A/N: Oh dear. It's been a while. I'm so very sorry. It seems that getting an education is a hindrance to writing fiction. I shall attempt to grovel by giving you a slightly longer chapter than usual.

Hope Martin had been a Healer for almost thirteen years, having been accepted as a trainee Healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries immediately upon her graduation from Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort had been defeated by Harry Potter for a little over two years by the time she received her N.E.W.T. scores – Outstanding in all of her core subjects: Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, as well as Exceeds Expectations in both Alchemy and Ancient Runes. These scores were more than adequate to grant her entry into the profession, and she had begun her Healing career on the fourth floor.

The fourth floor dealt chiefly with Spell Damage – unliftable jinxes, hexes gone wrong, malfunctioning charms, and the like. By the time Hope arrived at the scene, the last few patients of the backlog left over from the Dark Lord's second reign were being treated. She became more intimately acquainted with dark magic, and the unforgivable curses that year than she'd ever dreamed. So many had fallen victim to poorly performed Imperius curses, or prolonged Cruciatus curses, or had wounds that refused to heal at the entry point of dark spells. The Janus Thickey ward, for long term residents with permanent or long lasing spell damage, had had to be expanded to three times it original size to house all those whose spell damage could not be reversed. Hope had also become very adept at memory charms, since a good proportion of her patients were Muggles fallen victim to Voldemort's blood purity prejudices. It had been a little thrilling, actually, to be allowed to perform overt, complicated magic in front of them, knowing she was fully authorised to erase it from their memories at the end of their treatment.

For each of the four years following, she was assigned to a different floor, still as a trainee, to gather experience in all the major areas of magical illness. After the fourth floor, it was down to the first, to work under Hippocrates Smethwyck in Creature-Induced Injuries. Her third year was spent on the third floor, in Potions and Plant Poisoning, then to the ground floor for Artefact Accidents. It wasn't until her fifth and final year as a trainee Healer however, that she found her calling: the second floor's Magical Bugs and Disease department. Her very first day there, a young wizard suffering from Vanishing Sickness was admitted. He had been an urgent admission from Hogwarts, hurried there by Healer T. Pike. Madam Pomfrey had decided that the fall of Lord Voldemort would be a nice point in time to begin her retirement, and Healer Pike had been her replacement. Hope had heard of Vanishing Sickness before, but never seen it in the flesh. Or, lack of flesh, as she realised the case was. The boy's body parts were disappearing at a steady pace. He had come in missing his entire left arm, and during the time that Hope was with the Healer in Charge, listening to him take the boy's medical history, she saw his right pinky and ring finger vanish in the blink of an eye.

Life on the second floor was never dull. There were the baffling cases that made her rack her brains and conjure up scores of magic for diagnostic testing, the longer-term patients who stayed in her care long enough for a bond to be formed, the classic ailments like dragon pox that she could begin curing within seconds of diagnosing. Some days were a little slow, others were fast-paced and required lightning-quick thinking. No two days were ever alike, and she savoured the challenge. No job satisfaction existed quite like walking into a tidal wave of panic and imminent disaster, and calmly restoring order.

Her superiors had been impressed with her performance, and when it came time to apply for permanent positions, Hope Martin's application was the first one in at the Magical Bugs and Disease department. It was also the best, as it transpired, and she was offered a place on the second floor as an independent, fully qualified Healer. And there she had stayed, until one month ago, where she accepted a position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Life here was comparatively slow, and Hope could almost feel her brain beginning to atrophy as the slow trickle of students with low-grade, non-urgent, trivial problems came into the hospital wing. It was extraordinarily frustrating, since she knew the minute she was presented with something exciting, like a rapid onset, fast moving, highly contagious magical bug, she would be obligated to send the student to St Mungo's to receive multi-disciplinary care in isolation. This last week, she had treated two broken noses, a broken leg, three broken arms, and a vomiting and diarrhoea bug had swept through the entire second year Slytherin boys' dormitory. There had been a hand burnt in a cauldron, the accidental ingestion of some kind of small water beetle during a lunchtime Lake swim that caused progressive numbness, a flobberworm bite, a twig from the Whomping Willow embedded in a bicep, a stinging nettle incident, and now Jane Rizzoli.

Hope had seen plenty of Quidditch players already – they accounted for at least 80% of the broken bones she had mended. It was not unusual, therefore, for her to receive patients and visitors in full uniform, with expensive brooms and other Quidditch paraphernalia resting on or around the hospital bed. Jane's Quidditch captain, whose name she had already forgotten, stood at the end of the bed looking concerned. Hope couldn't tell if she was legitimately worried about Jane's wellbeing, or worried that she was going to have to replace a player.

