Well, I had barely a conversation as a plan for this chapter, so, apologies if it's a little messy. I think it's less of a filler chapter and has an actual purpose and place in the story now.

Also, a round of applause for Lawrence Cartwright, just crushing some reviews – seriously, if it wasn't for that, forcing me to re-read my own story to fully understand the reviews, I doubt I'd be able to churn this one out as quickly, so, thank you, bud!

12th March 2009

The Great Hall, Ground Floor

Sunlight bled through the stained glass behind the teachers' table. The tall, arched scarlet and amber panes that reached up high into the sky of clouds that lingered above the floating candles. There was a still a nip to the air, so Alessia still wore her thick, grey house jumper over her shirt, her scarlet prefects badge proudly emblazed upon her chest. The same was said for Seth and Faith Galloway too, both wearing a sapphire and gold badge respectively. The other boy in their troupe, Dorian, had no prefects badge, though he wore his quidditch captain's badge just as happily.

As students passed them by, heading to sit with friends and begin their meals of eggs and toast, sausage and bacon, coffee and tea. The long tables were crowded with students – so much so that Faith kept having to inch closer to Dorian, careful that someone would sit close enough to overhear them…

"A dragon?" Alessia asked, eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of such an… well, not quite outlandish, but very close.

"Yes," Faith replied.

"Like, an actual dragon?"

"You know, big thing – wings, scales…" Dorian said before sipping his coffee.

"Do you know what type?" Alessia asked.

"The fire-breathing one?"

"Maybe you wandered too close to it's nest," Seth thought aloud, "dragons can be very territorial. But one hasn't been seen in Hogwarts since… well, like, the forties."

"Nineties," Alessia corrected him, "in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Do you think it could've been a Hebridean Black?"

"A what?" Dorian blinked.

"It's a breed of dragon – native to this area, according to Hagrid…" Alessia paused as a Slytherin student passed behind her. "Was it's tail tipped with, like, an arrow-shaped spike?"

Dorian turned to Faith, almost amazed, before looking back to Alessia. "It was big and it had wings," he said. "Look, we were a little preoccupied what with trying not to die…"

"I think it was a Hebridean Black," Faith said, her grey eyes planted steadfast upon her brother, who eyed her doubtfully, if only for a moment. "It had dark scales, and it was certainly big enough…"

"You're sure?" Seth asked her.

"Dorian and I had to clean that skeleton in Kenton's classroom for detention. I know how big that thing is first-hand."

Seth eventually nodded. "Okay."

There was a moment's pause before Alessia began to speak. "Well… I guess there's a Hebridean Black in the forest…"

"What were you even doing out there ?" Seth asked Faith.

"Flying."

"In the Forbidden Forest?"

"We got lost on our way to Iceland," Faith said with a slight smile. Dorian gave a large grin and chuckled into his teacup.

"What?" Seth frowned before turning to Dorian. "If you're going to hang out with my sister, you can't take her to-"

"Oh, take a breath, Seth," Dorian groaned in response.

"This isn't a detention we're talking about, she could've died!"

"You both could've," Alessia chimed in.

Dorian licked his lips for a moment before clearing his throat and pasting on a smile. "Puh-lease. The only time I've actually been in danger is when this one," Dorian nudged Faith's elbow, "was on the pitch with that bat of hers…"

"Maybe you could take this seriously for a change?" Seth's words were curt and crisp – as if he was trying not to raise his voice. While Dorian remained quiet, he put on a smile and rested his face on his hand, staring all sweet-eyed over at Seth. "Stop it."

"What?"

"Looking at me."

"I'm not." Dorian's smile grew as his dark eyes twinkled, remaining fixed on Seth.

"You're weird," Seth murmured as he turned back to Faith.

"I'm not even looking at you!"

"Dorian, stop it," Faith said quietly, "you're annoying him."

"I know," Dorian replied in a stage-whisper.

"Anyway," Alessia said loudly, looking over to Seth, who cleared his throat before speaking.

