As soon as Harry woke up the next morning, he looked outside the window next to his bed. He yawned as he stretched, and shook his head in dismay as the dense silver fog blanketed almost the entire landscape. He cleaned up and got dressed, then trudged to the mess hall for breakfast.

Biscuits and gravy, he thought to himself. Not my favorite, but it'll do. He didn't have much to say to his friends that morning, as his upcoming detention dominated his thoughts. The undeniable feeling of dread gnawed at him to the point where he pushed his half-eaten meal to the middle of the table, and headed upstairs without saying a word.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Tallulah called after him. "You're not yourself this morning."

Harry turned around and shrugged. "I just have a lot of my mind is all," he murmured. "I might as well get started on that History essay. I'll see you lot in a bit, all right?"

"I'd be mopey too if I had to serve detention this afternoon," Othniel said to Tallulah. "I hope they don't go too hard on him…"

"Harry will be fine," chimed in Ana. "I've never had detention, but some of my friends have. He's lucky that Mister Floyd is supervising… he's even been known to pitch in himself! As long as he stays quiet and stays busy, he'll be done in time for dinner."

As Harry made his way back upstairs to the Horned Serpent tower, he passed by Nova, who was apparently making her way to the mess hall. He'd never really seen her outside of her school clothes, but in her Muggle-style softball tee, blue jeans, and trainers… well, the young teen was certainly beginning to blossom in all the right places, he noticed. She wore her hair down this time, which cascaded to the top of her shoulders. Harry wasn't sure if it was the light of the passageway, or maybe a simple charm, but her hair seemed to be a shade lighter too – somewhere between a deep gold and dishwater blonde.

Her lips curved upwards in a tiny smile. "Good morning, Potter," she said in a soft lilt. Harry found her smile to be quite pleasant; indeed, he wished she would do it more often.

"Hey there, Nova," replied Harry. "How are you?"

Nova broadened her smile, but only by a few millimeters at the most. "I'm good, I suppose." She let out a small, almost inaudible sigh. "We need to talk in private later, if you don't mind." She let the tiniest of giggles escape from her lips. "More accurately, I'll be talking and you'll be listening."

Harry merely nodded. "Okay, Nova," he murmured. "Just let me know where and when… oh, I do have a detention to serve this afternoon, so it'll have to be sometime after dinner."

Nova put a hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle. "Yes, I heard about you sticking up for your little friend Slater during your flying lesson the other day. Pretty ballsy move there." She bit her lip. "How about the choir room after dinner then? Nobody ever uses it on the weekends, unless there's an upcoming performance… to my recollection, there won't be one until the Halloween Feast."

"Uh, sure, I guess," replied Harry. "I don't know where it's at, though."

Nova shook her head and offered Harry another small-but-pleasant smile. "Don't worry about it. It's easy to find; just follow me after dinner. I'll see you then, all right?'

Harry nodded again. "See you then."

Harry spent the rest of the morning working on his History of Magic essay; after proofreading it several times and making sure that it exceeded the 750-word minimum (much to his satisfaction, he cleared the threshold by nearly a hundred words), he then teamed up with Othniel and Tallulah where they went over Potions – they needed to have the complete list of ingredients needed to concoct a Hair Raising Potion by Tuesday. Even Othniel was able to accurately recall the list, thanks to his friends' efforts.

At about 3:45 in the afternoon, Harry took his leave and made his way to the entrance hall to await his fate. To his surprise, he wasn't the only student that was handed a detention. There were perhaps eight or nine other students, from various years and houses. Some had looks of defiance on their faces, others were either pacing back and forth, or nervously bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet.

At four o'clock sharp, a female Hispanic trustee with dark, chin-length hair from the Pukwudgie house entered the entrance hall, with a clipboard in hand. She cleared her throat and called out in a loud, clear voice: "If you were instructed to report to detention this afternoon, I need you to come up front and form two lines!" Harry followed the gaggle of students and took his place in the line on his right.

Once everyone had lined up, the trustee continued with her instructions. "When I call your name, you may respond with 'here' or 'present', and I will check your name off. Once I'm done taking roll, you will wait here until Mister Floyd arrives with your assignment." She proceeded to call out each student by their surname; once finished, she left the entrance hall to hand the list to the caretaker.

Less than five minutes later, the brawny Floyd entered the chamber, with a box under one of his well-muscled arms. "I need everyone to grab a feather duster," he instructed. "We're going to be paying the Wand Selection Hall a visit this afternoon." He pointed at the line Harry stood in. "Everyone in this line, come up here and get a duster." Once everyone in Harry's line selected their dusters, they returned their original places. Floyd then pointed at the other line. "Everyone in this group – same thing."

Once everyone had gotten their dusters and returned to their places, Floyd nodded in satisfaction. "All right, if everybody will follow me…" He led the students down a series of hallways – some of which Harry remembered, but not all – until they reached a familiar marble staircase that curved nearly a full 360 degrees. "Lumos," Floyd said as they went down the dark, cool staircase. Harry winced as the musty stench of wet concrete tugged at his nostrils.

Once Floyd and his charges reached the end of the underground passageway, he placed his hand on the same somewhat off-colored brick that Professor Frye used during Harry's first day of class. The same grumbling sound came from the walls as before, and a panel with four colored buttons appeared where the discolored brick once was just a few seconds earlier.

This time, Harry watched Floyd enter the sequence to enter the Wand Selection Hall. Floyd was much more methodical in entering the sequence than Frye was, so it was much easier for Harry to memorize this time. Blue, Green, Yellow, Red, Harry noted mentally. The same archway appeared as before, and for the second time, Harry stepped foot into the large library-like room. The only difference was, Elder Gomer was nowhere to be seen, but everything else looked exactly the same as before.

