Okay, so I'm having my exams next week, and I probably won't be writing, so here's the deal: I'll let you guys review, and by next chapter, I'll choose the person who gets to request tht major change. And, as a bonus, if I have 60 reviews or so by the time I finish my exams, then I'll write a 4000+ word chapter, just for you!

"Is not." Hermione demanded.

"Is too." Ron said. "I've mixed doxy eggs with bowtruckle feet a couple times, and the solution did not explode."

"It melted your cauldron, didn't it?" Hermione quipped. They were trying to solve a difficult potions essay about wheter or not potions made out of atanomical pieces of magical creatures were stronger than plant-influenced potions.

"But when you mixed Python herbs with Xevia roots, your cauldron turned pink."

"That's not necessarily a sign of the potion being stronger!" Hermione had no idea why Ron was arguing with her about this. Usually, he would just listen to her because she was the one who read the books quite often, but for the first time, he was willing to argue with her, which wasn't something that happened everyday."

"Alright, alright. You're hopeless, Mi." Ron said, groaning. Hopeless? Was Ron trying to achieve something by arguing with her?

She huffed. She hated how Ron was never straight-forward, but then, that was what made him Ron. Harry, meanwhile, was listening to Hermione and taking down notes.

"You should stop worrying about him, you know. He won't like that." she said, in a matter-of-factly tone.

"More like it's Umbridge I'm worried about. Have you heard? She's checking in owl-letters and floo-chats." Harry said.

Hermione was aware of what had happened back at Harry's detention. Nico didn't look fazed by it though. Hermione's fellow Gryffindor had only talked to her briefly the past few weeks. Usually to borrow a quill, or for help on an assignment if he really needed it. Other than that, he'd been pretty shut-out from the world.

"We'll find a way to get around that soon enough. " Hermione replied, determined.

Vanessa Starling felt almost happy, and for that, she hated herself. Everything about her new life was so perfect that it intimidated her. She'd made friends with quite a lot of girls, and became Madame Pomfrey's assistant in her third day. She had always befriended Nico, who was really nice. Even Professor Snape said she was talented, and she had come to know he was hard to impress. But overall, nothing cheered her up, as soon as she remembered this was the school she was going to betray. These were the friends who were going to hate her soon. Funny. Maybe the hat was right, after all, placing her in Hufflepuff.

Yet she didn't like yet. She would have loved to study here, if not for her clearly un-optional situation. She even had a crush. He was tall, with dark hair, and sat with her in Transfiguration last Tuesday. His name was Damien Taylor. He was the nicest person to her so far, and didn't mind helping her when she couldn't transfigure her ink pot into a tissue-case. Damien was a Ravenclaw, so she didn't get to see him much, but when she did, she was usually so happy that she almost forgot she was being ruthlessly used. Almost.

She was mulling what the sorting hat had told her, over and over. Vanessa knew Nico well enough now. He often talked to her a little every lunch, and sometimes sometimes watched her work in the infirmary. When she had point-blank told him that he looked used to this, he'd smiled at her and told her he was. Vanessa liked Nico, but she couldn't see how he could help her. If only someone could help her! If she could tell anyone about the Persopheus she was forced to take, but she couldn't. Every time the thought of revealing something they didn't want her to crossed her mind, she could choke, and breathing would become a challenge all of a second.

For that reason, she was here, thinking very hard on how to alert everyone. The hat did say she had Ravenclaw brains, after all. But it was absolutely right about her loyalty. Vanessa was scared. She didn't want this. In truth, all she wanted was to be back at home, with her family and old friends. But she would stop them, even if she was alone, even if no one would help her. Even if it meant she had to pay the price. Funny. She supposed she may have been able to make it to Gryffindor as well.

Vanessa lagged behind the rest of her friends. She stopped in front of Professor Flitwick, who gave her a questioning smile.

"Professor," she began to say. Her face was beaded with sweat. They had found out. They knew what she was up to. But they would kill her yet, would they? They needed her, despite the fact that it completely disgusted her, it was true.

"May I have a signed letter to the Restricted Section, please? I need it for my Potions essay, but we don't have Potions until Friday, so I can't ask Professor Snape." She felt herself paling. Her head had began to pound all of a sudden, and she couldn't stop it.

Professor Flitwick looked reluctant, the Ravenclaw that he was. "Might I ask which books you'd like to look at?"

Vanessa, now feeling like she would faint, answered him. "I'd like to get a look at Barley's Billion Brews and Modern Potions and How To Use Them." She said, truthfully.

