Last time...

"I like your turnip earrings. Did you make those?"

"I can teach you to make your own, if you like." Luna offered, happily.

"Really?" Hera asked, excitedly. Luna nodded. "Wicked!"

Chapter 12

By the time that everyone was sorted, it had made the rounds that Hera had grabbed hold of a Dementor. Most surprisingly, she didn't glare at her friends first when she heard it. She glared at Lupin, and only upon seeing his hands raised in surrender did she glare at Ron, who was down the ways from her. The boy didn't even realize he was in trouble, even though he was currently talking about the thing she hadn't wanted anyone to make a big deal of, until Neville pointed it out to him. The boy paled upon seeing that she was angry at him, looking sort of molted and confused. Hera just rolled her eyes, and went back to her food; if Ron didn't realize why she was mad at him, he deserved everything he was gonna get. Maybe she would consult with his brothers for ideas.

The next day, while Ron was wondering at Hermione's schedule, Hera secretly grinned. She was just glad he hadn't seen her schedule too. Hermione wasn't the only one attempting this, and the two had had to swear not to misuse the chance. The two girls had decided not to team up to tackle the time together, as they would drive each other insane trying to deal with the others ways of doing things. Excited for Hagrid's first class, which would explain the biting book, Hera looked forward to seeing what he would do; even as they hoofed it all the way to the Divination tower.

Hera internally chuckled with unholy glee when they got to Divination. As soon as she saw Hermione's eye twitch, she knew. Divination tapped into a part of the mind Hermione didn't really grasp, which was strange considering she was a witch and all. Divination tapped into instinct, gut feelings, imagination, and belief. The Norns spoke through the weave to those open enough to hear them, and Hermione depended on things she could verify through hard facts, perhaps even more viciously because of what happened last year. It had come out that Lockhart had stolen all those stories from others, and embellished them beyond belief; though whether the spell was broken by his death or some other means, no one knew. Hermione would not be open enough to hear the Norns, should they try speaking to her.

"Professor." Hera called, after Professor Trelawney was through detailing the years schedule for them. "What about loom weaving? Will we be covering that this year?"

"Loom weaving to portray the future before it unfolds has been out of mainstream practice for a number of years now, Miss Potter, but should you be interested, we can see about a side project for you." Professor Trelawney explained, looking pleasantly surprised. "5 points to Gryffindor for your foresight, and research into the subject."

The more Hera talked with the professor, even through the disaster of a tea reading from Ron, the more scandalized Hermione began to look. Here was a subject Hera was more vocal on, one that Hermione had instantly dismissed as woolly nonsense before they'd even gotten to class, and Hera could see the girl already warring with her desire to be taken seriously verses her desire to be the best at everything. What made it worse was Hera didn't sound vapid about it the way Lavender did. The more questions she asked, the more Trelawney took her seriously, and when the woman predicted her death, Hera just shrugged. She nearly almost died at least three times a year, and that was before she'd even started going to school at Hogwarts.

Hera made sure to keep Hermione from becoming mutinous over the subject though. She wasn't so good with numbers and probabilities, but could see how that would appeal to Hermione's love of order. Once Hermione realized the two subject stemmed from the same thing, just different takes of it, it went better. She agreed to help Hera with the math of Arithmancy, and Hera agreed to help Hermione with learning to listen to her magic. The core of Divination at this level was mostly instincts and listening to what a person's magic told them, to love the wonder of it, but the prep-work would serve their later classes well; even Potions.

Hagrid's first class the next day actually went well…sort of. No one had been able to stop their books from trying to eat them, not even Hera, so no one had been able to read them. They'd all been bound, and Hagrid had looked crestfallen upon realizing no one had figured out how to open them. In hindsight, it was funny, but it wasn't something he should have attempted without a warning. The man simply didn't perceive danger in the same way as the rest of them.

The hippogriffs were beautiful, with the hindquarters of a horse, and the head and wings of a giant eagle; the front legs even had talons! Hagrid went over how to take care when dealing with them, that they offended easily; something Malfoy should have paid attention to, but didn't. There was no way Hera was going to miss out on a chance to fly. Buckbeak was gorgeous! So she went through the steps; intent stare, low and regal bow, and waited. The flight itself, indescribable, the most freedom she'd ever felt when not flying on her own broom, and over far too soon.

