PART ONE: IN VITAM

Chapter VI: Eight of Pentacles Reversed

I woke at the ungodly time of half-past-six in the morning to meet James Potter for a run.

As I rolled out of bed and into the exercise clothes I'd found in Marlene's dresser, I hoped James would fall off the stupid broom that he talked about so much. As I stumbled out of the Hufflepuff Basement, I recited every insult I could remember from this world and mine. And, as I reached the front doors of the Great Hall and saw James wearing a bright, cheery smile, I muttered every first-year curse and hex I knew under my breath.

"'Morning, Marlene," he said, stretching his arms over his head as he spoke. "Someone got out on the wrong side of the bed."

He wore similar clothes to mine: a collared sports jacket, matching track pants with two stripes down the sides, and a pair of white trainers. The only difference was his tracksuit bore the red and gold colors of Gryffindor while mine had yellow and black for Hufflepuff.

"I got you a crumpet," said James.

He picked up a folded napkin from the feet of a knight statue. I opened the paper and admired the little round, griddle cake with melted butter on it. I mumbled my thanks before taking a massive bite.

James laughed. "The run'll wake you up, Marle."

As I finished off the crumpet, James led the way to the Hogwarts' grounds. We stepped out into the cool, September air and thick, highland fog, and all I could do was say, "Fuck."

James grinned, jogging in one place to keep himself warm. "Awake now?"

"Let's just go."

With a laugh, James started stretching out his arms and legs. I followed suit, copying the stretches from him and trying to remember what I'd been taught in P.E. class.

It was a typical morning in the highlands. A blanket of fog covered everything from the castle walls, to the lake, to the Forbidden Forest. I could just barely make out the dark tree line through the gray mist. Everything was damp and chilly, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into my warm, four-poster bed and snuggle deep beneath the covers. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

Once our stretching was complete, James started off across the school grounds. His trainers left indents in the wet grass as he went. I gave the school doors one last, forlorn look before following him.

At first, the run was miserable. I hated everything about it. My hands were cold, my legs felt stiff, and my body moved sluggishly. I cursed myself for ever agreeing to this. I thought I'd escaped the P.E. hell when I finished secondary school, but here I was, running and suffering all over again.

But then, Marlene's body started to respond to the exercise. The weariness in her muscles, the aching they'd had for the past few days, suddenly seemed to disappear. Her body followed the movements of running with a practiced, mechanical ease. With each step, her muscles grew more eager. The morning grogginess left me, and slowly, I began to feel the joy of running. All this was yet another sharp reminder that, even though I may look the same, I had become a different person.

I couldn't say how long we ran for. Eventually, James collapsed on the dew-coated bank beside the Great Lake. With a flick of his wand, James vanished the dew, and we sprawled out on newly dried grass.

A few other people were also mad enough to go out running in the chilly morning. I could make out the green clothes of a group of Slytherins running along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a lone Gryffindor boy moving steadily along the walls of the castle, and on the other side of the lake, jogged a pair of dark-haired girls in muggle exercise clothes. A shadow moved beneath the surface of the Great Lake, and every once in awhile, I spotted what looked suspiciously like a tentacle flicking above the gray waters.

James grinned at me. He was spread out on the slope, his legs extended in front of him and his arms propping his torso off the ground. He sat a little in front of me and had to look back to see my face when he spoke. "It feels good to get out and run again, doesn't it?"

"My body's been craving the exercise."

"Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday," said James.

"Huh?"

"My free mornings." James rolled his head from side to side, stretching his neck. "We should run then. Like we used to."

Getting up at such an ungodly hour three times a week was my idea of a nightmare. However, I found myself nodding. It would seem suspicious if I suddenly changed Marlene's habits. Plus, Marlene's body wanted the exercise, and if left to my own devices, I would never go for a single run. It was better to have James to keep me in check. "Aye right then. Let's do it."

James gave me a warm smile. His unruly, dark hair, damp with sweat, fell into his eyes. He shook his head, which only made his hair messier, and then he turned back to the lake to watch the Giant Squid swim backstroke. "I heard you've finally stopped fancying Sirius."

