Ginny sat at her desk, half listening to Professor Lupin drone on and on about the Babbling Curse.

"It's a common tactic of many of the more dangerous magical predators to use it on their prey. Many people, when exposed to a victim of the Babbling Curse, will assume that the victim has just gone insane. The ramblings of someone under the effect of the Babbling Curse are almost always incoherent, and the Curse is designed in such a way that the victim can't simply repeat themselves over and over, if they can even string together coherent sentences at all."

The man looked haggard and worn as he lectured. He was sitting, as he sometimes did when he looked especially downtrodden, which happened at least once a month. Normally, he was a very active and engaged professor, moving around and doing activities or giving examples. But when he was sick, he was very sick. It must have been one of his bad days; Ginny wondered idly, what disease he must've had.

"Would anybody like to volunteer? I'll be placing the Babbling Curse on you, if you're willing, and then ask you a few questions afterwards about the experience."

A boy to Ginny's left raised his hand and went to the front of the class. Lupin raised his wand, and with a lazy, tired flick murmured "Tongloos." The boy, who Ginny should probably have known the name of, but she just couldn't muster up the energy, began to murmur lowly. Indistinct at first, then slowly growing in volume. Garbled noises, just on the edge of real words, spilled forth from his mouth. Every now and again Ginny would swear that a few real words slipped through.

"As you can see, it would be easy to mistake this for someone just experiencing hallucinations. Many Vampires will use this curse on an unsuspecting Wizard or Witch. In addition to the other symptoms presented by someone who is being targeted by a Vampire, it's often mistaken for a different cause than the Curse." With a wave of his wand, the short Slytherin boy ceased his Babbling. "Donald, take a moment to center yourself. That Curse can be very disorienting. When you're ready, let me know, and you can share your thoughts on the Curse with the class. No, raise of hands, who can provide us with another example of symptoms the victim of a Vampire might have? Yes, Ms. Hobbes, Vampire symptoms?"

Ginny rested her head on her hand, and let her eyes dart out the window. The words of her classmates' answers float around her, and she listened only for something she hasn't mentioned herself in the essay they handed in about Vampires at the beginning of class. No one mentioned anything new to her.

She allowed herself to focus instead on what she was going to say to Professor Lupin after class, if she could get him alone. She knew he had started teaching Harry Potter how to defend himself from Dementors, and she desperately wanted to be included in those lessons. Harry wasn't the only one to have fainted on the train, and Ginny was eager to find any way possible to keep herself safe from those creeping cold cloaks and the demons who wore them.

Lupin's voice finally rang through the group discussion around her and let them all know that class was dismissed. Finally.

She dithered near her desk, packing up her belongings slowly while her fellow year mates hurried to have as much time as possible to gossip in the halls before their next class. Once the room was finally clear, she shouldered her bag and headed up to the desk where Lupin was still sitting, eyes closed. He hadn't moved from the chair all lesson.

"Um, pardon me? Professor Lupin?"

His eyes cracked open, slowly, and he heaved a sigh that almost had Ginny apologizing before bolting for her next class. She steeled herself against that thought, protecting herself too important, and was rewarded with a small, restrained smile from her Professor.

"Yes, Miss Weasley? Can I help you? You only just handed in your essay today, you know. You'd have seen me marking it up during class if I'd already graded it."

"No, sir, I'm certain I did at least an Exceeds Expectations on it. I had a request."

The professor just raised his eyebrows, silently urging her to continue. She took a deep breath.

"I know you're giving Harry lessons on how to defend himself from Dementors. I'd like to ask if you could teach me as well."

"It's a very intense and difficult Charm he and I are working on, Miss Weasley. To be honest, I told him that I doubt he'll actually be able to accomplish it. His determination has been nothing short of remarkable, but willpower can only take you so far."

"Yes, but some defense is better than no defense."

"It can be damaging to practice spells before you're ready for them, Miss Weasley. The Hogwarts curriculum is very precisely designed, with good reason. If Harry weren't in such terrible danger from Dementors, I'd have certainly never agreed."

