Friday May 22, 1992

After grabbing a quick meal in the great hall, Melissa waited for Harry and his friends in an unused classroom on the fifth floor. The wait grew to be longer than expected, though Melissa took that time to simply go over her study notes during that time. After about half an hour, the door opened with Harry, Kevin, Hannah, and Justin trudging in. When the four Puffs slumped into their seats, Melissa couldn't help but give an amused smirk.

"Weasel ate your nest?" She asked in parseltongue.

Justin seemed to blink at her in confusion. "What?"

The girl chuckled. "You look like hell." She clarified.

"Thanks." Harry muttered sarcastically. "We had potions this morning."

"Ah… and how is our dear sheriff doing this morning?"

"Like he's going to cancel Christmas." Harry replied with annoyance. Though Kevin and Justin seemed to chuckle at the comment.

Hannah, though, didn't catch the joke. "I don't get it."

"It's from the movie." Kevin explained. "I still can't believe you missed it last summer."

Hannah sighed at the comment. "I know, but my parents don't like going out to muggle films."

"I'm sure we can change their minds this summer." Kevin encouraged.

While they continued their conversation, Melissa turned to Harry and Justin. "What did Dark Man do this morning?"

"Dark Man was angry." Justin answered.

"Hissed all morning. Stole from badger-nest many times." Harry added. It was a rough explanation for a snake's vocabulary, but Melissa knew enough context to get that he was talking about house points.

The girl made a gesture of condolence to the boys. "Hopefully Dark Man will be less angry as days pass."

Harry raised a brow at that. "Doubtful."

"Hey, Harry," Kevin joined into the conversation, "can we try to learn the names for classes today?"

Harry quirked his head slightly at the question. "I don't think there would be words for that."

"I know, but see what comes naturally to those words. That way we can talk about something we can all relate to."

Hearing that point, Justin nodded slightly. "It's certainly more relatable than talking about Types of Prey." He shuddered slightly in disgust at the reminder.

"Well, I suppose we could give it a try." Harry considered.

The five of them sat around a table and started a list of classes at Hogwarts. Harry then tried his hand at naming each class as if in parseltongue conversation. Phrases like plant-knowing, magic water, and the ever simple flying came easy enough. Transfiguration and charms were difficult to decipher. Ideas like scale changing, shedding and such caused near-philosophical debates about how to define the magic used for those classes, moreso when they tried to define it in terms of all objects and creatures as opposed to just snakes. Then they got to the more theory-based classes and things just became downright silly.

"History of Magic?" Justin asked. The first years looked at each other, unsure of how to deal with that one.

"Wizard memory." Melissa answered with little thought. With nods of agreement and hisses to sound out the phrase, they wrote down the accepted term.

Kevin looked down at the next one. "Arithmancy? That's the maths one, there's no way snakes have a word for that.."

"This class is counting. Counting." Harry answered.

Kevin looked at him strangely. "Snakes can count?"

"I guess?" Harry replied. "It's not like I've never asked one, but I was able to say it so it must be a thing, right?."

"Well, if they have a word for it…" Hannah began the thought aloud.

Kevin blinked as he looked at Hannah and Harry, then shook his head. "Well, I'll be… snakes can count!

The others chuckled at his shock and continued on. "Ancient Runes?" Justin asked.

"How about stone-speak?" Hannah considered.

"Stone-speak is good." Harry replied. The others hissed in agreement.

"Divination?" Justin continued on.

"Idiot-speak." Melissa replied with a hissed laugh.

Harry's expression fell flat. "We're not calling it idiot-speak."

Melissa shrugged carelessly. "Eh, why not? Sounds right to me."

"I hear divination is a great class." Hannah encouraged. "My cousin really enjoyed it when she was in Hogwarts."

"Probably because it's an easy O class." Melissa replied. "But it's really not worth it, trust me."

Harry fixed her a look while trying to school his emotions. "Why would you of all people be against a class like that?"