Jane had presented to her with nausea, a very unhealthy pallor, and skin that was cold and clammy. She had tried to throw up, but the Quidditch captain had informed Hope that the contents of Jane's stomach was presently splattered across the Quidditch pitch. Her patient was curled in the foetal position, wearing a grimace, and clutching her lower abdomen while she answered Hope's questions through gritted teeth.

'Have you eaten anything sourced from outside the castle?'

'No,' Jane groaned. 'Wait, yes. Some Every Flavour Beans. But I've been eating those since forever.'

'Is anyone else in your dormitory sick like this?'

'No, it came out of nowhere.'

'Have you experienced any diarrhoea in the last twenty-four hours?'

'Ugh, no.'

'Do you menstruate?'

Jane was quiet for a moment as she braced herself against a wave of pain. 'I don't know what that means.'

Hope was rather taken aback. In her day, they had all received somewhat comprehensive puberty and sex education lectures from Madam Pomfrey.

'Do you bleed for three to seven days each month?'

'Three to seven days?' Jane looked up at the Healer in horror. 'I've been bleeding from places that shouldn't ever bleed since this morning. I fell pretty hard on the stairs last night, but it's freaking me out. I was going to come and see you if it hadn't stopped by tomorrow.'

'Well,' Hope said calmly, 'this makes things a bit easier. Turn over, so I can take your pain away, and then I'll explain what's happening. Women came in with this all the time at St. Mungo's.'

As she lifted her wand to prepare a potent analgesic, she saw the girl at the end of Jane's bed turn to look at the doorway. A somewhat shrill, panic-stricken voice was heard a second later: 'Jane Clementine Rizzoli, don't you dare die!'

'Maur-?' Jane tried to sit up, but Hope gently pushed her shoulder back towards the mattress.

'Lie flat, and take your hands away,' she instructed.

Jane flung her forearms over her face and held her breath against the pain.

'Liberia ab iniuria,' Hope performed an upward spiral motion with her wand over Jane's abdomen, and the girl let out an enormous sigh of instant relief.

The panicked Maura had rushed to Jane's side by then, and watched with interest as the Healer brought her wand with great care to an empty glass jar, and tapped it over the vessel as though she was flicking ash from the end of a cigarette. A fiery red substance fell from her wand's tip and continued to do so until the jar was over two-thirds full. Hope screwed on the lid and held it up to a chandelier with a scrutinising gaze. The substance threw itself around the jar angrily, like a scoop of imprisoned stormy sea.

'That's very interesting,' Hope remarked. 'Jane, I'm impressed that you were able to continue your game of Quidditch with this inside you.'

'What is it?' came that accented voice again, now in much less of a panic.

Hope looked to her, and was surprised to see a girl with a telescope tucked snugly under each arm standing there.

'It's pain,' she said simply. 'Very aggressive, too. Given its tumultuous nature, I'd hypothesise it grew very quickly to produce nausea and vomiting, is that correct?'

'Yeah,' Jane frowned. 'How did you know that?'

'You said earlier it started very suddenly, but-'

'She can read pain,' Maura stared at the Healer with a look of respect. 'Not many Healers bother to take the time to learn to do that.'

'I thought it a worthwhile endeavour,' Hope unscrewed the lid of the glass jar, and transferred a small quantity of the pain into a crystal phial. 'It can be very useful in diagnostic testing. What did you say your name was?'

'I didn't. Maura Isles.'

'Maura,' Hope murmured, staring out the window with a fixed gaze. She shook herself back to the present after a moment, and fetched some ice to put the phial on. 'That's a very uncommon name.'

Maura gave a nod. 'I've never met another.'

'Well, Maura, tell me,' Hope looked her in the eye with a slightly amused expression. 'What brought you to the conclusion that Jane was at risk of losing her life?'

Maura coloured at the mention of her outburst, but defended her actions none the less. 'I was informed Jane hadn't been feeling well at the beginning of her Quidditch practice, and threw up towards the end of it. Coupled with the fact she ate very little at dinner and at lunch, her uncharacteristic moodiness over the last two days and your mention of St. Mungo's, I feared the worst. She could be suffering from any number of potentially lethal illnesses: a brain infection, stomach cancer, lead poisoning, iron poisoning, mesenteric lymphadenitis, carbon monoxide poisoning, giardiasis, Henoch-Schonlein purpura, Shigella, Chagas disease…'

'I'm impressed,' Hope praised the girl with the telescopes as her list began to trail off. 'But Chagas disease isn't found in the United Kingdom; it's endemic to South and Central America.'

