PART ONE: IN VITAM

Chapter III: The Magician Reversed

When I arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, I quickly realized that I had no idea which table belonged to which house, and there was no way in hell I'd ever be able to find Marlene's friends amongst the hundreds of black-robed students.

That terrifying thought barely had time to settle before it was replaced by the realization that I now stood in the Great Hall. Overhead, the infamous floating candles hovered above the four long, wooden tables. I had read about the Great Hall in the books and seen it in the movies, and yet those images dimmed in comparison to reality. I understood now why some said that the Great Hall had no ceiling and simply opened up to the heavens. The pale, morning sky with a few scattered clouds drifted above me, stretching across my vision. I forgot that I stood in a crowded hall and imagined myself at the crest of a green hill, on one of the rare, sunny mornings in Aberdeenshire, looking down the long slope to the sea.

Then, reality struck me, and I was back in the Great Hall, surrounded by students and voices. In that moment, as I stared up the enchanted sky, I realized just how lost I was. This wasn't my world. My world had no magic. It had been made of music and shouting and alcohol. There were no floating candles, no spells to make things fly, no ghosts, no moving pictures, no shifting staircases. I didn't belong here. This wasn't my world.

The overwhelming weight came rushing back. My throat felt impossibly tight as I looked at the swarm of students. I was an idiot. There was no way I could fool anyone. Wasn't Marlene McKinnon, only an imposter.

Then, Dorcas appeared in front of me with a warm smile and said, "We're over here."

The panic slowly subsided as Dorcas led me across the Great Hall to the table furthest from the doors. There, I saw Lily helping herself to breakfast, and beside her sat the petite girl with a bob cut who had been featured in many of Marlene's photos.

"You made it," said Lily warmly.

"Safe and sound." My voice come out as little more than a murmur as I settled into the seat across from her.

Lily glanced up at the ceiling with a frown. "The post still hasn't arrived yet."

"It will come," said Dorcas. "When has it not?"

Mountains of breakfast foods sprawled in front of me—toast, jam, bacon, eggs of all sorts, waffles, pancakes, crumpets, muffins, pumpkin juice, breakfast tea—and yet none of it looked appetizing.

I didn't want to be here, sitting at the Gryffindor table with these girls. I wanted to be curled up in Marlene's four-poster bed with my head under the covers, screaming my panic and frustration. But I knew if I skipped breakfast and didn't have Marlene's friends to show me where the Potions classroom was, I would never find my way there. If I allowed myself to skip class one morning, I would start allowing myself to skip class every morning.

I was Marlene McKinnon now, I reminded myself, and I needed act like it.

Just as I added scrambled eggs and toast to my plate, the awaited post arrived. I almost fell off the bench when an owl dropped a newspaper onto the table, narrowly avoiding my cup of tea. The other girls seemed completely unphased by the letters and papers raining down on them. However, if they found my reaction odd, none of them showed it. Lily had already picked up her paper and began unrolling it.

"More bad news?" asked Dorcas as Lily scanned the front page.

"Nothing in Ayrshire?" asked Mary anxiously.

Lily pursed her lips. "There was an attack in Surrey. The muggles are chalking it up to bad weather."

Mary blanched as she read the article over Lily's shoulder. "Three dead. More injured."

I forced myself to eat even though I couldn't taste the scrambled eggs.

Lily flipped through more of the paper, her eyes scanning the articles. "Quidditch," she said in disgust when she reached the sports pages. "Who cares about Quidditch in a time like this?" She then glanced up at me. "Sorry, Marlene."

For a moment, I had no idea why she would apologize to me. Then, I remembered that Marlene used to play. After swallowing my mouthful of eggs, I said, "No worries."

"We can't be focused on the war all the time, mind," said Dorcas. "People need something else in their lives."

"I know," said Lily as she set the newspaper onto the table. "But I can't care about who wins a game in Quidditch when there are people—magical and muggle—dying."

I peered at the page she'd left it open to. In black letters, the article was titled "Augustus Rookwood Assures Public That the Department of Mysteries Remains Untouched By Death Eaters". The name Rookwood sounded familiar, but I couldn't remember where from. What caught my attention was the mention of the Department of Mysteries. This Rookwood claimed the Department was secure, but hadn't Marlene snuck inside to find the Veil? I tried to read the first line of the article, but Dorcas then picked up the paper and began flipping through it.

"Minchum has been making better progress against the Death Eaters than Jenkins ever did," said Dorcas. Despite her words, she didn't sound pleased with this Minchum.

"Minchum's approach is too ruthless," said Lily. "If five wizards were rounded up and only one of them was a Death Eater but he didn't know which, Minchum and Crouch would rather send all five to Azkaban than risk the one Death Eater going free."