It happened in a flash. Malfoy had taken over Buckbeak, who had bowed to him, but the creature reacted badly to the condescension coming out of the boy's mouth. Hera wasn't even aware she'd done it, vaulting towards Malfoy before he could even finish his sentence, grabbing him by the back of the collar, and jerking the idiot boy back just in time for it to slam down its talon to catch at her left arm which was raised in an effort to shield them from the blow. Everyone was still in a state of shock when she made a fist with her other hand, and socked that hippogriff in the face. What was more surprising was that the force of it actually caused Buckbeak to take a step or two back in disorientation.

"No!" Hera growled, pointing at Buckbeak when he made to charge again, causing the creature to pause. "You are a proud and noble beast! This is not how you are supposed to behave!"

His chirpy response even sounded indignant.

"Of course he insulted you! He's an idiot! You know better!" She snapped angrily. "Now get back to your paddock, and think about what you just did!"

Petulantly, Buckbeak did as ordered, glaring at Malfoy every so often as he went.

"Uh,…Hera?" Ron murmured hesitantly.

"Yes, Ron?" Hera asked, looking over to her friend who was slowly making his way over to her like she was some kind of wounded animal.

"We might want to…go to Madam Pomfrey,…now that you're through…telling off a hippogriff,…you know…" He trailed off, looking a bit pale, gesturing to her vaguely. "…to see about your arm."

She looked down at said arm, and realized he was right. It was bleeding all over the place. How had she not felt that? Shock? Hagrid looked beside himself, more pale than she'd ever seen him, and it suddenly dawns on her what she'd just done. Oh dear, she'd punched a hippogriff! Malfoy was staring at her with wide eyes from his strewn position on the ground, his hair and clothes all askew, but he wasn't the only one staring. The entire class was staring at her in shock. She numbly went back to looking at her arm.

"Huh." She murmured, and then started snickering. "Hey, Ron…Ron…Who wants to tell Professor McGonagall I punched a hippogriff in the face?!"

"Le's get yeh inside, Hera. Goin' inter shock, yeh are." Hagrid insisted, gently, after seeing that the other hippogriffs had followed after Buckbeak. "Malfoy owes yeh a life debt fer tha', I suspect. Magic'll know. Come along now. Class dismissed!"

"Hermione?" Hera inquired, as she looked to her friend. "My things?…class?"

"I'll handle it." Hermione promised.

"Oh…good…" Hera nodded, and then promptly passed out.

Even after hearing about the incident with the Dementor on the train, none of the professors were prepared to see Hagrid carrying Hera Potter into the school with a bleeding arm. She looked so small, but Hagrid was looking at her with a mixture of concern and hero worship. It was expected, of course, that Hagrid take her to the infirmary. The professors watched on in shock, and it isn't until the man is gone that they can even think to move. Some of the students from the class are trailing in at this point, and Minerva makes to stop one of them.

"Mr. Weasley, would you mind explaining to me what happened to Miss Potter?" She asked, with as much professionalism as she could muster to mask her worry.
"Oh, nuthin much, Professor." The boy replied absentmindedly, his eyes tracking Hagrid more than he was paying attention to her. "She just rescued Malfoy by punch'n a hippogriff in the face."

"Oh." Minerva managed to get out. "Is that all?"

The boy nodded, and then made for his next class. No doubt he would be visiting the infirmary before too long. Despite how quick to anger he was, and his talking about things his friends wanted to keep quiet, the boy was a good friend. Minerva took a bracing breath, and went to impart what she'd learned with the others. Apparently, it was going to be that kind of year.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a problem; Hera Potter. She had always defied expectations, he knew. The day he'd held her in his arms, he'd known she'd survived a killing curse, defying the odds, and becoming the key needed to defeat Voldemort; knew what that meant for her once she was grown, what with the prophecy and all, never mind that pesky pronoun business. When he placed her with the Dursleys to strengthen the blood wards that had been born of Lily's sacrifice, he'd known what he was leaving her to, knew that she would not know the love of family there. He'd expected her to return to the wizarding world a broken little thing, but she'd had a strength in her eyes he wasn't even sure he himself possessed.