'I know that,' Maura nodded. 'But I caught sight of a Golden Poison Arrow Frog recently, and though I haven't been able to produce a sufficiently logical explanation as to its presence here, I thought perhaps South American parasites might also have made their way into the country.'

'That's highly unlikely,' Hope examined the phial, testing its temperature. 'Our climate simply does not provide the warmth necessary to sustain those creatures of an inherently tropical nature.'

Rowan, who had been largely forgotten, was looking back and forth between Maura and Madam Martin as though they had each grown an extra head. 'Not that this isn't… uh, educational,' she interrupted. 'And very interesting, but now that Jane's all good and has a friend… can I go?'

Madam Martin nodded in acquiescence, and turned back to her phial as Rowan collected her broom. 'Come find me tomorrow, Jane, and let me know if I need to alter your Quidditch drills or start training one of the reserves for Beating. We're playing Slytherin in a month, and we're going to crush them.'

'Thanks, Rowan.' Jane was sitting up now, frowning at Maura. 'Why do you have Frankie's telescope?'

'I suspect one of the gear mechanisms is jammed, and I offered to fix it. He hasn't been able to see the sky the entire time he's been here.'

'Oh,' Jane looked a little embarrassed. 'Thanks. Ma found it in the attic, and nobody could remember whose it was.' She looked over at Hope, who was swirling the contents of the phial and smelling it. 'Why is she playing with my pain?' Jane whispered to Maura.

'I'm not playing with it, I'm running diagnostics,' the Healer spoke without looking up. 'I just want to verify uterine contractions are the cause of the pain before I provide further treatment.'

'Oh!' came softly from Maura's lips. 'It's dysmenorrhoea, isn't it?' she asked the Healer.

'That's my hypothesis, yes.' Hope went to her store cupboard and retrieved a fine amber-coloured powder. A pinch went into the phial, and instantly the fiery red colour turned into a pastel pink. 'Hypothesis confirmed,' she nodded.

'What's a uterine?' Jane asked, now sitting up with her legs crossed. 'Have I like, ruptured something, or…?'

'No…' Hope wondered where on earth to begin this explanation. 'Jane, have you received any kind of sex education before? Has your mother ever told you to expect bleeding?'

Jane's face was blank.

'I swear to Dumbledore, if Pike has done away with this programme due to his own shortcomings as an educator…' Hope stopped mid-rant. 'Sorry.' She used her wand to draw the outline of a strange shape in the air, as Maura set down her telescopes and climbed onto the bed next to Jane. 'This is an organ called the uterus. It's about this big, is situated here, and only females have one…'

Jane emerged from the hospital wing with Maura about a half hour later looking utterly dazed. In one hand she held a small bottle of a potion Madam Martin had custom brewed for her, using a few drops of Jane's pain to ensure adequate relief for future episodes of menstrual cramping.

'Did you know about all that?' Jane turned to Maura with a look of incredulous horror. 'Why didn't Ma warn me?'

'Perhaps she thought the school would educate you?' Maura guessed. 'I knew most of what Madam Martin told us, yes. We had voluntary sessions at Fort Acton, and I've done some reading of my own, in my father's medical textbooks. I'm sorry your menstruation is so painful; mine's never hurt much at all.'

Jane didn't know how Maura could be so calm and speak about this so openly. She was bleeding uncontrollably, and would do so for up to a week every month unless she got a little too cosy with the opposite sex! She gave an involuntary shiver at the prospect. Maura's latest admission was something of a comfort, though.

'You bleed like you got sectumsempra'd too?' she asked her friend. 'Since when?'

'Approximately eight months ago,' Maura thought back. 'It gets better, I promise. Less scary, I mean. The best thing to do is practice vanishing spells, and then nothing ever gets too messy. I do sympathise for Muggle girls.'

They ascended the stairs in contemplative silence. Maura was relieved that Jane's poor mood over the last few days was attributable to hormonal changes, and not because she was trying to freeze Maura out. She had been worried that that had been Jane's way of telling her she wanted to break their friendship.

'Maur?' Jane said suddenly as they rounded the third floor landing. 'Thanks for coming to check that I was okay. I know I've been a real jerk to you the last couple of days.' She took a deep breath. 'I don't really care that your parents have money. I think I just care that my parents don't. Because we're not very well off. Maybe you figured that out already, but we don't have many galleons to toss around. And that's why I can't just go out and buy a new dress for a wedding, and it's why Frankie's telescope is the most useless piece of junk in this entire school, and, well, I'm sorry. I wasn't ever really angry with you. Hex me if you want? Free shot.'

