned Harry Potter, after all, on a rather flimsy excuse."

"Flimsy?" Frisk wasn't sure which shocked her more, the idea that Ms. Umbridge had it out that badly for her brother, or that somehow Harry didn't at least somewhat deserve the penalty he'd received.

"Well," Luna said, looking curiously at Frisk. "Think of all the things that Draco has done to Harry on and off the quidditch field and not been given punishment for. Didn't he dress up as a dementor and invade the pitch when he wasn't even playing last year?"

"Two years ago," Frisk said, absently. She'd forgotten about that.

"Draco's quite skilled at winding people up. He wants to get attacked," Luna said, "That's how he gets people in trouble." She stopped for a second, and looked up at the castle. "I remember what he called Hermione, in my first year."

"What was that?" Frisk asked.

"Mudblood," Ginny said grimly. "I remember that, too."

"I do not think that Harry deserved no punishment," Luna explained. "But he did not deserve to be banned, either."

Frisk would need to think further about that, but Luna generally had good points. "Asriel," Frisk said, turning her gaze to her brother. "Is she right about Ms. Umbridge? I remember you saying you felt she was focusing on you before."

Asriel nodded glumly, "It hasn't gotten any better."

"Asriel, I don't think Angelina would have come looking for you if that was something she was nervous about," Frisk told him. "And I imagine the headmaster would say something if that turned out to be the case."

"But I don't want to cause trouble for him if I don't have to," Asriel said, "He's already stuck his neck out for us with the soul magic club. If he keeps asking for the minister to reign in Umbridge on my behalf, I think eventually it's going to go badly, and I don't want that to happen."

"I think Asriel is right," Luna said.

That she agreed with him struck Frisk as unsettling. Luna had shown she had a pretty good read on people, but Frisk had a hard time imagining why anyone could be that upset with her brother. It simply made no sense to her. "Why?" Frisk asked finally. "Why would she hate you so much?" Frisk asked.

"You think she needs a reason?" Opal asked, she tapped her palm for emphasis. "You know the punishments she dishes out. That horrible quill of hers."
"If I had to guess," Luna said, "It is because he is not human."

"Probably," Asriel said, his voice soft. "You remember how upset she looked when Mr. Fudge made his announcement after the Quidditch World Cup, and there's rumors about things she's said about Hagrid."

"Hagrid?" Frisk asked. She'd only had the one class with Care of Magical Creatures with him, but he'd seemed okay with her. He'd talked about Unicorns, and had one to introduce to the class. It might have even been the one they'd seen last term.

"He's half-giant," Ginny said.

This was a lot to digest. The only person like this she'd ever encountered that was this judgmental was Mr. Crabbe. That someone like that could be a teacher at Hogwarts is mind boggling. "We need to tell the headmaster about this," Frisk said.

"There is no way in the name of Merlin's beard he doesn't know," Opal said grimly. "And there's nothing he can do about it. The ministry is forcing this on him."

There was silence as everyone looked at each other.

"Shall we go another round, then?" Chara asked.

"Lets," said Opal. "Unless you can figure out how to do some beater practice."

With that, they did a second round, and then a third, to more or less similar results. By then, the hour was getting late. They headed back to the castle, said their goodbyes, and split up to their individual common rooms.

That Saturday, while many people were taking advantage of what was presumed to be the last warm weekend before the next spring, Frisk sat in the relatively empty great hall, her astronomy homework spread out around her. Rote memorization had never been a strong suit for her, so it took her longer than she felt it should have to complete her star charts.

It was almost with relief that someone sat across from her, distracting her from the homework at hand. To her surprise, though, it was Steven, who normally stayed away from the Gryffindor table on the grounds he didn't want the Slytherin gang mad at him. "Hello, Frisk, I was hoping to catch you before you went to help Madam Pomfrey."

"That's not for a little while still," Frisk said. "And she wouldn't let me volunteer if I wasn't keeping up on my homework," she added wryly, looking at the star charts.

"Anyway, think you can put it away for a little bit, I have someone I would like you to meet."

Frisk looked up at him, startled, but began putting her textbook and parchment away. "Well, okay. What house is this person in?"

"No house," Steven said, "You'll see."

Steven led her up the great staircase to the fifth floor, turned right, went past the prefect's bathroom, made a second right, and ended up in front of a medium sized portrait. On the portrait, stirring a cauldron of blue colored liquid was a raven haired wizard, dressed in a lime green robe adorned with a bone crossed with a wand.

Frisk looked at the small silver name plate adorning the portrait, "Warner Nightingale," she read aloud. She looked up at the portrait. "Pleased to meet you sir," she said politely

"This is the young witch you mentioned, Steven?" he asked. His voice was soft, and Frisk almost had to strain to hear it. He turned to peer out of the portrait at Frisk. "Ah, it must be. Young Steven here was telling me about your problem, about a muggle brother. Can you tell me what you know?"

"About Tony," Frisk said. She related everything she knew. She started with how she knew him, though the portrait-wizard didn't seem interested in everything she knew about Leukemia, the symptoms, what the non-magical humans were doing for treatment, and how he looked when she saw him back at the Oxtoby's.

The portrait wizard scratched his chin, stood, stretched, and began to pace around his cauldron, his stirring stick slowly sinking out of sight. He realized this only at the lest second, and swiped, ineffectively, trying to save himself from having to reach in to save it. With that failing, he rolled up one sleeve of his robe, and retrieved his now dripping wet stick, and continued to pace.

"I discovered Mr. Nightingale was at least a bit famous for being a healer at St. Mungos," Steven explained as they waited. "Which is why he has a portrait here. He has one in St. Mungo's too, but he doesn't visit it often, he says he likes watching us students more."

"Yes, I think it is possible. Very possible," the portrait wizard said finally. He rattled off several advanced spells that neither Steven or Frisk had heard of "Yes, yes, yes. I am reasonably sure that St. Mungo's could help him. I think it would be an interesting and unusual challenge too."

Frisk's eyes went wide for a second even as Steven nudged her. "He's been in that painting a very long time," Steven whispered. "They're not always quite what they were in life. I don't really know how the portrait world works, but forgive him if he's somewhat out of date, or a little unfocused."

Somewhat mollified, Frisk looked up at the portrait. "You said they could, do you think they would?"

"Well, I mean, he's a muggle. It would be a violation of wizarding law to bring him to St. Mungo's, let alone, treat a muggle ailment," the wizard explained.

"But if they caught a magical ailment, like spattergroit, or something..." Steven prompted.

"Of course," Mr. Nightingale told them. "If a muggle had a magical ailment, that would absolutely be treatable at St. Mungos.

"And there's the oath, too, right?" Steven asked.

"Well, I mean, you're not wrong, there is the Oath to Hippocrates," the portrait of Wizard Nightengale told them. "That we shall do no harm. I understand muggle doctors have something similar, you know. The healers of St. Mungo's are very professional, after all. St. Mungos has some of the best in the magical world. I am honored to represent it here at Hogwarts."

They chatted for a while more, before Steven made a polite goodbye, motioning for Frisk to follow him. Frisk's thoughts whirled through her head. Could St. Mungo's actually be the answer for Tony. How could she get him there? Would they treat him if she could?

At the archway that would have led them back to the grand staircase, Steven interrupted her thoughts. "So, what you really need is to get your foster brother to St. Mungos, right?"

"Well," Frisk said, turning to him in surprise. "Do you have an idea about that?"

"I do," Steven said. He sighed. "I'm a bit nervous though, I really don't know if you're going to like it."

"Try me," Frisk told him.

A/N: Dedicated to my fellow United Wizards, thank you for helping to contain the Calamity. May we work together again in the future.