"Sometimes a hardline minister is what you need in dark times," said Mary.

I tried to piece together what they were saying and commit the names to memory. I wished Marlene's letter had contained more useful information. Knowing about her family was good, but I also needed to know other things like what kind of food Marlene liked, what her favorite classes were, whether she had any pets, who she had dated, and so many other seemingly insignificant details. It was those small moments, the moments where I should know a joke or remember an event, that would give me away.

Mary suddenly leaned forward and hissed, "They're coming over."

I followed the girls' gazes down the Gryffindor table to where a group of four boys sauntered towards us. I didn't need anyone to tell me who they were. The handsome one with shaggy black hair that fell effortlessly into his eyes had to be Sirius Black, which meant that the slightly taller one next to him with hazel eyes and messy hair that stuck up in the back was James Potter. I noted the Quidditch Captain and Head Boy badges that flashed on his chest beside the red and gold mark of Gryffindor.

Behind them was a tall boy with light brown hair and a thin face. The shadows of sleepless nights hung under his eyes, and a long thin scar that ran across his left cheek. Undoubtedly Remus Lupin.

The last boy in the group was on the small side, about five centimeters shorter than me. He had a round, chubby face and an upturned nose that unfortunately reminded me of a rat. His thin, mousy hair had been cut in the male pageboy style that was popular in the 70s but made me cringe internally.

The Marauders, I thought, as I watched Sirius elbow James in the side and the two of them exchanged knowing glances. If I hadn't almost died and been tasked with saving the McKinnons, I probably would have fawned over them like some of the Gryffindor girls were doing. Instead, I looked over at Lily and wonder how long it would be until she and James finally shagged.

"Good morning, Head Girl," said James as he slid into the seat next to her.

Lily had been determinedly ignoring the Marauders, her green eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. Only when James spoke to her did she look up and say, "Good morning, Potter."

His eyebrows rose. "I'm Potter now, am I?"

"James," she corrected herself.

I figured it wouldn't be long.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?" asked Mary, scooting over to make room for Peter.

"We had a late morning," said Sirius.

Before I knew it, the Marauders had settled onto the benches and began having breakfast with us.

For a second, I was too stunned to move. I could only imagine the reaction of my Potterhead friend if she learned that the Sirius Black was eating a buttered crumpet in front of me. Then, Remus knocked Dorcas's goblet of pumpkin juice over the Daily Prophet, and I came crashing back down to earth. These weren't book characters to me anymore. They were real people. People that could send me to St. Mungo's if they found out the truth.

"Glad to see you're eating with us again, Marlene," said Sirius.

I nodded mutely as I reached for a napkin to help clean up the mess.

"She's been a bit grouchy this morning, mind," said Dorcas. "Scourgify." She pointed her wand at the spilled pumpkin juice, and the orange liquid immediately vanished, leaving newspaper dry and untouched.

I stared at the napkin in my hand before quickly using it to wipe my mouth. I glanced around the table, but it seemed no one noticed my mistake.

"Potions first thing in the morning," grumbled Sirius.

"Isn't it great?" said Lily with a broad grin. "We had Defense Against the Dark Arts first last year, and I had a hard time staying awake through Professor Gibbons droning voice."

Sirius and James exchanged glances that plainly said they'd rather that than Potions.

"I've a free period," said Peter smugly.

"Same," said Dorcas.

"That's because Peter got a 'Troll' on his Potions OWL," said James with a grin.

Peter's face turned bright red. "I didn't. It was a 'Poor', and you know it."

James and Sirius laughed, and soon Peter was laughing along with them. I copied their smiles as I looked over the small boy that sat on the other side of the table. This was Peter Pettigrew, the same Peter Pettigrew who, in just a few years' time, would join the Death Eaters and hand Lily, James, and their infant son over to Voldemort.

How many of the people sitting around me would die in the next few years? James and Lily would be murdered by Voldemort. Sirius would be framed for it and sent to prison. Peter would spend thirteen years as a rat, while Remus, burdened with guilt, would be ostracized because of his werewolf curse. What would happen to Mary and Dorcas? Would they die as well? And Marlene was supposed to be murdered along with her family—though she would survive if I had anything to say about it.

"Marlene quit Quidditch?"

James's loud voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up from my plate with a mumbled, "What?"

James looked from me to Lily and back to me. "You quit the Quidditch team? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Yeah, uh, this summer." I stumbled over my words, trying to remember everything I could from Marlene's letter. "Hartley's disappointed in me."

"Hartley!" cried James. "What about me? What about our rivalry?"

I had no idea that Marlene even had a Quidditch rivalry with James, so I responded with a lame, "Sorry."

"We all thought you would get the captain's badge for sure," said James.

"I was wondering why Davey Gudgeon had it." Remus looked over his shoulder at the Hufflepuff table.