"I think it's safe to say this isn't connected to… the homework… you know?"

"No-" There was a thump and Dorian reached down, pulling his knee up to his chest. "What the hell, Ales, I was agreeing with him!"

"It's hard to tell sometimes," Alessia shrugged.

Seth supressed a smile and continued on. "But we shouldn't rule anything out. We need an open mind, especially for this next part."

"What next part?" Faith asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the table.

"This person is after relics of the Founders, right?"

"Yeah?"

"And we know the diadem is at Hogwarts?"
"Uh-huh…" Faith frowned, trying to pre-empt Seth's next words.

"Well, you followed Fern up to the seventh floor and found a… disappearing door."

"You think that's where the diadem is?"

"I think it's connected," Seth said, "I mean, Godwinson or whatever their real name is, they're trying to get all the relics. We know McGonagall has the diadem safe here, so, they must have always planned to come here and get it. Maybe Fern's plan was to pose as the Transfiguration teacher and get the diadem from… behind that door."

"So… we need to get into that room?" Alessia asked.

"I think we need to find out what it is first," Faith suggested.

"Probably a passageway," Seth said. "I've heard there's a couple that actually lead outside of the castle grounds-"

"Six," Dorian corrected him, as he leant across to the fruit bowl.

"We need to keep tabs on when Fern goes to that floor as well.

"And also see if Kenton goes there?" Alessia asked.

"Kenton, still?" Faith asked.

"Well, he showed up at the right time. Maybe he's here to try and steal the diadem…" Alessia glanced from Faith to Seth.

"Look, I'd love for Kenton to spend a good few decades in Azkaban," Dorian admitted as he began peeling a mandarin, "but being a massive prick isn't actually a crime. I mean… what's he actually done to suggest he's involved?"

"Remember, we act as though he's involved and even if he isn't we've not lost anything," Seth informed them. "In fact, it's probably better we assume everyone except ourselves is involved…"

"That's called paranoia, Seth," Alessia half-laughed, resting her hand on his. The corner of his lip pulled up as Alessia's caramel-coloured hand squeezed around his own, paler than anything.

"Wanna go throw up somewhere?" Dorian asked Faith, who grinned and picked up her bag.

"See you guys after class?" Faith asked. Seth and Alessia smiled and nodded, but, as Seth's grey eyes locked upon Alessia's hazel, and she leant in to kiss him, something hit his chest. He looked down to see the completely peeled mandarin rolling down his grey jumper and onto his lap. He looked up to see Dorian was already gone, sauntering by Faith's side.

Library, Library Corridor, Training Grounds Tower, First Floor

The large, dimly-lit room was filled with students of all ages, each engrossed in their studies. Rows upon rows of bookshelves lined the walls, reaching high up towards the ornate ceiling, their volumes carefully organized by subject and author.

The sound of rustling pages and whispered conversations filled the air, punctuated by the occasional creak of a wooden chair or the scratch of a quill on parchment. The smell of old books and parchment hung heavily in the air, providing a cozy and comforting atmosphere for those seeking refuge from the bustling halls outside.

Despite the busy nature of the library, there was a sense of order and calmness that pervaded the room. The librarians, dressed in their crisp, black robes, moved silently among the shelves, assisting students in their search for the perfect tome.

The soft glow of the lamps mounted on the walls provided ample light, illuminating the pages of the ancient texts and casting a warm glow throughout the room.

Seth had bundled up his robes and put them in his bag after Charms. He was given a free period also, since he was still a few weeks away from being old enough to learn to apparate. He walked down the aisles of books of dragonology, where Alessia was pouring over different tomes and accounts of the Hebridean Black.

"Anything?" Seth asked quietly, resting a hand on the back of her chair. Alessia glanced up at him before wrapping her arm around his waist and resting her head of chestnut blonde corkscrew curls against him.

"The last Hebridean Black sighting was in the seventies, and the last encounter was, like, a century ago."

"Last recorded encounter," Seth corrected her. "So, it's unusual?"

