[A/N: Mary is referred to as Liz in the first section of this chapter, and Hermione is Jeanie because the section is written from Lilian's perspective, and that's how she thinks of her friends.]

Tuesday, 21 September 1993

Hogwarts

Lilian

"Hey, Jeanie! Wait up! We need to talk to you!" Lilian called, hurrying out of Flitwick's classroom after her friend. Liz trailed along behind. Lilian knew full well that the younger girl was still uncomfortable with the plan, despite agreeing to go along with it in the face of the older Slytherin's emotional manipulation. She felt a bit bad about that, actually. She normally refrained from pushing Lizzie's buttons, since it was almost too easy, but she firmly believed that this would be the best course of action in the long run, and Jeanie was more likely to agree if Liz was already on board, no matter how reluctantly.

Due to the resumption of Quidditch practices in addition to detentions and their usual class work, what Lilian was privately thinking of as 'The Time Turner Talk' still had not occurred. After spending the entire weekend trying to catch both Liz and Jeanie free at the same time, she decided she would have to corner Hermione after their first shared class of the week after which both Slytherin and Ravenclaw had a free period. It was simply too risky to wait any longer. Liz might catch on to the fact that Lilian was manipulating her at any time, and then she would never agree to help.

"Lili! Liz! Does it have to be now? I have to finish something before my next class."

Liz wavered, but Lilian barged ahead. "Yes. Now. Come on, it's important." She grabbed Jeanie by the arm and dragged her bodily into the nearest empty classroom.

"Lili… Lilian! What on Earth is so important?"

"This is an intervention," Lilian said as solemnly as she could, despite her excitement. Why Liz and Jeanie weren't excited about the existence of a Time Turner, not to mention their access to one, she had no idea.

Jeanie stared at her in astonishment. "What?"

"We know about the Time Turner, Maia," Liz said, closing ranks with Lilian between the Ravenclaw and the door.

"Time Turner? What the hell are you on about? I haven't got a Time Turner!" Hermione objected.

"Hermione Jean Granger!" Lilian used her most-disappointed tone. "I can't believe you would lie to your friends about something like this!" Friendship was almost as easy a button with Jeanie as it was with Liz, and she knew that Jeanie had been told off by her parents for lying on more than one occasion.

The Ravenclaw sputtered for a few seconds. "But – I'm not lying!"

Liz sniggered, probably at their older friend's badly-faked tone of indignant offence. "The twins say you have got one."

"What?!" Jeanie's screech, Lilian was fairly certain, could be heard in the Great Hall. "How do those sodding bastards know about it?"

"So you admit it!" Lilian pounced. Not that it hadn't entirely been given away when Hermione hadn't asked what a Time Turner was.

"What? No! No Time Turner!"

"Prefect Weasley had one, too, apparently," Liz explained, ignoring Jeanie's protests. "They've seen you on the Marauders' Map in two places at once."

"Goddamnit! Yes, fine, I have a Time Turner, what about it?"

"I knew it!" the blonde Slytherin crowed. That was the first hurdle overcome – now all they needed was for Jeanie to agree that she should use it to the fullest possible extent.

Which might be easier said than done, because Jeanie looked furious. "Oh, stuff it, Lili."

Liz, on the other hand, just looked a bit lost. "Why wouldn't you tell us?" Lilian mentally smacked herself for not realizing that their younger friend would likely be upset by Jeanie's lying to her, especially since she had been defending the older girl, and Lilian had been pouring words like trust in her ears. Oops.

"I wasn't allowed!" the Ravenclaw protested angrily. "There's all kinds of ways I can get kicked out of the program for next year, and most of them have to do with telling other people I have the Time Turner. You two have just completely ruined everything!" There were tears of frustration in her eyes.

Lilian instantly felt guilty, and from the look on her face, Liz did as well. Still, she refused to admit it. It was too late to back out of the confrontation now. "Liz told you, the twins already knew. And it's stupid to think you could keep it a secret the whole year, anyway."

"That's the whole fucking point, Lilian! You can't be an Unspeakable if you can't keep a secret!"

"Maybe they won't blame you, because we figured it out on our own?" Liz suggested.

Jeanie buried her face in her hands, growling in frustration. "What did you even want?"

"We were worried about you," Lilian explained in a very small voice. "We – I," she revised, on spotting Lizzie's warning look, "think that you're working yourself too hard."

"So you thought you'd just go poking your nose in where it's not welcome and ruin a great opportunity for me? Thanks, Lilian. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"That's not fair," Liz leapt to her fellow Slytherin's defense. "We didn't know you couldn't talk about it. Last time you were all secretive like this you turned yourself into Catgirl."

"So you just assumed I was hiding something? You don't think I learned anything from that?"

"Just the difference between human and cat hair," Lilian sniped, but Jeanie ignored her.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, there, Elizabeth. You just – urgh! You know what? I'm done. I can't talk to you right now." She dug a glittering bauble out of her robes and fiddled with it for a moment before disappearing right in front of them with a sniffle.

"Well," Lilian said drily, staring at the spot where their friend had, until recently, stood. "That could have gone better."

}{-}{-}{-}{-}{

It was a rather red-eyed Jeanie who eventually showed up to Arithmancy. She hadn't appeared at all during lunch, and according to a worried Padma Patil, she had missed History as well. Lilian watched out of the corner of her eye as the other Ravenclaws fluttered around her friend, asking what was wrong and where she had been during class. Her answer was too quiet for Lilian to make out, but it must have been something along the lines that they had had a fight, because Padma glared at Liz and Lilian's table and put a protective arm around the bushy-haired girl.

Liz sighed, obviously resigned to not-speaking with Jeanie again for several days, at least, but Lilian wasn't having it. A soon as Professor Vector dismissed them, she stomped right up to the little clique of Ravenclaws and demanded to speak to her friend.

"You can't just run away any time someone says something you don't want to hear," she glared at the older girl. Nobody just walks away from Lilian Grace Moon!