She'd ruined his well thought out trap that first year, breaking the mirror, and returning the stone to Nicolas. He still didn't know what she saw, as the girl was a natural-born occlumens, a gift that was so rare it was practically unheard of. Quirrell still went through the obstacles, thinking the stone was on the other side. Though Albus had cautioned Nicolas that this was a sign the stone needed to be destroyed, he was told off with a simple 'Keep your hands to your own unmentionables, Albus', and that was that. Rewarding the girl and her friends for their efforts had backfired, not just with her, but with the House he'd tried to take the Cup from as well.

Her second year had seen the introduction of Lockhart, a decision no one on his staff had agreed with. He'd been attempting to rid the DADA position of the curse for years, but so far his attempts had ended in failure. Involving Curse Breakers meant involving Gringotts and the Ministry, and his own stubborn pride refused to yield to that. The curse seemed to be getting more tenacious, what with Lockhart vanishing halfway through the year, though Albus still wasn't sure how. It had certainly made it hard to find teachers, knowing that the position might kill them or make them disappear to parts unknown.

Finding out that Pettigrew was alive, having been living as a rat in the Weasley family for over a decade, had been quite the shock. Finding out that this made Sirius Black innocent threw a wrench in his already well laid plans; while he hadn't pushed to put the man into Azkaban, he'd certainly not objected to the lack of an actual trial either. He needed Hera to stay with the Dursleys, weak though the blood wards still were; which was a source of consternation, now that he thought about it. They really should be stronger by now. Surely it was only proximity that the wards needed and not actual emotional bonds, or had he miscalculated?

If Black was cleared officially, and allowed to take custody of Hera, his control over her would be gone. She was already headstrong, and if she was shown what a loving family could be like, he'd lose her for good. A child that had known love all their lives might not sacrifice themselves, too willing to cling to the love they'd always known. A child that had known neglect and pain would, upon finding a love to fight for, give up everything to save it. He needed her to trust him, to love him, so that when the time came to sacrifice herself, she wouldn't hesitate.

It's why he'd allowed Dolores to station Dementors along the school grounds, even knowing Black was innocent, hoping that Hera would fear what she did not know. He should have realized by now that that wasn't how things were going to work out; because she didn't trust him, didn't love him, and only treating him with the respect due his station as the Headmaster of the school she attended. He had not taken much time to speak with her, as he realized now that he should have. She would not feel the loyalty her parents had for him. She had nothing to base it on.

The stories of how she'd grabbed a Dementor to stop it from going after her friends were too wild to be believed. He realized when she'd been carried in gently by Hagrid, blood dripping everywhere, that he should have given them more credence. Minerva had come back with yet another impossible to be believed story, but the proof of it had been dripping all over the floor. Hera had punched a hippogriff in the face to save a Malfoy. Now Hera stood before him in barely suppressed fury, her arm still in a wrap, as he tells her she can not go to Hogsmeade due to the danger the situation with Black and the Dementors presented.

"I am afraid that, as your magical guardian, I can not allow it." Albus had stated, exuding grandfatherly concern. Her entire body stilled at his words, which was the only warning he got, and one he ignored without a thought to recognizing it for what it was.

"You declare it then? Officially? In front of witnesses?" She asked suddenly. He really should have asked what she'd meant by that. Of course, her Head of House would be here, though Severus was as well.

"Of course!" Albus insisted benignly.

At that moment, a single folded bit of parchment appeared before his eyes, gently floating down till it landed on his desk, which he picked up hesitantly. It was a summons, to answer charges being brought against him by Gringotts; dereliction of duty and breach of contract, quite serious offenses in the Wizarding World. He looked from the parchment to Hera, and back again. Perhaps, he mused, James had named his daughter a little too well. It seems her trips to Gringotts had been far more informative than he would have liked, and now he had another problem. As her magical guardian, it should have been his responsibility to educate her on her magical heritage and duties as Heiress Potter, and he had passed that off in favor of the Greater Good. It was going to take quite a lot of fancy footwork to get out of this.

"If that will be all, Professor, I'll see myself out." Hera remarked, and promptly turned a heel and walked out of the office.

Remus Lupin had been trying to talk to Hera all of term with little success. It bothered him that the child of his best friend would shy away from him, but then again it wasn't as if she knew him. He'd stayed away, ashamed that he'd not been there when it mattered. When one of her friends, a Miss Hermione Granger, explained that Gilderoy Lockhart had tried to use any excuse he could to use Hera for her fame, and Quirrell had tried to kill her outright at the end of her first year…well, it certainly explained a lot. He still didn't know what to think about the incident with the Dementors, or the fact that she had punched a hippogriff in the face; James would be laughing, rolling around in his grave like a hyena, if he knew.

