It's been over a month since I opened my Fourth Year document on my computer! I'm internally slapping myself, don't worry. But here's another chapter!

"Ten more hours until 2044," Brooklyn said, pushing her rook towards my bishop and smoothly capturing it. I groaned. I hadn't played wizard's chess in ages, and it was clear that Brooklyn was going to win. I'll make this yet another of my new year's resolutions: practice chess!

"We're going to lose," groaned my king.

"Don't talk that way," argued my queen. "Aly, send that pawn up one space."

I did so and grumbled when Brooklyn's only bishop- I had managed to capture one early on in the game- took it, then realized that left me open for my queen to take the bishop. Grinning, I reached out my hand to move my queen forward.

"Not me, you dolt," she screeched at me. "Use him!" She gestured to a knight, who (once he had moved) could easily capture Brooklyn's rook when the queen could not without endangering herself.

I sighed and moved the knight, claiming Brooklyn's last bishop and polishing the ivory game piece on the sleeve of my robe. It snapped at me, and I dropped it onto the table, where (luckily) it didn't break.

"Hey! That wasn't very nice," chastised Brooklyn's other bishop.

"Sorry," I mumbled. I'd just been so frazzled lately. First I'd spent all of Monday and Tuesday creating a gigantic shrine in the fifth-floor corridor for Headmaster Damien (I now avoided said corridor at all costs). Then, Tuesday night, Headmaster Damien had discovered Nick's EAT DUNG, DAMIEN and I'd had to stay up all night cleaning it up and fixing the wall (not like I would've gotten much sleep anyway, but still). Finally, yesterday- Wednesday- he'd forced me to do an impromptu "Gryffindor commons check" with Eve-Charlotte, Sara, and Finley. It was horrible being near the seventh-year Slytherin. Those blue eyes cast me alternating loving glances, like a groom looking at his bride, and glares of loathing. Each time, I winced. If you don't figure out how to take down that border shield and get an owl to the ministry and kill Damien, you could very well end up Finley Denton's bride.

At the thought, I had gagged. Eve-Charlotte had glanced over at me as she'd rifled through a terrified-looking first-year's bag. "Something wrong, Aly?"

"Just feeling a bit ill," I'd mumbled, scanning the bookshelves for 'rebel propaganda' (whatever that was).

"Go to the hospital wing," she had ordered.

So I'd ended up in the hospital wing (Sara had walked me there and explained I was looking sick to Madam Pomfrey, so I couldn't just go back to the Ravenclaw common room). Sara had left and Madam Pomfrey had ducked into the back room to get some kind of medicinal potion, and I'd noticed a bed at the back of the room with a red curtain drawn around it.

I'd approached the bed and begun to pull back the curtain, and I had just had time to see slender, pale feet with green-and-purple rashes between the toes before Madam Pomfrey had reappeared and dragged me away, her face maroon. "Get away from there!" she'd screeched, her normally calm demeanor gone. She was acting more like the short-tempered, vulture-like Madam Pince- the librarian- than herself. "Do you want to get dragon pox?"

I had gulped and recoiled, staring at the red curtain. "Dragon pox?"

"Yes. It's not too bad of a case, but if you're ill already, you're too vulnerable to be so close to her. Drink this," she'd ordered, shoving a small vial full of dark, syrupy red liquid sloshing around inside into my hands. As I'd thrown the potion into the back of my throat- it tasted like bitter molasses- Madam Pomfrey had sighed, becoming calmer. "I know it's difficult without her around, but I think I've nearly got her cured. You can tell your friends that."

Her? The feet had been slight, it was true, but Madam Pomfrey had implied that I knew and cared for the girl. But the only person I could think of who was missing- not confirmed dead, just missing- was Eli Lupin.

Weird, I thought, pushing the scene from my mind for the millionth time since the afternoon before. Brooklyn, without my noticing, had gotten around my barricade of pawns and was dangerously close to my king. I sighed and took her knight.