I groaned. I wanted to knock some sense into Marlene. She could do much better than a cad like that. "Who told you that?"

"No one."

It was definitely Lily.

I stared at the back of James's head as I tried to think of a good response. What would Marlene say? Finally, I let out a small sigh and said, "Yeah, I guess I have."

James laughed. "I'll have you know, I said you'd be good for Sirius."

"It's not that I'd be good for Sirius," I muttered. "It's that he'd be bad for me."

"You may be right. So, what caused you to move on? New bloke got your fancy?"

"No." I snorted. As if I had time for that. "It's just…I feel like, with the war… there's more important things going on. That's all."

"I see."

I glanced over at him and asked, "What about you and Lily?"

"I thought you said there were more important things."

"That was about me."

A wide grin spread across James face. "Are you saying Lily and I are different?"

"You are." I meant it. After all, they were the parents of Harry Potter. The fate of the magical world kind of depended on James and Lily shagging.

James let out a long, dramatic sigh and tipped his head back to stare up at the gray sky. "I never know what she's thinking."

"Ask her out, you idiot."

"You think I should?" James's hazel eyes were wide as he looked back at me.

"Yes. Next time you're on patrol or something together just ask her to join you in Hogsmeade."

"There's no Hogsmeade visits this year," James reminded me.

"Oh right." Another mistake. Thankfully, it seemed James hadn't taken it as such. He had gone back to staring at the lake, probably considering my advice. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my arms on top. "You're overthinking it."

"It's only…" James hesitated. "Remember last year?"

Before I could stop myself, I shook my head. I froze, terrified that I'd just admitted to not knowing something I should.

But James didn't seem to notice, and he said, almost as if in a daze, "That was the last time I asked her out. She shut me down so hard. Told me I was arrogant and pigheaded and a bully. She told me that she'd never like me and we'd never even be friends with the way I was going…" He trailed off when the hurt in his voice became too much.

"Well, that wasn't true," I said. "She's obviously at least friends with you now."

"Thanks for that."

From what I could gather, Marlene had played a big role in Lily not completely despising James. She'd probably defended James when Lily had wanted to break off all friendship with him in sixth year. Taking a gamble, I said, "Don't forget, you owe me."

A deep chuckle escaped James. "I won't. And now that Dumbledore's made us Head Boy and Girl, we've been spending even more time together." James let out a long sigh. "She's amazing."

I rolled my eyes skyward, glad that James had his head turned away. He was like a lovesick puppy. I didn't know how his friends had managed to put up with this for four years now. "Ask her out already. One last time—now that your head's deflated a little—can't hurt. If she says no, then she says no and we can all move on with our lives."

"You sound like Sirius."

My face automatically scrunched up, but I only said, "Sirius is giving good advice."

"Sirius at least has dating experience." James looked back at me, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Not all of us spend our years pining after one person."

"You're one to talk."

"Did you forget my brief, torrid affair with Joanna Stebbins last year?"

Obviously, I had. I wondered how badly that had gone, but I didn't dare ask. Instead, I focused on the new tidbit I'd learned: Marlene had never dated anyone before. That was going to be a pain. In my old life, I'd had two boyfriends in secondary school. The first had been significantly better than the second.

And then, I realized. Marlene had never had a boyfriend. So then…I was a virgin all over again.

I buried my face in my hands and let out a heavy sigh.

"You all right, Marle?" asked James.

"Great. Fucking fantastic." Then, realizing that I couldn't exactly tell James Potter that I'd become some sort of born-again virgin, I added, "A midge got me."

James waved his hand about lazily, as if to chase the imaginary midge away, and then said, "Did you see that the Tornadoes beat the Arrows this week?"

The conversation then fell to Quidditch. However, I'd prepared for this. While wearing the diadem, I'd read Quidditch Throughout the Ages as well as the sports pages of several recent Daily Prophets that I'd borrowed from Jenn. I'd also borrowed a book on the history of the Montrose Magpies. I was ready for all of James's questions and comments, and I liked to think I passed this test with flying colors.

