Hey, sorry for the forty-eight-hour delay between chapters. I was busy trying to plot out the next couple of books. It's looking good. Hopefully I can keep the momentum and patience to reach the end of DH. Fingers crossed.

The next evening Hilda met Frida outside the Great Hall "What are we waiting for?"

"Our Slytherin student is going to meet us up here and lead us down.

"Frida?" a Slytherin first-year emerged from behind a column. "Who's with you?" she asked.

"Hi, Veronica. This is Hilda. She's going to study with us tonight."

"She's a Gryffindor," Veronica hissed, eying Hilda suspiciously. "She can't come."

"Why not?" Hilda demanded. "I need Frida's help as much as you do."

"I'm risking my neck enough getting Frida into the Slytherin dormitories," Veronica replied. "If I'm caught bringing a Gryffindor into the Snake's Den, I'll never hear the end of it. You can't come, and that's that."

"Veronica, Hilda's my friend, and she needs my help just as much as you do. If she's not allowed to study with us, then the deal is off."

Veronica scowled. "Fine! I'll just study on my own. My grade's on you, Aiken!" she turned and stormed away in a huff.

Frida's shoulders fell. "Well, that was a bust."

"I'm sorry, Frida. I shouldn't have come along."

"Frida smiled. "It's alright. Now we can study one-one-one."

Hilda's face went white. "What?"

"C'mon," Frida grabbed Hilda's hand and walked them towards the Great Hall. "We'll grab David and get started on the Goblin Rebellion essay. We can even peer review! This'll be so much fun!"

And I thought I was crazy, the Voice said.

"What have I done?" Hilda whispered as she was dragged away to an evening's torture at the hands of her best friend.

The next day, Hilda tried again to brainstorm a way of getting into the Slytherin dorms. She finally tracked down the entrance, an apparently bare stone wall located around the corner from Snape's classroom. She had been running late to class, so too had Veronica, as she emerged from the hidden entrance just as Hilda was passing by. "Come to spy?" she asked, glowering.

"Just on my way to class," Hilda replied, hiding her grin.

However, just because she now knew where to get in didn't mean she knew how. Frustratingly, it was the Voice who came up with the solution the next morning in the Great Hall.

Frida and David joined her at breakfast, but Hilda noticed that the Gryffindor table was missing several students. "Where's Harry?" she asked, craning her neck to see down either end of the table.

"Quidditch game's today," Ron said, putting a troll-sized helping of bacon onto his plate. "It's the big match against Slytherin; Wood's had them rehearsing the game plan since three o'clock."

"Three in the morning?" Frida asked.

"No, three in the afternoon," Neville corrected her. "Apparently they bunked in the locker rooms last night."

"So, everyone's going to this game?" Hilda asked.

Ron nodded. "Of course, the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry is the most important match of the year."

"I thought that was the Ravenclaw/Slytherin match," Frida said.

"I thought it was the Hufflepuff/Slytherin match," David said.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course, everyone hates the Slytherin team. But Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup for the first time in ages last year, and everyone's looking for a repeat."

"Obviously not everyone, Ron," Hermione said, gesturing to David and Frida.

Ron blushed. "Oh, right." He glanced down at his watch and gave a start. "Game starts in an hour. C'mon, Hermione, we need to go now to get the best seats."

"You mean the ones closest to Hagrid?" Hermione asked, smiling.

"He always brings more snacks than he can eat alone. We wouldn't want them to go to waste. Hilda, are you coming?"

The Slytherin Dorms would be empty, the Voice said. There's no better time.

"Actually, I'm going to stay in and work on my Charms homework," Hilda said, getting up from the table and collecting her things. Twig looked up from under her chair with disbelief. Obviously, the word 'snacks' had gotten him excited. "Don't worry, boy, you can go." Twig wagged his tail and trotted over to Frida and David. "I'll try and get to the match before it ends," she told them, before hurrying out of the Hall.

"Alright," she said to herself as she made her way up the stairs. "I hate to ask, but I assume you have a plan?"

Yes, but you probably won't like it, Miss Goody-Goody.

"Just tell me."

It would be easy to get into the Slytherin dorms. You can slip in when someone comes or goes.

"Yes, but the trick is doing so without being seen," Hilda growled before screeching to a halt before the Fat Lady. "Wait, are you suggesting…"

No one will know that you took it. You'll have it back before the end of the game.