That evening, at dinner, I could barely pick at my pea-and-potato pie. It was the last day of 2043- wasn't I supposed to be excited? Why couldn't I seem to muster up any enthusiasm?

I was so focused on that, and the New Year's party that Nick and Nathan had organized for that night in the Room of Requirement, and the feet of the mystery girl from the day before, that I didn't even notice at first when the Great Hall fell silent. Or why it had hushed. But when I was paying attention, it was difficult not to notice.

"Damien," yelled out Vincent Winters. He had stood up, not on the floor, not on the bench, but on the table. Lyndsay's brother was (for once) tall, and he stood proudly, like he knew it. His shaggy caramel hair was tucked out of his dark eyes, which glittered like black stones set into his sockets. In that moment, Vincent Winters was a revolutionary- and I had never feared more for anyone's life.

"Commander Damien," corrected Finley, almost lazily, from just down the table.

"If you wanted to see him, you should have made an appointment," Eve-Charlotte called out.

I glanced behind me. Headmaster Damien was lounging in his chair, a golden goblet inlaid with rubies as red as blood dangling from his hand. He didn't appear to be listening at first glance, but I knew he was.

"Damien," shouted Vince, earning his share of concerned glances (Lanie), angry glares (my fellow Damien-followers), and confused looks (just about everyone else). "There are only hours until the new year, and we- the students of Hogwarts- are taking a stand for two thousand and forty-four!"

A few of the Gryffindors behind him- I spotted Liana (although the rest of Lea's group was suspiciously absent), as well as Lisa Ryall and Ash Fleetwood (Nellie's older brother)- started to rhythmically pound on the table.

A fifth-year girl with skin and hair as black as night started up a chant. "New year, new Head! New year, new Head!"

Vincent continued to shout over the chaos. "We refuse to be held prisoner here! We demand to set free!"

The little second-year boy next to the girl leading the chant stood on the bench and waved his arms wildly, encouraging everyone to join in on the chant. I watched his white-blond hair shake with the effort, and suddenly I felt the dread overcome me. I jerked suddenly, going to stand up, but Peggy grabbed my arm and held me down. "He's got it covered," she whispered in my ear. "He doesn't need our help."

For a second I thought she was talking about Vince. Of course, she wasn't.

"We demand for you to perform the counter-spell to the border curse you performed," Vince was continuing loudly. "And we will not tolerate- we will not attend Hogwarts until you are out of the Headmaster's office and in prison for the murders you have committed!"

"Oh, ho," chuckled Headmaster Damien softly from behind me. "You will not tolerate? You will not attend?" His voice grew sharp, cutting. "You demand?"

"We do," announced Vincent. He was riding high on his own fiery spirit, and I knew in my heart that it was only a matter of time before the flames consumed him.

"Young man," Headmaster Damien said, his voice dangerously low, "I do not think you are in a position to demand anything."

"And yet we do anyway!" Vince roared, standing strong on the Gryffindor table, his left foot frighteningly close to a dish of Yorkshire pudding. He enunciated each word of his next sentence like they were each a full sentence, screaming them at Headmaster Damien, firing them off like curses in a duel. "We will not be your perfect society! We refuse to accept you as-"

"Shut up!" screamed the headmaster.

A blast of green light flew over my head and exploded on Vincent's chest.

There was a bright explosion, almost neon green, and I was momentarily blinded. But I could see well enough to watch Vince Winters fall to the ground, dead in an instant.

"An Unforgivable Curse?" I whispered in horror.

"Isn't it amazing?" Peggy murmured back.

Headmaster Damien fired another Killing Curse as I sat rooted to my chair, aghast. Then he fired another, and another. Lisa. Liana. The fifth-year who'd started the chant, and the tiny, pale second-year who had tried so valiantly to rouse the hall to fight. Green light struck them all down.

It was when the second-year dropped to the floor that I snapped. I pushed back my chair, stood (Peggy attempted in vain to grab my arm once more), turned, and leaped over the high table. For a second, I was flying, and Headmaster Damien only had time to fire off one last curse- it just barely missed hitting me, and I think my heart skipped a beat, but I didn't have time to see where it landed or who it hit. I slammed onto the table, wobbling for a second but not falling off, my right foot squishing into a platter of roasted potatoes. Knocking the blackthorn twig from his hand and catching it in my left palm, I ordered, "Stop!"

