Chapter 44 - Best laid plans

Daphne let out a breath as she finally closed the office door behind her. That had been... she wasn't sure. What Professor Snape had said was still firmly stuck in her mind. Did he know? How could he know? Was he talking to Potter, or to her?

Said girl was giving her an expectant look, and she schooled her features. Right. She wasn't done yet. She still had to tie up the final loose end. Giving Potter a nod, she began to set a brisk pace down towards the hallway leading in the direction of the Slytherin dueling ring. She had been there to watch a few times, to take a few glimpses and learn, but she had never participated so far, nor had she ever intended to. But this seemed like the best opportunity she was going to get here. If all else failed, she could always try the direct approach, but her instincts were still warning her against that.

Something was off with the girl. Something had been off with her for a long time, but even more so lately. With everyone else she could at least guess at whether it would be a good idea to try anything, but with her...

All she got was... nothing. Silence. A big question-mark.

And that was what unnerved her the most. Yeah, she could read her like everyone else, at least at the surface level, but...

What if they find out? Please be careful!

She didn't have to be scared, Daphne would make sure that nobody would dig where they shouldn't. Too much was at stake.

She took another glance at the girl, who was once again pondering their upcoming duel, and Daphne's possible reasons for agreeing to duel with her. Luckily, her drive to improve and prove herself was strong enough to override any hesitations she might have left. She couldn't let Potter continue down that path that would inevitably lead to her.

Daphne had sent word, and had already gotten her reply. Everything was ready. She didn't like this plan at all, especially since it involved others—unknown variables—, but she hadn't even managed in their duel, so this was her best and only shot. She couldn't allow her to continue snooping around, especially in the wrong place.

She caught sight of Mortymer, who was standing to the side of the corridor, trying to look inconspicuous. He met her eyes, confirming that the area was clear. She hadn't needed to do all that much, really. There was already so much lingering resentment surrounding Potter, all they had needed was a little push here, a few words there, just enough to overcome their hesitation at breaking Snape's rules. And as luck would have it, Malfoy had been planning something on his own as well, all she had to do was speed things along a bit.

The large archway of the Slytherin dueling ring loomed in front of them, and both girls approached it step by step, Daphne keeping her face as blank as ever. She stepped through the archway and to the side, making room for Potter to walk inside, further, all the way to the center. The large open circular room was dimly illuminated in a soft green hue, mixed with the gentle orange of flickering torches. Tall stone pillars surrounded them on all sides, and a circular spectator's podium surrounded the whole thing, giving the ring a sort of underground colosseum vibe.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence..."

Daphne let her eyes widen a bit and took a step back, as the silhouette of Malfoy made itself known across the room. She hastily stepped to the side as Warrington quietly entered behind her, and the door was sealed shut behind him. More and more students kept emerging from the shadows in front of them, and she carefully kept a scared expression on her face, as she tried to merge with the wall, doing her best to disappear from the view and minds of everyone else present. Plausible deniability was the winning phrase. She wasn't going to be seen doing anything that could be tied to this. Other than her presence, which was bad enough, but that was necessary.

Potter was standing still as a statue, but she noticed that her hand was clutching something inside her robes, probably her wand. She couldn't really read her like this, but she didn't have to. This time, she was going to get what she needed.

Daphne glanced at Warrington, who was twirling his wand as he approached her from behind her, and she wondered if she should do something about him. He was the biggest threat to Potter right now with his current position, as well as his skill, and she wasn't even sure if the girl was aware of his presence yet. There was no point to this if she would just get knocked out from the start.

"You didn't think that would be the end of it, did you? Putting on a show with your little flames... pretending like you are using wandless magic... and you think we'd just accept someone like you?" Malfoy sneered.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. Did he know something more about what had happened that night? But no, now was not the time.

"Why don't we see what that... reputation of yours is really worth," he finished and gave a gleeful grin.

