While news of Snape's uncharacteristic compliment of a Gryffindor made it around the school relatively quickly, most people wrote it off as a sort of payback for Frisk coming to Steven's defense. The fact that she'd left one of Gryffindor's own partner-less was a bit harder for some people to swallow.

For the people for whom this was an issue, pointing out that there was a Slytherin Laura could have partnered with didn't go any better.

But it wasn't only the Gryffindors that Frisk had to look out for, as she found when she tried to head into the Great Hall for lunch the next day. As she came down from Charms, she found her way blocked by three older Slytherins, one was a familiar blond boy with a pointed face, sneering down at her. The other two might have been part troll. "Do you know who I am?" inquired the blond, as the other two glared down at her. Again, a thought bubbled to the surface of Frisk's mind.

That's little Draco.

"You're Draco Malfoy," Frisk said, pulling his last name from the embroidery on his robe. "Ch... no, seeker for the Slytherin team, right?"

Draco seemed surprised, and a bit flattered, but nodded in acknowledgment. "And you are Frisk Dreemurr. I have some... advice for you," he drawled. "Stay away from Slytherin students. I know what you're planning, you're looking for someone to spy on us for Gryffindor. Don't even try it."

His family was devoted to Voldemort... but to each other even more.

That was interesting, but not particularly helpful at the moment. "I just saw someone who needed help, Draco," Frisk said, softly. "Do you really believe that only a Slytherin would help another of your house? I don't even care about your Quidditch game."

"Don't lie to me, first year," Draco said, threateningly, and the two lackeys behind him stepped up closer, looking down menacingly at Frisk. "There's only one reason a Gryffindor would step in front of another Gryffindor, though... I will give you that it was a very clever plan."

"Is the idea that someone might genuinely care about a Slytherin being bullied that impossible to you?" Frisk asked softly. The fact that it even seemed possible horrified her. Had the rivalry between them and Gryffindor gotten that bad?

The main door opened with a loud click, as Professor Sprout came in from the greenhouses. She took in the scene quickly, focusing on Malfoy with a quick, "What's going on here?"

"Nothing, Professor," said Malfoy sullenly, and his two lackeys slunk off.

"Really?" Professor Sprout said with an eyebrow raised. "What was really going on, Frisk?" she asked as Malfoy retreated into the great hall.

"Malfoy thought I was trying to befriend Steven Marsh to spy on Slytherin for my house," Frisk said. Saying it aloud didn't make it sound any more sensible to her. "I think he was trying to threaten me. But I'm not going to let him stop me."

"I'd hope not," the herbology teacher told her. "But are you sure, Frisk? You look like you've been crying."

Frisk blinked, and reached up to wipe her eyes. Sure enough, they felt damp, and Frisk had no idea why. She'd seen far more frightening things than a couple of bullies during her time in the underground. "I'm sure, Professor. I'm not going to give up on people like that."

Professor Sprout's smile still showed a bit of concern, but she didn't pursue it any further. "I'll have a word with Professor Snape, then. Thank you, Frisk."

Frisk expressed her own thanks, and went off for lunch. But she had appeared to have upset the natural order of Hogwarts. Apparently, someone had even complained to McGonagall, because she took time out of Wednesday's transfiguration class to specifically point out that Frisk had the right to make friends with anyone in the school she chose to. "And I do not want to hear that anyone is continuing to make an issue of it. Am I perfectly clear?"

That put a stop to most of it, as Gryffindor was more concerned about actual Slytherins than someone who befriended one of them. Steven might have been the first bullying target, but he certainly wasn't the last, and it didn't seem like the rivals for the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup were intending to simply settle it on the field.

With everything else that had gone on, Frisk had asked Steven to meet the others in the history of magic classroom that evening. She'd moved the desks in the room around to create a six-person circle. Steven was the first to arrive, and they'd started by discussing the increasing hostility between their houses. "All of this over a quidditch match?" Frisk complained, "How could a single game, even a championship game, be worth this?"

"It'd actually be worse if there was no quidditch," Steven told her, to Frisk's stare of disbelief. "No, really. This is all because Harry Potter attacked Draco Malfoy in Hogsmeade. The Slytherins are mad about the coddling and want to take it out on him."

"It was a snowball," said a cold voice from the doorway. Frisk and Steven turned, and saw Ron and Harry openly glaring at Steven. "What is he doing here?"

Steven's eyes flicked up to the scar on Harry's forehead and turned beet red. "I offered to help," he mumbled, staring down at his shoes. "She said she needed help."