"Back off, Moon!" Mandy Brocklehurst demanded, stepping forward so that she and Padma were both between Jeanie and the Slytherins, but Jeanie laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Mandy. I have to deal with them eventually."

"Are you sure?" Padma asked. "You seemed really upset, earlier."

"I was. I still am, actually," she glared at Lilian before turning back to her roommate. "But yes, it'll be better if we get this over with."

"We can wait, if you want," Mandy offered. Padma nodded earnestly.

"It's fine. You go ahead. I'll catch up."

"If you're sure…" Padma sent a concerned look at her fellow Raven.

"We just want to apologize," Liz said quietly. Give that girl a biscuit, Lilian thought sardonically. She really was quite good at getting what she wanted, when she didn't think too hard about it.

Mandy sniffed derisively. "I'm sure. Just remember, we're keeping an eye on you Snakes."

Lilian smirked. "I'm sure you are. Run along now."

As the Ravenclaws left, Mandy angry, and Padma still clearly concerned, Liz had to ask, "Did you have to be so condescending?"

"Hmmm… yes," Lilian decided as she steered Jeanie into another empty room. The older girl jerked her arm away roughly. "Don't you dare slip off again. You have to listen to us!"

"I don't have to do anything, Lilian Moon!" Hermione snapped.

"Oh, Moon, is it, Granger? Look, I'm sorry we messed up your secret program thing, but obviously no one ever told us we weren't supposed to ask questions." She filed away the funny look on Liz's face at that. She would have to ask the younger girl about it later, but right now, it would just be a distraction. "What, do you want to have all stupid friends instead? Go hang around Brown and Red Patil – I'm sure they'd never think to ask where you're at all the time. Blue Patil and Brocklehurst probably know as well, and it's only a matter of time until the twins expose you if you keep pissing them off. Liz and I only brought it up because we care about you!"

"Oh, you care. You care so much you would rather butt in where you're not wanted than trust that there are some things that just aren't your business, you nosey bitch!"

"Hermione…" Liz tried to break up the spat, but Lilian talked over her. The sooner they got this out of the way, the better. She still hadn't gotten to make her point, after all.

"I'm a nosey bitch? That is rich coming from you. Which one of us decided we needed to get involved in the Chamber of Secrets mess? Which one of us can't stand having a mystery in front of her for more than two seconds? Who was convinced it was a good idea to chase Snape into that bloody obstacle course?"

"Lilian…"

"YOU!" Jeanie nearly shouted. "You are simply incorrigible! And those were big things, and you were right there with me. You – you're a gossip. You can't help getting up in everyone's business, telling stories with the Hufflepuffs and Pansy Parkinson and making things up when what you've got to trade isn't good enough! I know you're the one who made up the story about Eloise Midgen and Steve Cornfoot getting caught in a broom cupboard!"

"They were! I had it from Sean!"

"So what, Lilian? So bloody what? Even if you did, it's not any of your business either way! Just like it's not your business what I'm doing every minute of the day or how I'm getting all my lessons in!"

"It is our business when we're worried about our friend! You've been working yourself into the ground, Jeanie, and none of the Ravenclaws are going to say Jack!"

"Why? Because they don't care like you do? D'you think I'm an idiot, Lilian? I know what you're doing! Implying you're my real friends, right? Well, Padma and Mandy haven't said anything because they know how important my studies are to me!"

"Guys, please don't fight. Not like this!" Liz was obviously uncomfortable with this escalation from the older girls' usual bickering.

Lilian ignored her protests. This was not the time to placate her less emotionally competent friend. There would be time for that after she finished getting her point across. "Everybody in the sodding school knows that, moron! You don't need to prove it by working twenty-seven hours a day!"

What Jeanie might have said next, Lilian and Liz never discovered, as there was a loud knock on the open door.

All three girls turned to look at the smirking redheads standing there. "Bad time, loves?" "We'd come back later," "but we don't want to."

"What do you want? We're kind of in the middle of something here," Lilian snapped.

"What do we want, Fred?"

"Excellent question, George!"

"Fame?"

"Fortune?"

"Pretty bird?"

"Repayment for the ten galleons worth of potions ingredients someone ruined by transfiguring them into other ingredients?"

"Reckon that'd be a good start."

The boys glared intently at Jeanie, who groaned and muttered what Lilian thought was, "Why me?" under her breath.

"It's one thing to ruin our pranks."

"We respect that, to be right honest."

"Takes a good bit of skill to get one over on us."

"That it does, Fred."

"Bit cute, we thought."

"Flirty," George nodded.

Then Fred changed the tone of their tirade to match their still-menacing glares: "But ratting out who's who to the whole school?"

"Burbage gave us detention for a month!"

"Vector threatened to have us expelled, Granger!"

Hermione blanched, but refused to back down. "You shouldn't have been switching classes, then!" she defended herself weakly.

One twin tried to talk over her, but the other stopped, him, changing tracks. "Oh, so sorry, Miss Perfect,"

"We can't all have bloody Time Turners!"

"Thought you'd learned your lesson, we had,"

"Yeah, and don't think we didn't notice you didn't reverse all of our little improvements!"

"But you couldn't let it go, could you?"

"Sabotaging our supplies?"

"That's low, Granger!"

"And it wasn't low to turn me into a bloody catgirl?" Jeanie finally got another word in edge-wise. "You sodding bastards never even apologized!"

"Bloody hell, you're still on about that?" Whichever Weasley was speaking looked, Lilian thought, genuinely surprised. She and Liz hovered on the edge of the conversation. Apparently Liz was just as much at a loss as Lilian herself. Perhaps moreso – at least Lilian had been keeping up with the gossip floating around about the latest Weasley pranks gone wrong – Liz never bothered.