Potter still hadn't moved, or said anything, apparently not willing to give him a reaction.

"Or maybe, we should start with your little half-blood friend, if we're cleaning the house of filth anyway?"

The girl was still just standing there, presumably glaring at him.

Malfoy frowned, and continued, "I suppose I should threaten your other friends, but, well, that would require you to have any friends that aren't completely worthless..."

The silence stretched a bit more.

Potter finally spoke up. "Okay... That was... almost painful to watch. Did you spend the entire year coming up with that?" the redhead asked incredulously, then her voice lowered to a helpful whisper. "Maybe should've brushed up your insults before... well... whatever this is. You uhm... how do I say this... kinda lost your touch."

Daphne had to try very hard to keep her face blank. Potter really wasn't giving him the time of day. Apparently, the girl had learned from last year. Not that it would help her much in this situation.

Finally, Malfoy shrugged, and said "Well, can't blame me for trying."

Then, gradually, he tilted his head. "But then again..."

He let his gaze sweep around the students standing to his side, and all around the room.

"I think you'll find, that we can all agree..." he drawled, raising his hands, then finally gave her a smirk, "That you cast the first spell at me."

He paused, and his smirk widened a bit. "After all, you are our resident missorted Gryffindor. We were quite fortunate you didn't decide to pull out a sword instead."

"Wow, Malfoy," Potter replied. "I guess you really are living proof that sometimes, it can take up to nine months just to make a joke."

Malfoy's eye twitched, and with a snarl, he whipped his wand through the air and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

A bright red bolt exploded from his wand, and at last, Potter moved. In a mass of twirling dark-red hair the girl turned to the side, took half a step back and reached a hand. The spell which might have hit her was now flying past her, coming right at Daphne-

Except... when the spell passed the girl's hand, it veered off to the side, seeming to bend around the witch, until it finally continued past her, and smacked into the face of a shocked Warrington, who hadn't even cast a shield yet. Merlin.

Potter's wand snapped up, and while everyone was still staring in shock, a flash of blue washed over the assorted students in front of her—at least a dozen of them. Before they had even realized what was happening, the girl had completed the Auror's Hello, causing half of the wands of the assorted Slytherins to come clattering to the ground from the shockwave of air, and a few more who had managed to shield themselves or didn't have them out yet immediately lost them to the follow-up summoning charm.

This wasn't good. Somehow, within the first five seconds, she had managed to turn a fifteen-on-one hopeless situation into... what? four-on-one? And she had even taken out the main threat. This really wasn't how this was supposed to go.

Daphne carefully palmed her wand underneath her robes. She really hoped that it wouldn't come down to her in the end. It would be much harder to avert suspicion if she actually took part herself.

Malfoy cast a stunner, most of the remaining co-conspirators following suit. But of course, they wouldn't vary their spells. Daphne groaned as she saw Potter bring up a large hexagonal reflective shield, easily deflecting every single stunner all at once, returning the spells right back where they came from, except at different owners. Some managed to shield, some managed to dodge, and Parkinson managed to get herself knocked out.

They exchanged some more spells, but even the four of them working together, they couldn't manage to break her defenses, and it was looking more and more likely that Daphne would have to intervene after all. Potter was spinning, dodging, shielding, but instead of casting back, she was picking off the disarmed students with stunners of her own. Smart. The girl was almost a blur, a sort of blue-ish glow surrounding her, as she fired spells in all directions.

Crabbe fell to another reflected stunner, and Malfoy was knocked backwards by that thrice-damned Depulso spell breaking right through his shield, but thankfully he managed to keep his wand. Daphne slowly pulled her wand from her robes, and was just about to cast a spell of her own, when she noticed Warrington, off to the side. He had found a discarded wand on the floor, and was currently picking it back up. Deciding to be patient for a bit longer, she stashed her wand away again and watched him bring up the new wand, point it at Potter's back, and cast.

"Expelliarmus!"