Jane flung her arms out and turned her head to the side, squinting out of the corner of one eye in grim anticipation.

Maura only laughed, and it was music to Jane's ears. 'I accept your apology,' she smiled. 'And I'm not going to hex you. I hope this means you'll come and have a dress fitting with the Ravenclaws?'

'Thursday night,' Jane promised, and they continued up the stairs.

'Oi!' a tall boy with oily black hair seemed to materialise on the next landing. He wore a smirk and a green and silver striped tie. 'You're past your curfew,' he gave an ugly grin, sneering down at them. 'How about I dock a house point for every minute you should have been back in your common rooms?'

Jane eyeballed his shiny prefect badge for a second before continuing to march up the stairs undeterred. 'Cool it, slimeball,' she thrust a strip of parchment into his chest with unnecessary force.

'I, Healer Hope Martin, grant permission for Miss Jane Rizzoli and Miss Maura Isles to exceed their usual curfew by one hour due to urgent medical attention, on this day, the first day of October, 2013.'

The Slytherin almost snarled, as though he'd been cheated out of a kill. 'Watch it,' he spat. 'I've got friends in high places who could make life hard for you.'

'High places?' Jane scoffed. 'You mean like Janet Tamaro, or Professor Cavanaugh? Or do you mean literal high places, like Ravenclaws and Gryffindors? Because I seriously doubt all of the above. Go back to your dungeon, thug.'

Maura's heart was pounding as they climbed stairs until they were standing on the fifth floor landing, out of earshot. 'Jane!' she exclaimed breathlessly. 'I can't believe you said those things! Won't he report you?'

'Maybe,' Jane nodded, a little surprised, but very satisfied at her outburst. 'I doubt it, though. I think he's a coward. Anyway, I couldn't help it,' she gave a smirk. 'Hormones!'

'You're blaming your rudeness on hormones?' Maura was amused.

'Heck yes! I'm counting on it to get back in your good books,' Jane grinned. 'See you tomorrow, Maur!' She turned and bounded up the next flight of steps, taking them two at a time.

Jane groaned as she tried in vain to relieve the incessant aching in her left shoulder. This didn't even come close to being a fair punishment for a parchment plane war. The minute she'd arrived for her detention the following evening, Kravitz had seized her wand, and replaced it with a duster. She was to dust and then polish all fifteen suits of armour lining the walls of the History of Magic classroom, without magic. These suits of armour were the only ones still intact after they had been used to protect the castle against Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts.

'What'd Joey have to do?' she grumbled to the professor, as he sat at his table grading papers and drinking elderflower wine from a golden goblet.

The teacher looked up, a quill dipped in blood-red ink poised over a stack of parchment. 'Joseph spent three hours yesterday evening removing Drooble's gum from beneath the desks without magic, and inspecting three trunks full of period costumes for fabric integrity. Are you suggesting your punishments are unequal, Miss Rizzoli?'

'No, Sir,' Jane mumbled, dusting over the face of a suit of armour, and jumping back as it sneezed.

'Oh, good Lord!' Professor Kravitz exclaimed an hour or so later. 'Who on earth wrote this atrocity?' The man was on his third –perhaps fourth – goblet of wine, and was making outbursts like this quite regularly. 'Ronan Finnegan! Jolly useless. What do you think, Miss Rizzoli? Shall I award him a Poor, or a Dreadful?'

Jane let the arm that was polishing the fourth suit of armour hang limp at her side as she turned to gape at him. 'I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be discussing the grades of students with me. I know Ronan. I know his older brother Liam, and his younger brother Shane. My family knows their family, Sir, really well.'

Jane was pleased to see the professor's eyes widen a little. Truth be told, Shane was the only brother she really liked out of the Finnegan siblings. Their families had grown up together, and though none of the Finnegan boys were any good at Quidditch, they had had some good times before Jane and Liam had gone off to Hogwarts. She didn't have much interest in whether Ronan passed or failed History of Magic, but Professor Kravitz' tipsiness had started to dig him a hole. Jane's only concern was whether that hole was deep enough to get her out of polishing another eleven and a half suits of armour this evening.

'Ronan would be very confused about how I know his grade before anybody else in his class has their papers back, don't you think, Sir?'

