Sunday October 10th, 1993

On the day of the VATIC interviews, Patil pounced on her before she could take a seat.

"Did you really tell Romilda Vane that she's going to be murdered?!"

"...Did I?" She slid into a seat, her voice uncaring. "As I recall, I didn't sing about her at all."

"What?! She's been terrified for days!" Patil huffed. "If not her, then who is your prophecy about?"

"Who's to say?"

Patil gaped at a loss. She looked to the others for help; but only Thomas, more curious than bothered, prodded further. "Do you remember seeing anyone in your head while it happened?"

"Hmm…" She mused over the question. To tell it true, she was just rehashing Sirius' POA plot (albeit it took her a few days to remember that Sirius didn't get into Gryffindor tower on Halloween.) That said, saying so is hardly any fun. It'd be far more fun to tell a different sort of truth. "I think I saw… Men In Black, and a Griffin."

"What?"

Beside her, Harry started laughing. "It's better not to ask her stuff like that. We won't understand what any of that means for a decade, at least."

Melissa grinned. "You know me so well, Harry!"

Other older members started trailing into the room. Patil, meanwhile, continued to look on, incredulous. "Are you really not worried at all?"

"No. Why should I be?"

With a snort, Davies butted in. "Bennett doesn't even care that she has the Grim after her. At this point I don't think anything fazes her."

"I forgot about that," said Merton as he took a seat. "It's been over a month, hasn't it? I thought Grims are supposed to cause deaths within a day."

"They herald them, actually; but I suppose I'm just lucky," Melissa shrugged. Then she mockingly added, "Though Professor Trelawney insists that an aura of death clings to me."

"Really?"

"That is true," Harry said confidently. He tipped sideways, launching into her in a hug. "Death clings to her!"

Melissa half-fell from the hug, her legs kicking in protest. "Blegh! You're doing that on purpose!"

"It clings to you!" He teased dramatically. "Death is clinging to you!"

Yes, and he's so gross! "Urg, Harry, get off me!"

The group laughed at her protests. Harry laughed along with them, even as he finally let her go. Rightening herself, Melissa shuddered as she settled back in. She flashed a quick smile at Harry. On the inside, however, she felt desperate for a shower. "How about we move on from all this silliness and get set up for the new arrivals. Shall we?"

Still laughing, the group gave in and got to work on their set up, rearranging chairs and desks for the nine remaining members, plus extra for whomever was coming today.

It's weird doing this without Stephanie, Domonkos or Eloise, she mused. At the heart of it, VATIC was her brainchild, sure, but Stephanie was the one who set the solid idea in place. Eloise, of course, was the powerhouse and idea-master towards the gifts themselves. And Domonkos always knew the best way to present the gifts to the masses and keep everyone on track. To do this without them after four years together… It was strange.

Her eyes moved from the furniture to the people. First to Lovegood, ever smiling, asking Thomas about any new artists he's hoping will come. Then to Cornfoot, Patil and Davies getting advice from Merton over what criteria they should pay the most attention to.

Melissa smiled at the happy group before her. It's weird, but… we'll be good.

"Hi. My name's Lily Birch, and I'd like to be the new Hufflepuff member-"

"Hello. I'm Harry Denbright-"

"Harriet Marlow-"

"Lilian Edwards-"

"Ugh-OW!" Harry quietly groaned, then winced as Tracey elbowed him.

A few people turned, hearing the shout. Tracey, on the other hand, fixed a pleasant smile on her face and chirped. "Sorry, Edwards, you were saying?"

"Right. Well, I'm here for the musician's opening?" She said quietly, almost like a question.

"Wonderful! And what do you play?"

"The clarinet," the girl started blushing. "I only started playing last year, but I'd like to try…"

Harry tuned out the rest of the interview. He tried to rub his side discreetly, while flashing cutting looks at Tracey that she didn't see (or refused to acknowledge). When the little Ravenclaw eventually curtseyed and left the room, Tracey finally turned to him. "Don't be an ass, Potter."

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"No, you just whine and pout like a baby," Tracey answered. "This is a Valentine's group. You can't frown at people wanting to join just because you don't like their name."

"She's got a point," Melly added.

Harry groaned, "But it's hard!"

"Listen," Melly chided, "if I can put up with death auras," the words came with a meaningful look, "you can put up with a few familiar names."

In a rare show of frowning, Luna asked "You don't have a problem with Lily Moon, do you?"

"Of course not! But that's different-"

"Then pretend that it's different for them, too!" Tracey snapped. "They didn't choose their names, Potter. Their parents did. So stop being a baby about it."

"Ugh, fine!"

"Good. Let's call in the next person."

A quick shuffle later, and another hufflepuff girl stepped in. Harry visibly relaxed as he recognized the interviewee.