"That's just the thing, Professor, he's not the only one. If you'll recall, I fainted on the train as well."

Lupin paused at that, and his face went lightly pale. "Ah, yes. That is true, Miss Weasley, I remember. But Harry has continued to show symptoms throughout the year. He's been paler than normal and has complained of a lack of sleep. Well, more so than most other students have been affected by the ambient effects of the Dementors on the grounds. You don't seem to be having any of those issues. Harry also made a point about trouble seeming to find him; I don't think trouble will be looking for you, do you Miss Weasley?"

It wasn't any of his arguments that make the decision for Ginny. It was the moment he called Harry by his first name, rather than Mr. Potter as so many other professors do. A tinge of concern and worry, mixed with an almost unwarranted fondness that curdled Ginny's stomach to hear. She wasn't sure if it was because he's the Boy-Who-Lived, or something else, but Ginny knew in that moment the truth.

Harry was getting special treatment, and she wouldn't be allowed to participate.

In a strange sort of way, it made sense. Harry was special. She had benefited from that herself, when he'd come to save her from the Chamber. If he hadn't been special, there'd have been no way he'd have been able to defeat the Basilisk to save her. That didn't make it any less frustrating when she is trying to learn something too, trying to keep herself safe, but it was still the truth.

She said none of that, though. Instead, she just whispered "I understand, Professor." She turned to leave, and let her thoughts wander on something Lupin had said, rather than letting them fester on everything he hadn't.

Were there really that many people really being affected just from being near the Dementors? She hadn't noticed anything strange, but then again, she hadn't been paying too much attention to anyone that wasn't Hermione or Luna. But nobody else had fainted besides her and Harry. Why wouldn't she notice the "ambient whatever" that Lupin claimed Harry was suffering from?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even realize she was headed straight to her Common Room, rather than to the Great Hall for lunch. She was about to turn around when she saw Hermione come bustling down the hallway. Ginny sped up just a bit to fall in to step beside her. She went to ask Hermione a question, when she noticed how tense she was.

"Something the matter, Hermione?"

"Nothing. I just-. Well. I don't like Trolls. They've got them watching out Common Rooms now, and I just-. I really don't like Trolls." She said this with a shudder and Ginny decided not to pry. Instead, she decided to distract her while bringing up a new topic, hopefully one that would answer her nagging doubts.

"Would you say that the castle feels… different this year? Than last year or the year before?"

"Hmm, possibly? It depends on what you mean."

"I guess I'm not really sure. It's just something that Professor Lupin said."

"Oh, about his lessons with Harry? You were going to ask him about joining, weren't you? Oh, I do so wish I had time to join in on those. It sounds like such a useful Charm."

"Doesn't make a lick of difference. He wouldn't let you join anyways. Well, he didn't let me, at any rate. He said Harry is more affected by the Dementors than anyone else, so he needs the extra training."

"You passed out on the train too!"

"That's what I said! He gave me some nonsense about 'Harry being more affected by their ambient blah blah blah.' I stopped listening." Hermione rolled her eyes at her with a small smile.

"Honestly. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were as bad as Ronald."

"Ah, so we're still mad at him, are we? He deserves the Full Name Treatment?"

Her bushy haired friend huffed. "Yes, we are, and yes, he does. I don't care if Percy summoned Scabbers and Ron admitted he was wrong, he should have trusted me."

"Well, Crookshanks isn't the most sociable cat. He's actually rather vicious. Not that it gives him a right to blame Crookshanks with no evidence, but you have to admit he's not totally without reasoning. Just without evidence."

"Crookshanks is only vicious to his rat. Which I don't understand, because Kneazles are supposed to be a good judge of character. Maybe his rat was an evil person in another life and was reincarnated as a rat to pay for his sins."

"You believe in reincarnation?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point is that Harry really isn't all that more affected than anyone else by the ambient 'blah blah blah,' as you so eloquently put it, of the Dementors. That's not to say that he isn't affected, I think we all are, but he isn't any more so than anyone else."

"It's just favoritism and excuses on the Professor's part then." Ginny just shook her head. "Regardless, you would say that Hogwarts does feel different, for certain?"