Potter whirled around and reached a hand, and the spell started to bend yet again, getting closer and closer until finally-

A yell and a flash of red as the spell clipped the edge of her shoulder, and the girl was tossed backwards as her wand came spinning high into the air, until it was caught by a previously disarmed Yaxley. There.

Now was the time. She took a step forward, met the girl's eyes, and-

What? Still? How?

Daphne was hesitating. Her defenses should be at their weakest when she was both mentally and physically exhausted. She wasn't sure if she would get a better chance than this, but...

"Finally, Potter, no more tricks, no more running. You're done." Malfoy's voice shook slightly, a mix of triumph and anxiety as he approached. "Told you to get used to the taste."

Potter rolled back to a sitting position, her eyes flicking between Malfoy, Warrington, Goyle, Yaxley, and Daphne.

"Now, where's that famous wandless magic of yours? What was it you said? About whose bad side we shouldn't be on?" sneered Warrington, stepping closer. "About your little half-blood friend being off-limits?"

Potter's eyes narrowed, and Warrington grinned smugly. "After all this time... turns out you're... all... talk..."

Raising her hand, Potter conjured that familiar orb of colorful light. Yet none of them reacted, even as it began to float ominously above them.

"That's cute. Think we're scared of a little light? Come on! What are you waiting for? Set me on fire! Do something! ...If you can," jeered Malfoy, earning chuckles from the others.

"Here's the part you don't understand, Malfoy..." Potter whispered, her eyes locking onto his. "I'm not trapped in here with you."

Her raised hand began to glow with an intense blue light. Daphne's eyes widened in realization, but it was too late. Potter's face broke into a manic grin.

"You're trapped in here with me."

A blast of blue energy erupted from her outstretched palm, hitting Malfoy square in the chest and sending him crashing into Goyle, knocking them both to the ground.

"You bitch!" screamed Yaxley, swiped her wand, and shouted "Diffindo!"

Daphne's eyes widened, but she let out a breath as Potter's wand simply remained a dead stick in the older witch's hand, who frowned and looked down at it.

The now blue glowing orb directly behind the tall blonde pulsed and with a shower of sparks, she was tossed to the ground towards Potter. The redhead dove for the downed girl, and wrenched her wand from her grasp.

"Stupefy!"

Potter's wand snapped up, deflecting the stunner Warrington hurled at her. The spell went wide, slamming into Goyle, who crumpled to the ground with a grunt.

"Stay still, you coward!" Warrington shouted, his frustration boiling over as Potter seemingly effortlessly dodged and countered each attack, until another swipe of her wand managed to stun Yaxley as well.

Morgana, this had really gotten out of hand. Daphne carefully reached for her wand again and slowly approached the group from the side.

A stunner from Malfoy was reflected back at him, but before he could cast his own reflective shield, the orb of light—now floating directly behind him—flashed yet again, knocking him forward and right into the oncoming spell.

"Confringo!"

Daphne instinctively raised a shield just as the shockwave hit her, and only a second later she realized what had happened. Warrington had cast a blasting curse right at Potter's feet. It had been some distance away, so it probably hadn't been lethal, but Yaxley had been just as close. No, now things had gotten out of hand. Had she maybe pushed them too far? It was one thing to violate Slytherin house rules with some internal power struggles, but if someone actually got seriously injured... They might even get expelled, or worse, investigated.

She watched Potter get tossed into the far wall, and her wand clatter to the ground. She really hoped that would be it.

Daphne, you gotta do something!

She was worrying too much; the plan wasn't lost yet. Had she forgotten that Daphne was doing this for her?

The slightly singed girl looked up and groaned, and Warrington approached her with a furious expression.

"Now... now you'll learn what real pain feels like."

Warrington's wand was moving, no doubt about to cast one pain curse or another. Daphne's eyes widened as her gaze met Potter's for a moment.

Oh hell. If he cast that at her, then they might all... everyone...

