"Are you sure you want to go back? You don't have to after what happened. I am more than happy to continue your education back here at home. Not to mention Sirius Black is still at large. We must be cautious in -"

"Uncle, we already talked about this." I said, pulling back my waist long hair back into a messy ponytail that still touched the small of my back. "I'm going back to Hogwarts. That's final."

Kingsley had taken the last year off as a "sabbatical," working hard to catch me up on all of the studies I missed from my 2nd year going into my 3rd year. At the time, we both thought it best. Deep down, I knew it was killing him to step away from his profession as an Auror for a year- especially considering he was one of the best men they had for the job- not counting Mad-Eye Moody of course.

Kingsley had focused most of our time on Defense against the Dark Arts more than any other subject, followed by Charms and Transfiguration- Not that I really did any better in those under his tutelage. At best, I could freeze an enemy with Glacius , one of the few spells that reliably worked for me. At worst, my attempts to change a tortoise into a teapot resembled an exploded Keurig maker. Potions, the one subject I was actually decent at, he virtually neglected to my continued dismay. No, I need to go back for my fourth year. It was best for both of us.

"Very well. If you're sure Sylver." Kingsley assented. Proffering his arm for side-along apparition.

"I am." I said, grimacing, knowing full well the horrible sensation of twisting was yet to come. I took his arm and we vanished into air, trunk and all. It was as though someone had shoved me into a tube and pressed me into a pancake before restoring me to my original size. I gagged as we spun out of nothingness. With a quiet pop, we appeared into King's cross station where I boarded quickly, claiming a suite to myself.

"Is this cabin still available?" A girl with pale long hair asked. She was wearing an odd pair of glasses and clutched the Quibbler tight to her chest.

I gestured to all of the empty seats around me.

"I don't believe I've met you before. I'm Luna Lovegood. Are you a first year?" She puzzled, "No, you look much older. Maybe you took an aging potion- I wonder-"

"Definitely haven't taken an aging potion," I chuckled, "I'm Sylver Bones, and believe it or not, I'm a 4th year. I wasn't here last year or nearly the entire year before that- being petrified and all."

"Oh wow! You must be that Ravenclaw girl everyone talked about. The one who was petrified on Halloween. There were rumors you know, rumors you were dead and what not. Especially considering you weren't revived with the rest of the victims."

"Well, I'm definitely not dead." I commented. Not yet anyway . I remembered- the initial mandrake remedy hadn't worked for me. Uncle told me I wasn't unpetrified until late August of the next year on account of potion difficulties. Again, more to the reason why he kept me home last year. Apparently, Kingsley had to find someone to alter the potion for me- as the human crafted one was ineffective. "I'm surprised anyone noticed I was gone if I'm honest- I tend to keep to myself."

We chatted for a bit more before settling into a relaxing silence with Luna reading the quibbler upside down, and me, daydreaming, staring out the window, imagining swimming in the curved underwater caverns of the great lake.

Two boys passed by our cabin I didn't recognize. I met the gaze of the taller of the two when he halted, frozen. The smaller of the two noticed his abrupt stop and turned quizzically. He tugged the sleeve of his friend before staring at me, his jaw agape.

What a weird reaction.

Maybe they recognized me as the petrified girl who was in the hospital wing all year. My eyebrows clenched in confusion as I waved at them. The boys blushed in sync and waved back unsteadily before half running away from my view.

"That was odd." I said, leaning back to my seat.

"Not really if you think about it."

"What do you mean? Do you think they recognized me as the-" I coughed, 'petrified girl?"

"Well maybe- that and you are rather pretty- beautiful really- almost as though you're not quite… human. Are you related to any vampires maybe? Or Veela?"

I almost choked, my inner siren was flattered, and flattery was dangerous for a siren. Flattery made me lose control of myself. I shook my head vigorously, trying to abate the reckless feeling welling in my chest, "No vampires. Or whatever Veela are."

"Wait, say something again!" She was staring intently at me, her glasses spiraling all sorts of colors.

"What do you mean?" I replied unsteadily.

Luna clapped her hands, "That's it! It makes sense! You're part siren! The hair, the voice! Even your skin! That's what you are! My mother took me once to see the famed sirens of the North Sea- we listened to their songs until sunrise! It was so magical."

She sighed dreamily, as if lost in a very good memory.