"Well, yes, I do suppose I would."

"Even with all the Heir of Slytherin nonsense last year?" Ginny pressed her, even as she was hesitant to bring it up. The two of them had never fully discussed what had happened between them, when Ginny had almost killed her the year before. It was a sore spot for Ginny, one of many. Like an open wound that wouldn't close, any pressure caused it to flare and bring her nothing but pain. She'd get around to bandaging it, eventually, but she didn't know how to even approach the topic, let alone begin to make her apologies to Hermione.

Hermione shifted her bag as they walked, readjusting its weight on her shoulder. "Well, last year was tense. Yes, tense really is the best word. There was a tension and an alertness in the air, along with not a small amount of fear. But when we were in class, or in the Common Room, it was mostly fine; it was only alone in the hallways that it became an issue. And I don't blame you for any of that, not a bit. It was Tom Riddle, not you, and you did better than anyone could have asked you to in resisting him. So, get that look off your face."

Ginny nodded at her, forcing her grimace to evaporate as regret and disgust roiled in her stomach. She'd been the cause of that fear, and so much pain, regardless of what Hermione said to the contrary. It may have been Tom Riddle's soul, but it was her body that went around petrifying people, almost killing them. She almost got caught wallowing once again in her own self-pity and almost missed it when Hermione continued.

"But it's different this year, isn't it? It's nothing so noticeable as fear or being high strung. It's just-. Everything is so hard this year. It's hard to gather the energy to do anything, it feels like. Meals seem quieter, and everything seems more subdued. The hallways seem darker, and the stone seems greyer, I suppose. I know it's silly of me to think so, but it's true. Or at least, it feels that way." She blushed a little, as though she expected Ginny to make fun of her.

"Hmm. Thanks, Hermione. I appreciate you telling me."

"You don't think I'm a nutter, then?"

"No, I don't. I get the feeling most everyone would agree with you. Professor Lupin certainly does. I think I'm the one who's the nutter here."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I only just now noticed all the things you were saying about how bleak this year is. But I've been feeling it since before the Dementors showed up in force. I've been feeling it since last year. I don't know if I ever stopped."

Hermione just grimaced and gave her shoulder a squeeze as they finally came into the Great Hall for lunch.

It was the first week of March and Ginny and Luna were exploring the dungeons of the castle after curfew. Luna was convinced that there was a secret doorway that led out into a courtyard somewhere in the dungeons; she'd taken a note from Hermione and had been skimming a few books on the history of Hogwarts. Luna said multiple sources stated it as fact, and one of the sources was even a Slytherin professor.

Ginny didn't quite feel comfortable in the dungeons. It may have been more accurate to say she felt a little too comfortable. Although the Potions classroom was technically in the dungeons, it was on the outskirts, right at the edge. The two of them were venturing into the heart of the dungeons looking for this courtyard.

She let her mind wander as she and her best friend explored

Meditating, once she had learned how to do it right, helped her sort through her thoughts, accept them as they came to her. She wouldn't say she was any kind of good at meditating yet, and she struggled every time she did it. But she plugged away at it, doing it three times a day without fail. Practice was supposed to make perfect.

She'd been growing discouraged when she hadn't seemed to get any better and it hadn't seemed to be getting easier, until one day something strange had happened. She'd come out of her focused breathing one evening, and as her mind wandered and burbled and flickered, she thought back on the year before. In her relaxed, smooth state, she didn't flinch away from the memory as she might have normally, but instead allowed herself to relive it.

Soft leather clutched tightly in her fingers, the only sound is the soft echo of her step, step, step. Barefoot, her feet make light padding sounds rather than the harsh click of her heels. Torches line the walls, shadows flickering across the floors like dancing figurines, she bobs and weaves throughout them. Her head feels full and heavy, the world seems to sway as she walks, the only thing around her that feels real is her diary.

