When Ana returned upstairs with her teammates to the Gryffindor common room, much to her surprise, she was greeted with jubilant cheers and a standing ovation from a large gathering of students and faculty. Ana smiled at the gesture, but shook her head. "Why are you guys celebrating?" she asked, her eyes still rather red from shedding bitter tears of disappointment. "We didn't actually win…"

"We're celebrating you, Ana. You were amazing out there this evening," Daphne replied with a giggle. "And it doesn't matter who won the stupid trophy. The Ilvermorny team are the real champions in my book."

"Professor Snape was being a petulant child," added Cosette. "He'll pitch a fit if things don't go his house's way. It's not the first time he's had a hand in ensuring Slytherin's success."

Ana shrugged. "He had the right to invoke the challenge clause. It sucks that they ruled in his favor, but it is what it is…" She forced a lopsided grin. "If it means anything, their captain, Gemma Farley, came up to me and admitted that Ilvermorny should have won. I'm surprised a Slytherin would say something like that – don't get me wrong, it was a very classy and refreshing gesture."

"Gemma isn't a typical Slytherin," chimed in Hermione. "While I'm sure she's a proud member of her house, she clearly has a strong moral compass. She's had to get on to a few of her housemates for teasing students like me earlier in the term." She offered Ana a friendly smile. "You're a natural, Ana. Ilvermorny's going to win several Interscholastic Quiz Bowl Cups by the time you graduate."

"Gryffindor might have something to say about that," replied Ana with a grin. "No doubt both you and Daphne will be Quiz Bowl mainstays in the coming years."

Even Professor McGonagall paused to reminisce. "There was a time – over forty years ago – when I captained the Gryffindor Quiz Bowl team… I was a sixth-year student when we won the interscholastic competition – it was one of my proudest moments, indeed!" She patted Ana on the shoulder. "You're a special witch, Miss Harrison. You blew me away with your level of knowledge… it's a pity you're not holding the Cup, because you clearly deserved it.

Madam L, who was sitting between Professors McGonagall and Goode, gestured toward Ana. "Don't take the loss too hard, my child. Everyone that witnessed tonight's event saw for themselves that Ilvermorny's going to be a force to be reckoned with for years to come." She let out a rare laugh. "And before you forget, you promised your Hogwarts friends that you'd join them for a group photo. I'll do the honors once you're ready."

Ana nodded, and politely excused herself to the girls' dormitory area to change into the robes and uniform Daphne provided her earlier. When she returned to the common room sporting the Gryffindor red and gold, she bore a look of uneasiness on her face. "How do I look?" she asked Daphne, her tone heavy with uncertainty.

"Like a true Gryffindor," replied Daphne with a broad grin. "Perhaps you'd like to transfer next term? We could be teammates on the Quiz Bowl team!"

"If I was offered the chance to transfer, I'd definitely consider it," admitted Ana. "But even if I chose Hogwarts, there's no guarantee I'd be a Gryffindor. I could just as easily be a Ravenclaw." She smiled back at her friend. "At the end of the day, I'm a Horned Serpent from Ilvermorny. It's just part of who I am – you can't take that away from me."

"You look lovely in Gryffindor robes, my dear," trilled Professor McGonagall. "I'd have loved to have you as one of my own."

Madam L pointed to a relatively empty corner of the common room. "Let's have you get together over there, and I'll take that photo?" Once the girls had gotten into position, she aimed the enchanted camera a the group. "Three, two, one… all done!"

"We'll have that picture developed before we head to Ilvermorny," cooed Professor Goode. "You ladies have a big day ahead of you, so don't stay up too late."

The next morning, Ana and her Gryffindor friends were awakened to the sound of a loud feline snarl. "What is it, Erebus?" Daphne asked. Her cat's long fur was standing on end, and his head appeared to be fixed on something in the hallway. He assumed a defensive posture, and other than occasional twitching of his whiskers or a hiss of warning, barely made any movement at all.

Without warning, Erebus pounced at a worm-like object in the hall, jaws agape. The girls – still clad in nightgowns – gave chase, but Erebus bolted through the common room and into the boys' dormitory more quickly than any of the girls could run.

"He's never done that before," moaned Daphne, who was on the verge of tears. "He's usually so quiet and well-behaved… whatever went up to the boys' rooms must have really bothered him. I don't want anything happening to him, especially that we're leaving for Massachusetts today…"

"You mentioned that he could be part Kneazle," Ana said. "D'you think that he might have found something… or someone… that might be a bit shady?"

"I don't know," sighed Daphne. "Like I said, he's never acted this way before. I don't want him getting in trouble mere hours before we're due to leave." She began calling for Erebus from the common room, but not even a whisker popped up. Ana joined in, followed by Hermione, Parvati and Lavender, but to no avail.

