Last time...

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping, as other centaurs came rushing in.

"Firenze! What are you doing?" One demanded. "You have a human on your back! Have you no shame?"

"In'case you hav'n nnnoticed," Hera slurred, her voice taking on a sardonic drawl that sounded damned similar to Snape's own, barely conscious now. "this human is injured, an bleeding out ov'her face. So if you could get tha'stick out of your arse, that'd be great."

Chapter 6

"Hera Potter." the other centaur stated, in a gloomy voice. "Mars is unusually bright tonight."

"It does'zat when a war's on the horiz'n." Hera grumbled, getting a bit snippy as she was trying to hang on to consciousness.

Both centaurs looked at her in surprise, having not expected her to know that.

"You are more than you appear to be." The first realized, before looking to Firenze. "Get them out of here. Foals of Hogwarts are forbidden from being in this forest."

"Talk to Hagrid. It was his idea." Hermione insisted, indignant and defensive of her friend.

"Very well. We will have words with him." He agreed, before he and the other charged off.

She does not quite remember getting back to Hagrid, or the visit with the hospital wing, or Hermione helping her sneak out of the hospital wing to get back to Gryffindor Tower before Madam Pomfrey could catch them; at least not clearly. What she does remember is the look in Hagrid's eyes, how guilt ridden he'd been when he saw how hurt she was. A part of her hoped this was enough to remind him that there was a difference between what he thought was dangerous, and what was actually dangerous to everyone else. Ron had stayed up waiting for them, which was unnecessary but nice. When she sags into her own bed, she dreams of going to another school, and taking all her newfound friends with her.

Her scar hurt all the time now, even during exams. That everyone wanted to go outside afterwards wasn't too bad though. It was hot enough to be bordering between painful and pleasant, with the cool breeze complimenting it nicely. Hermione had been going over their answers, because that's how she winds down. Ron just has flashbacks about how bad he thinks he did, especially as Hermione continued on, but both assure him that he's been studying enough. He'd been doing good once he realized just how much he'd started leaning on Hermione for her brain.

"Did we ever figure out who was after the stone?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Nope." Hera admitted with a pop, her head laying on Hermione's legs like they were a pillow. "Took care of it though."

"Hera Potter, you did not 'take care' the philosopher's stone!" Hermione huffed, sitting up from her sunning spot.

"I sort of did, on accident…over Christmas break." Hera admitted, her eyes still closed, and then proceeded to explain the events of the mirror.

"I can't believe you told Nicolas Flamel to keep people's hands out of his unmentionables." Hermione exclaimed, scandalized, chuckling under her breath.

"So let me get this straight. You've been sitting on the perfect prank for Snape all this time?" Ron asked, as if personally offended.

"Professor Snape, Ron."

"It's not Snape…" Hera replied with a smile. "…but yes."

"You two do this on purpose."

Hera doesn't even have to open her eyes to know that Hermione is still smiling at them.

"Think we should tell Dumbledore?" Ron asked, thoughtfully.

"Nah. He'll be gone till tomorrow anyway." Hera shrugged. "Heard the portraits talking about it."

"Then whoever it is that wants the stone is going to try tonight." Hermione concluded. "We should go, at least to see who it is."

"But the stone's not there anymore." Hera objected pitifully, just this shy of whinging.

"They don't know that though." Ron pointed out. "It's perfect."

"Wow, you were right." Hera remarked in mild amusement, as she watches a sleeping Fluffy. "Hagrid can't keep a secret to save his arse."

There was a self playing harp nearby to keep Fluffy asleep. The trapdoor was already open, leading down to a pitch black state. She wasn't sure, but it looked…leafy?…Without hesitation, she takes a run and go, and canon ball jumps into the pit. It was a soft landing, and one by one, the others jumped in as well.

"Okay, so there may be a slight problem with my 'Jump right in' plan." Hera admits when she gets a good look around. "Anyone know what this is, because I've got nothing."

"There's no wood." Ron grumbles. "Honestly."

"Oh, shut it, Ron." Hermione snaps, more embarrassed than anything else.

"Are we trying to be subtle or no?" Hera asks thoughtfully, staring at the locked door across the room.

"I think we're past subtle." Hermione shrugged. Ron nodded in agreement.