"Hi," the girl started with a nervous smile, "I'm Annabel Entwhistle, from Hufflepuff. I know I'm a first year student and don't know much about magic, yet, but I've heard a lot about your group from my brother's letters, and I think it'd be really fun to join you!"

The rest of VATIC perked up as that interview went on. They asked the girl questions about her interests outside of school, her skills (even muggle ones, what few could be useful), and the handful of Valentine ideas that she's doodled over the past two years. They were fun: some completely silly and others over-the-top; but Annabel had a lot of enthusiasm for joining, and that energy caught on with the others.

"That went well," Kenneth commented after the door closed. "Never would have thought we'd have fans of this project before they come to Hogwarts."

Beside him, Merton grinned. "It's what we do, spread the love around. I'll call the next one in."

The next people to come through were a pair of boys from Slytherin. The first contrasted Annabel with a lack of enthusiasm.

"I'm just curious what the fuss is about. What exactly do you all do, anyways?"

Suffice to say, his preference for asking questions instead of answering them resulted in a very short interview. The next boy, one Byron Miller, had more potential.

"I've read a lot of poetry and works from the great masters. I heard you did something like that before, and I think I can help you with that."

Melly seemed to be amused by the idea. "Do you consider yourself a Don Juan, by any chance?"

Miller seemed to simultaneously smile and frown at that question. "I'm a little young for that, or so I've been told. Perhaps after a Pilgrimage things might be different?"

Harry looked between them, their smiles confusing him. Clearly that was some sort of joke, right? Whatever it was, neither gave explanation as the meeting went on.

"So, how are we feeling about our candidates?" Tracey asked the group.

"Might as well start with Slytherin," Said Dean. "There were only three of them."

Kenneth glanced down at his notes. "That poet boy is the only one who stood out to me."

Harry nodded at that. "Yeah, I liked him the best."

"That's just because his name isn't Harry," Melly teased.

Harry threw her a dirty look. "That's not why, and you know it."

Some good-natured teasing followed. Ultimately, though, Miller ended up getting that vote. After that came the Ravenclaw candidates; which also took little time to discuss.

"Half of them just play piano. Unless they learn the melodica or something, that's hardly useful," Melly pointed out.

Parvati nodded along. "I'll be honest, the only person who stood out was the girl with the lyre."

To that, most agreed.

Hufflepuff, unsurprisingly, had the most candidates. It took a lot of debate, but Harry was happy to see that a few rounds of votes went in Entwhistle's favour. When she officially won the vote, Harry leaned back with a sigh of relief. The sigh caught some people's notice; and they, in turn, snorted at his relief.

"Congratulations, Potter," Tracey drawled. "You're officially the only Potter-named person in VATIC. Happy?"

Harry rolled his eyes, though his smile betrayed him. "We have a good group this year. That's what matters."

"Sure, sure," Dean teased. The rest of the group laughed and joined in at the teasing. That said, Harry was willing to accept it. After all, no point in complaining when things are going your way.

As the Slytherins headed to the dungeons, Byron Miller showed his eagerness straight away. "So when's our first meeting?"

"Every other Sunday this term, starting October 24th," Tracey answered. "Once everyone comes back from the holidays we'll be meeting every Sunday. That'll give us enough time to get ready."

"Especially with Valentine's Day being on a Monday," Melissa added.

"So we have to wait two whole weeks to get started?" The boy deflated.

"It's in your benefit. Trust me," said Melissa. "First day's the big brain-storming day. Now that we know all of who's joined and what their strengths are, it's easier to get an idea of what things we can pull off."

"Oh!" Byron brightened. After a pause, he spoke. "Though… I don't know everyone in the group yet. I'm at a disadvantage, aren't I?"

The girls hummed in consideration. "Well, you're a firstie. Maybe just focus on fresh ideas. The kind that inspired us to vote for you to join us."

"Mmm. I suppose so."

They walked down another flight of stairs, then waited for another to connect them to a lower floor.

"...If you don't mind me asking, Bennett," he said, "have you considered using your gift as part of the celebrations?"

"My gift?" She blinked in confusion. When it finally hit her, she snorted a laugh. "That sounds like a terrible idea! Ha!"

"Is it really?"

"Oh, absolutely!" She barked a laugh, then took a step forward just as a flight of stairs connected. "I mean, that's practically impossible. Trying to sing predictions for the whole school? I don't think I could pull that off if I tried."

"But you did make one for one of the Gryffindors, right?" He asked.

"Ah, well… That's…"

"Technically she didn't," Tracey supplied. "Her prophecy was about something else. Men in black, you said. Right?"

"I guess."

Byron was incredulous. "You guess?"