She didn't quite understand, but she knew it was bad. Something apparently not even the Dark Lord had been able to defend himself against.

Warrington's wand began to glow red, and his mouth opened, and finally, there was a flash of red.

The large boy toppled over, and crashed to the ground right in front of Potter, whose wide eyes once again found hers as Daphne lowered her still glowing wand. The redhead let out a sigh of relief, and gave her a thankful look, and then she saw it. A flicker.

This was it. This was her chance.

Without hesitation, Daphne reached out, and within.

The girl's eyes seemed to grow, further and further, until they swallowed up her entire vision, wrapping around her, and she felt herself plunge into the depths of her mind—straight past whatever it had been that had been warning her off—visions and colors soaring past her. And then she saw it.

Memories. All around her. Flashes of her life growing up with her brother, going to school, learning magic, adventures, mishaps, and even her training with him. And not even a hint of occlumency. That... that was it? What had she even been worried about?

Right, no time to waste. With determination, she reached out to guide her thoughts to the one thing she sought to hide, and—

The swirling memories froze all around her in an instant, the pictures, sounds, smells, feelings, all of it simply halted right where it had been. All that remained was a distinct vivid impression of herself being caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

A female voice—not Potter's, somehow different—echoed from everywhere and nowhere in her own mind. "Oh no you don't."

The cookie jar was slammed shut with her hand still inside.

Pain.

Pain unlike anything she had ever felt flooded through her entire being. It felt like her mind was on fire, squashed to jelly, and electrocuted all at once, and her entire body was dragged with it. All the images around her had faded, and they were slowly being replaced by an overwhelming, all-encompassing presence. She pulled as hard as she could, scrambling to retreat into the safety of her own mind, but the abyss refused to let her go. She had peered someplace nobody should, and now she was paying the price.

Her mind snapped back, and folded in on itself, as she felt her thoughts being forced into a circle, until at last, blackness took her.

~V~

"Greengrass? What's going on? Are you alright?"

Iris shook the shoulders of the black-haired witch who had just saved her butt from being tortured or something, and probably everyone else's from being treated to an unhealthy dose of radiation.

At first, she had been kind of annoyed at the witch, she knew the girl could more than hold her own in a duel, yet she had seemed too scared to move throughout the whole thing, but then she had come in clutch right at the end, only to collapse right on the spot for apparently no reason whatsoever. She swept her gaze around the room and swallowed. At least fifteen students were sprawled over the ground. And if one of them wasn't actually unconscious, they were doing a damn good job of pretending that they were.

She threw a wary glance at the door. If someone were to walk in on this right now... what on earth could she tell them? Hadn't one of the prefects been right outside? He must have heard something, right? Or... had he been in on it as well?

How had they even known that Greengrass and her would be coming to the dueling ring right now? If Snape hadn't pretty much spelled it out for them, they wouldn't have come here at all. And she was sure that whatever was going on, Snape had nothing to do with it.

At least Greengrass seemed to still be breathing, but...

Should she go and get help? But then what would she tell people when they asked? Would it be better to try and take Greengrass to the hospital wing? But that left the same issue wide open. She didn't think Greengrass would rat on her, she had even helped her in the end, and had looked like she'd rather be anywhere else throughout the whole thing. And the others? It wasn't like she could somehow wipe their minds or something.

But then again... What if she just did... nothing? The others couldn't tell on her without both admitting that they had attacked her, and that she had somehow beaten them—which, holy shit. She still wasn't quite sure how she had done that. Adrenaline was still pumping through her system, preventing her from dwelling on Hows and Whys all too much for the moment. Blinking her eyes, her red-tinted vision was slowly returning to normal. That had been another thing that had been odd about this fight. It had happened before, but never this much, or for this long.

Where was she? Right. Maybe she really should just make a getaway before anyone came to check, especially the prefect in front of the door. Also, it could make the whole thing even more unbelievable if she just took a shortcut through the shadows—nobody would ever see her leave. But could she really leave Greengrass behind like this?