"We don't need his help," Ron said hotly, still standing in the doorway.

"What?" Hermione asked, peering between the two boys. "Is Draco in there?" Luna, Ginny, and Opal, in short order, appeared behind them, forcing Harry and Ron into the room proper. This didn't improve the mood, though. "Oh," Hermione said when she entered. "Steven, isn't it? You were the Slytherin that was being bullied by Cormac, right? Frisk told me about it."

"Ron," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "You can't judge the entire house because of one person, or even their quidditch team. Fine, maybe you could. But you shouldn't."

"I still think he's some sort of spy," Ron said stubbornly.

"I unders..." mumbled Steven, pushing himself up from the desk he was sitting at.

"Draco thought the same thing," Frisk interrupted. "This isn't some sort of scheme... from any of us. I trust him. I don't think either of us looking for some sort of quidditch spy."

Ron looked embarrassed to be compared to Malfoy like that. Steven sat back down, the others came in, sitting as well. Only Ron and Harry remained standing.

"Draco's a self-important git," Steven admitted, raising his head. He still avoided Harry's eyes. "He's got his clique, but a lot of us ignore him."

"Then why do Slytherins want revenge for Hogsmeade?" Harry demanded. "It was just snowballs. If he's that much of a git, I'd think they'd want to throw one too."

"You've met Malfoy, right?" Steven said, "Do you think he'd said he'd been hit with snowballs? He said you just appeared out of nowhere to throw rocks at them, and Crabbe and Goyle backed him up. I mean, think about it; you sneaked out of Hogwarts, you ambushed Malfoy, and you didn't even get a detention out of it."

"What's the problem?" Luna asked, cocking her head, "Are they jealous that Harry's better at being a Slytherin then they are?" Steven tried to suppress a giggle, but failed.

But Frisk felt her stomach drop. "How much of that is true, Harry?" Frisk asked.

"They were snowballs, not rocks," Harry insisted. The tint in Harry's face suggested there was something else to it, but he left no clue what it would be. He also didn't deny anything else.

"You should apologize for scaring him," Frisk said. She knew exactly what she was about to get into, but it didn't matter. It was the same cycle that was happening between the houses.

"Apologize?" Harry said in total disbelief, "To Malfoy? That git? He ran straight to his protector, Snape, trying to get me into trouble. You must be joking. Malfoy deserved it."

Steven looked like he was going to add something, then thought better of it, like he didn't want to get involved in this row. Ginny leaned over and touched him on the shoulder. "Go ahead. We're listening."

"He said the same thing about you," Steven mumbled, "How you were saved by Lupin, your own personal protector. How anyone not biased would have done something to punish you. But you got off untouched. Because you're the Gryffindor golden boy."

There was a very unhappy silence for several seconds. Opal finally broke it, "I think it'd be easier to be sympathetic to Malfoy if he wasn't taunting Harry over his weaknesses elsewhere. Do you remember the first Quidditch match? When the dementors showed up? I seem to remember you running down to the field. Then what happens in the next one? Malfoy shows up dressed a dementor."

"Or even in potions, just the class afterward," Hermione added. "Malfoy spent the whole class taunting Harry for losing his broom, and Snape didn't say a word."

Ginny looked uncomfortable, and Frisk had a good guess about what she was thinking. Draco's father had given her a cursed diary They didn't know if Mr. Malfoy had known it was going to try to kill Ginny, only that it would 'Open the Chamber of Secrets'. None of that actually mattered. Children are not their parents, and they were pretty sure Draco had no idea what had gone on.

Frisk looked at the floor, just for a moment. This miscommunication and rivalry felt all too familiar. It was just like going through the whole Underground with the monsters thinking she was a threat. They became some of her closest friends and family, but what if they hadn't? What if she had gotten mad and fought back to some of those who had really wanted to hurt her, like Mad Dummy or Undyne? It would have been a bad time. For everyone.

"So where does it stop?" Frisk asked. "Will it keep just going until someone gets hurt? Killed? And Draco might be a jerk, but that doesn't mean we have to be one too."

"Draco deserved it," Hermione said, though her voice was tinged with guilt. Frisk cocked her head, puzzled. "He was going on and on about how 'pathetic' Professor Hagrid was. You were going to hit him first if I didn't," she looked at Harry and Ron to back her up.

"I still can't believe you did that," Ron admitted. "And you might be right, though I think everyone was there was stunned."

"And if he hit you back?" Opal asked, "How bad of a brawl is it, the three of you against him, and his two bodyguards?"

"Wait, what happened?" Frisk asked.