The two stared hard at each other, and Harry's disbelief brought a wry smile to her face. "Harry, that professor is lucky to have made one proper prediction in her life to get hired. Everything else is just drunk ramblings or pretending to sound ominous for the sake of drama. The way I hear it, you can make up anything in that class and pass so long as it sounds like terrible news."

"Come on," Kevin interrupted, "you can't expect us to believe that a student can get marks by just making something up!"

"I can and it's true. That's the thing with divination, it can make y-'' Melissa's body twitched suddenly and violently. Her entire posture went upright and rigid. The others called out to her yet no answer came. They watched in surprised horror as her head and eyes rolled skyward. In a hoarse and chilling voice, she rasped aloud.

"The Ouroborus, chases immortality, straight into Death's jaw!"

At once the girl became silent, frozen with mouth agape. The others, too, were shocked into silence. Then, after slow seconds, Melissa blinked and her body loosened and returned to normal. She looked to the others, with their frightened and confused expressions. "Sorry, I had a bit of a headache. What was I saying?"

"You…" Kevin gulped. "Y-you just had a…"

The boy was entirely tongue-tied. The others, completely at a loss. It was almost too much for Melissa to bear. Cracking, her confused expression broke into stifled laughs. Then it broke completely as she laughed loudly. "Oh my god, you should see your faces!"

At once Harry's expression changed to outrage. "Melly!"

She started laughing harder, holding onto the edge of the desk as her body threatened to collapse. "Oh my god… HA! HA! HA!"

"Wait! Were you making that up?" Kevin exclaimed.

The question had her laughing harder. "You were… you were so sure…" She gasped between laughs. "Oh, wow, I can't believe that worked!"

"How?" Kevin was incredulous. "It sounded so real!"

"I really thought that was a prediction." Hannah added. "It sounded so… so…"

"Mystical?" Justin filled in.

"Yes, something like that." Hannah answered.

Melissa waved off the remark, her laughter slowly to chuckles. "That's why it worked so good!"

"Then what even was that?" Kevin asked.

"That?" She gave a wry grin. "I just spouted off a haiku I doodled in defence class."

"Oh, of course you did." Harry mumbled.

"It was pretty convincing, wasn't it?" She grinned at him.

He was none too pleased at her humour. "Terribly. You scared me there."

"Aww, poor little Harry scared by a prediction." She crooned. "You should be used to that by now, Mister Boy Who Lived."

"Oh, come off it!" He shoved her shoulder. The action caused her to lose her balance as well as her composure, as she continued laughing at their expense from the cold, stone floor.


Monday May 25, 1992

After an evening of studying at the library, Harry's trek back to the common room was interrupted by a whimpering sound from a nearby classroom. His pace slowed as he approached the classroom carefully. The sound of Quirrell's voice trembled from the room.

"All right, all right." The man sobbed. Harry had barely a second to comprehend what could bring the professor to sound so terrified when the door burst open right in Harry's face. The professor's eyes widened, his face was already pale in fright and his turban dishevelled, but it seemed that Harry's presence gave him another fright. "Oh my! Mister P-p-potter. I-I-I did n-not expect to s-see you here!"

Harry stepped back involuntarily. He already knew that the professor is a thief, and a devious one at that. Yet, to see him so afraid made Harry feel even more afraid at what could cause it. "Sorry, professor. It sounded like someone was hurt and I wanted to make sure they were okay. ...Are you okay?" He forced his voice to sound more sincere than he felt in his heightened fear.

Professor Quirrell's lower lip quivered, and the man took a shaky breath. "Why, Mister P-potter. That is… very gracious of you." His eyes darted to either side. Harry did so as well on instinct. They were all alone here. "I-I am afraid Mister Po-tter-" He took a strangled breath. His eyes closed momentarily, collecting himself. "...that I am not well."

Harry held himself in strict silence. Quirrell, oddly though, offered him an encouraging smile as he straightened his turban. "Come. Walk with me." He said in a way that barely hinted that it was a suggestion. Knowing the risks to decline, Harry mutely followed the man.