She turns a corner, and nearly steps on a small creature. A cat. It raises its hackles and screeches at her, and she bends over towards it. She lets out a vicious hiss, and it freezes for just a moment before turning to scamper away. A voice speaks something off in the distance, and she frowns as she struggles to hear the words. Footsteps, not her own, join her in the hall, the heavy tread of boots and leather shouting their arrival on the stone floor.

Betrayed by her own prey. The cat had alerted someone to her presence. It would be the first to go. Her first test subject. She scampers back to her Common Room, a grin stretching her face. A successful first night. Things were well on track.

She came out of her memories shaken but able to manage her fear. It wasn't terrifyingly bloody or horrifyingly gruesome, so it could have been worse. It was frightening to remember doing something and feel Tom controlling her body, but it was heartening to know that even while possessed, she had still been there, just buried so deep she was only barely aware.

That first time opened the floodgates for her. She was slowly uncovering many of the blacked-out areas of her memory, most of them worse than her first. Sadly, this meant both Hermione and Luna were progressing in their Occlumency training faster than she was, but she didn't mind. Feeling like her mind was her own was something she was willing to work long and hard towards. Protecting her mind was even more important.

She was learning, slowly, that there wasn't any of Tom left in her. The traces he left behind, the marks he left on her, they weren't remnants of him, not like there'd been pieces of him stored away inside her while she wrote in the diary every day. There was only the occasional memory to find, instincts that she hadn't taught herself. Everything else was merely all the ways he'd altered her, changed her, caused her to become a new version of Ginny. That difference was where her dissonance came from, and she was slow in accepting it, even slower in sorting through it.

Down there, in the heart of the dungeons, it was harder to define who she was, to make the clearer distinction between the "Ginny-Who-Was" and the "Ginny-Who-Is." Much as she tried to be like the "Ginny-Who-Was" up in the castle, in her everyday life, she couldn't completely smother the part of her that sounded suspiciously like Tom. Most days, she could hide it well enough, but in these dungeons, that felt so familiar and like home, with cool air and the flicker of torchlight on grey stone, it was harder to pretend.

It was harder to even want to pretend.

In one of those instances of random instinct, one that was certainly not her own, she put out her hand. She trailed her hand along the stone walls, feeling their grit and texture with the pads of her fingers. The dangerous truth was she felt content in the dungeons, as though returning to a long-lost friend. Or maybe it was more like returning home.

As her fingers slipped over an odd bump in the wall, she felt a flash of memory overcome her. To have a memory come upon her randomly, not while meditating but through a different trigger, happened more than she'd like. It had begun shortly after she'd started meditating and sorting through her blacked-out memories, but it was still relatively rare. It was almost expected to happen down in the dungeons, though, where there was more that was familiar that might spark a memory.

Fingers brushing against the bump on the wall, the dungeons of Hogwarts hold no secrets from Ginny. She looks back at the girl she is bringing with her. She really has no interest in this, but her year mates will mock her endlessly unless she does something about it. She has to at least attempt to 'snog' this girl, or she'll never live it down. The least Ginny can provide herself with is a modicum of privacy while she debases herself.

The brunette girl standing behind Ginny is blushing as Ginny presses down on the secret latch that will open the hidden doorway into the forgotten courtyard. As the stones melt into themselves, and the simpering fool looks out into the small slice of Eden, Ginny grimaces in disgust. The girl simpers and Ginny's insides revolt at the prospect of time wasted in lewd osculation.

She'd rather not touch the girl, barely an excuse for a Witch, but Ginny's standing in the House will fall if she doesn't prove that she can. Witches, and Muggle girls too, have always fallen at her feet before; she just wished she'd never had to follow up on their obvious, absurd, and repulsive adoration.

Ginny shook her head to clear the memories left behind by Tom. While she was still progressing slowly, it was going faster now that they'd figured out what their Occlumency book was hinting at. As it turned out, the instructions in the book they'd found, which seemed to be written in code, that had said "clear your mind" didn't actually mean "empty your mind," but rather "have a clarity of mind about you." Before a memory may have shaken her for up to 10 minutes at a time. Now her transition was nearly seamless.

The stones of the wall crumbled before her, just as they did in her stolen memory, and she turned to see the sight of the concealed courtyard.

