Chapter 8

1992/ 2nd year

Gilderoy Lockhart came off as a bumbling moron, and yet the very first time he'd tried to talk to her, warning bells rang in her mind. Within five minutes of seeing her with the other members of her House, he'd singled her out, all but slamming the greenhouse door in Professor Sprouts face to separate them. The way he looked like a predator zeroing in on his prey when he saw her made Hera wonder if this is the sort of danger Mrs. Weasley warned her of, or if this was something more sinister, yet all the other students seemed to be enamoured with him. Even Hermione, who Hera viewed as more nonsensical than her, had her brains turned to mush at the sight of that ungodly white smile.

Professor Sprout had actually pulled her aside after class was over to make sure that she was alright. Assuring the woman she was fine, Hera took heart that at least the teachers hadn't lost their sanity. She must have sent a message up to Professor McGonagall, because the same thing happened after her class. Lunch was a relief, but she made sure to keep Lockhart and the exit within her sight, not wanting to be surprised. Letting the noise of conversations around her, Hera began piling her plate with food.

"What do we have this afternoon?" She asked, seeing that Ron and Hermione were about to start arguing again.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Hermione answered promptly.

"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

"I want you to watch yourself around him, Hermione. There's something off about him." Hera said softly, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"There is nothing wrong with him." Hermione huffed. "You're just being paranoid."

"Then why did he separate me from Professor Sprout?" Hera asked, making Hermione frown for a moment. "Why would he need to talk to me, alone, without an adult present? I felt uncomfortable, and even though I tried to hedge away from him, he cut off any chance of me escaping to class. Professor Sprout saw how uncomfortable I was, and rescued me, made sure I was okay after class."

"Really?" Hermione hesitated, fidgeting. She didn't want to think badly of a professor, not even Professor Snape who was disliked by almost everyone. "You think he's that bad?"

"As awful as the Dursleys treat me, they've never made me feel like that." Hera admitted.

"Maybe…Maybe it's nothing." Hermione hedged.

Hera sighed in defeat. "It could be nothing, but still…Please be careful, just to be on the safe side?"

Hermione nodded numbly, but Hera had very little hope of her heeding the warning.

"Uh…Hera…There's a kid staring at you." Ron whispered.

They'd gone outside after lunch, enjoying a bit of sun before the next class. Hermione was still nose deep in Voyages with Vampires, and so hadn't noticed. Hera looked up to see a very small mousy-haired boy holding what looked like an ordinary camera, though a bit more inclined towards professional photography. The moment he saw Hera looking at him, he went beet red, but by then it was too late. Hera had had an idea.

"Is that a professional camera?" She asks, gesturing to it.

"Yeah! My dad got it for me, because that's what I want to do when I grow up. I've decided." The boy insisted. "Hi, my name is Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor too."

"Hera Potter. It's nice to meet you." Hera greeted, shaking his hand. "Have you taken a picture of the castle yet?"

"No, but I plan on it." Colin replied, enthusiastically. "A boy in my dormitory said that if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures will move! Thought about taking a picture of the Whomping Willow for my dad."

The boy was holding his camera, looking more and more hopeful by the second, and Hera had a sneaking suspicion she knew where this was going.

"Say, could you…Once classes are over, could you take a picture for me? A friend got me a photo album, and I'd like to start adding to it, only I don't have a camera." Hera asked quietly. "Could you stop by the common room and take some pictures of me and my friends here? I could pay you, if you want. I imagine you'll need supplies if you want to go professional in the long run."

The boy looked like he might die of happiness at any moment.

"You would do that?" Colin asked, happily.

"Of course, I would." Hera replied earnestly. "Wizarding photography sounds wonderful. I can't wait to see what you do with it."

They say goodbye, and begin making their way back inside, when she turns around.

"It was nice meeting you, Colin!" She yells across the green. "Good luck with your photography!"

Colin waves, ecstatic, and rushes off to class. She turns back around to see Ron and Hermione looking at her in confusion.

"That boy's going to be famous one day, I just know it." Hera insisted. A little more quietly, she added. "I know what it feels like to have a dream crushed. He shouldn't have to experience that."