For one moment I was sure he would simply snap my neck and be done with me, then continue on a killing spree until not a soul was left alive except for himself. But, no. He stopped and stared at me, speechless.

"Pull yourself together!" I hissed. "You're causing a scene!" Then- before I could stop myself, or think better of it- I whacked the tyrant over the head with his own wand.

He blinked dumbly, then grabbed for his wand and he was gone, rushing out a side door and vanishing.

I stood for a second, then turned. How many had died? I counted Liana, Lisa, Vincent, the fifth-year girl, the second-year boy, and Ash- oh, Ash! Nellie was hunched over her brother's body, which was lying across the bench, not having been moved from where it had fallen. Her three friends clustered around her, comforting the second-year and crying along with her. I saw Sunny shoot an angry glance up at our table, where her brother Ivan sat. Liana's friends too had appeared, weeping over their friend's lifeless body.

The worst, though, were Lyndsay and Art. My fellow Ravenclaw's face was a tear-streaked mess, his black hair (normally so perfectly styled) a wreck of drooping curls. He nearly shoved Lea and her group out of the way, then sat on the ground, cradling Liana's head in his lap. Lyndsay was half-screaming and distraught, alternating between shrieking Scottish curses in a brogue so thick it all sounded like gibberish and sobbing Vincent's name. She was shaking, or maybe she was shaking him, I couldn't really tell. But I could tell the exact moment when she broke, when she knew he was really gone, that her older brother was dead and that he was never coming back. Oddly enough, she stopped screaming. Softly, she ran a finger over his eyelids, sliding them closed. Even from up on the dais, I could tell that those dark eyes that had glimmered so proudly and with such fire before were dull and lifeless, the exact opposite of Vince.

Lyndsay reached up to her head. Today her shimmering copper locks were held back by a dark red velvet headband. It was one of her favorites- I'd seen my friend wear it before, quite often. So I was surprised when she yanked it off, jerkily, accidentally wetting the fabric when she brushed it against her tear-stained cheek. She lifted Vince's head very gently, wrapping the velvet around his skull. It matted down his long hair, but it covered his eyes. He could have been sleeping but for the nonexistent rising and falling of his chest.

I mumbled to Eve-Charlotte, who was standing below me, "Where has Commander Damien buried the other bodies?"

"They're in a classroom somewhere," she murmured back. "Maybe in the dungeons?"

Shock stilled my limbs. The headmaster was so unfair, so cruel, that he hadn't even allowed his five previous victims a proper burial? I hadn't expected that of even him. I shook my head, exhausted. "See to it that the bodies of the Gryffindors are put there, then." I'll see to it later that they're buried properly.

"Yes, Aly," Eve-Charlotte agreed. Then she lowered her voice. "Why did you stop the Commander? It would have been so fun to see all of the Gryffindors killed. Well, not Sami and the others who are with us, of course- but didn't you break up with that one, er, Nathan? Don't you want to see him killed?"

"Not really," I responded tiredly. "If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead by now."

The striking redhead raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a silly crush on some Gryffindor boy, right?" Her eyes narrowed. "Was this mystery man who you were walking with on Christmas morning?"

I stiffened. Here we were, in a room with panicking and sobbing and shocked students (not to mention the six corpses), and Eve-Charlotte was choosing to question me about my love life?

"I just don't want any more bloodshed," I sighed, my mind singling out Ash. "Take Ash, there." I gestured to the murdered boy, tall for a third-year, black hair matted, brown eyes staring blankly off into the distance while his little sister cried above him.

"Who?"

"Ash Fleetwood. That one." I pointed again. "He was really, really smart. I heard he was a Gryffindor-Ravenclaw hatstall from his sister Nellie, who's a Ravenclaw."

"What about him?" my friend asked. Already she was bored and yawning.

