It had been a long week. Fred had managed to get George back for the Babbling Beverage by switching his report on Self-Fertilizing Shrubs with a paper on the magical properties of Dumbledore's beard, but when Fred put on his deodorant the next day, mushrooms started growing out of his armpits. Even after the mushrooms were gone, his armpits were itchy the rest of the day, and Wood yelled at him for repeatedly scratching himself with his bat during Quidditch practice.

"Had enough?" George asked him as they made their way back to the castle.

"My deodorant, George?" Fred hissed. "Today's been a nightmare. Fungiface is a classic, but my deodorant? Is nothing sacred?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"So was that your brilliant idea, or…?"

"If you want to ask about Rook, just ask."

"All right," said Fred, abandoning pretense. "Is she still upset with me?"

George looked sideways at Fred. "She has a lot on her mind, but… it's obvious she misses you. I'm sure if you just apologize, she'll be happy. I'd be happy too, by the way."

Fred considered this. He was tired of being on bad terms with Rook, but he had been such a jerk to her, he felt as though a simple apology would be insubstantial. But… the longer he waited, the more of a jerk he was.

Once in the common room, Fred waited for Rook. When she finally clamored through the portrait hole, she appeared exceedingly drained and Fred couldn't help wondering what he'd missed out on while they weren't speaking. He got out of his chair and walked over to her.

"Rook."

She looked at him, surprised. "Fred?"

"You're, er… you're free tomorrow night, aren't you? I mean, you don't have a tutoring session?"

Rook looked glum. "Actually, I have a detention," she replied. "It's a long story."

"Oh. Er… Are you going to the Slytherin vs Ravenclaw match on Saturday?"

"No… I have a mountain of homework to do and I need Saturday to get caught up. But… I really hope it works out well for your chances." She smiled weakly, but her eyes were melancholy.

"I'm sure it will," Fred spoke blandly.

"Well… I think I'm going to go to bed now. I'm exhausted." She walked past him and Fred resisted the urge to say more. He didn't intend to just say sorry, no matter what George advised.

Friday came and went quickly, and Saturday dawned with much excitement for the upcoming match. Fred excused himself from heading down with the others with an improvised coughing fit and complaints of nausea. Angelina, Alicia and Lee, though unconvinced, only looked at him suspiciously before leaving for the Quidditch pitch without him. He thought briefly that it would be convenient if he could get sick on command for times like these...

Fred made his way back up to the common room to find only Rook and Hermione, both immersed in schoolwork on opposite sides of the room. Rook did not look up as Fred sank into a squashy sofa several feet away from her. He picked up a magazine another student had left on an end table and pretended to browse while keeping an eye on Rook.

The minutes passed and Rook began flipping through her copy of A History of Magic. Fred watched her face as she discovered several pages missing from her book. At last, she looked up from her work and spotted Fred, who hurriedly lifted the magazine up to his face. Rook stood and walked over to him, book in hand.

"Fred."

"Oh, hey Rook," he said as though he had only just noticed her. "Fancy seeing you here of all places!"

"You vandalized my textbook," she said shortly. "I need to finish a paper."

Fred cast a glance at the tattered pages of her book. "Oh, no, that's clearly the work of Gordian," he said.

"Gordian?"

"An elf who likes to hide things," said Fred. "The only way you're getting those pages back is by solving the riddle."

"Fred, you're supposed to be pranking George, not me. I know the rules of your game."

"I told you, it wasn't me! But, if you're nice, I can help you find your missing pages."

"Or you could lend me your copy of A History of Magic."

"I could…" said Fred, pretending to mull it over. "But I won't."

Fred could tell that Rook was trying not to smile. "Okay… Can you help me, Fred?"

"Magic word…?"

"How about Vermiculus?" Rook spoke threateningly before reaching for her wand.

"Hey, no need for that!" Fred jumped up. "First of all… Gordian likes to use secret messages."

"Ah…" Rook took her wand and tapped it against the inside of her book where the pages were missing. "Aparecium." Where there had been nothing, a short messaged revealed itself across a section on the Statute of Secrecy that read:

feed me, I will survive

give me drink and I will die

"It is a riddle…" said Rook, reading it to herself. "Hmm… Is there someone with hydrophobia around here?"

"Er…"

Rook was eyeing the fire. "I'll go with my second guess, then." She crossed over to the fireplace and Fred followed. Rook examined the area and she knelt beside the marble hearth, easily locating a tiny scroll of parchment tucked away at the base of the plinth. "It's another one," she said as she unfurled it:

the only place in the world where success comes before trying

"Ooh, how profound," said Fred, looking over her shoulder. "Doesn't really apply to me, though. I'm often successful without trying."

Rook turned and grabbed him.

"Oi, what are you doing?!" he exclaimed, tugging his arm away from her.

"You just said—!"

"It's not me!"