That evening, Colin takes pictures of them while they're laughing about the Pixie incident. Well, Ron and Hera were laughing. Hermione was stubbornly clinging to her books as if they were the ultimate authority, but even she smiled a little. He managed to get the entire Quidditch team too. As a special request, Hermione agreed to take a picture of him with Hera. He hadn't expected the Girl-Who-Lived to wrap an arm around him happily as if he were one of her closest friends, but he was ecstatic nonetheless. Later, he manages to catch her off guard and takes a picture of her playing chess with her friend Ron, and she wasn't even mad about it.

"I want a copy of that one too!" She'd called out with a grin.

"Can I come take pictures of the practice?" He asks, when he sees her the next morning.

"I don't think Oliver will appreciate that very much." Hera replied. She leans over and whispers. "I think he's paranoid the other teams will steal the moves from your photographs. Have you asked Professor McGonagall about taking pictures of the matches? He can't say anything against that. Ask if there's a news or photography club too. We should have something. If we don't, see if there's interest in one."

"I hadn't even thought of that!" He admitted, quickly writing down the idea, already excited about the possibilities.

He's not quite out of the room yet, when he hears one of the Weasley twins yawn. "Why are you so nice to that kid? He's always blinding people with that camera of his."

He was expecting laughter. He was expecting snide remarks. He was not expecting understanding.

"I know what it's like to have a dream crushed, Fred." She replied softly. "He shouldn't have to experience that."

He wonders what sort of dream the Girl-Who-Lived could have that was crushed, and then realizes all at once what she would want above all else. Oh. That's why she's encouraging his dreams. They're attainable. Hers never will be, because what she wants is her family back, and that's not the kind of dream she can achieve without dying too. She's made him her friend, and he isn't sure what kind of help he can actually give, but he'll try. She's helping him achieve his dreams. What more could a friend ask for?

October was upon them before they knew it, and with it a sort of chill fell over the air. Madam Pomfrey kept a steady stock of Pepperup potion for just this reason, as colds seemed to run rampant. Hera was having to take one after every practice, because heavy downpour of raindrops the size of bullets wasn't seen as an excuse to stop, and walked around for hours afterwards with steam coming out of her ears. Once she'd cast a few Tergio and scorgify charms to rid herself and the hallway of the mud, (it did pay to read as a hobby) she knew she'd be headed up to Madam Pomfrey's once more. It was on her way out of the entrance hall that she spotted Sir. Nick, completely engrossed in his muttering to himself…something about not qualified for the headless hunt…don't meet the requirements…forty five whacks, and half an inch of…oh!

"Baron!" He hears Potter call out as she bursts into the Great Hall, and of course she stalks right up to the Bloody Baron. "I have a question, if you'll permit it, Baron."

"For you, my dear? Of course!" The Baron replied, bowing low to her. Why would the Bloody Baron of all ghosts bow to Potter?!

"Can ghosts affect each other?" She asked earnestly. "A push? A slap? Things like that."

"Yes." The Baron replied after a moment. "May I ask why?"

"Sir Nick is bemoaning the fact that he's only nearly headless." Potter continued, not really answering the question.

"And?"

"You have the ghost of your sword with you." Potter stated, staring at the Baron pointedly. It was only a moment before the Bloody Baron was floating at top speed out of the Great Hall.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

thwack!

"That innocent look fools no one, Potter." Severus stated, having walked down the length of the Great Hall to where she was. "What did you do?"

"Me? Do? Nothing. Absolutely not a thing. I didn't do a thing, was standing here the whole time. Honest." She replied with a grin.

"Mr. Malfoy, as you are undoubtedly a witness to whatever scheme Potter has concocted, you should-"

The Bloody Baron floated back into the room, looking mighty smug.

"I believe you'll find the results satisfactory." He commented as he passed by.

"Still pleading innocence, Potter?" Severus drawled, looking down at her.

She was still grinning, only it was more pronounced now. "I never claimed to be innocent, Professor."

"Hera Potter! Oh, my dear, however will I thank you!" Sir Nick exclaimed as he too floated into the Great Hall…carrying his head in his arm…"Five Hundred Years, and I never once thought to ask for help from my fellows! Now I can participate in the Headless Hunt! Oh, you simply must come to the celebration of my 500th death day this Halloween."

"Can I bring a few friends?" Potter asked, intrigued. "I've never been to a Death day party before."

