As the calendar turned towards to December, the weather had improved, which was to say it had gotten drier. It certainly had not gotten any warmer. Other aspects of Frisk's life hadn't changed so much. Sir Cadogan's passwords were still changing, still incomprehensible, and Frisk managed to forget them herself. Twice. Thankfully, there were other members of Gryffindor able to cover for her mental mistakes, just as she was there to help others.
Professor Snape still loathed her. He hadn't given her another zero, but he was on the lookout to point out and criticize her every error. He'd also taken to criticizing her deskmate, which caused a certain amount of consternation among the other students. It was a testament to the solidarity of Gryffindor that she had a partner in potions at all, but she never did have the same partner twice. She was able to visit the hospital wing most weeks, seemingly to Madam Pomfrey's surprise each time.
The colder weather didn't quite ground the extra flying practices Frisk was putting in, but it shortened them even more than the quidditch teams already had. It was one such Saturday, that Frisk, Opal, Luna and Ginny had finished warming up with a hot lunch in the Great Hall. After lunch, they worked through a few hands of exploding snap.
After about an hour, Frisk stood up, explaining that she had a project she wanted to do. "Oh?" Luna asked her. "What kind of project?
"I've been thinking," Frisk explained, "that Mr. Filch and Ms. Norris seem so unhappy. I'd like to do something for them."
"That's a waste of time, Frisk," Ginny said. "They might care for each other, but they hate the students. There's no reasoning with him, and if he really thinks that you've done something wrong, he threatens to torture you."
"One of the great mysteries of Hogwarts," Luna said, "is why he stays on in a place he hates so much, and why Dumbledore keeps on someone who hates students so much. The Ravenclaw opinion is that they are in a battle of wills as to who gives up first. Some people take bets."
"But that's awful," Frisk said, looking down towards the deck of cards. "Does anyone ever do anything nice for them?" she asked. The quiet that followed was its own answer. "Someone has to try. Does anyone want to come with me?"
Ginny declined, again calling the expedition a waste of time. She just didn't have the patience for it. Luna also demurred, saying she had homework to catch up on. "I'll come with you," Opal told Frisk. "I think it's worth a go, at least. Did you have something you were planning to do, specifically?"
"Mom had bought cat treats for me when we went to Hogsmeade. I'd forgotten about them when we were turned out of our dorms that night, and Snape's essay didn't help. I found them with the end of the Halloween candy," Frisk explained. "So let's find Ms. Norris."
Opal and Frisk combed through the castle, but though they had seen several of her fellow students, and a few of the teachers, she simply could not find her quarry. She stopped by the Fat Lady, still crammed into her teahouse booth, but while it was good to visit, she couldn't help. The normal guardian of the Gryffindor portrait hole was very specifically not paying attention to the outside world.
Finally, they happened across one of the Hogwarts ghosts on the fourth floor. This particular ghost was a heavyset man in a monk's outfit. "Excuse me, sir," Frisk said. But the ghost continued to mosey down the corridor. "Pardon me, Fat Friar?" Opal called.
The ghost paused in its floating, and turned to face the girls. "Oh! Hello!" he said, bowing to her. "How do you do?" His jovial face beamed at them
"I'm, uh, okay," Frisk said, "But I was hoping you might help me?" The Friar smiled even more broadly and motioned for her to continue. "I'm looking for the caretaker's cat."
"Ms. Norris?" The Friar managed to frown without his face losing any of its pleasant expression. "Why are you looking for her?"
In answer, Frisk reached into her robe pocket, pulling out the bag of cat treats. "We're trying to prove not all students are as bad as he thinks we are." Opal nodded in agreement.
The ghost looked at the two for what felt like several minutes, causing Frisk to wonder if he'd gotten caught in a memory of his mortal life. Finally, he looked up, above the girls' heads and said. "I saw Ms. Norris on the fifth floor not too long ago. Follow me." So saying, he floated in the air, and up through the ceiling. Apparently, unlike Napstablook, he had forgotten humans could not fly. The girls had to race to the main stairwell, up a staircase, and back the way they'd come to catch up to him.
Frisk was completely winded at the end of the chase. Opal had better endurance, but not by much. "Friar," she said, panting.
"Shh," Frisk said, still out of breath. "There she is." And Ms. Norris was there, staring through the ghost at the two girls, his eyes suspicious and unblinking. "Excuse us, Friar?"
"Hm? Oh! Sorry," said Fat Friar. He bowed to them and floated off to the side, watching them with great interest.
Frisk took the lead, she sat down, crossed legged, about eight feet in front of Ms. Norris. She opened the treat bag, and shook a few of the small brown pieces into her hand. She kept her voice soft, "I know there are a lot of students here who don't like you, Ms. Norris. But we're not all like that. I've brought you a peace offering."
"It's alright, Ms. Norris," Opal said, "Frisk is right, we don't all hate you."
Ms. Norris continued to stare at them, sitting down, her tail flicking back and forth, giving no hint about coming to take the offered gift.