"You didn't know?" Opal asked. "Hermione slugged Draco, a few weeks ago."

Frisk simply stared.

"So what's your suggestion?" Harry asked. He had very carefully kept his voice neutral, and Frisk was pretty sure she was on thin ice. Being nice to monsters was easier than with stubborn wizards, it seemed.

Frisk thought for a second. "Do it in private... maybe with Steven there," she started. "If he doesn't accept, and you don't think he will, then you will have done what you could. If he's still trollish, then you'll know that you're better than he was."

Harry stared at Frisk's determined expression, perhaps trying to gaze how serious she was. "I'll think about it," he said finally. Then he sat down. Frisk gave a mental sigh of relief.

There was quiet for another space, "So," Ron asked Steven. "If you don't look up to people like Malfoy, who do you look up to?"

"Me?" Steven asked. "There's two. Winston Churchill." He looked at the surprised looks around the room. "The muggle politician, that's right. But he was clever enough to know what was going on Germany, what kind of person was really in charge over there, and above all, what to say and how to say it to people to get it done. He did what was necessary at the darkest part of muggle history. The other is Batman."

"Wait," Hermione said, laughing, "Batman? He's a master detective! He has to be a Ravenclaw."

"Oh, come on," Steven protested. "He disappeared for ten years for the ambition of being stronger than any criminal, and he's cunning enough to outwit them, too. If that's not a Slytherin, I don't know what is."

"He does it because he cares about everyone," Opal put in, "He does it so nobody else has to suffer like he did. He belongs with Hufflepuff."

"No way," Harry said, "Jumping into overwhelming odds, going toe to toe with superheroes because it's the right thing to do, that's Gryffindor."

Ron stared at the group blankly. "Who's Batman?"

At breakfast, on the Friday before Easter break, Percy Weasley arrived with a note that Headmaster Dumbledore wished to meet with Frisk after dinner. This cheered up Frisk no end. And apparently, that wasn't the only mail that was delivered that day. A few minutes after the owls dropped the various pieces of post throughout the hall, Ron and Ginny came up behind Frisk.

"It came," Ron said without preamble. Ginny's face had that mixture of hope and terror that was normally reserved for seeing one's exam scores, and Ron didn't look any calmer. He held up a thick envelope addressed to "Ronald Weasley, Hogwarts Great Hall".

Frisk silently reached into a pocket, and produced her dad's Swiss army knife. She found the letter opener, and handed it over to Ron.

Ron, his hands shaking, cut the envelope open as carefully as he could, then returned the knife to Frisk. He reached in, and pulled the long piece of paper out. "It's in Mum's handwriting," he said, and his expression fell.

"Oh no," Ginny said, and Frisk remembered that they'd been utterly convinced she wouldn't say yes that they'd written to their dad instead. "What's she say?" she asked.

"That this caused a long row with Dad," Ron said, reading the letter slowly. "He wanted to let us, saying we should trust Dumbledore, but that she wouldn't hear of it. We're only kids, and that we think we're invincible, and that we have no idea what we're risking."

"I'm sorry, Frisk," Ginny said, closing her eyes.

"Wait, Ginny, there's more," Ron said. "She says they had to argue about it several times. Finally, he came home with a copy of The Quibbler, and while she would not..." Ron looked around for Luna, but she wasn't nearby, "normally read such rubbish, she did read the interview with your mum. And she was astounded that they were so much alike, how it felt to lose two children, and how much she cared for them."

"In the end," Ron continued, "She says Dad played dirty. He said how he was glad nobody told Harry Potter that 'he had no idea what he was risking when Ginny was lost in the Chamber of Secrets'." He lifted his gaze to his sister, and then Frisk, his eyes were as wide as the plates breakfast was being served on. "She says to be sure to bring Asriel home... and to come home ourselves," he reached into the envelope, pulling out the two signed forms. "I'll go give these to Dumbledore, right now!"

"Wait for me, Ron!" Ginny exclaimed, racing afterward. She raced so quickly, that she bumped into Neville, who was returning to breakfast after visiting the staff table himself.

"Five down," Frisk whispered to nobody in particular. "Two to go."

That evening, Frisk went to the Gargoyle on the second floor, and was prompted for the password. "Creme Egg," Frisk said, and the Gargoyle leaped aside.

"The others have already arrived," it told her, as she ascended the spiral stairwell into the headmaster's study. When she emerged, she saw the headmaster, an older gentleman that could only be Kurt Kairos of the Department of Mysteries, and, to her surprise, Hermione Granger.