"Erebus, please come here like a good boy," begged Daphne, as tears began streaming down her cheeks. "I love you… please come back!" Just as the girls were about to give up and return to their rooms and carry on with their morning, a loud holler emerged from the boys' dormitory area.

"Oi! Someone get this ruddy SHAG RUG off me!"

"That's Ron," Hermione said. "I wonder what Erebus is doing in his room…"

A fuming Ron emerged into the common room, also in pajamas. Erebus clung on to Ron's chest like a bad case of static cling, batting one of his paws up and down Ron's top, claws out. "Daphne," he grumbled, "take this bloody cat of yours off me before I have Percy turn him into a candlestick." A tiny pink nose emerged from Ron's neckline, followed by a pair of dark, frightened eyes. All it took was a brief glance, and the little rodent ducked back down inside Ron's top, shaking violently. "He's got Scabbers on edge."

Daphne, still sniffling, approached Ron and held out her arms. "C'mon baby," she cooed. "Come to mama. We've got treats far tastier than Scabbers, you know." With some difficulty, both children managed to pry the big black cat off Ron's pajamas.

"Thanks, I think," Ron quipped after noticing the small tear marks the cat left on his top. "Guess I'll have Mum mend these when I get home this evening." His jaw then dropped when he recognized Ana from the previous night's competition. "Hey, I know you! You're that really, really smart girl from Ilvermorny! You guys should have won last night…" He thrust his hand out in her direction. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"Charmed," replied Ana, her cheeks pinkening with embarrassment. "And I'm Anastasia Harrison."

Ron's mouth twisted in confusion. "Ana-what?"

"Anastasia," Ana repeated in a more deliberate manner. She gave Ron a slight smile. "If it's easier, you can call me Ana. Most people do anway."

"What's with smart girls and weird names?" Ron thought to himself. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah, Ana's definitely easier." He then looked at Hermione, and cocked his head. "You don't go by anything for short, do you?"

Hermione let out a bit of a groan. "We've known each other for over seven months, Ron. If I went by anything else, you'd have known long ago."

"And it's still every bit the mouthful now than it was when we first met," Ron shot back.

"If it's still too much for you," snapped Hermione, "then 'milady' works. Or 'Your Grace', or 'Your Highness'. Any of those will do just fine."

Ron rolled his eyes as he returned to the boys' dormitories, mumbling under his breath. The girls did the same, cat in tow. Ana couldn't help but press her fingers to her lips, not completely able to stifle a giggle.

"What's so amusing?" asked Hermione.

Ana only giggled harder. "Are you sure you want to know, Hermione?"

"I guess," came the soft reply.

Ana wiggled her eyebrows. "I think… I think that goofy little ginger friend of yours thinks you're cute."

"I don't think so," huffed Hermione. "He teases me from time to time. I don't think he does it to be mean, but he can be annoying."

Ana doubled over in laughter. "That's a textbook crush! Adolescent boys usually don't flat-out tell girls that they like them; rather they'll mock or tease them a bit – I know it sounds weird, but it's just sort of how they deal with those hormonal changes. It'll be a good while before he figures out that he needs to romance a girl to win her affections."

Hermione thrust her tongue out in disgust. "That neanderthal likes me? Thanks, but I'll pass… I don't think any Gryffindor boy is my type, now that I think about it."

"Aww, you're gonna break poor Ronnie's heart," Parvati said with a snicker. "If not Ron, then is there a boy that you fancy? Even a little bit?"

Hermione's face flushed a deep shade of pink. "Oh, I don't know…"

"Your face gave it away," teased Lavender. "C'mon, Hermione, spill it, girlfriend…"

Hermione's head drooped, as she let out an airy sigh. "Draco," she whispered.

Parvati and Lavender gasped, but Daphne simply offered a faint smile. "Draco is a sweet and cultivated boy," she said. "But you know his father would never allow you to date him… to be honest, the prospect of Draco one day courting me would give Lucius pause. The Greengrass and Malfoy families aren't at odds exactly, but ever since the war, there's certainly been some tension." She smiled again, but far more broadly this time. "That aside, you two would make a cute couple."

Hermione blushed even more deeply. "I know… a girl can dream though, right?"

Daphne nodded. "It's going to take nothing short of a miracle to get Lucius Malfoy's blessing for you to date Draco, but I suppose stranger things have happened. Lucius is… ignorant, but he also truly adores his one and only son. A day may come where he'll find himself wondering what's more important… maintaining blood purity, or his son's happiness. It may be a bit tougher than he's willing to admit."

"If memory serves, your bloodline goes back even further than the Malfoys," replied Hermione. "I know you've said your parents aren't as bigoted as a lot of the other pureblooded families, but I'm sure they don't want you marrying just anybody."