"Imagine if he'd grown up to cure a previously fatal disease," I invented. "Now he's dead, and he won't ever have the chance. And Lisa, Lisa Ryall- since Carter's been killed too, she was the heir to an empire of love potions. Now the Ryall Potions Co. might go out of business, with no one to run it when the current owners die."

"We're in a fortress," Eve-Charlotte pointed out, like she was talking to a small child. "No incurable diseases can reach us here. Plus, the Ryall family lost both of their children the second they arrived at Hogwarts."

"I just don't want any more bloodshed!" I shouted at her, more exasperated than I was tired now.

Eve-Charlotte froze. The Great Hall quieted instantly. I turned to everyone, still and staring at me, and hopped off the high table. I hadn't even realized I was still standing there. Potatoes squished under the heel of my shoe as I landed.

"Peggy," I ordered. "Gather a team and grab the bodies. Finley, Eve-Charlotte, go find Commander Damien and ask him where to put the bodies. Ivan, Katy, and the rest of you- escort the students back to their common rooms."

Everyone hesitated.

"Now!" I repeated pointedly, and everyone sprang into action. The siblings and friends of the dead students didn't even cry or scream as Damien-soldiers led them away from their murdered brothers, sisters, or colleagues. They just dumbly put one foot in front of the other, one step, two steps, three, four, five, until I was alone in the Great Hall. Even the teachers had left.

I felt out of place. I'd just ordered around the entire population of Hogwarts! Half of the students were younger than me, yes, but the fifth-years? The sixth-years? The seventh-years? The professors? In that instant I knew I was holding a position of extreme power.

And although I felt horrible that I hadn't been able to save the slain six from Headmaster Damien's quick curses and even quicker temper, I kind of liked being in charge for once.

Later that night, I found Lanie sitting on my bed reading two books at once. The rest of Ravenclaw was quiet. Any parties that had been scheduled for tonight had been canceled the second Vince Winters' final breath had left him. Half of the people of the tower were asleep in their beds, waiting for their dreams to carry them into the new year. Some of the girls in my dormitory were doing that. Helen, Millie, even Polly, who was tossing and turning and mumbling in her sleep. But Lanie was decidedly awake, turning pages in the Half-Blood Prince copy of Advanced Potion-Making and also Expanding and Upgrading Spells. "I can't believe I never realized it before," she said in a quavery voice that was walking a fine line between marveling and weeping. "The Half-Blood Prince, both dark and light- of course Damien would use his spell as the base to create his own."

"Create his…"

"His own border spell," she answered simply. "That's why no one knows the counter-curse. He couldn't risk using a well-known curse that some seventh-year or professor could bring down with a few simple words. Plus, he wanted to make it cruel, to ensure that no one would ever try to go near the border after the first casualties." Lanie looked up at me, turquoise eyes bright- with tears or excitement? "Aly, he combined two spells. That's incredibly difficult- he must have been working on this for months."

"Does that mean…" I whispered.

Lanie nodded, sadly. "He's been evil for a long, long time. It's not just something brought on recently or anything. This is the real Damien Kayash, the one he's always been, at least inside."

I thought about how happy Headmaster Damien had been in my first through third years- he could be serious, sure, but he'd never been happier than on Valentine's Day. I remembered him from my first year, excitedly greeting students at the doors to the Great Hall which he had decorated while Minerva McGonagall, the headmistress at the time, had eyed the cupids suspiciously but said nothing. (The cupids had ended up being problematic, but that was beside the point.) How could someone so joyful and cheery turn so malicious and immoral?

I didn't let myself dwell on that. Instead, I sat down beside Lanie on the plush mattress and pulled Advanced Potion-Making into my lap. "If he combined two spells, does that mean if we combine the two counter-spells, we have ourselves the counter-curse?"

Lanie smiled sadly. "We might."

"Okay!" I chirped, cheering up. "You find the border spell's counter-spell, I'll find the one that makes it violent and bloody's counter-curse. Do you know what it's called?"