"I don't exactly control it," Melissa shrugged. "I just let myself relax, and whatever comes out, comes out."

Tracey gave a small hum of laughter. "Mind you, you did mention seeing a gryphon. Perhaps there is a Gryffindor involved."

"Maybe. There's not much good in thinking about this kind of stuff," Melissa dismissed. "Trying to interpret prophecy just gives people headaches or sets them up for self-fulfilment. That's my experience, at least."

The firstie thought it over as they approached the Slytherin common room. "So it's better to just accept it, then? Work within them?"

"I mean, if they bother to make sense? Sure. Hail Hydra."

The stone wall shifted to reveal the common room door.

Tracey eyed her with annoyance. "You realize the password is just Hydra, right?"

"I know," She gave an impish grin, "but like he said, when things make sense, you work with it."

She cackled darkly, leaving the two behind as she stepped inside.

"...I'd say you'll get used to that, but even I still haven't," Tracey confessed.

"I'm sure it makes things interesting," Byron smiled hopefully.

It's only mid-October, she thought, watching as the other witch skipped into the corridor leading to the dorms. His optimism won't last.

They parted ways. Miller went off to a sitting area of expectant firsties. "Cal and Harry told us you got in," one said. "Congratulations."

"So what did they say about, you know…" The conversation faded from Tracey's ear as she walked over to the farside of the common room. She spotted Daphne sitting on the one area near the lake with decent lighting, unsurprised to find her reading by the light. Along with a non-surprise of another blond reading in the neighbouring chair. Ugh! Doesn't he have his own friends to crawl back to?

"Hi, Daph."

Daphne looked up from her book, a gentle smile on her face once she spotted her. "Tracey. How did it go?"

"Well," she dipped into an empty seat across from them, "you'll be happy to hear that VATIC's added a lovely harpist to the group."

Daphne gasped. "Astoria got in?"

"Barely had to put it to a vote," Tracey grinned. "She was everyone's favourite."

"That's wonderful!"

"I'm not surprised," Malfoy drawled from the other chair, "she's well-bred and very talented, from what Greengrass tells me."

Nobody asked for your opinion. Tracey huffed loudly. "Then I'm surprised I didn't see you there, Malfoy. Surely a man of your 'talent and breeding' could be useful to the group?"

Malfoy coloured and sputtered. Beside him Daphne levelled her a disapproving look. One she's gotten used to over the past few weeks.

When Malfoy half-recovered, he said, "Perhaps, but it's not in my interest."

"No?" She purred. "Surely you'd enjoy charming the good students of Hogwarts? Having their adoration and attention again as you flounce down the great hall."

"I do not flounce!"

Both witches giggled at that. "Sure you don't, Malfoy."

Tracey took advantage of the blond's sputtering, exchanging barbs with the boy. Malfoy got more flustered as it went on. His usual tactic would be to insult Tracey or the subject itself; but Malfoy quickly found himself between a rock and a hard place as Daphne pointed out that her sister is now part of the group he was insulting. It made the conversation all the more entertaining as Malfoy's arguments were backed further and further into a corner.

"This is pointless!" He cried. "I didn't even want to talk about it, anyways! I have tomorrow's potions class to study for!" As if to prove a point, his textbook reopened and was propped high enough to block his face.

Tracey snickered at his cowering. She grinned over at Daphne. The other girl shook her head and rolled her eyes over the whole thing, but there was still a smile; proving she wasn't completely against Tracey's antagonising.

In the humorous lull that followed his retreat, other voices in the common room became more obvious. One in particular, a mention of "that valentine's group", caught her notice.

"Why not?" A boy asked. Tracey turned, zeroing in on Miller, who was seated and glaring up at a girl who's back was turned from Tracey's line of sight. "It's just a small club."

"But you know who's in it, don't you?" The girl asked in a snide voice. "The Devil-girl, Bennett. She practically runs the whole thing!"

"No, she doesn't," said Miller. "Even if she did, what does that matter?"

"What does that matter? What does that MATTER?!" The girl shrieked. She stomped against the floor. Tracey felt her stomach drop as a small group was drawn to the girl. "She's a killer!"

"She's not," he replied simply. "You-Know-Who possessed her, everyone knows that."

"No, it was demons! She made a deal with the Devil and killed people! You shouldn't be near that witch! She's dangerous!"

"Dangerous, am I?"

The common room hushed. Most had not noticed Bennett's return to the common room. A pin drop silence fell, precious seconds passing, as the arguing witch slowly turned in fear. Bennett stepped forward. The other stepped back.

Bennett broke the silence with a single word. "...Well?"

"I- I…"

She took another step closer. "Do I scare you that much, little Yaxley?"