Daphne gave Hermione a dour look and shook her head sadly. "That's true; before the war, my grandparents and my ancestors before them were every bit the elitists that the Malfoys are. While my family remained neutral in the war, they only did so to keep up appearances, so to speak. Both my maternal and paternal grandparents sympathized with the Dark Lord's cause, while my mum and dad hoped he would be defeated."

She let out a sigh. "As the war dragged on, the tension between my parents and my grandparents only increased; relations had worsened to the point where my parents were nearly cut off financially. The war thankfully ended, and my family did reconcile, but a bit of the awkwardness remains whenever there are family get-togethers. Not many people outside our family are aware of that – united front and all – but I was that close from having a childhood like the Weasleys instead of being privileged and pampered… not that there's anything wrong with being a Weasley. They aren't very rich, but they don't need a lot of money to be happy."

Daphne smiled wistfully at her best friend. Tears began welling in her eyes. "There's… another thing about the Greengrass family. There's this terrible hereditary disease that some of my members suffer from... a curse, if you will," she said in a gentle whisper. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "It doesn't affect everyone, thankfully, but every third generation, one of the offspring will eventually show signs of the curse, usually by the time they turn thirty." She swallowed hard, as more tears fell. "They gradually lose muscular control, followed by their ability to speak coherently, and finally their memory. They lose all vestiges of their sanity – similar to a particularly potent Cruciatus curse. Few have lived much past their mid forties." She took several jagged breaths before continuing. "The last known Greengrass who had it was my great grandmother's sister… meaning I could one day develop this condition – or worse, Tori… the only thing worse than living with this curse is surviving a sibling… Tori isn't just my sister; she's also one of my best friends. I'd do anything for her."

"I'm so, so sorry," Hermione whispered back, fighting the urge to shed tears herself. "In the Muggle world, that sounds very much like a hereditary disease – Huntington's Disease, I believe. And it's every bit as awful for non-magical people to live through. Thankfully, it's rare, but it's got to be devastating for the families that have a member afflicted with it. There's no known treatment or cure; they're almost always institutionalized. I don't know what options there are in the magical world, but I'd imagine that it's not much better…"

Daphne shook her head, her eyes reddened and cheeks stained with the streaks of tears. "There isn't much that can be done in the magical world, either. Some potions can provide a bit of respite, but ultimately it just delays the inevitable... that being said, there is a cure per se, but my grandparents find it rather… unsavory."

Hermione bit her lip. "Putting two and two together… I suppose that means you and your sister should marry someone that isn't pureblooded."

"The Greengrass family claims to be the very first unquestionably pureblooded magical family in British wizarding history," admitted Daphne. "That's been a point of pride for untold ages, but that also means there's been a considerable amount of inbreeding just to maintain prestige. The Greengrasses are very choosy – they won't marry just any pureblood. They have to belong to an Ancient House, and those are very few mind you. That means there's lots of second cousins marrying each other; there's even instances of first cousins or uncles and nieces getting hitched. I shudder just thinking about that."

"Sort of like the royal families of nonmagical Europe," mused Hermione. "There have been several cases of monarchs with genetic abnormalities; George the Third of Great Britain and Spain's Juana La Loca – Jane the Mad, if you will – both suffered from mental illness. And Spain had another monarch – Charles the Cursed – may have been the most extreme example, as he had both physical and mental impairments; not to mention he was sterile."

Daphne nodded slowly, as another tear trickled down her face. "What's bonkers is my grandparents would rather have Tori or myself suffer to keep our family pure… not being able to watch our children grow up, see our future grandchildren like they get to… it's so stupid and selfish. My parents are less fanatical – sure, they enjoy the wealth and privilege that goes along with being a Greengrass, but they're also utterly horrified that one of their daughters carries this ugly curse… they're being put in an awkward position. Being a purebred heiress isn't always a bed of roses."

Hermione tilted her head ever so slightly. "Would you still marry a pureblood if you fell head-over-heels in love with him, and he makes you the happiest witch in Magical Britain? Even if it means potentially not being able to watch your children grow up?"

Daphne nodded. "That thought had occurred to me… yes, I would take that chance, but I wouldn't marry him to appease my grandparents. I'd marry him because he makes me that happy." She shrugged. "My parents have just myself and Tori – meaning the Greengrass line could very well end with us, discounting the possibility that my parents try for a third. They're well into their thirties so the biological clock is ticking…"

"If the line does end with you two, then I say you two should marry whoever," huffed Hermione.

"I wish it was that simple," replied Daphne with the tiniest hint of a giggle. She looked over her shoulder – a fully-changed Ana was twirling her mahogany wand as she applied a simple braiding charm to Parvati's hair. Lavender was sitting next to Parvati on the same bed, eagerly awaiting her turn. "My future children can claim the right to the House of Greengrass when they come of age. There's a bit more to it than that, but I'll tell you another time. We really need to get cleaned up and changed and get some breakfast."