"Alright, you two prepare to cast Protego; one in front, one above." Hera decided.

"Uh…Why?" Ron asked, but Hera was already casting.

"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" She shouted, pointing her wand at the door.

Both Ron and Hermione cast protego automatically. Pieces of wood flew everywhere, some big enough that it would have killed them had they not cast the shield charms they had. Of course, this is when the keys revolt, and start swooping down. Hermione's shield above them held as they ran across the room. Ron whirled around just as Hermione ended the protego charm.

"Arresto Momentum!" With his spell, the keys just sort of hover there, and the girls just look at him in shock. "What? You two agreed on not being subtle."

"That's a fourth year spell." Hermione points out, sounding impressed.

"So's that boomy one." Ron feels the need to point it, before looking horrified at what he'd just said. "That's it. You two are a bad influence. I'm reading when I get bored. I'll turn into Percy at this rate."

"Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess-"

"We're not offended. I'm not offended. You?"

"Nope. Not offended. Completely unoffended."

"Look at us, being all unoffended."

Hera takes the place of knight, Ron got the bishop, and Hermione the castle. Ron directs them with confidence, but they all still jump when the first knight gets sacrificed. Hera secretly wants to blast this one too, but Ron is really in his element here, and she doesn't want to take it from him. They take as many of the white pieces as they can, darting around the chessboard. The game seems to pause though, when Ron hesitates, and the white queen is staring at her.

"Oh." Hera murmurs, when she realizes why.

"Hera, I can't…I can't think of another move." Ron looks like this is eating him with guilt, and now she really wished she'd just blown the board to smithereens.

"Will that leave you free to checkmate the king?" She asks. Ron grimaced, but nods. "I'll be fine. Do it."

"NO!" Hermione cried in anguish.

"Oh, it's not going to kill me." Hera insists, dismissively. "It'll just wallop me up some. I'll be fine. Had worse with the Dursleys. Besides, it's not like we're in a hurry. I can take a nap via white knight."

"Did we win?" Hera asked groggily, when they woke her up.

"Yeah, but Hermione might never forgive us." Ron replied in a snarky manner, but even so he looked relieved.

"You two are going to give me a heart attack, I just know it." Hermione declared. "After this, it's off Madam Pomfrey for you."

"Oh dear God, it's words." Hera grumbled, upon seeing the writing, leaning into Ron. "I can't do words right now. My head hates everything. Mione?"

"Give me a minute." The girl replies, fondly. She loves a good logic puzzle.

"There's only enough for one though." Hera frowned at the little bottle. "Maybe it refills itself?"

"Has to be."

"Which one's the wine?" Hera asks suddenly, having an idea. "I'm gonna need alcohol for this."

Hermione points to one, but doesn't have time to ask why Hera needs it before the girl is taking a swig straight from the bottle.

"Hera!" Hermione scolds.

"What?" Hera asked, coughing lightly, with an air of innocence. "I thought I'd get an early start on that drinking problem I plan to have."

Hermione was not amused, though Ron did a passable job at hiding that he was.

"Relax. This stuff tastes awful. Why do adults like this? I just figured it would help with my head. On the list of stupid decisions, this one is on the low end." Hera insists flippantly, before taking another swig of wine and then the potion. She's through the flames before they can think to stop her.

Quirrell, and wasn't that a surprise, was running around picking up what looked like copies of that grubby stone she'd sent back to Flamel. There were thousands of grubby little stones everywhere. Every so often, Quirrell would argue with himself, replying with voices that did not sound like his own. He stopped when he saw Hera just standing there with her eyebrow arched at him. He looked indignant at how unimpressed she seemed to find all this.

"I'm not going to lie. I was expecting better." Hera admitted, leaning against the wall. "Professor McGonagall would make a better villain than you."

"She is nothing compared to-"

"Are you kidding me? She'd be perfect. Stern. Intimidating. Precise. She could take over the world if she just glared at it hard enough like it had disappointed her." She assessed, then tilted her head to regard him. "You look weird without a turban."

She was not expecting the face on the back of his head.

"See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I share another's body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…"

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off by her laughter.

"Mate, you look like you lost a 'got your nose' contest with a baby!" Hera wheezed as she laughed, before quickly dodging the curse Quirrellmort sent her way. "Wait, you did! With me! I'm the baby!" Another curse to dodge.

