Headmistress McGonagall didn't intervene when Drucy began to cry. She simply returned to her seat, sat quietly for a moment, then offered the girl some tea. Drucy sipped at it as her tears subsided. She started to reach for her sleeve, paused, remembering Snape's mild rebuke, and took her handkerchief instead. McGonagall looked pleased at her manners, and Drucy managed a weak smile. Then the door opened, and Susan Bones, the pleasant, square-faced, Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, entered. "What's all this about, then?" she asked instantly. "The castle has been buzzing tonight-"

"Ah, good, Professor Bones, come have a seat," McGonagall offered. "Yes, we have an unusual situation with a wand here. I'd value your expertise. It's possible that the wand has performed a curse, perhaps an Unforgivable Curse, by itself."

"Really!" Professor Bones settled down in a chair, equidistant from McGonagall and Drucy, making a neat little triangle of conversation. "No first-year is going to know Unforgivable Curses, and wands almost never pick things up on their own. I admit I'm a skeptic."

"We will know in a moment," McGonagall answered. She turned to Drucy. "Miss Bulstrode, your wand, please."

Drucy faltered as she pulled the wand slowly from her pocket. What if it did something to the Headmistress? What if it… Professor Bones smiled at her hesitation. "You're not in any trouble, honey," she told Drucy. "And Prof - sorry - Headmistress McGonagall is very skilled. She won't hurt it. It's alright." Drucy took a deep, shaky breath, and did her best to silently order the wand to behave itself before handing it over. As McGonagall took hold of it, a bunch of green and gold sparks shot out of the tip, and then the wand remained still. McGonagall raised her eyebrows again as she held it up, examining it, and offered it to Professor Bones for her own examination. "That's quite the length," Professor Bones commented, handing it back to McGonagall. The Headmistress drew her own wand, nodded to Bones, and touched the tips together. "Priori Incantatem," she ordered.

Drucy's wand shuddered, and a funny, twisted shadow of a shape rose from it. The shape looked like a badly knotted clot of string. It coiled around itself as they watched, becoming more and more complex, and harder and harder to sort out. Then it dissipated into a wisp of smoke, which faded away.

"Well, that's not an Unforgivable Curse," Bones remarked, looking at the wand with interest.

"Did you recognize it?" McGonagall asked.

Bones shook her head.

"Miss Bulstrode," McGonagall started, then paused. "Drucilla. Please give us the information on this wand."

Drucy remained silent for a moment in horror. Would her mother be mad at her? Was her mother already mad at her? "You've been very cooperative so far," McGonagall added. "We can weigh the wand to find out what it is. Please tell us."

"English Oak," Drucy responded shakily. "Thirteen inches. Basilisk core."

"Yes, that sounds right," McGonagall said calmly, no trace of surprise in her voice. She offered the wand back to Professor Bones, who looked surprised enough for both of them. "Ollivander wrote to me at the beginning of term to let me know that he had sold a basilisk wand, one of a kind, to a Hogwarts first-year. When I heard that Miss Bulstrode was making odd hissing noises at her misbehaving wand…"

"You're a Parselmouth," Bones told Drucy. She held the wand up to examine it again, then offered it back to Drucy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Mother told me to not tell anyone, to not speak it at all in school," Drucy blurted out. Even with the bit of kindness she had seen from the Headmistress, it was still easier to talk to Professor Bones. Then again, the woman was the head of Hufflepuff House. Drucy realized for a moment that she could have been Drucy's own Head of House, if the Hat had placed her as it wanted. "She said that people would be suspicious of me, that the world wasn't a place where a Parselmouth would be welcome anymore. She said that someone really bad was a Parselmouth, and now people hated them."

"She's right," Bones told McGonagall simply. "Mrs. Bulstrode doesn't have the best opinion of us, and I'm afraid it's not entirely unjustified."

McGonagall frowned, thinking for a moment. She started to speak, paused, and started again. "Drucilla… did you learn this spell at home? From your mother? Or… your father?"

"No!" Drucy exclaimed in horror. "No," Professor Bones said firmly, at the exact same time. "He would never!" Drucy continued, her voice rising in upset. "I've studied Durmstrang's program and the spells marking both of the recent Wizarding Wars," Bones continued, speaking at the same time as Drucy. "He taught me how to make flowers come out the tip, but I can't do it, the wand won't do the spell," Drucy finished miserably, and Bones waited until she fell silent before finishing her own answer. "Whatever this is, it's a brand-new spell, and it very well may be a function of the basilisk from which the core was taken. It was from the Chamber of Secrets, wasn't it?"

"I don't know," Drucy admitted, and McGonagall answered "Yes," firmly, at the same time. The Headmistress sighed and looked back at Drucy. "I apologize," she said. "I withdraw my question."

"And this was, no doubt, why Mrs. Bulstrode told her daughter to conceal her particular gift from us," Professor Bones noted wryly. "Given that, Headmistress, how do you propose we continue?"

"Who saw you speak to the wand, Drucilla?" McGonagall asked, her voice turning kind. "How many people know?"

Drucy took a moment to think. "The two of you, Brian, Matt Briar and his two buddies, Daniel Jacobs - he's in Gryffindor, Hagrid, Professor Slughorn and Longbottom since they were here earlier, and, uhm.." She knew she had to tell the truth. "Severus Snape's portrait," she finished in a small voice.