Frisk slid the treats across the wooden floor, crossing about half the distance. "It's okay," she continued her stream of soft, steady, words of encouragement, holding her hand out in hopeful offering. But the cat still was aloof. This continued for several minutes, and Opal was just as patient as Frisk was. If Ms. Norris thought she could outlast the two girls, she had another think coming.
After another ten minutes, when Frisk was just thinking of needing to stretch, she was interrupted by a shout of, "Hey! What are you doing to my Ms. Norris!" and Frisk looked up into the red, upset face of the caretaker, Mr. Filch.
"I'm trying to introduce myself to your friend," Frisk said, maintaining the same quiet voice.
"Are you trying to poison her?" Mr Filch asked, his face twisting into a scowl. "I'll see you hung up by your thumbs if she even looks like she's coming down with something."
"We're not out to get you, Mr. Filch," Frisk said, blinking up at him. She reached into her robe's other pocket, pulling out a small bag holding one of Mom's cinnamon butterscotch cookies. "Here, this is for you."
"Oh, you think you can bribe me, then?" Mr. Filch snorted, making no attempt to take the offered gift. "So the next time I catch you or your friends trouble making..."
"No," Frisk said, shaking her head, "I'm just trying to say that not all students hate you like you seem to think we do."
Mr. Filch's expression was cold, "You're a liar. Get back to your common rooms, and leave Ms. Norris alone. Come along, my sweet." Mr. Filch walked back down the corridor, Ms. Norris trailing after him, with Frisk and Opal staring at their backs. The untouched cat treats still sat on the floor, and the now lonely looking cookie was still in Frisk's hand.
"That was... that was..." Opal tried to begin, though she couldn't come up with any words for what it actually was.
"Not entirely unexpected," put in the Fat Friar, as Frisk slowly put her baked good away. He hovered closer, and looked at Frisk curiously, "How are you not in my house?"
"The sorting hat stalled, he thought about putting me in Hufflepuff for a long time. But I've had some bad experience with flowers," Frisk said, still staring after the now gone caretaker.
"Oh well, I hope you two have a better afternoon. It has been good meeting you, Frisk," said the Fat Friar, and he disappeared through the floor, back to whatever haunting he was doing before. Frisk and Opal were left alone.
"What happened to him? What could have happened to a person to make him assume that everyone hates him?" Frisk asked. She still stared down the corridor Mr. Filch had gone down. "What could have damaged his soul like that?"
"What?" Opal asked. "Damaged his soul? What do you mean?"
"Your soul is the culmination of all that you are. It's what drives you, and allows you to make connections with other people... humans, monsters, anyone. But, Mr. Filch? He clearly couldn't connect with us. I wonder if his soul would look as empty as..." Frisk cut herself off. "Never mind."
"How his soul would look?" Opal demanded, "What does that even mean?"
"It's... a trick I learned from the monsters of the underground," Frisk said, and as Opal watched, fascinated, she focused on her soul. As always, it came to the surface, red and determined. Opal gasped in astonishment, staring at the bright red light of Frisk's soul. "Look down," Frisk said.
Opal let out a second gasp. Frisk could see her friend's soul, it shone with a bright sky-blue light, and she could see it too. Frisk let her concentration lapse. "I don't think Mr. Filch's soul shines like that, and I would like to help him change that."
"You're one of a kind, Fisk," Opal told her.
"I don't think I am, at least, I hope not. If I come up with another idea, would you come with me again?" Frisk asked.
"Of course. I will." They stood, smiling in the hallway. "But I guess we ought to go back to our common rooms. See you tomorrow, alright?"
"Sure, that's okay, I'll see you then," Frisk said. They nodded to each other, and went their separate ways. When Frisk got back to the Gryffindor common room, she found Neville outside again, desperately trying to remember the password. "Uh, Bambosh?" Frisk said, suddenly unsure herself. But she was rewarded with Sir Cadogan looking somewhat crestfallen about not being able to duel Neville, and opened their way up to the common room.
"Thanks," Neville said, sounding deeply discouraged, as they emerged into the crowded common room. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You'll get better," Frisk said, smiling at him. "I'm sure you can. But, uh, Neville?" she said, a thought occurring to her. "Do you happen to know what class Hermione has on Thursday afternoons?"
"Sure. History of Magic, then Muggle Studies," Neville told her. "I'm in the same ones. Anyway. Thanks for helping me with the password."
"It's okay, Neville, you're welcome."
Frisk was about to practice her latest transfiguration work when Harry Potter walked up to her. "Hey, Frisk."
Frisk nodded to him, "Hey, Harry."
"I... happened to overhear you asking what classes Hermione had on Thursdays. We're in the same ones, History of Magic after lunch, then Divination."
Frisk stared at him. "But Neville said she had Muggle Studies."
"Must be thinking of another day. You probably know what his memory is like," he said a bit guiltily.
Frisk didn't buy that. Not after what she had been seeing for the past few months. The mystery had deepened. How was Hermione managing to go to two classes at the same time?
It was the last weekend before the end of the Fall term. Most of the upperclassmen had gone into Hogsmeade for the day. Frisk left the unusually quiet common room, and headed down to the great hall, to meet her also castle-bound friends.