"I'm s-sure you know that my health is n-ot in the best st-ate." The man began. Harry nodded to him. It was well known throughout Hogwarts that his stuttering has gotten worse as of late, and his fainting and weakness spells moreso. "Th-the truth, Mister P-p-potter, is th-at I am dying."

Harry's eyes grew wide as he met the man's face. "Dying?"

"Y-yes." The man nodded. "It w-was n-not just a h-ag at-t-tack, dear b-boy. I-I'm afraid what I enc-countered is quite more fatal than that."

Harry suddenly felt nervous for a far greater reason. "I'm sorry, professor. I didn't know-"

"No one does." The man answered simply. "I w-would appreciate it if you would k-keep it that way."

"I will, professor." Harry nodded. Though if he would truly keep his word or not remained to be seen.

"Excellent!" The man lightly clapped him on the back, causing Harry to flinch. "So nice t-o g-get that off-f my chest! You are a g-good lad, Mister P-potter."

"Oh, I was just trying to-"

"N-now, now. Don't be mod-dest." The professor interrupted. "You are very kind and s-so very clever." The man preened, his eyes alight with new life. "I re-call Miss Mac-F-fusty speak about you l-last month. Clever, what you l-learned about t-th-that mirror. How ever d-did you come to dis-cover it?"

Harry chewed the inside of his lip nervously. That's what this is about. Of course it is. Harry has been avoiding the professor all month for this very reason. "Headmaster Dumbledore was hiding it in a classroom." He reasoned to the man. "I overheard him tell someone that he was moving it soon. It sounded important, like he needed it to hide something, so I figured it was part of what Corin and the others were looking for."

"Hmm… and w-why would you wish to help them, if the mir-ror belongs t-to the head-master?"

The lie came easy, because it isn't. "To be honest, professor, I don't think it matters that it belongs to the headmaster."

Harry could practically feel the thief's amusement radiate off his person. "Ah! Not a fan of the headmaster, are you, Mister P-potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. He's never exactly had my best interest in mind."

"No. I suppose not. You are w-ise to be so cautious, M-Mister Potter. T-terrible thing, what you went through." When they reached the door to the defence professor's room, he turned to Harry and gave the boy a knowing smile. "I read about your tr-trial. You're lucky, m-my boy. It's r-rare to have such loyal friends. ...To help you in y-y-your time of need. If only I could be so lucky for my own troubles. …Well, then, h-have a good night, Mister Potter." He walked through the door; yet kept his eyes locked to Harry's until the door fully closed between them.


The conversation with Quirrell kept Harry up that night. Thoughts of morality swirled through his mind. The man is a thief. One willing to put students in front of trolls to get what he wants. …But what he wants is to not die. Keeping the stone from him means condemning the man to death. Can he really do that? Could he let a man die just because he was trying to steal something that isn't his? Though, giving Quirrell the stone would mean that Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel would die, instead. Save one man, and condemn two to death. He can't do that, either.

What little sleep Harry managed to get resulted in twisted dreams where three people begged for mercy while he had the stone in a sling, only for Quirrell's turban to leap and strangle him, claiming it would live forever. Harry woke from that dream with his sheet wrapped around his neck, killing his desire to sleep the rest of the night. So it was in that groggy state which Harry carried to breakfast. He was so tired that he barely registered the note he received along with half his house yearmates and some Gryffindor third years.

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.


"At eleven o'clock?" Melissa asked in disbelief.

"Is what Weasley said." Domonkos shrugged. "I do not know why it is so late, but I imagine Filch enjoys to not be normal for detentions."

Melissa snorted. "He never is."

With a flick of her hand, the crystal rewound itself. "-gine Filch enjoys to not be normal for detentions." Another flick occurred. "-not be normal for-"

"Having trouble?" Jareth asked, draping himself over her shoulder.

Melissa continued to look at the orb with a furrowed brow. "Something's bothering me about this conversation. I just can't put my finger on it."

They watched another small rewind of the conversation. "Is your friend suggesting something nefarious?"

"No. It's…" She sighed, trying to formulate the thought. "It's like he's missing something. Or I'm missing something, but I just can't remember what it is."