"Oh good," Professor Dumbledore said, "We are all here. Frisk, you need to know that Kurt has been to meet with your friend Sans, and they have been to visit the underground. What can you tell us, Kurt?"

"That Sans is an incorrigible punster and prankster. He's unlike any other magical being I've met, and I'm glad I can call him a friend," Mr. Kairos told them, "His machine is a thing of wonder, I think if he'd had more help to work on it, and possibly a few more years, that he'd have made a time machine strictly on muggle technology, which I didn't think was possible. But while it's going to take more time," Kurt paused, and Frisk gave an appreciative giggle, "I think we have something that will do exactly what you want it to. But there's a problem. There's only so much weight it can take and have it remain stable. One adult, and maybe a child."

Frisk caught the implications. "But... but I want to bring back," she stammered out.

"As Professor Dumbledore said, you wanted to bring, of all things, a corpse from the past. The only way you're going to do that is by sending one child, possibly two." Hermione looked slightly sickened at that statement.

"Which is why," the headmaster explained, "I've asked Ms. Granger up here tonight. She was asking for a way to help this foray, and Ms. Granger is a calm, bright young woman that you will need for a mission such as this."

Hermione turned from slightly green to slightly pink, "Thank you, headmaster,"

"But, that brings us to the next question," Professor Dumbledore. "What did you find in the sunlit room?"

"Ah, yes, the grave," Mr. Kairos said, and Hermione blanched. "I had to do that bit alone. Sans said the room had a resident that really ought to be kept from seeing what we were doing. Not sure what he did with him, but I never saw him. Anyway, I dug up..."

"You dug up a grave?" Hermione asked, "That... can't be a good idea. Is it even legal?"

"As it turns out," Mr. Kairos said, "It wasn't a grave at all," he pulled out a bag, and dropped it on the headmaster's desk. It was a collection of what appeared to be different types of bandages, some wool, some plastic, some linen. "I also found what seems to have been a wand," he said, placing a holly stave on the table. "You'd have to ask Ollivander what the core was, but I think it's gone to sleep from boredom. And the third thing," he indicated what looked like a large doll that had been propped in the corner, "Looks like a healer's practice doll. I'd need to wake the wand, and a Prior Incantato to be sure, but there's some signs it'd been transfigured before. If I had to guess, the wand was powering that transfiguration, until it grew bored and went to sleep."

"What I did not find," he said ruefully, "was any sort of body," and so saying, he reached into his pocket and dropped four candy bars on the desk. "So I lose. And only you, Dumbledore, would put a couple of galleons against an American muggle candy bar. So here they are, four Almond Joys, like you asked."

"Oh, good, that's one for each of us," Dumbledore said, smiling. "One for you too, Kurt, go ahead, tear in. I can't wait to try mine."

Hermione and Frisk exchanged glances, but took the offered candy bars. Frisk unwrapped hers and bit in. It had coconut, and reminded Frisk of a Bounty bar, except that it had nuts.

"Does that mean," Hermione asked, swallowing a bite of her chocolate. "The reason that you didn't find a corpse, was that we've... well, already taken it with us, in time?"

"At the very least, someone buried a wand there a long while back for us to find," Mr. Kairos confirmed. "And Sans said he checked it out with the queen, there should have been a body there. So I think she buried a transfigured duplicate."

"Looks like you get your wish, Frisk," Dumbledore said, beaming at her. "Kurt, how long do you think it will take to get that machine working?"

"I'm still not convinced it's a good idea," Mr. Kairos told them, "but it looks like it's already been done, and I don't want to cause a paradox myself. So... two months? End of term?"

"There you go, Frisk, if I have all six forms in by then, there is over a full day between exams and the trip home. That is a perfect day for your quest, I think."

"We have four," Frisk confirmed, "And I'm hoping Steven will be the fifth. But do you have any suggestions for whom the sixth person should be?"

"I do not," the headmaster said, but the full smile didn't leave his face, "but I think you'll be fine, Ms. Dreemurr. And Ms. Granger, would you be willing to escort Frisk here back in time, to retrieve the soul of young Asriel, and the body and soul of young Chara?"

"I will! I mean, I am," Hermione said, smiling at Frisk, who smiled her appreciation back.

"Excellent," Professor Dumbledore said. "Then, I must ask you two to head back to your common room. "Me and Mr. Kairos have some other things to discuss this evening. Thank you for your time."

"And thank you, Mr. Kairos," Frisk said, "for everything," She walked over to shake his hand, before heading down the spiral staircase.

The thought that she might be able to rescue Asriel and Chara had filled her with determination.