"Very unusual…" Alessia looked up at him. "Do you reckon it's connected?"

"I can't see how it could be, but…" Seth shrugged. "I really hope it isn't." He pulled over a chair with his leg and sat down next to Alessia. "We need to find that diadem."

"Hence being in the library," Alessia nodded.

"Did your mum leave you… any other letters? A journal or something?"

"Who actually keeps a journal?" Alessia scoffed.

"People," Seth shrugged before quickly moving away from that subject, "but what about any other clues? I mean, she had the diadem at one point."

"Sorry, Seth, I know about as much as you do…"

Seth nodded. "I guess we need to find that door on the seventh floor."

"Yeah… there must be a book somewhere around here that mentions it…"

"Maybe ask Madam Pince?" Alessia suggested.

"I'd sooner face the dragon…" Seth murmured under his breath as he stood up. Alessia gave a slight smile and leant forwards to return to her reading. Seth rested his bag on the chair beside her and set off towards the entrance of the library, where Madam Pince sat at her desk, turning the page of a book with strange, Norse symbols carved into the wooden case.

She was a thin, irritable woman wrapped up in a black cardigan and a bun of grey hair. A pair of half-moon glasses pinched her sharp, hooked nose, which lingered inches away from the tome.

"Afternoon, Madam Pince."

The woman looked up, revealing her shrivelled face; sunken cheeks and parchment-like skin. Seth always saw as something of an underfed vulture. "Galloway," she said, her voice shrill and sharp like a whistle.

"I was wondering if you could help me, I'm looking for a book on Hogwarts." Seth began, only for Madam Pince to look back down at her text.

"Hogwarts: A History by Bathilda Bagshot."

"Yes, well, I've read that, but it's not exactly the history I'm interested in…"

"Then what is, Galloway?" Madam Pince looked up from her book, clearly aggravated at being interrupted.

"Something on… the building of the castle?" He asked – telling her he was looking for secret rooms and disappearing doors would probably result in him being banished from the library.

"Hogwarts: An Architectural History by Phineas Fletcher."

"Great, where might I find that?"

"In 'F' in the History section," Madam Pince half-hissed at him. Seth decided not to press her further and instead nodded his thanks and returned to Alessia, who rested her cheek on one hand as she idly turned the page. Seth sat down next to her and let out a long breath.

"How did it go?" Alessia asked.

"Hogwarts: An Architectural History by Phineas Fletcher," Seth recited to her. "Might be worth reading?"

Alessia shrugged. "If you say so…"

Grand Staircase, Ground Floor

"Oh, no, not you again!"

On the ground floor of the Grand Staircase, tucked away in the corner behind the other stairs and away from prying eyes, Dorian Adler and Faith Galloway stood before a large portrait of a bearded man in fine sixteenth-century garb.

Faith crossed her arms as the portrait of George von Rheticus scoffed and shook his head, the gold star on his hat swinging as he did so. Faith turned from the old astronomer to Dorian, who stood there, rolling up his sleeves.

"Scurrilous scoundrel," Dorian repeated himself.

"No, no, and no!" The portrait of George replied, adamant and defiant. "I do not allow rapscallions within my passage!"

"What're you talking about?" Dorian asked.

"I've heard of your doings, ne'er-do-well. Hexing the pupils – shame on you!"

"What hexing?" Dorian asked, utterly confused.

"Pumpkin-pranking and mandrake-mischief, juvenile-jinxing and uncourtly-consorting!" The portrait declared. Dorian folded out his bottom lip and shook his head, maintaining his ignorance.

"You were right, Ads, he does know you," Faith said, her lip curling.

"Listen, I've said the password, he has to-"

"Afternoon, Mr. von Rheticus," Faith cut off Dorian and smiled at the portrait, speaking in a clear Irish lilt, "Are you well?"

"I shall be soon," the portrait eyed Dorian cautiously.

"I'm Faith Galloway. I'm from House Hufflepuff – our common room is in the basement, next to the kitchens-"

"I'm well-aware of where your common room is, Miss Galloway."