"Bring all the friends you like!" Sir Nick laughed boisterously, before floating off. "I can't wait to tell everyone!"

Potter grinned in that innocent manner he remembered all too well.

"Oh, Baron, if you ever need anything, let me know." She called out, before running off.

"Colin! Do you think you would need anything special to take pictures of ghosts?" Hera asked, as she plopped down next to him, and began piling a plate for herself. "I just got invited to Sir. Nick's 500th Death day party this Halloween, and if that's not a photo opportunity, I don't know what is."

"I can ask Professor Flitwick after class." Colin agreed readily. "Do you think they'll have food we can eat there?"

"I doubt it." Hermione interjected, having quickly moved places to sit closer to them. "Not many living people get invited to these parties. I read about them once."

"We should definitely see about bringing food with us then. I doubt they'll mind." Hera suggested. "Maybe Fred and George will tell me where the kitchens are."

"Would you mind if I brought someone with me? Her dad works for a newspaper, and she'd be interested in writing an article for it." Colin suggested.

"Nick will love that." Hera nodded.

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" Ron asked, plopping down in a seat across from Hermione. "Also, why are we sitting with the midgets?"

"You are one year older than these midgets." Hera scolded, a small smile on her lips. "It's not their fault you steal all their food." She looks around to them, and gestures back to Ron. "This is what happens when you eat all your vegetables. Look at him. So high up."

"Why aren't you taller then?" A first year she didn't recognize asked.

Hera sighed, and looked down at her own plate, which was suspiciously lacking in vegetables. "He ate all my mine."

The solemn moment held for a fraction of a second, and then there was snickering all around them.

"I'm bored."

For some odd reason, no one registered the dangerousness of those words. As they were said by one Hera Potter, perhaps they should have paid a bit closer attention to them. Fred and George Weasley see the opportunity for what it is, and exploit it posthaste. They teach her how to pick locks, and then challenge her to sneak into Filch's office and bring back proof of her exploits. She simply grinned before disappearing under the invisibility cloak.

Getting to Filch's office was not hard, and the lock was easy to get into. He'd be dealing with dungbombs all day courtesy of Peeves, who may have been bribed with a case of them…or several. In her old school, the stuff that got confiscated was always locked in one of the lower drawers, and she found out this was true here too. The drawer marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous was easy to spot, not so easy to break into; as it turns out, there was a top part that was a shield cover for the drawer which was also locked. Knowing she was running out of time till Filch got back, she did the only thing she could think of, and took the whole drawer. She had a good enough handle on transfiguration now that she could create a new one, and left it at that.

"You…the whole drawer…" Fred managed, sounding strangled.

"Even we never managed…" George couldn't seem to grasp it either.

"The whole drawer…" Fred repeated, like he was still trying to grasp at it.

"Well, you said you wanted evidence, and I couldn't pick the lock in time." Hera huffed, indignant. "What else was I supposed to do?"

Fred and George looked at each other, knowing full well that they would have bolted without the evidence, and taken their lumps accordingly. That thought had apparently not crossed Hera's mind. She'd found a way to bring the whole damn drawer with her instead. Why hadn't Filch noticed? Anyone would notice a whole drawer missing.

"I transfigured him a new drawer, and took this one." She continued, and then held up the drawer again. "What do you think is in here? I did good, right?"

"You transfigured a new drawer?"

"What? Like it's hard?" She shrugged.*

The two look at each other in silent conversation, and then all but fell on their knees before her, bowing as they cried as one. "We are not worthy! We are not worthy!"

She took one look at them, eyebrow arched as she tried to absorb what they weren't saying, before turning to leave. "Boys are weird. Oh, and I'm keeping this."

With that, she ducked under the invisibility cloak, and made her way to her own room. They had no doubt she would be able to open that drawer, given time, and could only imagine the treasure trove of pranking supplies within. They'd asked her to do that on a lark, not thinking she would actually succeed. The Weasley twins had expected her to fail, but she'd said she was bored, and so they'd given her a challenge. Instead, she'd unknowingly presented them with her own, and it was one they fully intended to accept…as soon as they figured out what it was.

AN: * Legally Blonde quote, because the plot bunnies though it'd be funny