Finally, after we had talked about Quidditch for far long than I'd ever thought possible, James and I headed back up to the castle. The sky had gotten lighter, and the fog had faded so that we could now see the outline of the mountains on the other side of the Great Lake.

We passed by the group of Slytherins on our way inside, and I saw some of them throwing dirty looks in our direction. James ignored them, and I followed suit. We walked back to the Great Hall where the early-rising students made their way inside for breakfast.

Before we parted for our respective dormitories, James asked, in a small, almost frightened voice, "Do you really think I should ask her out again?"

It was such a difference from the young man who had been confidentially telling me his goal of making Gryffindor the best Quidditch team Hogwarts had seen in years only moments before. I looked him straight in the eye. "Yes."

James nodded. "Thanks."

And with that, I turned away and headed back to the Hufflepuff Basement. The seventh-year boys were huddled around a table when I entered. One, who I'd learned was named Davey Gudgeon, greeted me with a big smile as I passed by. Another boy, Ernest Fawley, asked if I'd been running with Potter, and when I said yes, Gudgeon's smile faltered a little.

I stored that bit of information away as I made my way to the seventh-year girls' dorm. It would be cruel of me, I knew, to use Gudgeon's feelings for Marlene to my advantage. But I had made a promise. I would save the McKinnons. And if I had to trample over Davey Gudgeon's feelings to do it, then so be it.

"How was your run?" asked Jenn when I entered the dorm. "Did you see the Giant Squid?"

"Morn." I smiled at her. "It was good, and yes, we did. The squid was swimming backstroke."

"That's his favorite stroke," said Jenn, knowingly.

Dorcas sat on the edge of her bed, pulling socks on her feet. She looked over at Jenn with a soft smile. Then, her gaze flickered to me, and when she saw me watching her, she suddenly became preoccupied with getting her socks fitted perfectly.

Not for the first time, I wondered if I should say something to her, but I reminded myself that meddling in Dorcas's personal life would be too risky. I had my plan. I couldn't do anything to put that in jeopardy.

"We're on our way down to breakfast," said Dorcas. "Do you want us to wait for you?"

Jenn looked horrified. She shot me a pleading look.

"Go on ahead," I said. "I still have to clean up."

They bid me farewell, and I reassured them that they didn't have to save me any food. After showering, I pulled on one of the sets of muggle clothing in Marlene's drawers, grabbed my bookbag from the floor, and headed up to the Room of Requirement. I'd already had a crumpet for breakfast and, as much as I'd like to spend time with Marlene's friends, I had some defensive spells to learn in case Rosier decided to jump me in the halls.

I took the moving staircases to the seventh floor, but I didn't make it beyond the first corner. I heard voices, saw the green of a Slytherin scarf, and then I quickly stepped behind one of the stone pillars.

Just my luck.

Three Slytherins stood in the light of one of the stain-glass windows. They were in most of my classes, hanging towards the back of the room with Rosier. The girl was petite and curvy with a face that looked as though it belonged on an angel instead of a pureblood elitist like Edythe Dovetail. Standing beside her was her boyfriend, John Avery. He was built like a bear and tended to trail in his girlfriend's shadow. They stood facing a pale, wiry boy with greasy hair and bad acne. Severus Snape.

Members of Rosier's future Death Eater gang were the last people I wanted to run into right then. I wondered if I could somehow sneak past them and slip into the Room of Requirement. However, when I ran through the list of spells that I knew, I came up empty handed. Nox, for dimming lights. But that wouldn't be enough to hide me. Aberto, for opening doors. That wouldn't cause a big enough distraction. Incendio, for making fire. Fire would cause a distraction but likely I'd get in trouble for being a pyromaniac. Not a single one seemed useful in that situation, and none of the hexes or jinxes I knew would work against three people at once. Perhaps I should give up on the Room of Requirement and head back down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

But just as I decided to turn around, I noticed that the three friends seemed to be having an argument. Dovetail looked insistent on something, while her boyfriend nodded, and Snape seemed to be refusing whatever Dovetail wanted.