"I was a catgirl for weeks! That potion's not meant for animal transformations! What if I hadn't been able to figure out how to get back to normal?! You bloody wankers certainly didn't have any ideas. At least we got you a girl cat, Firecracker," she said mockingly. "Morons! You could have killed me, you didn't know!"

"Well you nearly killed George!" Hermione gaped at (presumably) Fred.

The other boy mimicked Hermione's mocking tone. "Oh, I'll just transfigure some ground porcupine quills into ground dillweed! Replace the alum with baking powder! Surely nothing will blow the bloody lab to bits!"

Hermione scowled. "Don't give me that shite. All the important stuff is behind imperturbable wards."

"Not us!" Fred objected.

"You're obviously fine! Besides, you self-righteous jackasses deserve everything you get! You dragged my best friend into the Chamber of sodding Secrets so you could go fight a fucking Basilisk with –"

The boys responded as one. "We had to save Ginny!"

"You're not even sorry!"

"No! If we had to," "We'd do it again!"

Apparently Liz had had enough at that point, because she turned on her heel and left without a word, slamming the door behind her. Lilian didn't blame her. If she had been kidnapped and then told that her kidnappers didn't even regret their decision, she would have been hard pressed not to hex them, at least. But there was no way Liz could take on the two pranksters, even with the help of Jeanie and herself. They'd have to be sneakier about their revenge.

"Like I said, self-righteous jackasses! And that is why I'm going to continue making your lives a living hell, you obnoxious, overgrown Griffin-shites!"

One of the boys – Fred? – stepped forward with a growl, his fingers white on his wand, but his brother grabbed his arm and hauled him back. "No. No! Don't you dare, Freddie! We came here to get our money back and put a stop to this, not hex the bint into next week. We are not going to get into a sodding war with Ravenclaw over this!" Smart move, Lilian thought. Ravenclaw could be bloody dangerous when crossed. They hardly ever involved themselves in an inter-house war, but they just might rouse themselves on behalf of their newest rising star.

"You heard her, George, she's planning to keep on mucking us around!"

"Granger, what will it take to make this go away?" the clearly-more-levelheaded twin asked.

A speculative look crossed the older girl's face, then blossomed into an evil grin. "Well an apology would be a good start, but since you've just admitted that you wouldn't mean it… I want the Map."

"No sodding way!" Fred snapped, but George, still holding onto his arm, dragged him aside, casting some kind of privacy charm around them so they could argue without the girls listening in. After a very long minute, Fred jerked away, breaking the charm. "Fine! But we want you to swear that you're not going to use it against us."

"Not just swear," his brother corrected. "We want a truce oath."

"What?" Jeanie asked flatly, clearly not having read of such a thing.

"You swear on your magic that you will let bygones lie, and not seek retribution or retaliate for past actions on their part," Lilian explained, quietly impressed that the Weasleys knew of such things, let alone had thought to use it here. She had only found out about them over the summer, and the book they had been in was more than a bit Dark. "It's not quite as solid as an Unbreakable Vow, but there's still a penalty for breaking it."

"An Oathbreaker's Mark," one of the boys added.

Lilian continued. "Basically you draw a line under everything between you and start fresh, or you get branded and everyone knows your word isn't worth shite."

"Would that apply to them, too?" Hermione asked.

"Obviously," "Truce goes both ways." Lilian nodded in confirmation.

"Fine. I get the map, and we swear a truce."

"And you pay for the ingredients you ruined!"

Jeanie bit her lip. "Okay, I guess that's fair."

"Here." One of the boys held out a grubby, folded bit of parchment and tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The ink had barely begun to spread across the page, just as Liz had described, when he muttered the counter-key: "Mischief managed."

The Ravenclaw took the map gingerly and tucked it into her pocket before turning back to Lilian. "Alright. How does this oath work, then?"

Lilian took a moment to scribble out the terms of an oath on a scrap of parchment, wracking her memory for the official wording, and held it out to her friend. "Hold your wand to your heart, yeah, like that, and read this off."

The older girl gave her a rather dubious look, but she did as instructed: "I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear upon my honor to uphold a truce with Fred and George Weasley, taking no further revenge for the Catification Incident or the Chamber of Secrets Debacle," (The Weasleys sniggered at Lilian's names, but there was no doubt they all knew what they were talking about, which was the important thing.) "or for any other pranks or mischief caused by them before this day, unless they should break their own vow of truce with me. Twice and thrice-sworn before enemies and allies, and the eyes of Magic Itself. So mote it be."

There was a flash of light from Jeanie's wand, a spark that separated into three and sank into each of the others' foreheads as well as her own. They shivered. Lilian breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had never actually written an oath before. She didn't know anyone who had. In fact, she probably wasn't supposed to have read the book on them – her mother kept it on the top shelf in her personal study (which, of course, was why Lilian had deemed it interesting enough to read over the summer when she could be doing far more entertaining things than reading non-fiction). She was glad it had worked.

"Your turn," she said, holding out another bit of parchment for the twins.

They read it together: "We, Fredrick Gideon and George Fabian Weasley, do swear upon our honor to uphold a truce with Hermione Granger, taking no further revenge for any pranks or mischief caused by her before this day, unless she should break her own vow of truce with us. Twice and thrice-sworn, before enemies and allies, and in the eyes of Magic Itself. So mote it be."

The light-show repeated itself, and after a moment, one of the boys spoke up. Probably Fred. He'd been the more antagonistic the whole time. "Ten galleons, Granger, and then we're quits!"

Jeanie looked rather uncertain for the first time since the boys had barged in. "I haven't got ten galleons."

"Well you'd better get it!"

"You owe us – destruction of property!"

"I didn't bugger up everything, you imbecils! Only a few sickles-worth, here and there."

"Unless you plan on sorting out what you did bugger up, you owe us for the lot of it!"

"Fine! I'll come by after dinner and put everything to rights, and then we're done!"

"Good!" The boys answered angrily.

"Alright then!"