Professor Flitwick smiled, at her. He conjured piece of parchment and a quill, and signed down her requests.

OK-I-OFICALLY-GIVE-UP-ON-BREAK-LINES-BUT-I-HAVE-TO-DO-THEM-ANYWAY-UGH-LORD-HELP-ME.

Nico had quickly learned that Hermione Granger spent most of her time in the library. He himself was forced to immerse himself there, but not because he liked it. Maybe he would have if his dyslexia wasn't killing him. He had to learn a complicated spell that translated English into Latin, and even then, he couldn't read it perfectly. Ancient Greek may have worked better, since Nico was a greek, but he figured Latin would have to do.

Hermione would always spot him there, reading a book about Magical Creatures, or Monster Through the Ages. He was, of course, only reading because him friends needed it. He'd gotten the letter from camp days ago. It was ridiculously long, too. Apparently, everyone took turns scribbling whatever they wanted to. Percy asked Nico to mail him blue wizard-candies. Travis and Connor requested toilet-seats from Hogwarts. Leo was mid-sentence writing what he wanted when apparently Hazel smacked him.

The more serious parts told Nico about the Lares, and more about the monster the girls were attacked by.

So naturally, when Nico was reading another one of those 500-ton books in the library the last thing he expected was to have a voice speak in his head.

You shouldn't read that, you know? Lockhart's a fraud.

Nico jumped. He scanned his surroundings, but he couldn't see anyone other than a few girls and the Librarian.

I'm here, silly.

Nico realized, startled, that the voice was in his mind. Some one was talking to him telepathically.

Yes, Nico. That someone's me. Just wanted to check on your quest progress.

Nico tried speaking back. Wait...Lady Hecate?

At your service.

He blinked once. Then twice. No offense Lady Hecate, but why are you checking in now?

A pause. There's something else going on here, Nico. I can't tell you. Trust me, I want to, but Apollo won't let me. He's being a real hypocrite nowadays, telling me it's his job in the prophetic realm and that I should do mine. As if!

Prophetic?

Nico could almost sense Hecate smiling.

Oops. I probably shouldn't have mentioned. Nor should I mention that something very interesting concerning a Persopheous potion.

You just did. Nico thought to her, feeling amused.

Oh did I? Well, just forget I told you anything, will you? But for now, put down that book, Nico. I'd suggest Hylla Yew's A Thousand Types of Lycanthropy.

Nico silently agreed. In fact, the author seemed to be speaking mostly to himself. But now, there was one question: why was Hecate really here? There was always a greater reason behind divine visits.

Very considerate of you, Hecate approved.

Nico frowned. I know we're doing this telepathy thing, but do you mind stayig out of my thought?

Whatever you say, Nico. But I'm done for now. Taylor's having a concert in New Orleans! She needs a magical touch there.

Then simply, as soon as she had entered Nico's mind, she left it. Nico put the book down, willing to get what Hecate recommended, but he was joined by a young brunette: It was Briana.

"Hey," Briana said, but she wasn't really paying attention to him. She was looking at a tall fifth-year Nico couldn't recognize. He was surfing through books in a Ravenclaw-y manner.

The look on Briana's face was one he clearly recognized after an year of watching Hazel look at Frank.

Nico smirked. Briana reminded him so much of Hazel. Noticing the look on his face Briana quickly broke her gaze, and then put down her book on the table.

"Nico?" Briana asked, looking pale. Nico wondered if she was ill. The way she looked, it was as if she ran a marathon.

"Do you happen to know anything about-" I that brief second, her eyes widened. Her mouth hung open, and suddenly, her gray eyes seemed to darken.

"Briana?" Nico asked, worried.

She coughed, then fell to the floor, clutching her throat.

"Briana!" Nico ran to her aid, and helped her up. Briana looked like she was about to throw up. Suddenly, ever pair of eyes in the library was on them, but Nico couldn't care less.

"You need to go to the infirmary," he told her firmly. Will would have nodded in approval, Nico knew. He'd taught him that the sooner the patient gets medical attention, the faster their cure would be.

Briana scurried away from him with now-gained power. "No! Please. I'm okay. I can go there myself. Can you-can you-" Briana turned behind the shelves before Nico could stop her, covering her mouth. He knew quite well that she was throwing up.

Nico started to move towards her, but she poked her head around the shelves and said one thing that made him stop in his tracks in shock, before she passed out;

"I'll be fine. Can you put that Potion book back in the Restricted-restricted section?"

HAHAHAHA! Cliffie! Obviously, we know why Vanessa wanted him to get that book, huh? Guesssssss!