"Oh, Frisk, you're here?" Opal said, as she sat down next to them.
"I am," Frisk replied. "There really wasn't a reason for Mom to make the trek all the way northward when I'm taking the train tomorrow. That's okay with me. It's colder than Snowden out there."
"I guess that means no flying practice, either." Ginny said, grinning at her.
Frisk was a lot more stable on the broom now, but she still hated going too high up. Every time she did, her stomach started spinning, and she'd clutch the broom for dear life. She was the bottom of the class, and she knew it. "I really should," she said, staring towards the main door. "But..."
"But Happy Christmas to you," Ginny said, still grinning. "Term's technically over. So we'll pick back up when we get back."
"Yeah," Frisk said, finally smiling herself. "Merry Christmas to me. Let's stay in."
Opal had started dealing out her cards. "I've been meaning to ask you, Frisk. Are you American? You keep using American terms... 'okay', 'Merry Christmas', 'Mom'... why is that?"
Frisk was quiet for a moment. "I went through a lot of foster homes," Frisk explained, finally. "One of the ones I remember the best were Americans. They were stationed at," Frisk wracked her brain, trying to remember, "Upper Hayford? A military base? I don't really remember. I'm pretty sure it was against the rules, but they were volunteering, and there were a lot of us. Mister and Miss Macintosh."
"Why'd you leave?" Ginny said, looking up from the cards.
"They were transferred back to the states, and I think the base closed." Frisk said. "I still get letters from them now and again. I'd like to send them one, but what could I say? Fell down a hole, came up with monsters, and now go to a school for magic? I think the ministry wouldn't approve."
"No... they probably wouldn't," Opal agreed.
They played through a couple of hands of Exploding Snap, talking about school work, and their plans for the holiday season. "That's actually an interesting question," Luna said, after one hand.
"What is?" asked Ginny.
"What does one get monsters for Christmas?"
Frisk went scarlet. "You know," she said, "I haven't even thought of that. What do I get my friends for Christmas?" This prompted a lot of discussion, as Frisk told them what each of them was like. Papyrus and Dad were the easiest to sort out, they'd be happiest with books, a puzzle book for Papyrus, and a book on magical plants and gardening for Dad. Mom was a little tougher, but she liked to cook, so a recipe book would be a good idea. Undyne and Alphys were proving to be a lot tougher.
"What's anime?" asked Ginny.
Frisk blinked. How does one explain anime to someone who didn't know what a TV was? "Well, it's kind of like a comic book," she began. This took them on a detour through entertainment for magic-less people. She would have to have her friends over to see what anime was first hand, at some point.
"How about a book on dragons?" Ginny finally suggested. "My brother Charlie works with dragons, and he is always talking about them."
"Real life dragons?" Frisk asked, startled. "Oh. Right. 'Dragon Heartstring'. That's a brilliant idea, Ginny! They'd think they were the best thing ever. Then she frowned. But what do I get Sans?" Sans was hard. The only thing that had truly made him happy was his brother, and she didn't want to bring up what he had said when she'd encountered his soul directly.
There was quiet around the table, as nobody seemed to have a good idea. "You said he valued his memories?" Luna finally asked. Frisk nodded. "A camera," Luna said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "A wizard camera that can take moving pictures." That was also a great idea.
Satisfied, they went back to the card game. The conversation drifted between discussions of Potions (nobody liked Snape that much), to the decorations in the Charms room (Luna wondered what he had bribed the Fairies with), to what they actually hoped to get for Christmas themselves (Opal wanted a broom of her own).
"You know, there's been something that's bothering me," Frisk admitted as the clock began to wind towards dinner, and they started to think they should be packing things they wanted to take home. She explained how she'd seen Hermione race through the corridors, vanish into thin air, and then, apparently, manage to take two classes during the same period.
"Oh, that's easy," Luna said. "She travels in time."
Frisk felt her blood run suddenly cold. "Is that possible?" Opal asked.
"Sure. Daddy says the crumple-horned snorkack can travel in time when it is discovered, making it appear to vanish."
"Oh," Frisk said. "So it just goes back and makes different decisions, so it's not caught, right?"
"No," Luna said, tilting her head at Frisk, "it just goes back in time to before the hunter comes, then goes about its way. It has to be careful not to go to where it's already been though, since it is scared of meeting a prior version of itself. That's how you catch it."
"Luna... there's no such thing..." Ginny began.
"...no, is it really possible to travel back in time?" Frisk said, gripping the table intently, staring at Luna with a fevered expression.
"Frisk, are you alright? You don't look well," Opal said, and she looked worried. "Maybe you should go to the hospital wing."
"No. I need to know. Can you travel back in time?" Frisk asked, her intensity only growing.
Luna had been set to retort at Ginny, but she turned to regard Frisk with mild curiosity. "It's the simplest solution isn't it?"
It was the simplest solution, and Frisk released her death grip on the table, falling back in the chair. A single thought burned through her mind.
You can save him.
And she was filled with determination.