Keeping in the shadow of a pillar, I tried to concentrate on what they said. However, the three of them were just far away enough that I could only catch snippets of their conversation.

" …you're certainly a better choice than Goyle," said Dovetail.

"It's pointless." That was Snape.

"…have a choice…"

"…trouble."

"…ask Rosier?"

"You…he'd say…beneath him."

Dovetail made a noise of disgust. Then, she turned to her boyfriend and said a quick phrase that I couldn't quite make out.

From what I could tell, Dovetail wanted Snape to do something. Something that both Snape and Rosier would be better at than Goyle. What could that be? My first guess was dueling or something spellcasting-related. However, if this Goyle shared more than a name with the Gregory Goyle in the Harry Potter books, then being better than him at most anything was a very low standard to reach.

But if Snape was refusing to do something Dovetail wanted, then maybe, just maybe, Snape wasn't fully on board with the future Death Eater gang yet. If there was a tiny crack of doubt, then maybe I could pry it open.

Peter Pettigrew. Severus Snape. Regulus Black.

That was my plan. That was the start to how I was going to save the McKinnons.

And here was one of them, right in front of me, giving me a chance to see into his private life.

I watched Dovetail and Avery walk down the corridor, thankfully heading in the opposite direction from where I hid. Snape did not leave. He remained in the light of the window, fishing through his bookbag. He kept looking up and checking the corridor, as if he expected someone to appear.

I had wanted to wait until Helena reported back to me on her findings, but a chance to talk to Snape alone didn't come about easily. I just needed something to hook him. Something to use as bait. Of course, there was only one thing I knew Severus Snape could never resist.

Taking a deep breath, I schooled my face to an expression of casual nonchalance. I just so happened to be walking by. I was on my way to a study room. By pure coincidence, I stumbled across Snape. The scene played out in my head, and I willed myself to believe the lie. Then, I stepped out from the shadow of the pillar.

Immediately, Snape stopped rummaging through his bookbag and his gaze snapped to mine.

I opened my mouth, as if surprised, and said, "Oh, morn, Snape."

His eyes narrowed before he turned away, preparing to leave.

I let him take one step before I called out, "Wait. I actually wanted to talk to you."

He stopped. Slowly, he looked back at me. His voice was icy when he spoke. "What do you want, McKinnon?"

I stepped closer, cautiously, as if trying not to startle a wild animal. "It's about Lily."

The effect was immediate. Snape's shoulders stiffened, and his upper lip curled into almost a snarl. I would've thought he loathed Lily if it hadn't been for the sudden vulnerability that appeared in his dark eyes. For a single, brief moment, I was reminded of James, but that thought quickly disappeared when Snape snapped, "What about that mudblood?"

I bit back an angry retort and reminded myself that he wasn't irredeemable. He'd end up loyal to Dumbledore. He wasn't completely lost to the Death Eaters. I made my voice soft as I said, "She misses you."

"What game are you playing, McKinnon?" Snape wore a cold, scowling mask, and I wondered if I had gone about this the wrong way. But I'd gotten this far so I might as well commit. No turning back now.

Eyes wide. Mouth parted. Look slightly offended. "What? I'm not playing any game. I-I'm just worried about her."

"What does that have to do with me?" snapped Snape.

"You're her best friend." I said the words as if they were the most obvious thing in the world. "She's always hated that she cut things off with you. She doesn't talk about it much, but I can see it in her eyes. She checks up on you when she doesn't think anyone's looking." That last was true. I'd seen her steal glances in Potions and Transfiguration towards the back of the classroom. "I thought perhaps I could help you two reunite, and it might cheer her up a little."

Silence followed my words. Snape was looking at me, but his attention was somewhere far away.

Perhaps I'd played this card too early. Perhaps I should've waited to speak with Helena again. Perhaps I'd taken the wrong route to Snape. Lily had, of course, said no such thing about missing Snape. This could backfire terribly. But, Lily was a kind girl, and I did believe she worried about Snape. If I could get him to apologize, properly apologize, then maybe they could rekindle their friendship. In the books, Lily's death had caused Snape to betray Voldemort. Perhaps Lily's friendship could do the same.