"I did get the badge," I said. "But I sent it back with my resignation."

James opened and closed his mouth several times as if he couldn't comprehend the idea of someone not wanting to play Quidditch any longer. Finally, he asked, "But who's going to be my rival when my team gloriously wins the Cup?"

"Do you need a rival?" asked Lily. She tried to sound disapproving, but she smiled as she spoke.

"Of course!" cried James. "How can my final year as Gryffindor Captain be epic if I don't have a rival to make cry when I win the Quidditch Cup?"

"You'll have to find a new one," I said. "Maybe you can make posters."

Sirius laughed. "We'll put them on the House bulletin boards, mate. 'James Potter: Seeking Quidditch Rival Who Will Cry on Demand.'"

"You laugh," said James, "but I still don't get why Marlene quit."

Once again, all the attention was on me, and I shifted in my seat. "It was a feeling, I don't know. It was something I needed to do."

Lily sent me a pitying look, while Mary nodded along in understanding.

"But why?" asked James.

"Oh, shut it," said Lily. "She answered your question. Now give it a rest."

James immediately shut it, but an uncomfortable silence settled around the group.

"Oh look," said Dorcas, checking her watch. "It's about time you lot headed to Potions."

Relief washed over me when Lily grabbed her bookbag and got to her feet. I quickly followed, almost tipping over the hem of my robe. I was used to my own thin limbs, and Marlene's strong ones threw me off balance when I wasn't careful.

"Don't be late," Lily warned the Marauders as we waited for Mary to gather her things.

"We still have ten minutes," said James.

Lily raised one judging eyebrow, but she only said, "I'll see you in the dungeons."

Then, with Mary and me in tow, she led the way out of the Great Hall. As we passed by the Slytherin table, I noticed some of the students giving us dirty looks. Or rather, I quickly realized, they gave Lily and Mary dirty looks. It seemed they didn't give a rat's arse about me. Lily kept her head held high and her gaze fixed on the doors. Mary kept glancing over her shoulder, and when I followed her gaze, I saw that the Marauders watched us carefully. I might have been mistaken, but I could've sworn I saw James place his wand on the table.

We made it out of the Great Hall without incident. I made sure to walk a little behind Lily and Mary so I wouldn't make a wrong turn on the way to Potions class. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of silver, but I didn't look to see if Helena had followed me again. Next trip to the lavvy, I'd warn her that stalking me would only make people suspicious.

The Potions classroom had low, arched ceilings made of dark bricks. The walls were lined with shelves hosting rows upon rows of vials, bottles, flasks, boxes, and cauldrons. In the far back there was a room that jutted out and contained even more containers, each labeled with the name of an ingredient. In the middle of the room, a dozen desks had been placed in rows of three.

Some students had already arrived, their cauldrons placed on stands and their textbooks out in front of them. A group of sneering Slytherins sat in the back corner. Lily did her best to ignore them, and I realized that the thin, greasy-haired boy with deathly pale skin and a splattering of pimples must be Severus Snape. He had his head lowered as he spoke in a hushed voice to a boy with dark hair. In the next row over, two girls with green badges on their chests sent Lily venomous glares. There were also a few Ravenclaws seated at the front and a group of Hufflepuff boys at the desks in the center of the classroom. One of them sent me a glowing smile when my eyes met his, and I managed to weakly return it.

Lily took a seat at the front desk on the far right, and Mary settled at the table behind her. I froze half way down the aisle, unsure if I should sit on the stool next to Lily or the one next to Mary.

After half a second, I leaned against the edge of the desk next to Mary's, as if I wasn't quite ready to sit down yet, and said, "James wouldn't leave me alone about Quidditch."

"Yeah," said Mary, shaking her head. "He's got Quidditch on the brain."

"You two have been playing against each other for years," said Lily. "I'm sure he genuinely wanted to play with you in our last year."

Mary gave Lily a curious glance, and I followed suit.

Lily immediately started turning pink and said, "He's barmy for Quidditch."

"Is there something I'm missing?" asked Mary, leaning forward in her seat. "You've been awfully nice to James since the new school year began"

"It's only because we're Head Boy and Girl," said Lily. "It'd be counterproductive for us to get into fights like we used to."

Mary shot me a knowing look.

"And he's not all bad," continued Lily. "There was the incident in Hogsmeade last year after all."

At this, Mary nodded in agreement. "I didn't expect it of him."

I tried to look like I knew what they were talking about.

"I was surprised and also not surprised," said Lily. "James has always protected the younger Gryffindors when the Slytherins tried to jinx them in halls. Though, Potter used to jinx the Gryffindors himself when the mood struck him." She added the last part with a frown.

"Well, he was bound to start growing up some time," I said.

