"The chains had unbreakable charms cast on them," the dragon tamer said. He was short and stocky, with muscled arms. He was so freckled that he looked tan.

He had a familiar set of red hair.

"I don't understand how this could have happened," he said. "It never has before. There's never been any problem with the chains."

"Have they been tampered with?" Rowle asked.

Everyone leaned over the chains in question.

"Yes," I said.

I'd been called over to answer questions about my muggleborn's performance in defeating the dragon. I'd barely started answering questions when the dragon tamer had interrupted.

"What?"

"Look at them," I said. I pointed. "Someone used a saw on that."

"A saw?" Karkarov said from behind me. "It is a muggleborn who did it."

"Or someone who wanted to blame the muggleborn," I said mildly. "It'd be easy too; dispel the hardening spell on the chain and add one to the saw."

"It would have been easier to have used a spell," the dragon tamer said.

He was a pureblood then.

"The point was for the chain to hold but snap when the dragon was enraged," I said.

"Ah," Karkarov said. "You are admitting you did it to make your muggleborn look good."

"I suspected something like this might have happened," I said. "So I had them prepared for everything from sabotage to an attack from Durmstrang."

"What would you have done, little girl?"

"Killed you first," I said. "Since you are the only threat in the entire group. Fortunately, you chose not to attack me today."

"Did you hear her threaten me?" Karakarov bellowed.

"I heard her speak hypothetically," Rowle said. He glanced at me scowled and shook his head. "Although it is generally bad form to make even hypothetical threats toward guests."

"What do you think happened?" Moody asked me.

"Who arranged my seats?" I asked instead.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch were both insistent that you and Mr. Potter sit on the front row."

"It makes for good optics," Bagman said.

I doubted that Bagman was the person who'd tried to have me killed; he'd been sitting a couple of seats away from us, likely hoping to get in the photographs we were in and thereby somehow increase his standing.

I glanced over at Crouch, who shrugged.

"It would look good in the papers, so it sounded like a good idea."

"We found this on the front of the stands where Potter and Hebert were sitting," Tonks said, approaching. She had a liquid in a vial.

Moody unstoppered it and sniffed.

It had the same acrid scent that I'd thought came from the dragon earlier. Had that what I'd been smelling instead?

He shook his head, puzzled.

The dragon handler looked at the vial, then sniffed it. He winced.

"It's a glandular secretion from a dragon," he said. "It's from another female. They tend to kill each other's eggs, and so they become protective and aggressive."

I'd expected to smell dragon, even with my insects, and I'd smelled dragon. It was clever.

Was Karkarov that clever, or was it Crouch?

Was the attack directed at me, Harry, or both of us?

It was frustrating. I wanted to go back to my room to check my foe glass, but the Ministry had questions.

"Did you plan all this?" Moody asked.

I shook my head.

"Is impossible," Karkarov said. "Wizards don't act together like that."

"Mine do," I said smugly.

Moody was staring at the crowd in the stands.

"Not one of em ran," he said. He glanced sharply at me. "I'd have had trouble getting rookie aurors to stand fast in that situation, much less schoolkids."

"Discipline," I said. "It's almost as important as constant vigilance."

"You've created an army," Madam Maxime said. "Which is against international law."

I spread my hands.

"I've taught a few of my friends the value of cooperation. We are all loyal subjects of the Ministry."

None of them looked convinced.

"At worst we're a militia," I said.

"Militias aren't allowed either," Moody said.

"A social club then," I said smoothly. "People learning how to protect each other in a country that seems unwilling to protect them."

"That sounds awfully like sedition," he said.

"I'm an American," I said. "We're a pretty seditious lot. We're on the side of the current administration, so I don't see the problem."

"And if the administration changes?"

"We're working on keeping that from happening," I said. "Our current government is working on being just and fair, and I think that's something anyone can get behind."

"Is there anything else we can learn?" Rowle asked. "Because I'd like to announce the results so we can all go home."

There was a quick consensus, and I slipped away, heading for my room to look at my foe glass.

"I'd have thought that would be scarier," Hermione said. She immediately set out to follow me."But after the dementors... well, all the dragon could do was kill you painfully."

I nodded, but I kept on walking.

"Is that why nothing seems to bother you?" she asked.

I stopped and stared at her.

"Things bother me," I said. "I just don't let them stop me."

"It just seems like things like pain don't seem to phase you."

"It's always possible to find a new thing to measure everything bad that happens to you against," I said. "Experience enough horror and regular things don"t seem so bad."