'I haven't… His mark… I haven't awarded him a grade yet,' Kravitz was beginning to get flustered. 'And I posed a query to you, Jane. It would not be pertinent to construe our conversation was a discussion…'

'And I'm curious, Sir,' Jane asked innocently as best she could, though her steely eyes gave away her true motives. 'I know a lot of the professors have a goblet of wine with dinner, but I didn't know professors were allowed to drink in their classrooms, in front of their students. Especially not in one-on-one situations. And especially not a whole bottle.'

'I have not consumed an entire bottle, Miss Riz-'

'I bet Professor Cavanaugh would know, since he sets the rules. I'll ask him next time I see him,' she turned back to the suit of armour to hide a burgeoning smirk.

'Is that the time?' Professor Kravtiz was an incredibly bad actor. 'I hadn't realised the hour. Jane, you've done a magnificent job, and that will be quite enough for tonight. Thank you for your punctuality this evening.'

'Are you sure, Sir?'

'Yes, yes, quite sure,' he seemed to be peering at the wine bottle, searching for a non-existent meniscus, and didn't see Jane's triumphant grin.

She swaggered to the front of the room and swiped her wand from his desk, before peering into his empty goblet. 'Aguamenti!' she pointed her wand into the vessel. 'My Pop always says a few glasses of water will ward off a hangover. See you in class, Sir.'

'You never!' Maura's jaw dropped the next morning as Jane recounted to her the previous evening's events. 'I'm flabbergasted Professor Kravtiz would even fathom consuming wine in your presence. It's so unprofessional! He could receive a written warning for that if you reported it.'

'Eh, I think I'll keep that one tucked away for emergency use,' Jane shrugged. 'You never know when I'll be hauled off to detention again.'

'Damn, Jane,' Frost looked impressed. 'I wish I'd been there. History's going to be so much more fun now!'

'Glad to be of service,' Jane grinned.

'Barry, I need to go to the owlery to post this letter,' Anna straddled the bench to face him side-on. 'Save me a seat in class?'

'Sure, babe,' Frost turned to her with his signature grin; a grin that was surfacing much more frequently lately.

He leaned in with the intention of giving her a quick peck goodbye, but she wrapped a hand around his neck and kept them lip-locked for at least ten seconds.

Maura and Jane turned to one another, Maura looking very amused, and Jane's eyebrows crawling steadily up her forehead. Jane let her eyes flicker to the pair of love birds, before returning them quickly back to Maura in embarrassment. Holding Maura's gaze was infinitely more comfortable than seeing two thirteen year olds share squeamishly long kisses over breakfast. It struck Jane suddenly just how bright Maura's eyes were, even so early in the morning. She hadn't been granted the opportunity before to study her friend's face square on in such close proximity. How had she not noticed before that Maura's eyebrows were the exact colour of her hair, which was pulled back today in a loose ponytail? Or how the flecks of goldy brown in her hazel eyes arranged themselves almost like rays of sunlight around her pupils?

Jane realised all of a sudden that her face, which had looked surprised several seconds ago, had begun to relax into a mellow stare of wonderment. She prayed she had caught herself in time, and looked back across the table to Frost. Anna, thankfully, had commenced her departure, and now Frost was scratching the back of his head, waiting for that inevitable questioning eye contact from Jane.

'Yeah, we're dating,' he nodded, trying extremely hard not to make a big deal out of it.

'Frosty!' Jane initiated a fist bump, which got him to break out into a massive grin.

Maura smiled, pleased for him. 'How did it happen?'

'Yeah,' Jane nodded. 'How'd you do it? Here, I'll be Anna, you be Frost.' She cleared her throat, and adopted as high pitched a voice as she could manage. 'Barry! Oh, Barry! You are so beautiful. I adore spending every ounce of my free time glued to you.'

Frost looked very good naturedly unamused. 'Yeah, yeah, very funny. I told her I liked her. She told me she liked me, too. Then I manned up and asked if she wanted to make things a little more official.'

'And the rest is history,' Jane swept an arm up into the air with a wistful gaze. 'What a beautiful love story. Maur, did you ever hear of a love story that touched your heart quite so much as that one just did?'

'Actually, yes,' Maura began. 'Have you ever heard of a collection called The Enchanted Encounters by Fifi La-'

'New entry on my to-do list,' Jane cut her off loudly. 'Teach Maura Isles to recognise and appreciate sarcasm.'

Maura pursed her lips. 'Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Jane.'

Jane looked momentarily crestfallen. 'But I've got so much of it to give,' she said sadly.

'…That was sarcasm, too, wasn't it?'