"Is that what's in my scar? I really hope I don't have your nose lodged in my forehead like some sort of absorbing twin situation." Another curse to dodge.

"How do you like Dandruff?" Another curse to dodge.

"What do you do when you have an itch? Do you just have him scratch the back of his head for your face?" Dodge.

"Do you realize the Weasley twins have been pelting your face with floating garlic pods and snowballs?"

"Kill her! Kill her, and be done with it!"

Hera wasn't sure what to do. It happened so fast. Quirrell charged her, instead of flinging another curse, and she was too close to reach for her wand or cast anything. When he grabbed her, she reacted without thought. Hauling back, she put her entire body into the punch she landed close to his heart. There was a cracking sound, and Quirrell stopped moving, blinking in shock for a moment before he fell. Hera's vision swam, and then she was falling too.

She wakes up slowly, blinking in confusion. It was possible that hit to the head did more damage than she'd previously thought. Wait, could wine make you hallucinate? Was this a hang over? That looked like Madam Pomfrey staring down at her in clear disapproval. Then again, Hermione had threatened her with Madam Pomfrey. Surely she hadn't meant it…or, Hera realized as Madam Pomfrey's face became clearer and she could see the stern disapproval on her face, she had. Oh, dear.

"We've got to stop meeting like this, you know." Hera remarks, but Madam Pomfrey's expression doesn't change. Just how much trouble is she in?

"You have severe head trauma, Miss Potter." Madam Pomfrey scolded.

"How's Quirrell?" Hera asked, closing her eyes against the headache she could feel coming on.

Maybe that was the hangover? Had she drank enough for that? Was two swigs enough for that at her age? She wanted to ask, but that would lead to admitting to underage drinking, and she had a feeling she was already in trouble enough as it was. Best not to add anything more to the table for now, just in case.

"Dead." The matron explained pointedly. "Somehow, he was hit so hard that a piece of rib broke off and impaled his heart. I should quite like to know how you did that. Also, his hands were completely black from frostbite. Your friends brought you up, and the Headmaster investigated the scene to confirm their story."

"Am I going to get expelled for murdering a professor?" Hera asked, already sleepy once more. "Does it count as murder if it was in self defense? He had a second face on the back of his head. I'm pretty sure it was Voldesnort. I can't believe that people are afraid of a man so desperate to cling to life that he was willing to deal with Quirrell's dandruff. Who does that?"

"Just five minutes." Hera pleaded. Madam Pomfrey was a wonderful woman, kind and patient, and very strict.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Dumbledore in…"

"That was the Headmaster, quite different. You need rest."

"I am resting. Look, in a bed and everything. This pillow is so fluffy. Please…"

"Oh, very well," she relented. "But five minutes only."

Hera couldn't help but grin in triumph, amused when Madam Pomfrey tried to look all the more stern for her acquiescence, bustling from her bed while muttering about that Potter trademarked smirk. Ron and Hermione rushed into the room, both eager to make sure she was alright. It was strange to have such concern turned towards her, but she relished it. They listened attentively to her tell what happened in the last room, laughing when they too realized what the twins had inadvertently done. Someone would have to tell them later.

Hagrid stopped by sometime later, crying that it had been his fault. It hadn't been, not really. The trap had been too well set for her for it to have been his fault. Dumbledore may have thought he was doing her a favor by letting her face the man who murdered her family, but did it count as murder if you're in a war? Hera didn't know, and didn't feel it was something she should try to tackle at such a young age. There were fully grown adults who couldn't answer that question; Dumbledore had been one such adult. Besides, even if it were, there were plenty of other people who probably deserved the revenge more than she did.

The sobbing half giant had tried to apologize numerous times, which she refused to accept. Really, none of it had been malicious towards her. He could try and do better about secret keeping going forward, if he really wanted to apologize, but she held no ill will towards him. She hadn't been prepared for the photo album he'd spent days working on. She hadn't even been able to thank him, unable to speak as she touched the photographs of her parents and their friends. Thankfully, he'd understood.