"I knew that part," McGonagall said dryly. "So, basically, the entire school will know by tomorrow. I'll call in the rest of the teachers and have a word with them. Drucilla, I'll be blunt. your secret is basically wide-open. You no longer have a reason to conceal it. On top of that, you may find your wand easier to handle if you speak to it, even during class. If you misuse this.. Gift… you will get into trouble, but I will need proof that you have misused it. Simply speaking it is not proof. I'll write to your mother-"

"Oh, please don't, please, Headmistress…" poor Drucy gasped miserably. "She'll be so angry…"

"By the time I have finished with her," McGonagall asserted, "she won't be. I know it may be hard to believe right now, Drucilla, but you are not in trouble. That doesn't mean that we're making your life any easier. In the long run, though, I think you'll find that we have made it better." She sighed again, looking weary for a moment. "Susan, if you would check, I think you'll find that our Slytherin prefect has returned with company. Dinner is half-past. We should let Miss Bulstrode go. I'd like you to stay for a moment longer."

Drucy wobbled as she stood from the chair. She felt like a towel that had been drenched, wrung, drenched, and wrung again. She didn't want to see anybody right now, not even Daniel or Roenna, and especially not Brian. As the door opened, though, Esme entered, and Drucy let out a breath of relief that she didn't realize she was holding. "Drucilla has had a rough day," the Headmistress told Esme, "and should be taken straight to her room. I will see to it that she has a meal waiting for her. Now is not the time to ask too many questions."

Esme looked like she was bursting with questions, but she remained silent as she wrapped an arm around Drucy's shoulders and led her down the circular stairs, through the castle, and down to the dungeon. Drucy was the one who finally spoke, shakily and in Parseltongue, as they reached the familiar wall. "Just let me in, it's been a long day." The Slytherin common room still had several students in it, including Roenna, who immediately rose and headed towards Drucy, looking concerned. Drucy didn't think she could bear her friend's concern right now. She rested her hand on Roenna's shoulder to let her know that she was not being ignored. "Later, please," she said shakily. Roenna clasped her hand for a moment and then let her go. Esme led her to her room, where Drucy drew her wand and started undoing the protections numbly. Her wand seemed subdued, and did its work quietly and efficiently. When they entered, they found the little table in her suite laid out already with a lovely supper. Drucy suddenly felt dizzy with hunger, and was very glad to sit herself down and eat.

"Well," Drucy finally said, when most of the dinner was eaten, "my secret identity is busted wide open. Mom's going to be furious. I don't even know what she's going to say to me. I bet everyone thinks I cursed Matt Briar to death or something. I don't even know why I got up this morning."

Esme shook her head, sitting in the other chair at Drucy's little table, facing the fire. "I won't deny they're spooked. The Gryffindors especially. You've probably solved your bully problem, for a while, anyways, and you didn't even have to attack him yourself. You're not in trouble. You don't have to hide your gift anymore. I'd say you've had a good day." Drucy looked up at her sister in shock, and Esme shook her head with a chuckle. "Drucy, you're a Slytherin. It's past time you started trying to think like one. Remember what the Hat said this year? We're not mean or cowardly. You could've started shooting off curses as soon as he pushed you into the classroom, and you could have taken advantage of his use of force to make them really vile."

Drucy was too tired to respond back, and she took a moment to really think about her sister's words. "Mom's going to be furious…" she said quietly.

Esme took a deep breath. "Drucy, Mom is… She's good for us, and she's good to us. She's done everything she needed to protect us. The wizarding world is changing, and we have our position because she's pretty nearly the only one who listened and bowed to the change instead of resisting it. She's not in Gryffindor. She doesn't need to cling to her pride. She's going to listen to the Headmistress, and she's probably going to keep telling you to be cautious, and, frankly, I agree with her. But she's not going to be angry with you, and she's not going to punish you. If anything, she's feared for you, and she just sounds sharper when she's afraid."

Drucy hadn't thought of this. Her mother was so sharp, so stern, so much in control, Drucy didn't even think she could be afraid. "Daddy's not afraid," she mused. "He wanted me to come here. He's never fussed about my wand, or talking to snakes."

"Daddy is like Grandma Bellatrix," Esme told her. "Now, don't make that face, Drucy. Think past what she did, to what she was. She found something to believe in, and she gave herself up to it. Daddy is optimistic like that, almost to a fault. He thinks it's his fault that people look down on him, because of his parentage. The hardest thing for him to take is having his faith in people shaken. Drucy, you're like him. You find a cause, you believe in people, and you think it's your own fault when things go wrong. You heard the Headmistress, just before she called me in. You're not in trouble!"

"Are you like Mom?" Drucy asked Esme wryly.

Esme chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I am. Learn from it, Drucy. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a better day. Do you want me to wait for you and walk you to breakfast?"

Drucy immediately thought, Yes! Yes, I do! I don't want to go out "in public" for the first time after this mess, alone! She was nearly surprised by her own self when she finally replied, "No. I'll be alright. Thanks for bringing me back and staying through supper."

Once Esme had left the room and Drucy had set her usual evening protections over it, the remains of the supper having disappeared some time when she had her back turned to the table, Drucy settled down in her bed, missing her snake, and indulged in a request that was starting to become a semi-regular ritual. "Topsy, please come to me and sing me a song so that I can sleep…"

Of course, as always, the family house-elf came right away.