The Weasleys left the room with a final glare. As soon as they were gone, Hermione sagged into a nearby chair.

Lilian perched hesitantly on its desk and laid a hand on her friend's back. "Are you okay?"

Jeanie looked like she was about to start crying again. She leaned her head against the Slytherin's side, their argument apparently forgotten in the face of the twins' assault. "Fourteen's getting off to a great start."

Lilian winced. At least part of that was her fault. She had completely forgotten the Ravenclaw's birthday, and she was willing to bet that Liz had, too. "Look, Jeanie, I'm sorry. We're planning a surprise party for Sunday, and the actual date slipped our minds."

Hermione sniffled. "It's not today, Lilian, it was last Sunday."

"I know that," the Slytherin said automatically, then quickly tried to backtrack. "I, erm… I mean we forgot, but then we remembered, and that's why we're having a party next weekend."

The red-eyed girl glared at her. "I know you're lying to me, Lilian. Just – just stop it!"

"Fine! You caught me! We completely forgot! I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you, though. We really will have a party next weekend for you."

Jeanie shook her bushy head violently. "That won't even come close to making it up to me. Forgetting my birthday is literally the least awful part of all this!" There were tears in her eyes again.

Lilian hid a grimace. This wasn't going well at all. "Look, we didn't want to ruin your day, and… and I'm sorry for pushing you. This all just got… way out of hand. All we really wanted to say is we think you should use the thing more, get some bloody sleep instead of running yourself ragged. We know you can be in three places at once. Just… do that. If anyone could use a few more hours in the day, it's you."

"People will notice. Other people. I'm not supposed to be seen. Can't run into myself. Can't change anything. Bad things happen when you meddle with time."

The Slytherin snorted. That had to be the biggest understatement of the century. Of course bad things happened if you meddled with time. You could get lost in another timeline, or cause a paradox like in that old horror tale about crazy Emmett Brown. Everyone knew that. But still… "They wouldn't give you – schoolkids – that thing if you could really mess it up that badly."

Jeanie snorted in return. "That assumes they have some common sense, Lili."

"Look, if the problem is just being seen, ask Liz if you can borrow the cloak. We really are worried about you."

Jeanie laughed humorlessly. "Can you just imagine what I could do with the cloak, the map, and a time turner?"

"Camp out in the restricted section for days?" Lilian offered innocently.

The Ravenclaw tried to look offended, but failed miserably. "Like you wouldn't."

"Maybe." If she did, it would be for the sheer naughtiness of the adventure, or maybe bragging rights. Jeanie was just that much of a swot. In Lilian's opinion, that was an important distinction. "Anyway, just think about it, yeah? And even if you don't decide to go for it, at least steal a few more hours and sleep."

"Yeah, I'll think about it. Thanks Lili."

"What are friends for?" Lilian winked, and hopped off the desk. "Now, those of us who don't have control over their place in time are about to be late to class, so…"

"Yeah, I'll see you later."

Lilian slipped out the door with a flutter of fingers. All according to plan… more or less.

Wednesday, 22 September 1993 (Mabon)

The Room of Requirement

On Tuesday, when Mary had stormed out of the classroom where Hermione and the twins were arguing, she had been furious, at all of them – the twins, for kidnapping her in the first place; Lilian, for bringing up Hermione's time turner problem, and dragging Mary into it; and Hermione, too, for the way she seemed to be using Mary's experience in the Chamber almost as an excuse for her (very dangerous sounding) prank against the twins. She had, in fact, been so angry, that she could not think of a single thing to say to any of them – all that came to mind was a string of inarticulate swearing. She did, however, have enough sense to know that she didn't have to stand around listening to that kind of bullshit, so she left.

She spent the remaining time before her last class of the day in the library, where she found her new little trio of underclassmen trying to look up defensive jinxes, and pointed them in the right direction. Not only was it almost as satisfying imagining using some of those jinxes on the Weasley twins as it would be to cast them (she knew she would feel bad to see them actually suffering, but wishing it on them vindictively still felt good), but she also got the satisfaction of knowing she had been of some assistance to her young Client. Hopefully, if he and his new friends could defend themselves a bit, the other firsties and second-years at least would back off, and Alex and Nora would stick around.

Class passed quickly enough, with Mary ignoring Lilian's attempts to get her to talk, sitting between Blaise and Theo instead of in her usual place. She still was not very good at giving people the silent treatment, however, so by the end of dinner she had caved, and was answering the older Slytherin's attempts to draw her out. On the way to Quidditch practice, in relative privacy, since Draco had taken to walking out with Vinnie and Greg, Lilian filled her in on the outcome of the argument, and the fact that they had forgotten Hermione's birthday.

Mary wasn't sure if she was more or less irritated when she heard that Hermione had agreed to give up her crusade against the Weasleys, but she did agree that they weren't exactly prepared to enter a full-on pranking war with the Twin Terrors. And she agreed to lend Hermione the invisibility cloak until she found a better way to not be seen in three places at once. It was the least she could do to after forgetting the other girl's birthday (again). But she stubbornly insisted that Hermione would have to ask her for it herself.

Still, one of the most magical things about Hogwarts was that Mary was almost always kept too busy to dwell on any single upset for too long. Quidditch practice was exhausting, and by the time she hit the showers, she felt she had taken out all of her anger and frustration on the air. It had showed – Flint was torn between congratulating her on her flying, and tearing her a new arsehole for taking stupid risks all night. She still thought she might try to lead a bludger into one of the Gryffindor beaters during their first match of the season, just for their 'not sorry' attitude, but that was just a matter of principle – she was now far too tired to get emotionally worked up over them anymore, at least that night.