Then, in a thick voice, Snape said, "Don't mess with me."

He walked away, his black robes swaying in time with his footsteps. Thin light filled the hallway through the stain-glass windows, and a chilly air seemed to have settled in the castle stone. Snape turned a corner and disappeared from my sight. I remained still, immobile, as I realized that I might have blown my one chance to get Snape on my side.

And that's when I got hit in the back of the head with a stunning spell.

When I came to, I found myself tied bound to a chair in a broom closet.

I wish I was joking.

I wish I could say it was all a dream, and I was actually still in my four-poster bed, fast asleep. However, when my eyes fluttered open, the first thing they landed on was a pile of crates and several brooms resting against the stone wall. The ceiling sloped and came dangerously close to hitting my forehead.

I tried to jump to my feet and run from whatever had hit me with a stunning spell, but my body couldn't move even a millimeter. My fingers, my hands, my arm, my legs, my feet, my toes, my head—none of it wanted to move. I remained perfectly still in my chair.

My heart thundered in my chest, and my head spun. Breathe. Focus on breathing. This had to be a type of body-bind curse. It wasn't a full petrificus totalus spell because it seemed my face could still make expressions, and I could probably speak if I tried. I wondered if I screamed and shouted, someone would come check on the source.

Finally, I noticed the other person in the broom closet with me. I was surprised it took me as long as I did, considering he was stocky and took up a good chunk of space in the cramped closet. He sat on wooden chair, holding a wand of white wood in one hand and an open textbook in the other. His dark eyes scanned over the words, and he used a flick of his wand to turn to the next page. It seemed he hadn't noticed I was awake yet.

Evan Rosier continued to be a thorn in my side. Well, less like a thorn and more like knife, considering he had me trapped in a broom closet for God knew what reason. Well, I knew what reason. The real question was: how was I going to convince him that I was the real Marlene McKinnon?

His eyes flicked up to mine, and suddenly, we were staring at one another.

"Locking and muffling spells have already been placed on this closet." He killed my plan of escape with his first words. He shut the textbook, and I realized he'd been doing the reading for our next Divination class. In that moment, I'd never hated someone more in my life.

Thankfully, I could channel all my hate into a response that I was fairly certain real Marlene would have said as well: "What the fucking hell are you doing?"

Rosier leaned back in his seat, completely unperturbed by the anger in my voice. Calmly, he said, "I'm trying to find out who's taken the place of my Divination partner and why."

I stiffened. He knew. Of course, he did. It was obvious from our Divination classes. Any thoughts I'd had that he was uncertain had been wishful thinking on my part. From the moment I'd sat down at that table with him, he'd known. Though, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how he'd known I wasn't Marlene so quickly.

That being said, I'd be damned if I ever let Rosier know that he was right. "What are you on about? 'Taken the place?' Who's taken my place? Are you mad? You could get expelled for this!"

"I could." Rosier didn't seem at all upset by the thought. "But that would require you to report me, and I don't think you're going to do that."

He was right. Not that he needed to know that. "Of course, I'm going to report you, you twally-washer! The second I'm out of this fucking body-bind, I'm going straight to Dumbledore's office and getting your pasty arse expelled."

"Will you?" Rosier leaned forward in his chair. "You know what I think? I think you'll never tell a soul. Because you know that as soon as someone asks me, I'll tell them you're not Marlene McKinnon. And even if they do believe you over me and they do expel me, there will always be that little doubt in the backs of their minds: 'What if she isn't McKinnon?' And you can't afford them to have that doubt."

My throat felt tight, and it took every scrap of willpower in me to keep my lungs working. Breathe. In and out. The broom closet suddenly felt impossibly small and his broad shoulders felt impossibly large.

"You're off your head," I told him. "Who ties up their Divination partner and traps them in a broom closet?"