"Are you sure about that?" Rook spoke ominously. "Better do a once-over with a probity-probe just to be certain—!" Rook lunged at him and he dodged, leading her on a chase throughout the mostly-empty common room.

"Would you two please be quiet?!" Hermione spoke shrilly after Fred had stumbled over an ottoman, accidentally tearing down some red curtains as he tried to catch himself. "There are plenty of other places in the castle where you can be noisy and destructive!"

"He started it!" said Rook.

"You telltale!"

Hermione sighed, returning to her schoolwork irritably.

"Oh!" Rook exclaimed, rushing over to the bookshelf and picking up a large volume that had seen better days. "A dictionary!"

"Never seen anyone so excited to see a dictionary," Fred chuckled, repairing the broken curtain rod. "Now I know what I'm getting you for your birthday."

"Holy Bela Lugosi, Fred!" said Rook, looking at a bit of parchment that had fallen from the dictionary. "A cipher?! Seriously? I'm never going to finish this paper, am I?"

"I keep telling you, I'm innocent!" Fred protested. "Wow, that's a lot of numbers…"

Rook retrieved another piece of paper and began decoding the book cipher. She figured it out more quickly than she'd anticipated. At last, she had the final clue:

without fingers, I point

without arms, I strike

without feet, I run

Rook murmured the riddle to herself, looking around the room for inspiration. Fred watched her with great interest. "It points, strikes and runs… Wait… Maybe…?" She stood, looking all around the room, then back at Fred. "Is it in here?" Fred only smiled and shrugged in reply. "If it's not here, then…"

Rook got up and left the common room, Fred following close behind her. They ended up in the Clock Tower Courtyard, where Rook spotted a note beside a plate of finger sandwiches on the same stone bench they had sat on before.

"Are these…?" she asked, approaching the bench.

"Peanut butter and jelly," Fred confirmed, his heart rate picking up as she picked up the note. He watched her face as she read it, anxiously awaiting her reaction. She looked like she might cry.

"Fred…"

"I am, you know. I was petty and stubborn, and you… you were ready forgive me without me even saying it, but I am saying it; I'm sorry. And, for the record, I was completely bored without you."

Rook threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Fred wrapped his arms around her tentatively. "My life sucks without you, Fred," she mumbled against his chest. She came away and looked up at him with sad eyes. "There were so many things I've been wanting to tell you, but you were…"

"I was busy being an idiot," Fred finished for her. "Here, why don't we sit…"

As they sat together in the courtyard, Rook told Fred about how she had made a potion to recover her magically repressed memories. She told him about the Death Eater, Casta, and the likeliness of her mother's death. Finally, she told him about Casta's history at Hogwarts.

"George told me you had a lot on your mind," said Fred sympathetically. "I guess I assumed it was more about Spencer and schoolwork and such."

Rook laughed weakly. "I wish. I feel like every time I fall asleep I see that man's face… I hate it."

"What do you know about the two women he assaulted?"

"Just their names: Bellany Fakhri and Erimentha Eades."

"Eades…" Fred repeated, feeling something stir in the recesses of his brain. "Erimentha Eades…"

"What is it?"

"I don't know, but I feel as though I've seen that name somewhere…" Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Oh! The Lovegood girl!"

"Huh? You don't mean Luna…?"

"Yes, her! She had this collection, and that Eades woman, Luna had her!"

Rook was staring at him with wide, confused eyes. "What?"

"Missing! She went missing a long time ago, and the muggles put up a notice about it in our neighborhood!"

"You're joking!"

"Trust me, Rook, if I was joking, you'd know it."

"Right—"

"Because of the laughter."

Rook laughed. "Right. Silly me. So you think Luna still has the notice?"

"I doubt she'd throw it away."

"So we just have to wait 'til we see her. Oh, by the way Fred, where are those pages?"

"Oh, right… They're under the sofa cushion where you usually sit. And you can just copy my old essay for Binns. He never notices stuff like that."

Fred and Rook made their way back to the common room together, the former feeling pleased and relieved. Nothing had changed between Rook and Spencer, but the last few days without her had made Fred realize that he liked Rook a lot more than he disliked Spencer.

They didn't see Luna until dinner time, and she seemed entirely too happy to show Rook her strange collection.

"But it's in my dormitory at the moment. I can bring it down after dinner."

Fred noticed Rook's eyes flicker toward Spencer, who was sitting several seats away from Luna at the Ravenclaw table, and Fred had the distinct impression that Rook had not informed him of her investigative efforts. He wondered if Spencer even knew she was adopted.

"Um… Maybe you can bring them to History of Magic tomorrow?"

"Sure!"

Fred and George rushed to the History of Magic classroom following Charms the next day. Rook stepped out into the corridor with a dazed expression, the missing person notice still in her hand.

"It's her," she said weakly when she saw them. "It's my mother."