And then on Wednesday morning a package arrived, brought in with all the other post at breakfast by an anonymous eagle owl. There was no note, only Mary Elizabeth Potter, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, scrawled across the plain brown wrappings with the copperplate script of a dictaquill. This was surrounded by a series of postmarks in different colored inks: A bird and flag motif she didn't recognize in red and blue; the ICW's globe and crossed wands in green; the French fleur de lis that shifted from silver to gold, and the golden M and wand of the British Ministry. That and the French postmark had been on all the letters Hermione had sent her from France. Catherine said they were added as the letters were sent across the Channel. There was also a wax seal – green, with a pine tree pressed into it; and a large "Approved – Import Class I" stamp, which she presumed had something to do with customs.

She lifted it from the serving plate of eggs, making a face at the owl. Sometimes she thought hired owls deliberately tried to find the worst possible place to set their burdens down. It felt like a book. She hesitated to open packages from strangers, but if it had indeed cleared international customs, it was probably harmless. Class I artifacts and creatures generally were.

"What's that?" Lilian asked, finally having set down the editorials pages long enough to see that Mary had gotten a package.

"A book, I think."

"Who sent it?"

"No idea."

"Well, are you going to open it?"

"Would you give me a minute? Merlin's pants!"

Lilian laughed as she ripped open the paper. It was, indeed, a book. It was rather thin – only a little larger than Le Petit Prince, if Mary did not consider the heavy black leather cover. Like the older books in the Hogwarts library, it had a buckle to hold the covers closed, and no outside title. She opened it eagerly, wondering what it could possibly be, and who might have sent it to her, as there was no note in the wrappings, either. The first thing that came to mind, probably because she had just looked at it earlier that morning, was the invisibility cloak, which had appeared similarly mysteriously, without a note. Perhaps this was also from Dumbledore?

The first page read:

Lingua Serpentis
Historia et Usuum

Zurinye Slitherinis Secunda

1404

"Nine hells!" Lilian whispered, peering over her shoulder. Mary ignored her.

Okay, so it probably wasn't from Dumbledore. Mary's Latin wasn't the best, even after all the translating she'd done for Snape's detentions, but she knew 'Lingua Sepentis' meant 'Snake Language.' Unfortunately, that didn't really narrow down who had sent it.

Lilian was examining the post-marks, now. "This is the ABMG mark," she said, pointing at the stamp Mary hadn't recognized. "Do you even know anyone in America?"

Mary shook her head. After her establishing herself in Slytherin in first year, and the Chamber of Secrets incident second year, it was very common knowledge that The Girl Who Lived was a Parselmouth, but was she so well-known even in the States? She shuddered to think it. Perhaps it was meant to be deliberately misleading, or someone had sent it to her over their summer holidays, in an effort to curry favor? But if that was the purpose, surely whoever had sent it would have included a note. She briefly considered Snape, belatedly recalling the potions knife she was almost certain was from him, but he had no reason to post something to her, and certainly not from America. He could have just handed it to her after class.

She turned a few pages, idly examining them as she wondered where the book could possibly have come from. Again like many of the older library books, it was hand-written. The leaves were parchment, yellowed and musty with age, hand-sewn into the binding. The main text, beautifully copied gothic Latin, had faded slightly. The wide margins were heavily annotated by several different hands, also mostly in Latin, though there were a few scribbles that might have been very old English. Finally, there were pages and pages of notes written in cramped English and folded between the last page of the book and the back cover.

When she unfolded these, she found the first page mostly blank, save for a very odd message:

Ad Filia Prima de Familiae Slytherinis,
on this the occasion of her thirteenth year.

So anyone who had already sent her a birthday present was out. The dedication was followed by a note that had clearly been added later, with a different quill, though by the same hand:

Belated, I assure you, through no fault of my own. Are you aware that all owls sent to you without a location are returned to sender? It is most vexing. I assure you, there are better owl-wards out there that can screen undesirable post without turning away perfectly harmless books as well.

A bit of free advice for Mabon: get your bloody wards tuned!

Both Mary and Lilian sniggered at that, which earned them a curious look from Dave and Alex. The Professor had explained that there were anti-tracking spells on her which had resulted in her official letters from the bank and St. Mungo's being delayed, so she had known about the post issue. That didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact that it confirmed Snape hadn't sent it – he was the one who had made her untraceable, so he would already know about her post needing to be sent to a place rather than to her personally.

"So…" Lilian said slowly, "who do you think sent it?"

"Still no idea," Mary sighed. "Suppose I can ask Snape about it during office hours, see if he has any suggestions." She didn't want to – she was still a bit put out with him over the detentions – but he was her Head of House.

Lilian nodded, just as Hermione approached, somewhat less bouncily than usual. "Hi, guys," she said quietly. "You have a free first period, right?" The Slytherins nodded together. "Can I talk to you, then? Privately?"

"Don't mind us," Alex grinned, but Dave looked at his watch and stood up with a yelp.

"We've got to go, Al! We're going to be late for Herbology."

"Oh, Merlin's balls!" the shorter firstie complained. "All right, let's go, then. Swot."

The boys ran off, joining the majority of the students as the Great Hall cleared out.

"What's up, Maia?" Mary asked, tucking the book into her pocket. Having slept on it, and certain from Lilian's report that Hermione had finally washed her hands of the twins once and for all, she was willing to put yesterday behind them if the Ravenclaw was.

"I've decided to take your advice," the older girl said to both of them, without preamble. "This is my second time through this morning, and I was wondering, Elizabeth, could I borrow your cloak? I really, really can't be seen. I would be in so much trouble – Snape's detentions would be nothing in comparison."

Mary had been expecting this, which was why she had dug the little box that contained the cloak out of her trunk just that morning. She nodded, looking around as surreptitiously as she could. There were still a few seventh-years lingering at all the tables, and the Hufflepuff first or second-years – Mary wasn't sure which. At least all of their fellow third-years had elected to skip breakfast, or had gone off to finish last-minute homework. "I have it with me, but I can't give it to you here," she added in a whisper.

"C'mon," Lilian said excitedly. "Aerin found a new passage I want to show you!"