"I don't want to say it out loud, it could be a very sensitive curse," Lanie explained. "But it's marked for enemies."

I remember that one. Suctumsumpra? No, Sectumsempra. I flipped through the pages, looking for that word.

"Even if we could find them both, it would still take months to combine the two spells, and who knows? Either one of us could be dead by then. But, Aly," Lanie said softly as I reached the page, "there's no counter-spell for that curse."

The words, scrawled in stark black ink across the slightly yellowed paper, only confirmed my smart friend's statement as they stared up at me. Sectumsempra. For enemies. That was all.

"And even if we could send owls," she continued, "we couldn't ask the Half-Blood Prince."

I rubbed my eyes. It was nearing eleven o'clock, according to the clock on the wall, and I was already exhausted. "Why? Remind me who he is again?"

"Was," Lanie corrected, pushing her thin silken hair from her eyes. "The Half-Blood Prince, also known as Severus Snape, was murdered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during the Second Wizarding War."

"Severus Snape!" I exclaimed, maybe a bit too loudly. (Somewhere close, Shawnee groaned.) "Snape, Snape, Severus Snape- why didn't I remember that?"

"You're exhausted," Lanie reminded me. As if on cue, I yawned. "We'll figure out the counter-curse somehow. At least we know what spells he combined to make his barrier. She pointed to Expanding and Upgrading Spells. Paintings of a clear dome arching over a Scottish cottage (the dome was shimmery in the book, so you could see it) as well as a dark-skinned woman drawing a line in the dirt with her wand made up almost an entire page. Solid Border Spell, read the title of the page. And there was the counter-spell, too! In very fine print next to the counter-spell (Terminus Abolescus) were the words, CAN ONLY BE PERFORMED FROM INSIDE THE BORDER.

I nearly laughed in exhilaration (or maybe it was just the exhaustion getting to me). We were partway there, closer to solving this fiasco than we'd been since October!

"I'll get off your bed," Lanie said, gathering up her books and standing. "You've been yawning- you should get some sleep. See you in the new year, Aly."

I glanced at the clock and started. There were only fifteen minutes to midnight. I'd read the clock wrong in my wearied state.

"See you in the new year," I replied as I pulled my bed-curtains around me and crawled between the covers. I didn't even bother to change into my pajamas or brush my teeth. I hadn't eaten at the feast anyway.

But despite my frequent yawns, I couldn't fall asleep. For at least ten minutes, I laid there, waiting for the darkness to claim me. And then-

Bong! Bong! Bong!

The grandfather clock in the Ravenclaw common room started to toll twelve bongs to start off the New Year. In Ravenclaw House, it was tradition to make twelve wishes- one per bong!- if you were still awake. I'd been asleep my first and second years, but last year I'd made my twelve wishes. Since I was still awake, I intended to do the same this year.

I wish that we would find the counter-curse.

I wish that we could find a way to defeat Headmaster Damien.

I wish for no one else to die.

I waited for the fourth toll-

Bong! Bong!

I wish that Finley would just leave me alone.

I wish that Nathan and the rest of the fourth-years would stop hating me.

A few beds over, I heard Lanie mumbling her own wishes. I heard Aly and safe and tuned her out, but that gave me an idea.

Bong!

I wish for all of my friends' safety.

Bong!

I wish to pass all of my exams this year.

Bong!

Eight.

I wish that I could sleep without nightmares.

Bong!

I wish that this year will be better than last year.

Bong!

Bong!

Bong!

I took a deep breath. I'd had nine complicated wishes. Now for the three simple ones I'd done last year.

I wish for money.

I wish for love.

I wish for power.

And although I hadn't expected it to, one of my wishes came true in that instant. I fell asleep, and when I woke up a full eight hours later, I realized that the first night of 2044 had been completely nightmare-free.

I've been waiting to write the death of Vincent Winters for forever, ever since the girl who inspired Lyndsay suggested I base him off of one of our friends! I actually had that friend beta read this chapter. Thanks for all your help, man!

Was it good? Thank you guys for all your patience! xx

~atrfla