This was bad. Very bad. Sirens are by nature very vain creatures. Compliments and flattery were always my undoing. I could feel myself slipping, losing my control while she, my hidden mermaid was rising to the surface.

"Well...I-"

"Can you sing?"

"I can, would you like to hear?" My siren softly spoke.

"I'd like that if you please."

I sang, quietly at first, almost like a lover's whisper. Languidly, I crescendoed, my song tumbling and spilling into every crevice of the space surrounding us. A siren's song does not have words, this everyone knows. No, our voices translate beyond the place of mere words, more like the purity of unadulterated emotions rising and falling, rushing like the tide and waves crashing into rocks. It becomes something beyond beauty- it becomes truth.

With a final inhale, I finished my sonata, eyes closed, savoring the flavor of notes on my tongue.

I opened my eyes, the slightest grin on my face. Luna was staring dreamily out the window and I found to my horror, that I was being watched by a large gathering of students who had without my knowing, piled outside the glass sliding door, their jaws slack and eyes misty.

Shit.

Well, if students hadn't known what I was before- they surely did now. There were whispers as I left the train. The boys were grinning, waving. From the girls, I received many pointed glares. One larger girl with black hair nearly shoved me to the ground as I made my way to the carriages. I yelped as I twisted my ankle, stumbling.

"Hey, be careful! You nearly knocked her over! You ok?" Luna asked as I swayed.

I nodded, wincing at the sharp pain in my leg.

"Don't mind them. Jealousy is such an ugly color don't you think?"

And just like that- I was home. Swimming in the icy cold depths of the great lake. Losing myself to the wonderful ritual of classes and swimming at the lake. Classes were the same as they ever were- though now, I was treated differently, more so from the girls in my own house who virtually all ignored me, barely tolerating my presence. It helped at least that Hogwarts was hosting the infamous Triwizard Tournament, our classes were joined by Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students alike which provided a welcome distraction.

At least the Beauxbaton girls were pleasant enough. Much more kind than the Ravenclaws, excluding Luna of course who had become my friend.

This year in potions, we shared a class with both Beauxbatons and Gryffindors. After a brief explanation by the Potion's Master, we were finally allowed to brew.

I glanced down into my textbook, my free hand moving to light my cauldron. I was just about to get up and travel to the student store room for several more ingredients when two large hands dumped several large twigs that smelled of cinnamon on my desk.

"I got you some of the bark!" The Gryffindor boy Seamus said rather nervously, "Thought you might need it."

"Oh," I nodded, "I supposed I did need those. Thanks I guess."

Seamus grinned as he left. Considerate I suppose. But then it happened a second time.

"Here are some thoraxes!"

And a third time.

"Brought you some more gurdy root- looked like you were running low!"

Then by the fourth time, he was offering to stir my potion for me.

This was utterly ridiculous- It was too much. Where was all of this coming from? My skin prickled uncomfortably.

"I think I'm good Seamus, but thank you for offering."

"Really, it's no trouble! I'm 'appy to help!"

He forcefully grabbed the stirrer from my hand. Now I was scowling, clearly annoyed.

"Miss Bones is perfectly capable of completing her own potion without your help Mr. Finnigan." A dark voice resounded behind me. Professor Snape was glowering at Seamus who made a half hearted excuse before slumping back to his own desk, clearly distraught.

" Thank you." I mouthed, looking up at him. He simply raised a single eyebrow and left, checking in on the putrid bubbling coming from Ron Weasley's potion.

There was a sudden yelp followed by a heavy crashing sound. Neville lay eagle spread on the stone floor, a dark wooden ladder half covering him. His robes were covered in strange luminescent liquid. He lay there, moaning, clutching his head.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, "You've just spilled my entire stock of Siren Tears! Did it occur to you just to take your dropper over as the potion only requires a- single - bloody- drop ! Now, thanks to your clumsiness- no one will be able to finish their potions! Twenty points from Gryffindor for your ineptitude!"

Neville looked like he was about to start bawling.

"Clean up and get out! All of you! On Monday, I expect a 24-inch scroll detailing all properties of each ingredient in the potion you should have brewed today, with a special emphasis on the rarity and difficulty to obtain true siren tears, also known as the tears of lament." He shot a rather nasty gaze at Neville before storming into his office, slamming the heavy door with a resounding thud. The class was groaning, each student eager to exit as quickly as possible to avoid his rage.

"You alright?" I asked, helping Neville to his feet, his face was red in shame.