Grass lined the floor of it, from end to end. Stone walls reached high into the air, until they faded into the night sky. The sky twinkled merrily above them, stars out and shining bright like giggling children. In the distance, Ginny could hear the sound of running water, and she could just make out what looked to be a small stream on the far side of the courtyard. It seemed to only pass through for a moment, and there was a small steppe of rocks next to it. Scattered throughout the rest of the space were short leafy shrubs, sprouting bright green leaves and subdued reddish berries sitting in clumps around the branches.

"Alder Buckthorn." Luna whispered to her. "Can be used to make a green, yellow, and blue dye. Surprisingly, given the colors of the berries, not a red die."

Ginny was about to respond when she heard a rustling from within two bushes. She crept closer and saw nestled within the two plants was a very small bench. Even more peculiar was the similarly tiny girl laid upon that bench, tossing and turning in what looked to be a very uncomfortable sleep.

"Oh look, it's our friend Roni!" Luna exclaimed. This, naturally, woke the girl up. It was indeed the small Slytherin first year, Veronica.

"Since when did we rename her Roni?"

"Who said you could call me that?!"

Both girls spoke at the same time, and asked nearly the same question, but the younger girl's question was much sharper, harsher in her rebuke than Ginny's honest curiosity. The two older girls turned to stare at her, in all her fury, as she clenched her hands tighter and grit her teeth so hard Ginny could hear the grinding. She was sitting straight on the bench, with posture sharp enough to cut yourself on.

Slowly, the girl seemed to realize they were staring at her, and her anger seemed to morph to shame. Or at the very least, embarrassment - her face turned a nice dusty blush and she mumbled out a muffled "Sorry. Didn't mean to shout" as she flinched away from them.

"Well, our night just got much more odd. And, if I say so myself, much more interesting as well!"

"I'd say interrupted." Ginny mumbled under her breath, too quietly for either of the other girls to hear. Louder, she spoke again "So, Veronica. What brings you to this little corner of the castle? You weren't crying again, were you?"

Ginny was observant enough to notice that the young girl didn't seem to be short of breath, there were no tear tracks marring her cheeks, nor were her cheeks flushed. Ginny was about as sure as she could be that the little snake hadn't been crying - otherwise she'd never have asked. Slytherins were snakes, sure, but it was cruel to kick anyone while they were down.

"Ah, no, I-. Well. I just come here sometimes. To be, you know, by myself. Alone. It's… peaceful in here."

"I would imagine it is. This looks like an image of the sky from somewhere in Spain! I've heard Spain is a very peaceful place. Could you imagine, a Siesta every day? How nice it must be to always be so well rested. What a wonderful country." Luna sighed.

"You know some of the most random and obscure facts, Luna."

"It's common knowledge that Spain has Siesta's. They're well known for it."

"I won't even ask how you know that this is the Spanish night sky, then?"

"What's a Siesta?" Veronica chimed in.

"It's a wonderful, beautiful concept" Luna began, ignoring Ginny's question. "In Spain, and many other countries, when the Sun rises too high and the day gets too hot, everyone just collectively agrees that it's not worth the hassle, so they all pack up and nip away for a nap. In the middle of the day! I've heard that the Siesta is the reason Spain is known to have the largest population of Snoozing Heffalumps. They weren't originally from Spain, of course, but when they were imported for the first time in 1482, there were reports of additional foreign Heffalumps flocking to Spain by the dozen! Think of it, being able to see all the immigrating Snoozing Heffalumps. How I'd have loved that."

Luna continued to lecture on Heffalumps as the three girls explored the courtyard. It was nearly a meadow, but not quite. It was almost a forest, but not truly. It was similar to so many places, but hard to pin down. The three students had naturally begun to wander as Luna explained Siestas, Heffalumps, and wherever her tangent took her, with no one person deciding where or what they would explore. It just happened spontaneously, as though they had all three decided, at the same time, to wander about independently of each other, but had all chosen the exact same direction.