"You're not my Divination partner." He frowned. "What have you done with McKinnon?"

"Nothing," I snapped. "You're the one doing things."

"Do you have her locked up in a trunk somewhere?" asked Rosier.

"You have me locked in a broom closet."

Rosier shook his head. "I think if you had her, you would know more. You could have interrogated her or used veritaserum. Instead, you have no idea what's going on." He paused. "I suppose you could be that foolish. But I do think you're smart enough to do as much research as you can." His eyebrows raised, and he looked at me expectantly. Then, he said, "That was a compliment."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so pigheaded."

He tapped his wand on the side of the chair. "Is she dead?"

Yes. "No. I am not dead. Unless you're going to kill me."

Rosier stared at me for a good, long moment. He seemed to be trying to read something in my eyes. I don't what he saw there, but he looked away, satisfied, and said, "I need answers. Killing you would only raise questions that I don't want to deal with."

"So instead, you lock me in a broom closet?"

"Yes."

"But why?" I couldn't put enough outrage and disbelief into that one word. "Why on earth is this a reasonable response to thinking I'm not me?"

"We're at war. And I need answers." Rosier spoke the words simply. Without any anger or sorrow. It was a matter of fact to him.

I opened my mouth to say something. The war is outside, not here. We're at Hogwarts. We're safe here. All of it felt ridiculous to hear in my own head. To pretend the war hadn't reached Hogwarts was childish. I only had to see that haunted expressions on the students' faces to know that the war touched everything.

"People die every day now." Rosier's stared down at the thin wand resting between his fingers as he spoke. "People under the Imperius Curse. People disguised with Polyjuice Potions. Inferi walking the streets in broad daylight. Muggles disappearing only to turn up dead or not at all. Giants roaming the countryside. Wizards and witches battling in the streets. Who knows what people will do to put an end to it." His eyes met mine. "What would you do?"

"Not pretend to be your Divination partner."

Rosier's mouth twitched into a half smile. "That's what I can't figure out. Why anyone would want to replace McKinnon? She's no one. A talented witch, sure, but not nearly talented enough to attract attention. But then, I thought perhaps that's why someone would want to replace her. She doesn't stand out, but she also has important friends."

I said nothing. Let him guess. He'd never guess the truth.

"But then, I had to wonder what someone replacing McKinnon would be trying to accomplish. Are you spying on someone? Trying to gather information on the other side. At first, I didn't think it could be me. But then, you thought my dad was a Death Eater yesterday, and I realized that maybe it was."

"H-h-how arrogant and self-absorbed can you get?" I spluttered the words. Did he actually think someone would disguise themselves as Marlene if they wanted to spy on him? A smart person would at least pretend to be one of his Slytherin friends.

Rosier ignored me. "But I thought that there must be a more effective choice if you wanted to get to me. Marlene's good friends with Lily Evans, Dorcas Meadowes, James Potter, Sirius Black, and all that lot, so when you replaced her—and did a right shit job of it, I'll add—you had to be working them—"

"I'm not working anyone, because I am Marlene McKinnon."

"See." Rosier pointed at me with his wand. "That's the problem. You're lying."

He spoke with such calm certainty that I found myself at a loss for words. What could I say to convince someone who was so confident? I wracked my brain for something that would, at the very least, plant a seed of doubt.

With a heavy sigh, I asked, "How long is this interrogation going to last? Are you going to keep me tied up here until I admit that I'm not me? Because I'll do that if it'll get me out of here. I'm not Marlene. Happy now?"

"Twelve hours."

"What?"

Rosier checked the black watch on his left wrist. "Eleven hours and thirty-three minutes now." He glanced over at me, saw my bemused expression and said, "The strongest recorded Polyjuice Potion lasted twelve hours. If you've brewed something stronger than that, then I say you deserve to get away with your disguise."

"You're mad."

He shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed, we're at war."

I hesitated and then took the chance while I had it. "Then you admit that you're on the other side. You're with Voldemort."

Rosier's heavy-lidded eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Why do you say that?"