Lily offered me a thin smile. "There you go again, Marlene. Always defending him."

Had Marlene defended him before? I gave a sheepish shrug and looked away. I watched a Slytherin couple entered the dungeon hand-in-hand. The boy was burly with curling, brown hair, while the girl was short and curvy with a kind face. Her gaze fell on me, and all the kindness left it. I met her disdainful stare and then turned away. I should avoid drawing attention to myself.

"Death Eaters, those two," muttered Mary under her breath.

"You don't know they'll make that choice," said Lily.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Odds are I'm right."

I hesitated, unsure what to say. I knew many of the Slytherins would make that choice…but would Marlene know that? In the end, I went for neutral statement. "Some of our classmates will become Death Eaters. You can't deny that."

Lily sent me an odd look. Had I said the wrong thing?

"It's unsettling," said Mary, "to think that in less than a year's time, some of the people we've spent seven years learning magic with will then use that magic to harm others."

"If they choose to become Death Eaters," said Lily.

I felt a wave of pity for her, as I assumed her stubbornness had to do with her childhood friend, Snape. She must know he planned to join the Death Eaters once he graduated. Of course, she couldn't know he would send Voldemort after her and her family in four years' time.

I winced. Surely there was something I could do to change that fate, some choice I could make to save the Potters… But I was already tasked with saving the McKinnons, and that would be difficult enough without adding more lives to the list. Once I started adding names, the list would never stop growing.

"Good morning, Miss Evans, Miss McKinnon, Miss McDougal."

A short man with a belly that bulged under his dark green robes walk down the aisle, heading to the front of the classroom. He barely came up to my nose, and I got a good view of his balding head as he greeted Lily with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Professor Slughorn," she said.

"Good morn, Professor Slughorn," I echoed.

Mary looked sullen, and she waited for him to pass before saying, "McDonald. He got my name wrong again."

"He's a little forgetful," said Lily gently.

I said nothing as I watched the professor settle in the large armchair behind the teacher's desk. I couldn't help but stare at Horace Slughorn, the infamous sycophant and founder of the Slug Club.

Briefly, I wondered if Marlene was in the Slug Club. After all, Slughorn had gotten her name right. But I quickly decided it didn't matter. If she was, I would simply announce my resignation from the Slug Club. If anyone asked, it was NEWT year, and I had more important things to focus on. Which was true. Surviving Potions class was far more important than membership in the Slug Club.

Cauldrons, I learned, were kept in the storage closet in the back left of the classroom. The closet contained shelves upon shelves of pewter cauldrons, labeled with the names of students. However, as Lily kindly reminded me, we were using the schools' brass cauldrons today, and I retrieved one from the back of the closet. When we returned, I placed my cauldron on beside Mary's but continued to stand. The seats beside Lily and Mary remained empty.

Barely a minute before class started, the Marauders, minus Peter, entered the dungeon. Slughorn shot them all disapproving looks as they made their way across the classroom to where we were seated. Sirius and James settled at the same table as Mary, and Remus sat on the stool next to Lily. I made a guess and took the empty seat beside Mary. As no one sent me odd looks, I figured I'd guessed right.

"Turn in your essays on Brass Cauldrons at the front of the class," said Slughorn, gesturing towards a wooden box on his desk.

I opened my bookbag and started rummaging through. My arm went into the bag all the way past my elbow. It took all my willpower not to scream.

My arm should not fit this deep. The bookbag should not have that much space. After two deep breaths, I reminded myself that I was at Hogwarts and expansion charms existed. Likely, Marlene had charmed her bookbag to fit more in it.

Once I'd calmed down, I reached into the bookbag again. My fingers burned as they brushed past the Veil shard, and I had to bite my tongue to stop the pain from showing on my face. At last, I found what I was looking for. Several rolls of parchment rested at the bottom, each labeled with the name of a class. I found the one labeled "Potions", and unrolling it, I saw in neat handwriting the words "Essay on the Proper Use and Maintenance of Brass Cauldrons" written at the top. Fighting back a sigh of relief, I took the parchment to the front of the classroom and placed it in the box along with the others students' essays.

After returning to my desk, I pulled out my copy of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage. I stared at the blue-gray cover for a moment. Then, against my better judgment, I glanced over my shoulder at the back of the classroom where Snape was bent over his own textbook. Nineteen years from now, Harry Potter would open that textbook and discover the Half-Blood Prince.

"As I told you," said Slughorn, his voice filling the classroom, "today we will be making the Blood-Replenishing Potion, which you will find on page 324. This potion is incredibly important for Healers and has saved many wizards and witches from the cold hands of death." Slughorn shuddered at the thought. "This potion is made in three stages, which we will complete throughout this week. The first stage we will complete today, the second and longest stage we will complete tomorrow, and we will finish the potions on Friday. Your final product should be blood red in color. You have until 8:25. You may begin."