She led them out into the Entrance Hall, then up one flight of stairs, and down a side-corridor, before quoting what Hermione said was Shakespeare to a trio of monks in a portrait that slid aside to reveal a solid wooden door.

"Where does this go?" Hermione asked, momentarily distracted from her quest to acquire the invisibility cloak.

"Just across to the opposite corridor, over by Sinistra's classroom."

"So it's not really a short-cut," Mary observed. They could have taken a left instead of a right at the top of the stairs and gotten to the classroom just as quickly.

"No, but it's fascinating," Hermione said, bouncing once again, "because it has to be in some sort of other-space – there's no way for a passage to actually exist between here and the other side of the floor. It would have to go right through the Main Stair. I wonder how it works…" she trailed off, beaming at the walls around them.

"Well, you now have all the time in the world to figure it out," Lilian teased her. "And it's not even forbidden like the Restricted Section."

"Right, that reminds me – Lizzie?" she gave the dark-haired Slytherin her best puppy-dog eyes. The effect was somewhat ruined by her excitement, but Mary dug the box out of her pocket anyway.

"Please, please be careful with this, Maia. It's a family heirloom, and the only thing I have of my dad's. It's pretty much irreplaceable. I'll let you use it, but only until you find some other way to make yourself invisible. Okay?"

"Deal!"

"Alright." Mary opened the box, allowing her friend to remove the cloak, which she folded neatly and tucked into a pocket.

"I won't let anything happen to it!" Hermione threw herself upon the younger girl in a very frizzy hug. "Thanks, Lizzie! You're the best!"

"Hey, what about me?" Lilian pouted, and received a hug of her own.

"You can both be the best, then. Tied for it."

The Slytherins giggled. Then Mary said, "And Maia?"

"Yes?"

"I – I'm sorry I forgot your birthday. Again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's fine, Lizzie. Besides, I hear there's a party on Sunday."

Mary nodded eagerly. "I'll make sure there's cake," she said with a grin.

"Perfect!"

"So are you going to the Mabon ritual?" Lilian asked, changing the subject as the trio headed toward the door.

Hermione looked momentarily haunted, and then shuffled rather awkwardly. "I kind of already did."

Mary and Lilian exchanged a look. Lilian summed up their thoughts in a single phrase. "Time travel is so weird."

}{-}{-}{-}{-}{

After that, the day passed uneventfully until noon, when the Slytherins and many of the Ravenclaws reported to a room on the seventh floor for the Mabon ritual. Mary had never been there before, but that wasn't entirely surprising. She had never finished her systematic investigation of every room and secret passage in the school, and she hardly had any reason to wander around Gryffindor territory most days.

The room was located across from a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance. Its door was open when she and Lilian arrived, and beyond it, they heard the sound of many excited voices in an enclosed space – rather like the Great Hall before the Welcome Feast. They entered rather hesitantly, and found themselves in what appeared to be a maple grove, the walls and everyone who was already there lost in a maze of red and orange leaves, filled with the scent of autumn and cloud-filtered light. The branches were too thick to see the sky, save for flashes of cloudy grey, but the floor was apparently leaf-carpeted soil.

"What is this place?" Lilian whispered in awe.

"No one knows," Hermione answered, popping out from behind a tree with Ginny Weasley. "One of your prefects suggested it's a portal, and one of mine said that we couldn't have left Hogwarts, but it could be one of those doors that opens to a different place on certain days."

"Hi, guys," Ginny muttered.

Mary and Lilian greeted her pleasantly before Mary asked, "So you think this is some special Mabon doorway that leads to… what? Somewhere in the Senior Woods?"

Hermione shrugged. "Why not?"

"That is the biggest load of rubbish I've ever heard," Draco said, wandering into their little clearing with Pansy and Millicent. "Why wouldn't we come here every year, if it was here every year?"

"Nobody asked you, Draco!" Lilian snapped.

"So you two are on the outs again?" Mary asked. She could hardly keep up with the status of her fellow Slytherins' tenuous alliance.

"The weak-kneed Nancy-boy got cold feet when it came time to actually, you know… do it."

"Do what?" Ginny asked.

"Draco and Lilian were going to kill all of Professor Hagrid's flobberworms," Hermione explained. Mary had been keeping her updated on the situation.

"Why'd you give it up?" Pansy sniggered.

"I'm not a Nancy-boy! I did my part," Draco defended himself. "I just think Moon here ought to have to carry her own weight!"

"Oh, really? Who came up with the plan in the first place? Who researched how to get rid of the bloody things, and how to transfigure the ragweed into lettuce? Huh? You said you would finish the job!"

"I paid for the ragweed and got it delivered, didn't I?"

"Wait – if we get rid of the damn flobberworms, will you two stop talking about them while we're all trying to eat dinner?" Millie asked, with a contemplative expression.

"Yes," both Draco and Lilian answered firmly.

Hermione, Ginny, and Mary sniggered, as Pansy and Millie shared a speculative look at Lilian and Draco.

"Why don't you make Potter's mu-muggleborn do it?" Pansy asked Lilian. Mary glared at her for her quickly-corrected language.

Lilian hummed speculatively. Mary shifted her glare. "Dave Rhees is his own person. If you want his help, ask him for it."

"Call on the Dark," Millie said suddenly, nodding behind them. Dave and Alex were making their way through the trees, followed by Blaise, Daphne, and Theo.

They exchanged cordial greetings, and then Daphne asked, "Do any of you know who's running this show?" The prefects had only put the word around of where the ritual would be held, not who would be the master of ceremonies.

There was a ragged chorus of denials before a pulse of magic swept through the room. A hush followed it, though the excitement in the air increased dramatically, as a pair of voices whispered in concert: "We are Flora and Hestia Carrow, and we will be your mistresses of ceremony for this year's Mabon celebration. Today we will call on the Wise Power in an adaptation of the Rock in the River."