"You keep saying we're at war. You know I'm on the side of muggles and muggleborns. So if we're on opposite sides, then you're with Voldemort." I tried to lift my hands, but the curse kept them fixed in place. "What do you think Dumbledore would do if he learned that you intend to join the Death Eaters as soon as you leave Hogwarts?"

"I don't know that you're on the side of muggles and muggleborns," said Rosier. "You could be one of Voldemort's Death Eaters disguised as Marlene."

"And what would I gain from that?"

"Information. It's common knowledge that Marlene's friends are close with Dumbledore. Likely, students with connections to Death Eaters shared that information, and you were sent to investigate."

"And who are those students, the ones sharing information with Death Eaters?"

"I don't know," said Rosier. "Maybe one of your Hufflepuffs. You find Voldemort's supporters in unexpected places."

So that was the game we were playing. He wanted to pretend he was on the same side as the Order. Except he knew that I knew his da was a Death Eater. I'd as much as told him last Divination class.

"I think I'm more likely to find Death Eaters in your common room," I said.

"Do you?" asked Rosier. He sounded genuinely surprised.

What an actor. If I hadn't been frozen into place, I probably would've jumped out of my seat in outrage.

Rosier frowned. "My friends talk about how dangerous Voldemort is as well. We feel sad at every tragedy we read about in the Daily Prophet."

This was how so many Death Eaters managed to stay hidden from the Ministry for so long, I realized. Damn good at lying and feigning their innocence. They could probably walk among regular witches and wizards, keeping their views hidden. Many Death Eaters probably held regular jobs. Some of them were likely aurors at the Ministry. Hidden in plain sight as they served Voldemort.

I stared at Rosier. Even though it was the weekend, unlike many students who donned muggle clothes, he still wore black robes over a dark gray waistcoat. I knew he would become a Death Eater. He could lie to me and put on his act all he liked. Just as he somehow knew I wasn't Marlene; I knew what he would become.

"I thought you were better than that, McKinnon," said Rosier suddenly. "Judging people by their house. Even though your friends and mine don't get along, you've always said we could."

I bit the insides of my cheeks. Fool Marlene. Fancying Sirius Black and then believing she could be friends with Evan Rosier. It might be possible that she had worse taste in men than I did.

"I'm not judging you by your house," I said. "I'm judging you by your views. Anyone who sides with Voldemort is someone I just can't be friends with."

"You think I'm a Death Eater?" Rosier scoffed.

"No, but I think you're going to make that choice. 'Follow in your dad's footsteps,' remember?"

Rosier's face sobered at that. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed me. The corners of his mouth twitched, but other than that, his face remained impassive. His eyes seemed to take in every millimeter of me, from my braid of auburn hair to my gray sweater and then to my bell-bottom jeans. I wriggled under the body-bind, but my limbs still refused to cooperate with me.

"What happens when I don't suddenly turn into someone else after twelve hours?" I asked when I could no longer endure his stare.

"Hm?" Rosier tilted his head slightly to the right. "I suppose I'll have to find another explanation."

"Imperius Curse?" I might as well provide suggestions. I knew they were the wrong answers and I had nothing else to do for eleven hours and thirty-three minutes or whatever it was.

"No," said Rosier. "You have none of those signs. A person under the Imperius Curse doesn't forget facts about their life."

Damn Marlene for not giving me more information.

"Polyjuice Potion seems the most likely," said Rosier. "But that doesn't mean there aren't other methods to become another person."

"Are you going to keep me in here until you find out?"

"No, twelve hours is probably about as long as I can keep you before your friends start getting worried." He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I figure you'll tell them you were studying or some other lie after I release you. I'm sure you can lie well enough about that at least."

I said nothing. What was there to say? He was right. I would never tell any of Marlene's friends about this. I couldn't afford it. Even the smallest bit of doubt could grow into full blown suspicion. But I'd never let Rosier know that.

"I won't lie to my friends," I said finally. "James'll get you back for this."

Rosier smirked. "I can't wait."

We sank in silence.