I flipped to page 324 of my textbook and stared at the long, complicated list of ingredients and then at the even longer, even more complicated list of directions. Feverfew pollen, maidenhair leaves, hawthorn berries…powdered vampire teeth?

Glancing up, I saw that most of the other students had gone to the ingredients' cupboard. Taking my textbook with me, I followed their lead. I grabbed whatever I saw anyone else grabbing, trying to double-check with the list in my book. Thankfully, Remus saved me from grabbing foxglove instead of feverfew.

On the way back to my desk, arms full of ingredients, I saw Lily point her wand at the stand and, without uttering a word, start a small fire beneath her cauldron. Horror gripped my throat as I realized I didn't know the incantation of start a fire. And, even if I did, I had no idea if the spell would even work.

Trying to remain calm, I settled at my desk and started following the directions in the textbook. Add the vial of vampire blood. Bring to a boil… Well, I couldn't start a fire, so I figured I'd skip that instruction for now. Measure a half gram of feverfew pollen and add to the boiling vampire blo… No, can't do that yet either.

Next to me, Sirius started a fire beneath his cauldron with a sharp jab of his wand. He didn't need to use an incantation either.

Perhaps I could run to the lavvy and ask Helena what the incantation for the Fire-Making Charm was, but just as I had that thought, Mary raised her wand next to me, pointed it at the base of her brass cauldron, and said, "Incendio." Fire appeared in the stand, and she proceeded to measure out her feverfew pollen.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up my black walnut wand. I tried to remember Helena's advice: I had to believe it would work. I pointed the wand at the base of my cauldron and said, "Incendio."

Nothing happened.

Sirius shot me a mocking look down the length of the table. "Gotten rusty over the weekend, McKinnon?"

"Yeah, I must've," I said with a small, forced laugh. I wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. The Fire-Making Charm was something Harry Potter learned in his first year at Hogwarts.

Well, there was nothing for it to try again, and if that failed, I'd eat some powdered vampire teeth and hope it'd send me to the Hospital Wing.

Deep breath. Sharp, pointed wand movement. "Incendio."

Nothing.

Panic seized my throat and I found it hard to breathe. I couldn't do this. Marlene was barking mad to think I could. I wasn't a witch. I couldn't cast a simple spell like incendio. Everyone would find out I wasn't Marlene, and her whole plan would be worthless. I was going to end up in St. Mungo's. All because I couldn't cast a stupid Fire-Making Charm.

And then, before my eyes, a small fire lit in the stand beneath my brass cauldron.

I stared at the flickering, orange flame before looking about. Lily and Mary were both preoccupied with weighing their ingredients, so it couldn't have been them. I looked to my right and saw Sirius Black smirking at me. He mouthed the words, "You owe me," before turning his attention back to his potion.

The shadow of my previous life stirred, and I felt a twinge of annoyance at the smirking Sirius Black. I did owe him, but I didn't have time to think about that. I only had about forty minutes to complete the first stage of my Blood-Replenishing Potion. The recipe dictated that it took just under forty minutes to make, and I needed all the extra time I could get.

Fortunately, Potions didn't require much wandwork beyond the Fire-Making Spell. I spent the rest of class focused on preparing the ingredients and stirring the cauldron. The potion was complicated, and I lacked experience. I mixed up two of the ingredients. I used the scales wrong at first, adding too many crushed hawthorn berries. Mary had to save me from adding the powdered vampire teeth at the wrong time.

By the end of class, I was sticky with sweat and my potion had turned the color of tar.

Slughorn tut-tutted as he walked by. "I know you can do better than that, Miss McKinnon."

"Sorry, professor."

He examined the bubbling tar and said, "You'll have to start over next class unfortunately. Scourgify." He pointed his wand at the cauldron.

Rather than be upset that my potion was a complete and utter mess, I was just relieved that I wouldn't have to try to cast scourgify myself.

My other classes didn't go any better. I got my seat wrong in Transfiguration and didn't realize it until one girl told me to move my arse before she hexed it. I then didn't cast a single spell correctly, only managing to enlarge poor Mary's ears. Thankfully, McGonagall put them right immediately, no harm done. Mary laughed it off, but I still felt bad.

I had a two-hour break for lunch, and rather than go to the Great Hall with Marlene's friends, I returned to the Hufflepuff Basement to find the first-year textbooks Marlene had left for me in the trunk. Alone in the dorm room, I practiced the Fire-Making Charm over and over again until I accidentally set the edge of my bed on fire and had the smother the flames with a pillow.

Defense Against the Dark Arts went no better than Transfiguration as I couldn't cast a single spell, let alone a nonverbal one. I kept waving my wand and watching as nothing happened. It wasn't just Marlene's friends who gave me odd looks now. One Slytherin girl even asked if I'd turned into a muggle over the weekend.