'No, it was the truth,' Jane deadpanned. 'Patience, grasshopper. You've much to learn.'

'I don't know how you put up with her,' Frost commented. 'I don't know how I put up with her.'

'I'm occasionally perplexed by that question, too,' Maura nodded with him in solidarity. 'I'm going to see if the library has the new edition of Moste Potente Potions in yet. I'll see you two later.'

The sun completed its journey over Hogwarts quickly, and before Jane knew it, she was following Maura, Runa, Illy, and Arwen up flights of stairs she had never before set foot on.

'Merlin,' she swore, looking around her as they entered the enormous stone cylinder of Ravenclaw Tower. 'I thought I had it bad walking up to the seventh floor. You guys have to walk way further.'

'It's how we stay bright and beautiful,' Arwen grinned over her shoulder at their guest.

The four of them wrapped their robes more tightly around themselves as they ascended the spiral staircase two abreast; it was extremely chilly in here. Gillian, the slightest girl of their party, had already been wearing her blue and bronze Ravenclaw scarf for a week, and Jane watched her mittened hand skimming the bannister.

'Here's a new face!' a portrait to Jane's left suddenly exclaimed excitedly.

'She loves the floo network, Ignatia,' Runa called back before anyone could think about stopping to chat. 'She uses it all the time!'

Illy giggled into her mitten and Runa gave a pitying chuckle. 'The woman needs to find herself a new hobby. I hate to think what'll happen if floo travel becomes obsolete.'

'What kind of dress are you after, Jane?' Arwen asked, wary of inadvertently excluding her from their conversation.

'Uh…' Jane thought about all the kinds of dresses she knew. There were the kinds that had straps, and the kinds that didn't. She was pleased to realise she knew two more categories of dress than she'd originally thought. 'One that doesn't need boobs to stay up,' she said decidedly. 'And my Ma has to like it. It's for my cousin's wedding, and apparently jeans are a no-go.'

'I can totally see you in a waistcoat,' Arwen commented, looking back at Jane to affirm her vision. 'With a puff sleeve blouse – chiffon, ideally, though not the warmest material for an autumn wedding.'

'Ma would freak,' Jane said a little dejectedly. 'She can be pretty traditional.'

'I told Frankie I'd take him shopping for a waistcoat on Saturday morning,' Maura added. 'He said you hold the permission form that will let him off the grounds?'

'Yeah, I'll bring it down to breakfast tomorrow morning. Are we there yet? This is getting ridiculous.'

'Just up here,' Runa pointed to a landing that opened up onto a short passage.

'Aren't you worried I'll steal your password and come up here and annoy you all the time?' Jane queried. She was pretty sure this was against the rules, not that she cared. Unless it landed her in detention with Kravtiz again. She didn't understand at first why the other three girls were laughing at her query. Then they reached the bronze eagle knocker.

'What have you got for me today?' Runa spoke to it.

'What is the difference between monkshood, wolfsbane, and aconite?' the knocker asked.

'Pshh, easy,' Runa scoffed. 'Absolutely nothing, is the answer.'

The door swung open in silent confirmation, and the four girls filed into the passage it guarded.

'Shit,' Jane's mouth was agape. 'You don't even have a password.'

'We have a riddle,' Maura answered, smiling at Jane's reaction.

'But, what if you don't know the answer?'

Arwen shrugged. 'Then you're stuck outside. First and second years eventually end up being grateful for their early curfew. If older kids didn't come along and answer their riddle, they'd spend the night out in the passage.'

'So the riddle won't change until it's answered?'

Illy nodded. 'That's how we learn.'

'I'm going to check that the coast is clear,' Runa indicated a short flight of stone steps that led to the common room. 'Susie Chang would love to bust me for something like this. Jane, ditch your tie and robe, and put on Illy's scarf.'

Runa darted up the steps and casually surveyed the common room. A lot of Ravenclaws were still at dinner. A pair of youngsters played a game of wizard's chess, and a couple of sixth year boys were teaching a handful of first and second years the rules of gobstones. There was a girl tucked up in an armchair reading with a cat on her lap, a boy practicing some basic charms, and another girl Runa didn't recognise writing a letter next to the fire. Runa smiled triumphantly – getting Jane in was going to be easy.

She darted down the steps and beckoned to the small group waiting for her in the bottom passage. Jane looked completely unlike herself wearing a blue and bronze scarf, though she made a convincing enough Ravenclaw. The biggest giveaway was the thin band of red and gold at the bottom of her school jersey, but it was hard to tell if the Ravenclaws clustered closely around her. She had her tie bundled up in her robe, which she clutched to her abdomen, shivering without the extra layer.