I struggled uselessly against the body-binding curse. Being unable to use my limbs was infuriating. Not only because it put me completely at the mercy of Rosier, but also because I was so used to having control over my own self. The loss of it filled me with an incredible frustration. I wanted to kick and scream. Maybe throw something at Rosier. However, I could do none of those things. Trapped, a prisoner in my own body.

I glowered at Rosier, wishing with all my heart that glares could kill.

Completely unconcerned, Rosier sat back in his chair. He picked up the textbook from the floor and continued with his Divination homework.

There was something maddening about the fact that his combover hair remained in perfect condition. He'd stunned me, brought me to this broom closet, and interrogated me without getting a single strand out of place.

I caught sight of my black walnut wand resting on top one of the boxes. It was so close, if I could just get my hands on it… And do what? I didn't know the counterspell to the body-bind curse. I should've focused on defensive spells sooner. As soon as I knew Rosier suspected me of being a fake, I should've learned every defensive spell in that book. And probably to occlumency now that I thought about it.

As I stared at the wand just beyond my reach, I realized the bigger problem. Rosier had gotten the wand out of my jacket pocket, but what would have happened if he'd decided to go through my bookbag? What would've happened if he found Ravenclaw's Diadem? It only took one look at the etched bird and the blue gemstone to realize what the silver crown was. Maybe I could hope that someone would think it a fake, but that was a long shot. All they had to do was try it on to learn the truth. And what about the piece of the Veil? Anyone would be suspicious about a shard of glass that burned them. What if someone figured out Marlene had stolen a piece of the Veil? God, how could I have put myself in such a position? Why hadn't I been more cautious, found a way to hide the diadem? I'd been trying to make moves that would help me save the McKinnons when I should've focused on protecting myself.

Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face, because Rosier glanced up his copy of Card Reading For All Occasions and asked, "Anything wrong?"

"No." The word came out clipped. I gulped and tried again, "Just bored. How much longer?"

Rosier checked his watch. "A little under eleven hours." He held up the textbook. "I could read aloud if you'd like."

The idea of listening to Rosier, with his proper English accent, read from our Divination textbook was enough to make me want to puke. He laughed at my expression and set the book aside. Then, he asked, "When's your birthday?"

"What?" I tried not to gawk at him.

"You want to prove to me that you're Marlene? This is how. When's your birthday?"

My eyes narrowed. This was a trick. It was always a trick with Rosier. He'd start out with easy questions and then spring a difficult one on me.

"I'm not playing this game, Rosier," I said. I shook my head as if disgusted with myself. "To think I defended you all those times to my friends."

Rosier's mouth curled into a smile. "Ah, so you figured out what you did wrong that first class. I suppose your friends told you."

"They didn't tell me anything."

"How'd you trick your friends into giving you that information?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. "I don't think they're aware that you're not Marlene yet, but they're definitely growing suspicious."

My heart skipped a beat at Rosier's words, and it took all my concentration not to let the fear show on my face. I couldn't let him know that his words affected me. I couldn't be afraid that my friends were suspicious because there was nothing to be suspicious of. I was Marlene McKinnon. I had been Marlene McKinnon my entire life. My ma was June McKinnon. My da was Collin McKinnon. My older brother was Owen. He married a witch named Yuki who's pregnant with their first child. My younger brother was Hartley, a fourth year Hufflepuff. That was my family. No one else's. Because I was Marlene McKinnon.

I took a deep, calming breath. It didn't matter what Evan Rosier threw at me for the next eleven hours. I would never admit that I wasn't Marlene. Rosier could try whatever tests he liked, I doubt he would ever guess the truth. As long as I kept my mistakes to a minimum, he'd eventually have to admit that I was the real Mar—

"You want to know how I knew right away?"

My eyes snapped to Rosier's, and I saw that he had been watching me. Amusement danced in his eyes. He seemed relaxed, leaning back in his seat and turning the white wand over in his hands.

"How?" I asked. My voice dripped with sarcasm. "What gave it away that I'm not me?"

"You and Marlene have completely different facial expressions."

Well, fuck this guy.