"Well, if you're forgetting something, you're certainly in the right place to find it." Jareth pulled away from her side. With a swish of his cape, she heard him walk to somewhere further in the room. "Or perhaps you are not quite where you're supposed to be."

"What do you mean?"

She turned to look at him. The Goblin King stood at the stairwell, his knowing eyes drifting downward. "It's obvious, isn't it? You must go down."

Cautiously, Melissa returned the crystal to its stand and walked towards him. They looked downward to where the Slytherin common room resided. Though it was clear that he meant somewhere further than that. "I think… you may be right."

The man chuckled. "Well of course I'm right." She looked back at him, an insult waiting on the tongue. Rather than hear it, Jareth looked at her expectantly with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Well, go on then. Your dawdling will do you no good."

Melissa rolled her eyes. "At once, Your Majesty." She mocked. Yet she obliged and walked down the stairs. She went across the common room to a locked door. "Open." She hissed in parseltongue. The door opened and she walked on through.

She emerged into her London home. Its own set of crystals resting on pedestals in various rooms. "Had a bad day?" A high, Scottish male voice inquired from the music room.

"Just passing through!" She called out. Before the fabled man could emerge to start a conversation, Melissa whispered "Door d'or" to another door and fled through it. This time, she appeared inside of the hallway to the Chamber of Secrets. The orbs of memories lit her way down the corridor. Voices from inside the memories whispered, their secrets a hushed cacophony echoing across the damp walls. Still, she walked onward. At last, she made it to the stone doorway that led to the next room. "Roman-"

Click! Melissa froze where she stood. The metallic feel of a gun pointed at her skull. "River."

"Melissa." A female voice greeted her. Melissa could just make out the blonde woman's curls from her periphery. "You're not supposed to be here."

"There aren't rules against being in this room."

"The room, yes." The woman's voice was lightly scolding. "But not further. I'm supposed to keep people away, after all."

"Yes. Yes you are." Melissa answered hesitantly. The gun certainly made for a good deterrent. She even made sure the thing caused pain. Found out the hard way, unfortunately, about the dangers of mental traps on the physical body. But that's also what made River Song a good choice. "Unfortunately, I need to pass. I think Harry's in trouble, but I can't recall why." She turned slowly, facing River -and the gun- head on. "Please, River, this is important."

It took about eight seconds before the Time Lady retracted the gun. "All right, then. But if anyone tries to come in after you-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'm here alone." With a released breath, she turned back to the stone doorway. "Roman Centurion." The door groaned. One by one the snakes retracted and the door released. Melissa stepped through quickly, knowing that her time would get shorter and more dangerous the further she dove into her mind.


This is madness. Harry thought to himself as the centaur, Firenze, led his group back to Hagrid. That thing, whatever it was, had been drinking unicorn blood. It was a good thing that Fred and George had their shields up in time. Kevin and Oliver had bolted at the sight of the cloaked figure, but Harry had been so blinded by pain that he could barely move. Those shields and Firenze had been their lifesaver.

The night got wilder as Firenze began to tell the three of them about the properties of unicorn blood. How the drinker would be cursed for doing such a monstrous act. George ended up asking why would anyone do something so stupid, and Firenze told them of another liquid which could reverse the effects. When asked, Harry didn't answer if he knew what was hidden in the castle, nor did he ask who would do such a thing to a unicorn; because he already knew the answer to both of those questions.

Soon after, Hagrid came running towards them with the other detentionees in tow. Hagrid and Firenze and two other centaurs exchanged words and warnings, as the students looked in awe and worry over what had transpired. Harry stayed quiet for the most part, doing his best to shake off the nerves he felt along with keeping his answers away from listening ears.

When the centaurs departed, the group rushed through the forest to get back to the castle. All of them were now wary of the danger lurking in the forest, though Harry suspected that it, he, won't stay in the forest for long.

"Ahhh!" Oliver screamed in fear, shocking Harry from his thoughts. Harry quickly looked up ahead to see what the danger was as others began to scream at the sight.

In a twist of tree roots near the edge of the forest, Melly's body was splayed bloody in the dirt.