"I am not stealing from Harry!" she hissed.

'Stealing,' the Voice gave a derisive snort. Such a petty human squabble. I prefer the term 'borrowing' or 'long-term loan'.

"I will not do it."

"Are you talking to me?" Hilda glanced up at the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was giving the first year a confused look.

"No, sorry. Basilisk," she said, giving the portrait the password.

Look, if you have any ideas on how to get into the Slytherin rooms, then, by all means, tell me. I can read your mind, however, and I see you're drawing a blank.

"We could be caught," she said.

We run that risk regardless of our plan. If you didn't want to get in trouble, you wouldn't be trying to break into a rival house dormitory.

Hilda sighed. "Fine, but just because I'm doing this doesn't mean we're suddenly friends. We're allies"

Alliances and friendships are both the same, really, the Voice mused. Except friends are easier to manipulate than allies.

"Friendships aren't about manipulation."

Oh, I'm sorry, was it me or you who tried to use their 'friend' Frida to get into the Slytherin dorms?

Hilda paused, then scowled. "Shut up."

I thought so.

"Hilda?" A voice brought her back startled into the real world. She realized that she was halfway up the steps leading to the boy's dormitory and that Colin Creevey was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at her strangely. "Why are you coming up to the boy's dormitory?"

Hilda thought quickly. "Oh, wow, I must have zoned out. A lot on my mind."

"Yeah, you were talking to yourself about something. You're not going to the Quidditch match?"

Hilda was about to answer when her eyes fell upon the camera in Colin's hands. "I am, I just came to get my scarf."

"You're wearing your scarf."

"Oh, silly me. Well, guess I'm ready."

What are you doing? The voice asked, annoyed.

I have a plan that doesn't involve breaking and entering and theft, Hilda replied as she and Colin went back through the portrait entrance and descended the staircase.

"Say, Colin," Hilda said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "How good are you with that camera?"

"I like to think I'm pretty good. I've managed to sell a few of my pictures of Harry to the Prophet."

"I thought you were going to give him a break."

Colin gave a sheepish smile. "The Prophet wants photos, and I need the money. My darkroom here is pretty amateur, but McGonagall is willing to help me build one if I can raise half the money."

Bingo. Hilda smiled. "If you need money, I may have a job for you."

"Really?" he said, perked up. "What do you need?"

"I think Malfoy is involved in Mrs. Norris's accident, but I don't have proof," Hilda explained, leaning in towards Colin conspiratorially. "I need someone to tail him at night and photograph."

"So, you want me to stalk Malfoy and take pictures if I catch him doing anything suspicious?"

"Right."

Colin rubbed his chin. "I'd be interested if the money was right."

"Ten galleons?"

"Twenty galleons."

"Fifteen, and I'll do your History of Magic homework for a month."

"Deal!" They shook on it.

"Thanks, Colin."

"Glad to help you out."

So we're not doing anything illegal? The Voice asked, audibly disappointed. Buzzkill.

Hilda smiled. "You are helping, in more ways than one."

"I thought you were doing schoolwork," Frida said as Hilda and Colin took their seats beside her and David on the bleachers. Twig leapt into Hilda's lap, tail wagging, and settled in.

"I remembered I'd already done it," Hilda replied, stroking Twig behind the ears.

"You really are lost in your head today," Colin remarked. "She almost walked up into the boy's dormitory."

Ron chuckled, spewing bits of popcorn on Hermione's lap. "That would have been something. Good thing Colin stopped you."

"Don't talk with your mouthful, Ron," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Hilda agreed. "He really saved me."

The Gryffindor bleachers broke out into wild cheers as the red and gold team entered the field. The cheering swiftly changed to booing as the Slytherins followed. After tense handshakes between the teams, they took off on their brooms, the balls were released, and the game began.

"Malfoy obviously charmed the bludger to attack Harry," Ron snarled as they watched Harry being helped off the field by Hagrid and Lockhart.

"How would he be able to do that?" Hermione asked. "That would require complex spellwork way beyond our skill level."

"I just know he did it," Ron said.

Hilda fell back to walk beside Colin. "You're on," she whispered. Colin gave her a smile and a mock salute before he peeled off from the group, trailing behind the Slytherin team at a respectable distance.

"Where's Colin going?" David asked.

"The Prophet's paying him for photos of the Quidditch match," Hilda lied.