"Eventually you become the horror," she said.

I glanced at her sharply.

Was that a sort of veiled criticism? Her voice was carefully neutral and she was looking off into the distance.

"I do what I have to do," I said. "To protect the people I'm responsible for."

"The tactics today worked," she said. "Although I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest when I got foamed."

"Foaming our own people... I'll want to know who came up with that one," I said.

"You're angry?"

"I want to encourage that kind of creativity, but I needed my mobility."

We both heard cheering in from the stands behind us.

"Edmund is in the lead," I said absently. "Although not by much. Despite Karkarov deliberately sabotaging his score."

Hermione stared at me.

"Are you ever going to tell me?"

"When the last Death Eater is dead, you can ask me anything, and I promise I'll answer."

"I'll hold you to that," she said.

We made our way straight to our respective rooms.

The foe glass wasn't of any help; Karkarov and the younger Crouch seemed equally distant, which is to say that their faces were pressed up against the glass making it hard to see anyone else. There was no sign of the older Crouch.

I'd sniffed the older Crouch for any smell of polyjuice, and I hadn't detected any. I'd sent bugs to check all of the strangers on the grounds.

However, polyjuice wasn't the only way to disguise yourself. Human transfiguration was possible too, and unlike transfiguring yourself into an animal, it still allowed you to cast spells.

I doubt they'd have tried it if Dumbledore was around. It seemed likely that he could detect something like that. Rowle, though, while powerful wasn't anywhere near Dumbledore's weight class as a wizard.

The foe glass showed your enemy's true face, not necessarily the face they were wearing at the moment.

The next task wasn't until February, which was plenty of time for them to try to kill me again. I'd have to be on the lookout.

Classes resumed and life settled back into a routine.

The Screwts had continued growing; I'd managed to keep them sedated and they were now all six feet in length. I worried about what would happen if I left the castle.

Hagrid likely thought they were a lot more placid than they really were; their nature was to be extremely aggressive, but I'd been using my powers to keep them from killing each other or anyone else.

I'd been feeding them insects at night as well, sending swarms to them when everyone was asleep and I was in my bed.

The ways in which it could all go wrong haunted me. There were still ninety eight Setscrews alive, and that was a lot to go rampaging through the school.

Yet the allure of having my own army, one that I wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice was too much for me to give them up. As a compromise, I had my people create Droughts of Living Death, enough for all of them. In an emergency, if I had to leave, I'd have them all drink.

The droughts were difficult to make, but Harry had found a potions book that he'd contributed to the cause. It had amazing variations that made potion making much more efficient and effective.

The cure was easier to create, and I would administer that whenever I returned.

Harry and I made several more trips downstairs to see the basilisk. It had been napping for much of that time; it had a habit of sleeping for years. It was pleased for the enlarged meat we provided, and it still seemed to be on our side.

My parseltongue still wasn't good; I hadn't been practicing and I found that I'd gotten rather rusty.

Much of the extra food was simply things we slipped away from meals; however, sometimes I would kill a rat and enlarge it's corpse to the size of a human being.

I slipped down to the kitchens occasionally too; first, I wanted to get the House Elves used to seeing me around. Second, getting them on my side would give me an incredible amount of power. My research suggested that they could be very dangerous if well motivated.

Late one night I slipped down to the kitchens to find no one there. I occasionally did this, copying he food and leaving the original so that no one was the wiser.

I saw a lone house elf sitting by a small table. She stank of butterbeer.

"Hello," I said.

I'd known she was here already, of course, but I'd thought I'd learned the names and faces of all of Hogwarts house elves, and she wasn't one of them.

She looked blearily up at me.

"Are you new here?" I asked. "One of Hogwarts' elves?"

She straightened her shoulders.

"Winky is an owned elf," she said. "She has a family. She is not like these elves."

She waved her hand unsteadily.

"Oh?" I asked. "Where is your master?"

"He wants Winky to stay here," she said. She shook her head. "Winky should be by his side, like always. Not...here."

"Why would he want you to stay here?" I asked.

She looked up at me, and her eyes narrowed craftily. "Winky will never betray her master! Mr. Crouch is the best master ever!"

She looked like her face was about to hit the table, but she somehow managed to stay up by sheer willpower.

"Mr. Crouch wouldn't ask Winky to do anything bad, would he?"

"No...no," she said. She looked up at me, and there was a sudden expression of fear in her eyes.

"That's good," I said. "Because when I see a house elf looking very sad, I usually think it's the fault of the master."