One of the voices dropped out as the other continued. "Each of you must choose a partner, in whose eyes you will see reflected a moment, not known to you, that has affected the course of your life, the Rock that has diverted the course of your life's stream."

The whisper shifted slightly. One of the twins had a slightly rougher voice than the other. "You will see your partner's Rock as well as your own. Do you keep their secret, they must keep yours. Should you break this covenant, the Power will take from you all you have learned since the bond was formed."

"Choose your partners now," the Carrow twins ordered together, but ever-so-slightly out of sync, producing an eerie echo around the wood. "Or leave this gathering, for those who cannot or will not abide, or fear what they might see, are not welcome here."

Lilian had grabbed Mary's hand as soon as the Carrows had mentioned the need for a partner the first time. Alex and Dave were likewise already paired up, and Blaise and Daphne. Millie caught Pansy's eye, who nodded, leaving Draco with Theo, Hermione, or Ginny. None of them looked pleased with the available options, but apparently Ginny was the least unappealing. Hermione was eyeing the redhead speculatively when Draco raised an eyebrow at her and said, "Weasley?"

Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped closer to him. Hermione sighed.

"Guess that leaves you and me, Granger," Theo said. Hermione nodded, slightly reluctantly. Mary smirked. She didn't think Theo and Hermione had ever really spoken before. The six pairs formed a rough circle between the trees, waiting for further instructions. A few younger Slytherins wandered through in different directions, looking for partners, and after a few minutes the Carrows' voices returned.

"Hold hands with your partner, and gaze deeply into their eyes."

Mary did. Lilian's eyes were hazel, a ring of greenish-greyish brown surrounding a brighter, amber shade, and at the moment, far too intense. Her hands grasped Mary's tightly – she could feel the taller girl's excitement humming through her body, eager to learn a secret. Mary was excited too, and a little scared. The Chamber of Secrets was fresh in her mind after receiving the Parsel book, and she wondered if the Deceptive Power might reveal the memories she had lost down there.

"We call upon the Wise Power, the Deceptive Power, on the day of Turning Darkward."

Magic whispered through the air, growing stronger as the voices continued, no longer simply speaking in their ears, but coming from all around them.

"We honor the Power on this, its day, and beg a boon in celebration."

"As we stand at the edge of the valley of the year,"

"As the world turns, and with it, our fates,"

"We would know how our lives have been shaped,"

"By forces unknown to us."

She tried to look away from Lilian's eyes, and found she couldn't. It had begun, then. The darkness at the center of the hazel rings was drawing her in, ever deeper.

"We would grow in experience,"

"And in wisdom."

The magic in the air was calling to Mary's magic. She could feel the power dancing in her very veins.

"We risk betrayal, risk deception."

"We ask clarity, ask understanding."

It was sweet, that magic, like a siren's song, or the smell of crisp leaves, or the feel of a friend's hand on her shoulder. She wanted, more than anything, to do as it bid.

"We offer ourselves to the Power and to each other."

"We offer trust, we offer weakness."

She felt her own magic rise up, without knowing what it was doing or why – and in the next moment, she found she didn't care.

"Show us the secrets that make us who we are."

This last was spoken by both voices, eerily together and not together again. Mary watched, somehow distantly, as Lilian's eyes misted over, felt it as the mist closed behind her focus like a fist, locking her in. The world grew dark, vanished, and then re-formed.

There was no sound.

Mary watched as two children, perhaps seven or eight years old, argued over a broom. Two girls, she realized after a moment – one with brassy, blonde hair, the other a sun-streaked brunette. Lilian and Aerin. Their magic was flaring as they shoved at each other, each trying to wrest the broom from her sister's grip. Neither noticed the tow-headed five-year-old boy running to join them, followed at a distance by an older boy in what had to be new Hogwarts robes. He had a camera around his neck, and was practicing basic spells, trying to levitate twigs and rocks as he walked. A young Prefect Moon.

He looked up, briefly, at the girls, and his mouth moved, as though he was shouting something, but all three of the younger children ignored him.

In that moment, there was a flash of light, as both girls' magic flared at once, pushing each of them back, and throwing their little brother to the ground. They stumbled and fell, too, their attention still on each other, rather than the younger child.

If Mary had had a body, she would have gasped as she realized what was happening. If she had had eyes, she would have looked away in horror.

Sean came running, his face a mask of screaming, as Ministry workers appeared with silent apparitions. An Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, like the one she and Hermione had met over the summer, Mary realized. The girls sat up, confused and stunned by the backlash of their accidental magic. Lilian gloated for half a second over her custody of the broom, until she realized that her little brother had fallen as well. Triumph ran into confusion, then terror, and horror as the little boy didn't move. She dropped the broom as both girls ran to join their older brother, who was already crying and shaking the boy, his hands red with blood from where the child had struck his head on landing.

The ministry wizards and witches tried to pull the three children away from what Mary knew already was just a body, but they clung to him. Their mother arrived and collapsed to the ground beside them, grief-stricken and clearly in shock. She did not resist when a newly-arrived wizard in auror-red flashed a badge at her and led her a short distance away.

Mary watched in equally silent horror as the ministry wizards cast spell after spell at the children and conferred amongst themselves, as a Healer from St. Mungo's came to check on the boy and pronounced him dead – she could tell because that was the moment when Mrs. Moon broke, dissolving into a flood of tears. She pushed her daughters away, and Sean, already the young man who would one day be a Slytherin prefect, pulled them aside, glaring and shouting at his mother.

Mr. Moon arrived then, with another auror, clearly already informed as to what had happened. He gathered his wife into his arms, and Mary tried to read his lips as he spoke to some non-auror official. She failed, miserably. The official nodded eventually, and pulled the girls aside, one at a time, casting some sort of spell on them, after which the guilt on their faces lessened, though sorrow remained. He called Sean over last, and when the boy resisted, at a small shake of his father's head, the ministry man let him go.