"I need all of you to pair off; today I want you all to understand the importance of teamwork," instructed Floyd. "One of you dusts the shelves, while the other dusts off the boxes and books. If one of you finishes before the other, you will join your partner until the entire shelf and its contents are completely dust-free. Once that shelf is done, you will move on to the next one, and repeat the process until all the shelves in this room are complete to my satisfaction."

Harry looked at the massive room… there must have been close to eighty shelves in total, he calculated. The larger shelves hugged the walls, while the more numerous smaller shelves were arranged in neat rows in the interior of the room.

"Everyone line up just like you were before in the entrance hall," Floyd directed. He nodded once everyone had assembled as instructed. "Now, everyone face toward the other line." Harry turned ninety degrees to his left, his fingers fidgeting around the duster.

Floyd's voice boomed once again. "Today, your partner will be the person directly across from you." He pointed toward the southwest corner of the chamber. "First group, you start in that corner, and work your way clockwise." He counted about a dozen shelves, and pointed again. "Second group, you start with that shelf, and work your way clockwise." Harry and his partner, an olive-complected girl with dark wavy hair that was probably a year or two ahead of him, purposefully marched toward the designated shelf. Floyd resumed divvying out sections of the chamber, then began polishing the busts and statues of some of Ilvermorny's most prominent witches and wizards.

Floyd paused for just a moment to address the students. "If you cannot reach the top portions of the shelves, there is a stack of step stools between the jackalope and chupacabra statues." He pointed to an area near the southeast corner of the room, which was practically the opposite side of the room from where Harry was standing.

Harry's partner cleared her throat and introduced herself. As she was not in a school uniform, he couldn't tell which house she belonged to. As he hadn't seen her in the Horned Serpent common room or dinner table, she must have been from one of the other three houses. He also didn't recognize her from any of his classes; she was almost certainly a second-year at the very least. "Hi there… I'm Samantha Goldfarb," she whispered. "And you are…"

"Harry," he replied in an equally soft tone. "Harry Potter." His eyes shifted. "Soooo… what are you in for?"

Samantha sighed. "I was late to Potions last Thursday. Madam L is crazy-strict! Five demerits for the first offense! I swear, it's complete bullshit…" Her eyes narrowed, and her voice lowered to a barely-audible, yet ominous creak. "I swear, I'm going to get Erik Suzuki one day, and get him good…"

Harry shook his head in confusion. "What'd he do?"

Samantha pinched her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead. "He cast the Dancing Feet Jinx on me after our morning exercises. It took almost an hour to wear off. Freakin' jerk." She looked at Harry again. "So, Harry, what's your frack?"

Harry scrunched his face, unsure of what his partner was referring to. "Frack?" he repeated.

Samantha giggled softly. "You must be a firstie. It's okay, you'll pick up on the Ilvermorny jargon soon enough. Frack is short for infraction – what you did to report for detention, if you will."

Harry's cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. "I took off on a broom without permission during my first flying lesson last week…" He narrowed his eyes, as if he was trying to justify his rationale for doing so. "A gang of big Thunderbirds bullied my friend… they took my friend's necklace from her, and I swore that I'd get it back." He then cracked a grin. "I got detention… and a trip to the infirmary for my efforts, but it was worth it."

Samantha offered Harry a knowing smile. "I'm sure your friend's very grateful for what you've done for her. I wish I had you to back me up as a firstie last year… I got bullied some, too. It's not fun."

Harry pointed toward the opposite corner of the chamber. "I'll go grab a couple of step stools for us… would you want to take the boxes or the shelves?"

Samantha tilted her head upwards just a few degrees, and rapped her fingertips on her chin for a couple of seconds. "I'll take the boxes, and you can do the shelves? And maybe we can alternate?"

Harry nodded. "Sounds good. I'll be back in a few seconds."

For the next forty-five minutes, Harry and Samantha dusted two huge shelves, and all the boxes stored on them. They were about a quarter of the way done with the third one when Harry climbed to the top of the step stool and began dusting off the top of the case. He hoisted himself up to the shelf and slowly crawled from one end to the other, hugging the wall the entire time in an attempt not to fall off – he must have been a good seven feet from the floor.

As he began crawling back the other way, his right elbow inadvertently hit a loose brick. Both he and Samantha heard a low grinding noise, and the shelf began to rotate. "What the…" whispered Samantha as the children found themselves in a dark, dank chamber that neither of them recognized.

Harry's heart pounded… for one, he couldn't see anything, but he got the feeling that he really shouldn't be in this room. The soft sounds of tiny chittering feet, and low hisses only added to the eerie vibe. "Samantha?" he asked, his voice quaking with fear. "Where are we?"

Samantha whipped out her wand. "Lumos," she murmured. She clasped a hand to her mouth as she made out the unmistakable outlines of… "Omigod! Spiders… scorpions… and snakes!"

"Oh my," Harry deadpanned.

Samantha's fingers trembled; her breathing became more and more jagged. She steeled herself as she turned around to address Harry. "C'mon, Harry, I'll help you down," she offered. "Turn your body ninety degrees to your right, and I'll keep you steady."

Harry nodded, and began descending the shelf, while Samantha gently guided him to the floor.

"I have no idea where we are," she admitted. "All I care about is finding our way out…"

"I must have pressed something on the wall to get us in here," Harry surmised. "Let's try and find a button or a loose stone or something on the wall – that's the most likely way to get us back on the other side." He began pushing random spots along the wall, hoping to find something that could turn them back around. Samantha soon joined him, but after nearly ten minutes of searching, they concluded that the only way out was through the creepy passageway…