"Winky is not sad!" she said, but her voice sounded as though she wanted to cry. "Mr. Crouch is just stressed, and Winky worries about him."

"He's changed?" I said. "Almost like a he's a different person?"

She frowned and she looked confused for a moment.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Taylor," I said.

She looked up at me, and the color slowly drained from her cheeks. She tried to snap several times, but she lacked the coordination.

I went for my wand, but she blasted me, and as I tried to stun her, she was already gone.

I didn't see her again.

It made me feel paranoid, and I found myself checking everything I owned. House elves could go everywhere, and they could place cursed objects anywhere.

It made my life harder, the thought that putting on my knickers in the morning could cause an irreversible rotting disease, like the one on page three twenty of the Malifacorum.

The news of the Yule Ball made my life harder as well. I would have preferred to return to Sirius's house. There were parts of the library there that I hadn't been able to get around the protective enchantments on, and I'd have liked another chance.

However, I had to stay on campus to keep the Skrewts from running wild, and the fact that the Yule Ball was on meant that a large number of students were staying over the holiday.

I wasn't worried about going to the ball, of course; Harry and I were third years, and it was Fourth years and up. However, the ball would be a good time to attack me, Harry or Hermione because the staff would be distracted.

However, one day, Fred Weasley stopped me and Hermione.

"You've heard about the ball, right?" he asked.

He'd pulled us into an unused classroom, away from everyone else. He didn't smell like polyjuice, but I kept my hand on my wand nonetheless.

"Yeah?" I asked suspiciously.

"How would you like to help me pull a prank on George?" he asked.

"What kind of prank?"

"I'm going to tell him that I asked you out on a date pretending to be him," he said. He grinned almost maniacally. "His head will explode."

"Why?"

"He's more scared of you than I am," Fred said. "And nobody would think I'd be stupid enough to use you as part of my prank. They'd think it'd be suicide!"

"And it's not?"

"Not if you agree to it beforehand!" he said. "You can always say no, but if you agree to it, he'll think you expect a real date from him."

"And what do I get out of it?" I asked skeptically. "It's not like I have a ton of free time."

"I'll get you a dress," he said. "And you'll get to go to the ball and keep an eye on everybody."

"I can do that from my room," I said.

"But can you control everything from your room?" he said. "We'd have been toast if you hadn't got us ready for the dragon. What happens if something happens on the dance floor and you aren't there?"

"Why am I even involved in this?" Hermione asked. She scowled. "It has nothing to do with me."

"I'll tell George that I asked you out, and then at the last minute we'll switch partners," he said. "George really admires you, you know, and he'll be jealous that I asked you."

Hermione flushed, even though Fred didn't offer to pay for her dress. He probably thought she was more girlish than me, and in that he was right.

"You aren't trying to actually date me, are you?" I asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't have time for anything like that."

He shook his head.

I still thought of the kids at Hogwarts as kids; I might have been able to date some of the more competent Seventh years, but that would be inappropriate because I was too young.

I was fourteen, and dating anyone close to my age wasn't on the horizon. I wouldn't have had time for romance even if it was possible.

Once Voldemort was dead, I'd reevaluate my options. Until then, I could only have friendships.

"I'll be considered the bravest man in Hogwarts," he said. He grinned. "And the girls will wonder what you saw in me. Once I get a date with you, my romantic future is assured!"

His financial future was already bound up in my organization. We paid them to create some of their more dangerous contraptions for us, and they used that money to fund their research for their joke shop.

I considered for a moment.

The joke didn't appeal to me much, except that George had pulled pranks on a lot of other people and it seemed fitting that he'd get a little of his own back.

Ron would likely enjoy it more than anyone, considering the things they'd put him through.

Considering the things I'd put him through, maybe I owed him one.

"OK," I said.

Both Fred and Hermione stared at me.

"Really?" they both asked.

"I've never been to a school dance," I said. "At least not one that didn't involve skeletons. That last one was kind of fun."

Hermione frowned.

"I did like the Dancing Skeletons," she said. "Who's playing the ball?"

"The Weird Sisters," Fred said. He grinned and Hermione's look. "That's how everybody looks when I tell them. Everybody but her."

"The Weird Sisters?" I asked.

"You know," Hermione said. "They're the ones who sing Do the Hippogriff and Into the night."

"That's the band Harry likes, right?" I asked. I'd heard parts of both songs when I listened in on people listening to the Wizarding Wireless.

The band was actually pretty good.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, he'll regret missing it, then," I said.

Hermione grinned. "We'll just have to tell him how it went."