In evening Herbology, one of the plants tried to eat my hand because I didn't know that they were sensitive to touch. Professor Sprout set my hand right with a wave of her wand and let me leave class early, telling me to do my homework properly next time.

At that point, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into my four-poster bed and sleep for twenty-four hours. Maybe when I woke, I'd be in my own bed in Stonehaven, and the world of Hogwarts would be back on my bookshelves where it belonged.

This wasn't my world. This wasn't my life. I should've have died on that road. It was what I deserved. I knew better than to drive on the piss. My friend had even offered to give me a ride home. But no. I'd heard my ex telling me that I was too guttered to drive, and I'd lost my temper. Now, I didn't even know if the lorry driver had survived.

No. Too late for regrets now. I had accepted this life. Marlene had offered a trade, and I'd agreed. There was no going back now.

I adjusted the strap of my magical bookbag and headed for the stairs. Hopefully, I could find the seventh-floor corridor on my own.

I somehow managed to navigate the moving staircases up to the seventh floor without getting lost or falling into a trick step. The hard part was then finding the Room of Requirement. I wandered down several corridors and past a portrait of a large woman who I assumed to be the Fat Lady. In my head, I repeated over and over again that I needed a place to learn magic in secret. Still, no suspicious door appeared. I found several doors marked with labels reading, "Professor Vablatsky's Office" and "Professor Chen's Office". Some doors that were locked, others I heard voices behind.

As I walked along a corridor lined with stain-glass windows that looked out over a courtyard, a familiar voice asked, "Are you lost?"

I turned around to find the long, sorrowful face of Helena Ravenclaw.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," I said before continuing down the corridor.

"I have been watching you. You were dreadful in every class."

"Aye well, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since I became a witch."

"Are you looking for that room?" asked Helena. "The room that comes and goes?"

"The Room of Requirement," I said, careful to keep my voice low. "I know it's somewhere on the seventh floor." I glanced over my shoulder at Helena. Could ghosts access the Room? If Helena had need of something, would the Room appear for her? I hesitated and then asked, "Do you know the layout of this floor well?"

Helena frowned. "I have dwelled in these halls for centuries."

"Would you notice a doorway you've never seen before?"

"I believe I would."

And so, I began my search of the seventh floor again. This time, Helena floated behind me, her gray eyes scanning the doors, looking for one she did not recognize. She listed them off for me, saying "This is the Charms professor's office… This is the trap door that leads to the Divination classroom… This is a Reading Room… This is the Arithmancy classroom…"

It wasn't until we reached a corridor deep in the castle and far from any windows that Helena finally said, "I do not know this door."

The door was small, made of dark wood, and rather forgettable. The circular doorknob was made of brass, and I wondered if the Room wanted to make fun of me after my disastrous Potions class. I glanced at Helena before raising a hesitant hand to the knob.

The door swung open to reveal a large room with high walls and an arched ceiling. The wall farthest away was lined with mirrors. Helena drifted in after me, and I let the door swing shut. In the center of the room stood several practice dummies made of straw and sheets. Against the far-right wall was a white bookcase that, upon further inspection, held the entire set of textbooks required for all seven years at Hogwarts. A giant mahogany desk rested beside the bookcase with a cushy maroon armchair. On the other side of the room, there was a potion set, complete with pewter and brass cauldrons, scales, a mortar and pestle, and a small cabinet of ingredients. Next to this was a sink and a metal bucket, likely for putting out any fires I might start.

"Amazing," said Helena. If she'd been alive, I'm sure she would have gasped. "This room has all you could need."

"The Room of Requirement," I explained. "I had a need, and it changed itself to meet my need."

Rather than use the books on the shelves, I rummaged through my enchanted bookbag until I found Marlene's copy of The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). I flipped through the book until I reached the chapter on the Fire-Making Charm. I'd read some of the chapter in my free period, but mostly, I'd practiced the spell. Now, after preparing a bucket of water, I went over to the potions station, pointed the wand at the cauldron stand, and said, "Incendio."

A massive jet of flame shot from my wand. Thankfully, nothing was set ablaze.

"No, no," said Helena from somewhere behind me. "This is a spell that adjusts to the witch's will. You have to visualize the single flame. And say incantation with less gusto."

I gritted my teeth and tried again. This time, nothing happened.

Helena gave an inelegant snort. "Why do you not use the diadem? It would certainly speed up the process. At this rate, we will be in here a month."

"I can't use the diadem." I tried the spell again, this time with a little more force behind my voice. The corner of the table caught fire, and I quickly dumped the bucket of water on the flickering flames before they could spread.

"Marlene left it to you for a reason," said Helena.