"My astronomy O.W.L's are coming up – I'd hate to fall behind in class simply because it took too long to get to class."

The portrait of George ran a finger over the gold star on his hat. "You are a fellow astronomer?"

"For this year, at least. Your passageway runs to the seventh floor, correct?" Faith asked. George nodded. "It would mean a lot to me if you would allow us to use it. I'm a prefect, you see – there'd be no… misbehaving," Faith promised.

"This one has already had a dalliance within poor Percival Pratt's passageway," The portrait said, glaring at Dorian, who stifled a chuckle. "Why should I give you the benefit of the doubt when you so clearly consort with him, as well?"

"Because I'm asking?" Faith was earnest. "And there's no plans for 'dalliances', believe you, me."

George von Rheticus' portrait narrowed his eyes for a moment before the portrait swung open, and, with a ever-so-slightly smug glance to Dorian, the pair climbed inside and began climbing the long, spiralling staircase.

"I could've got it open eventually," Dorian said.

"Sure, you could," Faith said as she began climbing the staircase ahead of him. "So, how many 'dalliances' have you had in these passageways?"

"I don't kiss and tell," Dorian replied.

"Oh, yeah, very honourable."

"Chivalry is a-must in Gryffindor-"

"Chivalry is basically just code of conduct in war," Faith corrected him as she climbed up ahead. Dorian was close behind her.

"Noted."

"This goes to where on the seventh floor?"

"Near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy," Dorian replied, "pretty much where we last saw Fern skulking."

"The one with the trolls doing ballet?"

"That's the one."

The pair of them climbed up the final few steps and came to a long corridor that stretched out, dimly lit by flaming braziers that hung by bronze chains from the arched stone ceiling. Their footsteps echoed back down the staircase, and Faith came to another gold-framed portrait at the end, which had a painting of a star-studded night sky.

"What now?" Faith asked.

"Now, we draw a star," Dorian said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand.

"Maybe we should use my wand…" Faith said, glancing down at it cautiously.

"My wand works fine," Dorian scoffed as he began to squeeze on by Faith. It was a tense moment – not that ominous tenseness of danger or fear, but Faith's heart hammered in her throat as Dorian's lithe frame was pressed against her. The cold stone on her neck only made the skin on his neck warmer. He smelled good as well.

Though his dark eyes remained on the portrait as he began to draw lines from star-to-star, forming a constellation, Faith found herself slightly smiling. She blinked hard – it was just him being part-Veela. She had to get a grip on herself…

"That look right to you?" Dorian asked as he turned back to look down at her. The low firelight, illuminating his platinum, tousled hair. The night sky, his dark eyes, his sculpted cheeks, the few inches that separated them…

Faith pressed her lips against his – it were as though something crackled between them. Her chest felt like it was about to explode as her hands cradled the sides of his head, and he held her waist close. There were no thoughts, no internal monologue, just the realization that it felt good to kiss someone.

Eventually, Faith pulled back, accidentally hitting her head on the stone wall behind her.

"You okay?" Dorian asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine…" Faith craned her neck onto his shoulder so she could rub the back of her head for a moment before straightening up. "That's, erm…"

"Yup."

There was a long pause. Faith hadn't done anything like this in well over a year. "George is going to be really angry…"

"Huh?" Dorian frowned.

"No, not- George von Rheticus."

"Who? Oh…" Dorian nodded. "Right…"

"We should probably just…" Faith nodded to the portrait of stars as she looked down at her black oxford shoes. Dorian nodded and pushed on the portrait. Faith followed him out onto the seventh floor. As she watched him close the portrait behind them, she found herself wondering if they were going to leave their kiss inside that passageway.

Well, that's this chapter down! This story is quickly becoming way too long, so I need to trim and combine some other chapters in future, because no way is this gonna be a 70+ chapter story.

Anyway, I'll see you guys for the next chapter! Looking forward to those reviews (I see you, BlueJay019, you're a cool person).

R.