'It's warm in our dorm,' Runa promised, and the group headed for the common room.

It was no more than five metres from the entrance to the common room to the entrance to the dormitories, but Jane still had a few choice moments to drink in this hidden-away place. The domed ceiling, and the elegant silk window hangings… it was very Ravenclaw, for want of a better description. The Gryffindor common room was cosy, with old squashy armchairs, and cushions that had been torn and mended over and over again. It had a very homey feel to it, but it didn't come close to being what you might call sophisticated. This Ravenclaw common room was classy. She'd seen occasional glimpses of the interior from when she'd flown up to the windows on a broom, but that didn't do it justice. Before she could commit any of the finer details to memory, she was being ushered through a door, and up some more steps, and then finally into the third year dorm.

She crossed immediately to the centre of the room, where a floor-to-ceiling cylindrical wood burner was pumping out heat. 'Dang, this is nice!' she looked around the room, dropping her robe bundle at the foot of the fireplace.

'Worth the climb?' Arwen asked, as Jane returned Gillian's scarf.

'Maybe once a day,' Jane shrugged with a grin. 'How many dresses do you guys own?'

The collective total for the three of them turned out to be twenty six, which was upped to thirty four when Vivienne and Avalon joined them. As Jane had suspected, Maura contributed to the majority of that number, with seventeen dresses in her possession at Hogwarts.

'Seventeen?' Jane had gaped. 'I don't expect to own seventeen dresses over my lifetime!'

The five Ravenclaw girls were getting an enormous kick out of dressing up Jane Rizzoli. At first, Jane stood next to the heater with her arms crossed, watching the thirty four dresses be spread out on beds. They ran out of space very quickly, and Avalon conjured a string from wall to wall that seemed to have cable-like properties to hang the garments on. There were floor length gowns, knee-length dresses, summer frocks, long sleeve knit pieces, and a big selection of formal dresses in a plethora of colours.

'Alright, let's ditch the summer stuff,' Arwen ordered, sending five garments zipping down to bunch up at one end of the string. 'They're too casual, and she'll freeze to death.'

'I can do a little tailoring,' Illy volunteered. 'If the dresses are too big, or-'

'Or need the frills cut off?' Jane asked hopefully, eyeing a yellow off the shoulder dress with an excessively ruffly strap.

Illy giggled. 'Yes, I could do that.'

'I'm not sending her to a wedding in a floor length gown,' Runa said decisively, surveying the dresses critically with one hip cocked. 'And that panel dress has got to go.'

'I think she'd suit a darker colour,' Viv mused. 'Not black, but definitely not yellow.'

'And something with straps,' Maura added. 'I don't want Jane spending the entire wedding worrying that her dress is going to fall down.'

Jane had quickly grown bored while the others were debating over her wedding guest-attire, and plonked down onto the floor to practice conjuring and disappearing small puddles of water. Three days of having her period had been more than enough to convince her that menstruation was the one of the worst things that had ever happened to her.

'Okay, Jane!' Maura called her after another fifteen minutes or so. 'We've narrowed it down to five.' She had conjured a curtain between two four poster beds, and held up the first of the dresses for Jane to try on with an excited smile.

The next half hour did not make Jane's Top 5 Favourite Moments list. If anything, it caused semi-buried memories of childhood clothes shopping excursions with her mother in Diagon Alley to resurface. A pink cloak with white lace had been thrust upon her in Madam Malkin's at the age of six, and quickly ended in tears with the garment in several pieces. Angela Rizzoli had succeeded in getting Jane to agree to an emerald green cloak with silver fastenings, but it came at the price of buying her defiant daughter her first Pipsqueak Beater's Bat for Little League Quidditch as a reward.

Jane emerged from behind the curtain feeling suitably uncomfortable. She did the necessary twirls after a minor protest and promptly vetoed the red dress with the sweetheart neckline Avalon tried to pass to her next.

'No, that one's all wrong,' Runa shook her head after Jane emerged for the second time wearing the third candidate. 'She doesn't have enough boob for it. If we shrink it at the front we'll warp the detailing. Next one!'