"Is she always like this?" Veronica whispered to Ginny under her breath. "It seems exhausting."

Ginny nearly snapped back, vitriol dripping from her tongue like venom from her fangs to defend her friend, when she paused to look at the young first year's face before shooting her mouth off. The girl's words were accusatory, but her eyes were wide as she stared at Luna and her tone was nothing short of a quiet reverence.

Ginny remembered herself, not so long ago, being pulled into a field by a golden-haired girl who chatted about everything and nothing, and the way it did feel exhausting. But there was a quality to Luna that made you want to be exhausted by her, want to follow her, and Ginny saw that desire in the little firstie. It was a craving Ginny knew well, the desire to be exhausted; she spent most of her summer doing backbreaking labor just so she could manage a few uninterrupted hours of sleep. Luna had been a godsend at the time.

"Yeah. Nearly always, I'd say. She'd talk my ear off if I let her, then carry it around with her so she'd always have someone to listen to her. Smartest girl I know, she is."

The little firstie's eyebrows climbed high on her face, like a hiker perched atop a conquered mountain. "Don't you hang out with that M-... Muggleborn girl Granger? Harry Potter's friend? I heard she's top of her class. To hear the teachers tell it, she's the next coming of Morgana."

Ginny clenched her teeth at the near-mention of the blood-purity slur but gave the little firstie credit for censoring herself. At least she wasn't totally ignorant and wasn't looking to stir up trouble.

"She's incredibly talented, and you're right. Probably the next coming of Morgana if she's even half as smart as I think she is. But Luna, well. Luna has this unique, difficult to follow way of looking of the world she lives in, and it's a world I desperately wish I could live in with her. Watching her light up the room around her like vibrant spellfire as she gets deep into a conversation, it's draining and invigorating all at once. She'll twist the world around her until she's seen it from a way no one has looked at it before, and I don't know anyone else who can do it like she can. So, uh, yeah. Smartest person I know, if that makes any sense."

"What're you whispering about over here? Whispers make secrets make rumours, you know. And rumours attract Nargles. Ginny, do you want a Nargle infestation?"

"No, Luna." Ginny smiled "You know I don't. I was just telling Veronica here-"

"Roni!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Veronica, here" Ginny continued "how incredibly smart, and talented, and wise, and powerful you are."

"Oh! Well, that's alright then. It's all true, you know." She nodded slowly to Veronica as she took on a sagely tone of voice. "I'm quite fantastic."

Veronica stared at the two of them, eyes steadily roving from the blonde, the redhead, then the blonde again, before muttering "You're mad, both of you. Must be the only explanation."

"No, not mad. Although some people think I'm Loony, you know. Are you sure you didn't mean Loony?"

Veronica's eyes went wide. "Loony Lovegood? That's you? But you're nothing like what the other girls said!" She clasped both her hands over her mouth quickly and let out a high squeak as she realized what she said.

"See? I told you." Luna turned to Ginny and tapped her nose twice. "Whispers to secrets to rumours to Nargles. Now they're everywhere!"

"And what would you like me to do about it, hmm?"

"Has anyone ever tried killing a Nargle? They're small - if you could only catch them, you might be able to pop their heads right off."

"No, Luna, I don't care how bothersome they are, wonton murder of relatively or potentially innocent magical creatures is both immoral and illegal."

"It's not actually illegal. The Ministry doesn't recognize them as a magical creature, which means there's no laws against killing them."

"It's still immoral!"

"Yes, well." She lifted her nose up tartly. "One man's trash is another man's treasure."

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"Yes it does! It means-."

"I know what it means, I meant it's not relevant!"

"You're both barmy. Really and truly!" Veronica muttered, not quite under her breath. "Harder to follow than a Wimbledon match, you are. Back and forth, it'll drive me spare."

"The point is, Ginevra, that we shouldn't be afraid of the names they call us. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself, and I've no intention of being afraid of myself. There's enough out there to actually be afraid of."

"But it isn't actually your name." Ginny pointed out, rather reasonably in her opinion, if anyone had bothered to ask her.