He took a shuddering breath and wrapped an arm around each of the girls, leading them back to the house as their parents cried over the now-shrouded body of their youngest son.

The memory? Moment? Lasted only half a second longer, a wizard's photo of a family tragedy, with one child dead, two others accidental murderers, rejected by their parents, and the last siding with his sisters, before the non-space filled with mist. Mary, horrified, wished she had eyes to cry with, or arms to pull her friend close. But she didn't: she was still trapped behind Lilian's eyes, only halfway through this ritual.

The mist cleared, and the world had changed. It was not the Chamber of Secrets. It was, in fact, a rather cozy living room. It reminded her of Professor McGonagall's private parlor, broken-in and well-loved.

A man with long, wavy, black hair and a sharp goatee knelt before a red-haired, green-eyed woman. Sirius Black, Mary realized after a moment, and her mother, Lily Evans – Potter, by then? Probably, she decided. A second man with messy black hair and large, round glasses was watching the tableau, along with a nervous-looking man with a rather pointed, rodent-like face. Her father, and Peter Pettigrew. She recognized her parents from the very first wizard's photo she had ever been given, and Black and Pettigrew from the papers. Their faces had been ubiquitous over the past two months, though the murderer didn't look so much like his mug shot, here.

Lily, no older than Catherine, was casting some sort of spell on Black. The wandwork was like no charm or curse Mary had ever seen, twitching and jumping like Dan Granger's pencil as he pretended to conduct the orchestra behind his classical records. A misty glow, swirling with reds and blues so deep they were almost black rose off of the kneeling man, coalescing a few feet from his body. He froze, staring dead-eyed in front of himself. Darkness rose to the surface of the misty ball, floating off it and vanishing, before she directed the ball back to Black's body with long, slow wand movements.

The man gasped, suddenly, and, no longer frozen in his penitent's pose, fell to his hands and knees before opening his eyes and sitting back again. He looked around briefly with an expression of wonder before fixing his eyes on James. Lily smiled softly as her husband pulled the traitor to his feet and hugged him tightly.

Then Pettigrew said something, and the others all looked at him. He exchanged a few words with Black before nodding determinedly. Lily laughed, obviously explaining something. James and Black nodded with expressions of varying grimness. Black asked something, and Lily answered with another nod. Mary felt like screaming for the lack of sound. They and James exchanged a few more words, and then everyone followed Lily out of the room, down a flight of stairs into what might kindly be called an unfinished basement. Mary's perception shifted with them.

The new room was lit only by the flickering candles in the hands of the four young adults. Pettigrew looked absolutely terrified as the other three formed a triangle around him. Black cast several spells, beams of light drawn between her parents and himself at head and heart. Mary burned with fury to think that someone so close to her parents could have betrayed them. Their mouths moved as one, and Lily traced an intricate pattern with her wand, again and again, trailing silver light to form a net of some sort, or perhaps a cage, drawing darkness in and holding it close.

Then, suddenly, the cage, a ball of filigree light, surrounding an orb of tight-pressed darkness, flashed, becoming an opaque, glowing ball, which moved slowly toward Pettigrew's heart, sinking into him. His eyes glowed briefly white as his friends (and the traitor) chanted around him. Then it was, apparently, over. The wizard's eyes stopped glowing, and the bonds between the three spell-casters faded. Lily said something – Mary had no idea what – and Pettigrew answered, before the white mist obscured the vision again, completely.

She came back to herself gasping, not unlike Black in the first half of the second vision, incredibly frustrated by the fact that she had no idea what she had seen. She was still clinging to Lilian's hands, and there were tears running freely down the other girl's cheeks. At the sight of her friend's grief, Mary realized how incredibly selfish she was being. Whatever the vision had meant, it was – had to be – nothing, compared to knowing that you were in some way responsible for your brother's death. She pulled the taller girl close, and whispered it's okay, over and over as hot tears soaked her collar.

The others around them did not seem to be much better off. Draco and Ginny had let go of each other's hands, and were looking at each other with a sort of wary guardedness, as though each was waiting for the other to strike first. Hermione and Theo were holding hands tightly, as though frozen, and shooting nervous glances at each other and the rest of them. Alex and Dave could not meet each other's gaze. Each boy had his arms wrapped tightly around himself, and Mary saw tears at the corner of Alex's eyes. Pansy and Millie had sat down, leaning against each other, but not looking at each other. Blaise was wrapped around Daphne like a cloak, with a look of rage threatening anyone who might say a word against his indecorous behavior. She patted his arm around her neck with one hand, and stroked his hair with the other, her face absolutely blank, as though she was still lost to whatever she had seen.

The magic was gone, or at least no longer calling to Mary like sweetness and light.

"We offer our thanks to the Power," the rough-voiced Carrow twin whispered, her voice coming as though from the trees themselves.

"We take from this gathering the knowledge offered,"

"We leave having gained experience, with new perspectives."

"Reflect this day, on the ways in which experience shapes us all,"

"And the ways in which we are changed for having knowledge now that we didn't have before."

"May the Power walk beside you as you grow and change,"

"As you age and shape yourselves, and are shaped by the world and the people around you."

"Remember, the bond is forged,"

"Keep the secrets that are not yours to share,"

"And go with grace, as the world turns to darkness."

"Blessings of the dark!"

Mary muttered the now familiar refrain for both Lilian and herself. As she helped the older girl make her way out of the maple grove to find her brother – all she would say was, "I need to talk to Sean," – she couldn't help but feel that it had been a most appropriate ritual for the Deceptive Power: she felt bitter and hurt, as though she had been cheated, and didn't exactly know how.

New lesson, she reflected grimly. Magic is amazing and wondrous and fantastic, but it is also horrible and cruel and heartless.

She felt old.

[The vision Mary saw is a soundless, context free version of the story depicted in 'Changing of the Guardian.' If you're curious about exactly what happened back in 1981, you can find it here: s/11994237/1/The-Changing-of-the-Guardian]