I kept my mouth shut, but in my head, I shouted that it was horcrux, a piece of Voldemort's soul. Perhaps it would help me catch up on coursework in the short run, but in the long run… The thought sent a shiver down the back of my neck.

I pointed my want at the cauldron stand. "Incendio."

Again, nothing happened.

"You not will be able to learn all this on your own," said Helena. "There is a reason it takes students seven years to graduate from Hogwarts."

She was right, of course. I knew that. Even if I did manage to learn seven years' worth of magic in one year, it wouldn't help. My problem was more immediate than that. I had seen the way Marlene's friends had looked at me. The concern in Lily's eyes, the wariness in Mary's, the suspicion in Remus's. The Ravenclaws had pitied me, and the Slytherins had mocked me. One day could be passed off as a bad day. Maybe I could get away with two bad days. But when the days started adding up and it became apparent that I couldn't perform even the most basic spells, the other students would realize that there was something wrong with Marlene McKinnon.

They would send me to Dumbledore. He'd figure out that I wasn't under the Imperius Curse or disguised with a Polyjuice Potion. Eventually, he would get the whole story out of me. Even if he did believe me and didn't send me to St. Mungo's, I knew that it wouldn't be for my benefit. I had read the books. While Dumbledore might try to help me, my life and the lives of Marlene's family would never be his priority. If leaving me and the McKinnons for the crows benefited the greater good, I had no doubt that Dumbledore would do it.

No, Dumbledore couldn't be trusted with the knowledge I carried. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps the day would come where it was best to tell him about Harry Potter and the horcruxes, but that day hadn't arrived yet. I would keep this secret for as long as I could.

I had agreed to save the McKinnon family, and nothing would stop me from fulfilling that promise. Not Dumbledore. Not Marlene's friends. Not the snooty Ravenclaws or cruel Slytherins. Not even a horcrux.

Helena watched as I crossed the room to where I'd discarded my bookbag onto the armchair. I rummaged through the bag until I found the silver diadem. It was cool to the touch, and I ran my finger over the bumpy wings that formed the sides of the crown.

"It is the only way," said Helena, drifting across the room to hover beside me. "I do not know why you are so reluctant. It is the key to knowledge."

I decided not to point out that the thirst for knowledge had caused Helena to steal from her own mother and led to her own death. Instead, I stared down at the diadem and said, "I'm afraid that it will control me."

"Control you?"

I didn't respond. My gaze landed on the copy of The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) lying on the mahogany desk. Perhaps I had so much trouble with the Fire-Making Charm because I hadn't read the full chapter.

Much to Helena's disappointment, I set the diadem on the desk and pulled the textbook towards me. The terminology was complicated, especially at first, and reading went slowly. I had to flip back to the introductory chapter and read that to understand the importance of pronunciation, wand movement, and willpower. Then, I flipped back to the chapter on the Fire-Making Charm and tried again. When I finished, I felt much more confident in the spell, though my understanding was still a little hazy.

I went back to the potion-brewing station and raised my wand. "Incendio."

A jet of flame released from the tip of my wand. The fire wasn't as large as before, but still bigger than I'd intended.

"See," I told Helena, "I'm improving without the diadem."

"Congratulations," said Helena dryly, "and it only took you three hours."

I checked my watch and saw that it was indeed approaching nine o'clock. Three hours—no, five if I counted the lunch break—it had taken me to be able to barely cast one spell. I flipped through the table of contents and saw that there were at least fifty spells that students learned in their first year. Not to mention, I would be expected to complete my seventh-year homework while learning all these spells.

The crushing weight had returned, and I collapsed into the armchair. It was impossible. There was no way I could learn all this in time to convince others that I was the real Marlene McKinnon. No way. I was going to fail. Perhaps it would be easiest to tell Dumbledore, but…

"This was the agreement," I said.

"What agreement?" asked Helena.

"My agreement with Marlene. She would give me her life, and in exchange, I would use my knowledge to save her family."

"You certainly are not making good progress," said Helena.

"I can't use the diadem."

"Why not?"

I stared at the silver crown. It certainly looked innocent enough. No dark shadow or evil aura surrounded the diadem. Perhaps this timeline was different from the ones in the books, and the diadem hadn't been turned into a horcrux. The diadem appeared to be an innocuous, magical object…

"How much help can the diadem be?" I wondered aloud.

"It will help." There was something grave in Helena's tone that made me pause. I glanced up at her and saw that she was staring across the room at the wall of mirrors. In slow, even tones, she said, "I wore the diadem once, after I stole it from my mother. It was everything I desired—the secret to my mother's vast store of knowledge, the one way that I could become her rival. And then, I died." Helena scoffed at the last part. Her gray eyes flickered back to me and she said, "If you wish to learn six years of school work in a month, the diadem is your only your choice."