"Oh pish. It is to them; Roni knows me by that name, that means it's basically my name. Isn't that right Roni?"

"I, uh, didn't actually know it was you?"

"Who's side are you on?!"

"Uh."

"She's on no one's side. Leave the firstie alone, Luna, you'll send her into shock. Back on point, you think we shouldn't be afraid of those names? Fine, I'm not scared of it. But I don't want anyone calling me Jitters!"

"That's just a different kind of fear. We need to own the name, make it our own so that they can't use it to hurt us anymore. We shouldn't let people define us or our image."

"Uhm, my Mum always says that how people perceive you is how you'll end up being, so you need to make them perceive you how you want to be." Roni put forward, with a tremble in her voice. "Of course, she usually follows that up with lessons on posture and grammar, which I hate, but I think the point still stands?"

"See, I knew she was on my side!" Luna looked at her and pursed her lips. "What does your dad say?"

The girl tucked her head to the ground, staring at her feet resolutely, and let out a mumble that may or may not have been either "He's usually busy" or "He's brutally skinny."

Luna made big fat doe eyes at Ginny and waved her arms as if to say "You SEE! I WAS RIGHT!" Ginny promptly ignored her for all of 10 seconds, before crumbling in to the peer pressure and letting out a reluctant sigh.

"How long have you been coming here, Roni? And how'd you find it, anyways?"

"Uh, since the end of September? I just kind of, you know, found it? It was after, or uh, near curfew, and I got lost? I sat down, and was kind of beating my head against the wall, and I just, you know, fell through it?"

Ginny didn't believe for a second that Roni was telling the whole story but wasn't about to push her on it.

"Also, please don't call me Roni. My name is Veronica."

"So, Roni, what's fun to do in the rest of the dungeons other than this wonderful courtyard?"

"My name is-."

"Because I could really go for a good adventure right now. A solid exploration of waters uncharted, lands unknown, skies untraveled - that's exactly what I need right now. Right?"

"Right?"

"Right! So, lead on, fearless leader!"

The small girl looked between the two older girls, confused and scared. When Ginny gave her a small nod and a grin, however, the girl miraculously grinned back a bit sheepishly, and said "Well, I might know one place? If you haven't, ah, been there before?"

"What would be the fun in telling you? We'll find out when we get there! And if it isn't new, you'll take us to another place! Onwards!"

The girls trekked out of the magicked courtyard and back into the dungeon, following Roni's whispered directions. The space between torches lengthened and increased until they trod along with only their wands to light their way. They walked, and climbed, and explored the secrets that the dungeons had to offer while the moon rose and sank without their knowledge. All night they spent together, until they were forced to head back to their Common Rooms to get at least a few hours of sleep before classes. The highlight of their hours long adventure was a single moment at the apex of their journey, the hidden spot that Roni had first mentioned.

They stood before a large stone wall, the dead end of a long winding corridor. Roni reached out and tapped a few bricks in a particular manner with her wand, reminding Ginny of the Leaky Cauldron's entrance to Diagon Alley. Instead of crumbling away to reveal an alley, however, the dark grey bricks of the dungeon wall and ceiling faded away, to reveal an almost pitch black something. Luna reached out first, eyes wide, and gently probed the darkness.

"Oh!" she let out as she withdrew her hand.

She then promptly stuck her finger in Ginny's ear.

"Watch it!" Ginny swatted back at Luna, rubbing at her ear with her free hand - Luna's hand had been wet! And freezing!

Roni smiled at them, shyly, and tapped another brick, back a ways on part of the wall that handed vanished. A random pattern of lights lit up the dark something surrounding them, and suddenly they could see. Above them, in front of them, below them was a view into a fantastical, magical world made of small schools of fish and different types of seaweed swaying gently.

"The lake." Luna breathed out "It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Do the merpeople ever come here? Have you ever seen them? They're supposed to sing the most beautiful songs, you know."

"I've never seen any, no. But they might not know about this. I always imagined we looked like a large rock at the bottom of the lake to them."

"Hmmm. We should ask them if we ever meet any."

"Yeah. Yeah we definitely should."