That she had somehow managed to clear Sirius Black while revealing that Peter Pettigrew was still alive, astounded him. She was smart, and fiercely loyal to her friends; Lily would be so proud. However, she seemed slightly…apart…even from her friends, something else that had been explained to him. The school had ostracized her for an ability to speak parseltongue, and she hadn't taken it well. According to Miss Granger, Hera was still coming to terms with what she felt was a betrayal. After all, finding out that your newfound friends can turn on you so easily must have been quite the shock.

"Miss Potter, I am glad you finally decided to speak with me." Lupin stated, upon seeing her hesitate in the doorway. "Please, have a seat. Do you know why I've been trying to talk with you?"

"First professor wanted to kill me, second wanted to use me to boost his fame." Hera admitted sheepishly, after she'd sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "I just assumed you would be along the same vain. Sorry, Professor."

"I knew your parents in school. We were the best of friends then." Professor Lupin revealed, expecting an eager child hoping to hear more about her parents. Instead, he got a cold blank stare.

"Oh. You're one of those." Hera drawled coolly, sounding like a damn close impression of Severus. She didn't know that the man himself had stepped in not long after she had sat down, or that the man was now arching his eyebrows so high in shock that they had both disappeared into his hair. "Pity. Out of all of my mother and father's closest friends, not one of them thought to check up on me at the Dursleys. If they were such. Good. Friends. of my mother, surely they would know what her sister is like. But you show up here, after more than a decade of my life has gone, and expect me to be all smiles and eager for stories? I think I shall pass, Professor. Thank you, but no thank you."

She was gone with barely a word to the professor that had followed her in, just a nod, and a mumbled. "Professor." as she passed.

Because Hera made it a point to visit the Dementors when she could, they did not take to swarming the Quidditch pitch whenever there was a game. They lost this last match though, and she knew she should not have played with her arm still in a wrap, what with Madam Pomfrey fussing at her. Oliver was beside himself with grief and thoughts of more Quidditch practice, while Diggory had complimented her flying. Halloween passed with barely a notice, and Christmas was closing in fast. She'd gone to Hogsmeade with her friends, despite Dumbledore's protests or Professor MCGonogall's taking of House Points, and had completely forgotten that she was having a stalker problem…until two arms draped themselves across her shoulders from opposite sides.

"Gred, Forge, how lovely to see you." Hera remarked airily, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't this just darling?"

"They grow up so fast, don't they, Gred?" Fred asked, looking to George.

"They do indeed, Forge." George replied, grinning down at her now, before his expression turned more serious. "You've been disappearing a lot, Hera."

"We didn't say anything last year, because you needed an escape." Fred continued.

"But you've continued this year, and we're concerned." George admitted before she could get angry.

"That's why you've been following me?" Hera realized, looking to the two of them. "You're worried? About me?"

"Yes, worried. About you." Fred snorted.

"What kind of question is that?" George asked, grasping at his chest dramatically.

"It's like she doesn't love us!" Fred exclaimed, throwing a hand over his eyes.

"Alright, you two, what gives?" Hera snorted at their antics.

In an old abandoned classroom, they explain the Marauder's Map. Use the correct phrase, and you can track anyone in the school. It's a brilliant piece of tracking magic, Hera has to admit, but privacy is paramount to her. She's only mollified by the fact that they haven't bullied anyone with this, just used it to get around curfew patrols and things. They'd been keeping an eye on her last year because they'd been worried she would do something harmful to herself, and when she kept disappearing, they'd thought the worst each time. No wonder they had taken to stalking her.

"Look, I'm not sure I can tell you where I've been going. It's kind of a secret." She replied pointedly.

If they didn't take the hint, they weren't as smart as she believed them to be. The way their eyes lit up at the same time told her they'd gotten the message. They didn't ask to see the place, and she didn't think she was ready to share it yet, but they felt better about knowing where she was going now. Neither Fred nor George had ever made fun of her or ostracized her for being able to speak to snakes. Maybe she would talk about it with Jör, see what he thought.

AN: This chapter is choppy, I know, but the plot bunnies were all over the place this time, and this is what they made me come up with. Wish me luch for a better chapter next time