The Great Hall became almost silent for a moment when she entered for the feast. Hera smiled gratefully, seeing her friends wave her over enthusiastically. The entire room was decked out in Slytherin colours, but she couldn't be bothered to care. With her friends around her, it was hard to care about much. They had helped her survive the year, and she was already looking forward to what could happen next year.

"Another year!" Dumbledore exclaimed cheerfully. "What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…"

The man states what the points are, that the house cup needs awarding, but something isn't right…Why does she have a sinking feeling about this?

"First – to Ronald Weasley…"

Oh, he was not.

"…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award…"

Oh, but he was.

Gryfindor cheered, but Hera was beginning to feel sick. This was awful. He couldn't really mean to be doing this, right? She'd wanted to win, but if this was the cost, she wasn't sure she wanted to pay it. Ron looked so happy though…

"Second – to Hermione Granger…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award…"

This wasn't right…it wasn't…

but could she take it from them?…

"Thirdly – to Hera Potter…"

Oh no. No, no, no.

"…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award…"

Please, no…

"There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore continued when the cheering died down. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

No, she couldn't…She wouldn't let him do this.

"How dare you." They hear once Dumbledore had changed the colours of the decorations in the room, and they look to see Hera standing in the middle of the room. Strange that she'd spoken so quietly, and yet her voice had boomed throughout the room.

"Albus?" Minerva hesitantly inquired.

"Accidental magic." Albus mused. "Has to be."

"How dare you steal this from them just because I had to go see what stupid trap you'd set!"

Oh. So she'd figured that out?

"They earned it by being cunning, and not getting caught breaking rules like I did." She growled. "How dare you steal this from them, to try and buy Gryffindor's loyalty by rewarding my friends and I for breaking the rules again. I risked my life! For nothing! For amusement! And you want to reward us for that?!"

"Hera, I suggest you sit back down." Albus placated, as she slowly stalked towards them.

"I will not. What you just did is unsportsmanlike, and wrong, and what's worse is that you know it." She replied scathingly. "The only points that should even count are Neville's, because he'd been standing guard duty in the common room, trying to make sure no one snuck out and lost us more points. An acknowledgment that we cleaned up your mess would have been sufficient."

"Have a care how you speak to your Headmaster, Potter." Severus warned.

"Then tell me I'm wrong." She countered, glaring at him now. "Tell me that isn't exactly what he's doing."

The man glared, but said nothing.

"Though her delivery is a bit…lacking in manners, perhaps I was a bit hasty in awarding points, and a simple acknowledgment of her efforts to contain Quirinus before I could return would have been enough." Albus allowed, as he watched her. "Very well, upon further consideration, the previous points stand, with the exception of Mr. Longbottom. While not enough to win the house cup, it is commendable, and worth mentioning."

The decorations returned to Slytherin colours.

"Do not think this wins you any points with me, Potter." Severus quietly warned.

"Then it's a good thing I didn't do it for you, isn't it." She quipped, before chancing a look at Gryffindor, and sighing. "They're gonna hate me for this."

"Probably." Minerva replied fondly. "Your mother had much the same sense of fair play. She would be proud."

"Did that just happen?" Blaise whispered next to Draco. He couldn't react, which was just as well, because Potter was all of a sudden standing in front of him.

"Potter, what are you playing at?" He manages.

"I figure if I'm going to commit social suicide within Gryffindor House, I might as well do the thing properly." She shrugged. "I should have accepted your friendship right away when you offered. I was going to, but I just didn't want you to think I couldn't make my own decisions, and I didn't like that you were already belittling my very first friends. While we may never be friends, friendly rivals might be nice."

Draco narrowed his eyes for a moment, before reaching out his hand. "Draco Malfoy. How much do you know about wizarding culture?"

"Hera Potter." She reciprocated, shaking his hand. "Almost nothing. I bought a bunch of books, but I don't know how helpful they actually were. Care to teach me?"

"I'll owl you over the summer." Draco sighed, like it was such a bother. His father would be over the moon when he heard about this.

"About that." She grimaced. "I live with magic hating muggles? Owls might be a problem."

"You're a problem, Potter." Draco countered. She'd just snorted, grinned like a loon, and left for her table. He looked back to Blaise. "What just happened?"

"You just made a potential ally of Potter." Blaise replied, almost sounding impressed considering Draco had in no way engineered that. "That's what just happened."