Neville shook his head, "I hate this class. Every time, I manage to mess things up for everyone."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not as much as me." Neville replied glumly.

"Here, I'll clean up your supplies for you. I'll bring it up to you later. Why don't you head to the nurse, your head is bleeding you know." I raised the still clean rag from my pocket that I normally used to soak up any spills from my cauldron and dabbed his forehead.

"You sure?" Neville asked warily.

I nodded, smiling, "That's what friends are for." I handed over the bloody cloth to him, where he pressed it back to his temple and stumbled out of the classroom.

I made my way over to Neville's cauldron, wincing at the yellow fumes that burned from the sides. Something had definitely gone wrong there. I dumped it into the ever-consuming vat where the potion vanished in a puff of white smoke. When I had finished cleaning Neville's area, I made my own way back to my desk, glancing sadly at my nearly finished potion that bubbled happily. It was almost a shame to waste all of this hard work. Too bad- all I needed were the-

Wait a minute! I could fix this! I could fix all of this.

I skipped up to the closed door to Snape's office, rapping the mahogany wood with my knuckles.

"What?" A grumpy voice sounded, muffled by the thickness of the door.

"Professor!" I exclaimed, "I have an idea! I think I can solve your problem!"

There was a screeching shuffle, like the sound of wood grating on stone. The door opened.

"Unless you magically happen have a vial of siren tears in your back pocket I doubt you can help Longbottom's idiocy." He monotoned.

"I don't. But I can-"

"Then I fail to see how you can help. Good day Miss Bones." He began to shut the door, but I stuck my foot in-between the closing, holding back a wince from my squeezed toes.

Snape looked as though he was about to say something rather unkind, but I interrupted him before he had the chance to rebuke me.

"Sir, I really can help! Or at least I'm pretty sure I can." I rushed pleading with him, "All I need is an onion. Preferably a very strong one."

"You need...an onion?" He drawled.

"Yes...Do you trust me?" I asked.

He looked suspiciously at me, as though worried of foul play, before walking out of his office, down the swirling steps, ruffling through one of the student ingredient drawers. Without looking behind him, he tossed a white and green blur I barely managed to catch in the tips of my fingers.

Onion in hand, I returned to my desk, placing the orb on my cutting board all while searching for the familiar knife handle in my bag. Snape grabbed an empty chair, rotating it until it faced me. He sat down with a huff, legs and arms crossed, eyebrows narrowed skeptically.

"Well?" He said impatiently.

I ignored him, peeling back the outer layer, finely mincing the vegetable- my eyes watering already from the powerful stench.

" This is going to hurt ." I thought as I grabbed a spare vial. With my free hand, I coated my fingers in the smelly juice and rubbed it into both my eyes. That did the trick. Immediately, tears began streaming down my face. I hastily collected them all in the vial.

"I'm half-siren you know." I sobbed into the glass as Snape looked on in mixed curiosity turned to horror, "Not entirely sure if these will work, but they might do the trick."

After several minutes of crying. I held out the filled container towards him as I dabbed my eyes with the side of my robe. He held them up to the light, frowning. He took my dropper in hand, and transferred several large tears into the potion. After the 15th drop, my potion burbled into a pale green, several shades off from the final true color.

"Clearly not as potent, see how it lacks the signature glowing iridescence?" He said after a moment, "But it seems to work well enough in a larger quantity. Though they say the best tears come from heartbreak."

I shrugged, "Can't help with that. Never been heartbroken."

"Professor, can I ask you something?" I said after a moment.

He nodded, still looking into the vial which was still more than five-sixths full.

"I know Neville's a bit clumsy, but is it possible you could be a little more kind towards him? He really hasn't had much in the way of happiness in his life and he's rather sensitive. In return, I'll give you all the siren tears you need to make up for his spill."

"That's a tall order-" Snape clicked. I could have sworn I saw a flash of a smile. "Now that request is going to take more than tears to convince me."

"I'll bring you ingredients from the lake." I bargained. "Rare bits you'd have a hard time finding anywhere else."

He considered it then, fingers drumming absentmindedly on my table.

"Show me first, then we'll talk about your...conditions." With a flick of his wrist he dismissed me.

I found myself hopping out of the potion's classroom, a cauldron swinging from both arms, whistling. A fierce determination on my face as I first dropped off Neville's supplies in the Hospital wing before skipping out towards the Black Lake.