"He's doing well for himself," Hermione noted. "I'm happy for him.

"Maybe I should get a camera," Ron thought aloud.

Colin kept at least thirty paces behind Malfoy, camera at the ready. So far, he hadn't done anything to raise suspicion. He'd changed in the locker room, had dinner in the Great Hall, then Malfoy shed his gorillas Crabbe and Goyle and went to the library to get some last-minute study time. Ten minutes before curfew, he left and headed for the dungeons.

As he watched Malfoy disappear into the Slytherin Dormitory, Colin huffed in frustration. "At least I'm getting paid to do nothing," he muttered, shouldering his camera and heading for the stairs.

He'd just reached the third-floor landing when a deep rumbling noise caught his attention. His eyes widened as he watched a bulge in the stonework travel down the side corridor, heading for the spot where Mrs. Norris had been petrified. Pulling the lens cap off his camera, he ran after. Rounding the corner, he raised the camera to his eye and pressed the shutter button. The flashbulb went off, illuminating the monster as it turned its head in surprise. Before Colin could scream, his vocal cords froze up, along with the rest of him. His camera fell from his stiff hands, smashing as it struck the floor.

Hilda whistled as she made her way into the great hall, taking her seat at the Gryffindor table. She glanced around, searching the table. "Anyone seen Colin?" she asked, picking up a muffin.

There was a dead silence around her. She looked around. Ron was staring at her in disbelief. Hermione covered her mouth, eyes wide. The Weasley twins looked grim. "You haven't heard?" Fred asked.

"Heard what?" Hilda asked slowly, replacing the muffin.

Fred took a deep breath. "Colin's in the hospital wing—

—He was petrified last night."

"Hilda, wait!" Hermione cried, but the first year was already on her feet and racing out of the great hall.

Hilda dashed through the school, ducking and dodging her way through the throng of students. One unfortunate Slytherin fourth-year didn't clear the way in time and was knocked off his feet, his charms homework flying in the air.

She passed David and Frida as they were coming in. "Hilda!" Frida called out. "What's wrong?"

She reached the infirmary doors and pushed them open, startling Nurse Pomfrey. "Miss Dahl!" she said, standing up. "Visiting hours begin at two."

Hilda ignored her and ran down the row of cots until she reached Colin's bed. She dropped to her knees beside the boy and looked into his glassy eyes. "Colin, can you hear me?" she asked. "I'm sorry," she reached out and grabbed Colin's arm. "I'm so sorry."

"Hilda," she looked over at the next bed. Harry was pulling on his robes, presumably having just been released from the infirmary. "He can't hear you."

"This is all my fault," she said.

Harry waved her over and had her sit down on the cot next to him. "How is it your fault?" he asked.

"I paid him to spy on Malfoy. It's because of me he's here"

Harry shook his head. "It isn't your fault."

"He wouldn't have been out after curfew if I hadn't made him do it."

"Hilda, are you the Heir of Slytherin?"

Hilda gave a start. "No," she stuttered. "Of course not."

"Then it's not your fault," Dumbledore said, his face softening. "It may have been because of you that Colin was in that hallway, but whatever it was that put him on that cot was not of your doing."

"It was Malfoy," Hilda said matter-of-factly. "He must have caught Colin following him and put the beast on him." Her anger welled up. "I'm going to kill him," she growled. Harry noticed her hands start to glow.

"Hilda, please don't," Harry said, pulling the girl into a hug. For a few moments, Hilda didn't quite know what was happening, but as her anger faded, she started to blush and returned the hug awkwardly. Harry pulled away and smiled confidently. "We're not going to kill him."

Hilda sighed. "I know, but I tried to catch him, and look where it got me," she looked over at Colin. "Look where it got Colin." We're out of our league. We need to leave it to the professors and Dumbledore."

Harry shook his head. "We're not giving up. Hermione has a plan, and we're going to break into the Slytherin dorms and get Malfoy to confess."

"How on earth are you going to do that?"

"I can't say," Harry said, making sure Nurse Pomfrey wasn't listening in. "It's not entirely legal."

Hilda looked away. "That doesn't matter. What's important is that we get him" She turned back to Harry and smiled. "For Colin."

And for revenge, the Voice chimed in. And also for fun.

Harry put his arm around Hilda and pulled her in for an awkward half-hug. "For Colin."