I took a deep breath. She was right. I knew she was right. I'd known it from the moment I'd entered the Room of Requirement. I couldn't learn all this on my own. I needed the diadem. But also…I couldn't make excuses, and I couldn't assume anything in this world was different from the books. Inside this diadem existed a piece of Voldemort's soul.

Perhaps I was strong enough. Perhaps I could resist any temptation the horcrux threw at me. Or perhaps I would be easy to ensnare, and within a week, I would be setting the basilisk on Lily Evans.

I closed my eyes. Marlene had trusted that I could do this. She had given up her own life because she believed in me and the books I'd read.

Sometimes, risks had to be taken.

I extended a trembling hand and lifted Ravenclaw's diadem from the desk. Carefully, I placed the tiara on my head.

The effects of the diadem were instant, and they were unlike anything I could have possibly imagined. It wasn't that I suddenly gained knowledge and understanding of the world, but rather that the diadem expanded my mind. I was capable of learning at a much greater capacity.

My gaze fell on The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), and before I knew it, I was pouring over the pages. I hadn't known I could read so fast, but my eyes flicked over the words with ease, gaining the information and comprehending it at a rapid pace. The Wand-Lighting Charm, lumos, the Dimming Charm, nox, the Softening Charm, spongify, the Severing Charm, diffindo, the Unlocking Charm, alohomora, the Locking Spell, colloportus, the Siphoning Spell, tergeo, the Door Opening Charm, aberto, the Rotation Charm, circumrota, the Slowing Charm, arresto momentum, the Mending Charm, reparo…

On and on it went, my eyes skimming the pages and my brain deciphering the words to understand the theory, incantation, and wand movement before moving onto the next spell. My head pounded, my hands shook, and still, I couldn't stop flipping through the pages. Until, finally, I reached the end of the book.

I closed the cover and wrenched the diadem from my head.

It fell onto the desk with a thud.

For a moment, I could only sit there, staring at the silver eagle. My head spun with the words and knowledge I had just consumed. It felt as though the world was shaking and shrinking, and the only thing anchoring me was the diadem.

Then, a wave of nausea hit me. Sensing my need, the Room of Requirement had materialized a metal bucket beside me. I grabbed it and threw up the contents of my stomach. I retched and coughed even when there was nothing left to vomit. Finally, it came to an end, and I remained bent over the bucket, gasping for breath.

Something icy brushed against my shoulder, and I jerked upright. Helena removed her hand with a small, apologetic smile. "That happened to me as well."

"It's terrible," I said, my voice raspy.

"It is knowledge. Both terrible and powerful. But also wonderful." Helena's eyes glistened as she stared down at the diadem. "There is only so much one can learn in the human lifetime. But with the diadem, you can learn so much more."

My stomach churned, and I bent back over the bucket. I had nothing left in me, so I could only gag and retch until the feeling passed.

Finally, the sickness faded, and I managed to sit upright again. Helena watched as I got to my feet and stumbled across the room. At the sink, a washcloth and water glass had appeared. I almost laughed at the Room's frightening ability to meet my needs.

I wiped my face and gurgled water until most of the taste of vomit had left me. Then, I turned to face the cauldron stand. Raising the black walnut wand, I pointed it and said, "Incendio."

A small flame appeared at the center of the stand.

I watched it dance in place, before raising my wand again and saying, "Lumos." A white light appeared at the end of the wand. "Nox." The light disappeared. I waved the wand at the cauldron stand and said, "Circumrota." Slowly, the stand rotated in half-circle.

"It works." I could barely hear my own voice.

"I told you," said Helena smugly.

It had worked. God, what a terrible experience. But it had worked. A year's worth of charms learned in three hours. Perhaps I hadn't mastered them all. Perhaps some of the knowledge gained would fade with time. Perhaps this method wouldn't work as well with some of the more complicated spells. But, so far, it had been a success.

And there had been no sign of the horcrux. I hadn't heard any voices, started speaking Parseltongue, lost memories for a time, or been manipulated into doing anything.

Again, I briefly wondered if Voldemort hadn't made the diadem a horcrux, but I quickly pushed that naïve, desperate thought away. There had been no sign of Voldemort's soul, and I was one step closer to passing myself off as the real Marlene McKinnon. I would take the small victories where I could.

I checked my watch. It was a few minutes past midnight. I should probably go back to the dorm room rather than risk the suspicions of my fellow housemates. Returning in the small hours of the morning two nights in a row would only make things worse.

However, instead of leaving, I moved across the room to the bookshelf. I found the gray spine of the Advanced Potions-Making textbook.

"What are you doing?" asked Helena, hovering over my shoulder.

"Learning how to make a Blood-Replenishing Potion."