The "next one" turned out to be a midnight blue criss-cross dress of Maura's, the fit of which was a vast improvement on the other garments. Jane was a lot taller and lankier than her friend, but Illy was confident that taking it in at the waist and lengthening the skirt wouldn't be a problem. Jane trialled the final dress; an LBD Runa had swiped from Rowan during the summer. It actually fit quite well, and Jane might have worn it to the wedding if images of Angela complaining about its provocativeness hadn't suddenly bounded around in her mind. The dress stopped abruptly mid-thigh, showed her every curve on the way up, and would have made her feel incredibly vulnerable if it weren't for the black lace covering her chest and upper arms.

Runa whistled. 'Day-um, girl! You look hot! What do you reckon, Maura?'

Maura was trying very hard not to let on that she had been rendered temporarily speechless. She nodded mutely for a few seconds, before finding some words. 'It fits very well. You look… astoundingly sexy… very feminine. Though, I'm not sure this is the best choice for a wedding. Clubbing, certainly. But…'

'I know,' Jane nodded. 'Ma's already in my head telling me to take it off.'

After donning Maura's blue number a second time for Illy to make some quick alterations, slipping back into her uniform felt every bit as comfortable as slipping into a hot bath after a wet, cold game of Quidditch. She was astounded that this trial-and-error fashion parade could be so exhausting, and she was quite looking forward to climbing under her quilt with the Gryffindor lion on it and passing out for the night. As she emerged from her makeshift changing room with words of thanks on the tip of her tongue, she was dismayed to find the Ravenclaws rummaging through their trunks to bring out pairs of heels, shrugs, cardigans, blazers, clutches, and jewellery.

'I hope you didn't think you were getting off that easily,' Runa gave a conniving grin.

Another full hour had passed before Jane was smuggled back out of the Ravenclaw common room, now armed with the midnight blue dress, a pair of Arwen's black wedge pumps, a black short-sleeved blazer from Runa, and a clutch purse Illy had found in the bottom of her trunk. Maura had also given her a silver bracelet and a pair of earrings, and strict instructions to wear her hair down. Jane was grateful for their help, but her bed had never been more comfortable than that night.

Maura found Frankie waiting in the castle's atrium for her on Saturday morning. He had a rucksack packed for the weekend, and was jingling a few coins in his pocket.

'Did Jane give you my permission form?' he asked as she approached.

She nodded, retrieving the slip of parchment from the pocket of her red knit coat. 'I think it's going to be quite chilly this weekend – have you packed a travel cloak?'

'Yeah, Ma sent me a checklist,' he looked a little embarrassed. 'Are you ready to go?'

'Yes,' Maura nodded brightly, giving a quick double-check to the contents of her handbag, and moving to exit the castle.

'You're going to walk all the way to Hogsmeade in heels?' Frankie asked sceptically.

Maura turned to give him a confused frown. 'They're sensible heels.'

The pair hadn't moved far from the castle when they saw an unusual cluster of students near the shore of the Black Lake. Naturally curious, they joined the small crowd, and after a little pushing, secured a spot with a decent vantage point.

Professor Korsak was kneeling over something, and Maura gave an audible gasp as the teacher straightened up and stood back. There was a body lying tangled on the grass, dripping with water and showing several signs of decay. Maura had to hold a hand to her nose as an unpleasant stench reached her nostrils, and as she looked further out to the Lake, she saw several heads of Merpeople watching from a distance.

'My Goodness,' she breathed. 'Shouldn't somebody alert the Headmaster?'

'He's coming now,' a voice from somewhere behind her answered, and sure enough, Professor Cavanaugh was taking enormous strides across the lawn to them.

'Have you made an age line?' was the first thing out of Cavanaugh's mouth, directed at Korsak.

'Of course I have,' Korsak almost looked offended at the question. 'I was first on the scene, this body hasn't been touched since it left the water.'

'How long's it been here?'

'Haven't got a clue. You'll need to ask those guys,' Korsak indicated the Merpeople. 'I hope you speak Mermish, 'cause I sure as hell don't.'

'I'm an ex-Auror, Vince, do I look like I can interpret Mermish?'

Korsak ignored the question. Cavanaugh tended to get angry when situations were beyond his control, and indeed a light shade of red was already creeping across his cheeks.

'You might want to try Sage,' Korsak said instead. 'I heard a rumour she can speak a little.'

Cavanaugh turned and surveyed the gathering of students. 'Garland Kelly!' he pointed to a fifth year student he knew was reliable. 'Get me Professor Molette, and don't be slow about it.'

The girl took off back to the castle at a sprint, and Korsak and Cavanaugh began talking in hushed whispers.

'Who is it?' Frankie asked a Hufflepuff prefect he knew who was standing next to him.

'I'm not 100%,' the prefect replied. 'But, it kind of looks like Healer Pike.'