Something twinged in Tracey's mind. A sense of unfamiliarity, and unease. Back at the confrontation, the younger girl paled. "H-how do you know my name?!"

"Hmm?" Bennett stepped closer. One arm lifted, and Yaxley trembled as she realized she was in arms reach. Bennett took hold of the girl by a tag on her robes. "It's on your name tag," Bennett gave a small giggle. "You listen too hard to rumours, kid." She stepped closer. Moving her hand up to Yaxley's shoulder, she pulled her in to whisper something in Yaxley's ear

At the same time, a voice shouted, "RELASHIO!"

A purple light shot out towards them. Shoving Yaxley aside, Bennett side-stepped the spell. She jumped again as the caster, a boy, cast a bee-sting jinx at her. As she dodged, Bennett flung an arm up to keep her balance.

At least, that's what Tracey thought the girl was doing, until a spurt of blood flung wide in the air, coming from the boy's shoulder.

"AHH!"

"ACCIO, TIE!"

The boy jerked forward. His body stumbled, neck-first, halfway across the room. The tie flung into Bennett's summoning grasp. The girl's face contorted into a scowl; and the boy, still attached to the tie, dangled as she lifted the cloth high. It was then that the crowd realized something chilling- She isn't using a wand!

"Just what the FUCK do you think you're playing at?! HUH?! YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING?!"

The crowd made no move to intervene, their eyes fixed on the doubly bizarre sight.

With one exception.

"ARNOLD!" It was Yaxley, stumbling closer, hands flung to her mouth in a gasp.

"MERLE, STAY BACK!" The boy, Arnold, twisted his head to look back at Bennett. "Do it! But you leave my sister alone, do you hear me!"

The scowled lessened to a glare. The glare, to confusion. Bennett moved her attention to the name tag on his robes. Eyes flickered between Merle and Arnold. Bennett huffed a breath, and lowered her arm so that the boy was no longer half-strangled. With a free hand she patted the boy on the head, an act the boy tried to flinch away from in fear before realizing it wasn't hurting him.

"You're a good kid, Yaxley."

"Wh-what?" The boy blinked up at her. "You're not going to kill me?"

"Uh, no?" Bennett said in a tone that suggested 'why would I?' "You're just looking out for your little sister. I can't fault someone for being a good sibling."

"Oh."

"Though next time, I suggest you go for diplomacy rather than going in, wands blazing. I mean, what are you, a Gryffindor?"

Nervous chuckles elicited sporadically around the room.

"Not wise at all," the girl continued, shaking her head. "After all, everyone else in the room was willing to sit back and watch you die."

The room chilled.

By the way she spoke, Bennett didn't seem to notice. "The Bystander Effect's a bitch. So keep a cool head next time things look scary, alright?"

"Uh… Yes. Right. Sorry, Miss Bennett."

She offered a smile that looked genuine. "You're forgiven, Mister Yaxley." She gave him a couple pats on his shoulder then turned about face. "Yaxley, Yaxley, Miller- congratulations again. I'll see you all at dinner!"

Bennett strolled out with a wave, not even turning back to make sure her Prefect friend was following her out. When the passage closed, the common room spun into loud whispers.

"I didn't imagine that, right?"

"That was wandless magic!"

"Did she even say the first spell?"

"-NEVER fought someone back before!"

"-lucky to be alive!"

"Would she have really-"

"-gotten away with it-"

"-what happened in Azkaban-"

Tracey let out a breath. "Okay… that's new."

Across from her, Daphne looked white. "She's been exorcised, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," Tracey answered. "Dumblesnore got it done after her sentence." Though now she was starting to have her doubts.

"Could she have done it again?"

"I don't think she'd risk that. Not after last time."

Another voice broke through the rabble. "Maybe that stint in Azkaban drove her mental!"

"She was already mental," another scoffed.

"Yeah, but not like that. A place that Dark's bound to twist people up, innit? Who knows what those dementors do to people?!"

On reflex, both Tracey and Daphne turned to Malfoy at that remark. The boy had long ignored his book. His eyes gazed down into nothing as he frowned at those words.

It gnawed at Tracey to admit it, but she actually felt sorry for Malfoy. "I don't think Azkaban had anything to do with it. She's probably just done with others bothering her. Right?"

Malfoy said nothing. Daphne frowned and rested a hand on a corner of the book. "It's different, Draco. Your father isn't like Bennett."

"...That's the problem," Malfoy muttered. "If the reporters are right, he won't end up like Bennett; he'll end up worse."

Oh. Shoot, he's right. Tracey cringed, as did Daphne. "...Well, I'm sure that's just a one-off thing. Just standing up for herself, like I said. Things aren't as bad as we think they are."

I hope.