The more she thought about it, the surer she grew. Yes, the shadows definitely were her best option to try and get out of this. But that also meant she had to leave Greengrass behind, since she couldn't carry her in the shadow realm due to, well, that being impossible. It wasn't like they were friends or anything anyway.

Speaking of, friends! Warrington had taunted her about Tracey being off limits. Iris ground her teeth. If they ever got anywhere close-

Or what if they already had? That settled it. Picking her wand back up, she reached a hand, peeled open the shadows and stepped beyond.

A quick glance through the gaps behind the door confirmed that indeed, Mortymer was pacing in front of the locked door leading to the dueling ring. She'd love to see his face when he finally decided to open it. But she had bigger fish to fry right now. Iris took off into a sprint down the dark and twisted corridors towards the common room. She usually avoided it in the shadow realm on principle, but now she would have to make an exception. And she was glad that she did.

What on earth was Theo doing with the Carrow twins? She saw them exchange some looks, until he finally nodded, and stalked off towards a seat at the back—not their usual seat, she noted. Too curious for her own good, Iris peeled open the shadows in a dark corner of the common room, stepped out and down the inverted staircase, all the way up to the place where Theo had sat down.

"Hey!"

Theo actually flinched, then turned to look at her, and his expression fell. "Oh. Hey, Iris."

"Theo? What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth, closed it again, frowned and looked to the side. Finally, he spoke up, "Iris... I need to tell you something. Well, two things, actually."

"Okay... what's up?" Iris tilted her head.

"I saw Malfoy and Warrington sweeping around, talking with several people, and I'm pretty sure your name came up a few times. You... might wanna watch out."

Iris gave him a wry smile. "Yeah... Thanks. But there's no need to worry about that."

"I'm serious! There were at least ten of them! And I don't think they were talking about friendly pranks either!"

"Fifteen, actually," Iris replied, unable to suppress a smirk.

Theo's eyebrows went up. "Do I even want to know?"

"What are you talking about?" returned Iris cheekily.

Theo sighed. "Right."

He looked around the room for a bit, and then his expression firmed. "There was another thing I've wanted to talk to you about, for a while now actually."

"Oookay?" Iris replied hesitantly at the way he had said that.

"Do you know about my father?" he asked simply.

Silence followed the wake of that statement. Of course she knew. It was one of the first things Tracey had told her when Theo had approached them first with his offer of friendship. Tiberius Nott had been one of the Dark Lords followers, even rumored to be one of his inner circle, but much like Lucius Malfoy, he had been released of all charges after he claimed to have been under the influence of the Imperius curse. She had been under the impression that Theo gave as much of a toss about the opinions of his father as he did about pretty much everyone else in their house, maybe except for her and Tracey.

"Things... have changed. Now that he is back. Originally, I told him that I had made friends with you in order to get close to you, that I had you eating out of my hand. You know, that it was all part of my master plan."

Iris' eyes widened. She hadn't thought that Theo would be talking to his father about her at all.

"That worked well enough, I'm still not sure if he believed me, or just didn't care enough to do anything since it didn't really matter anyway and my excuse was good enough... But ever since he is back, that's not how it works anymore. There is a real danger to us being seen together, and not just to him, or to me."

Iris felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she processed his words, but she refused to comprehend them. Was he saying...

"I... I'm sorry. I think it's best if we're not seen together for a while. I'm not saying that I don't want to be your friend... just that I can't."

No. He wasn't really doing that, was he? "...Theo?"

His expression was stony, blank, and he barely moved his lips as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Iris."

He got up from his seat, looking as calm and composed as any pureblood heir, and left down the one staircase she could never follow.

~V~

Iris was getting desperate. After the thing with Theo, she had reluctantly gone looking for Tracey, only to find her luckily safe, but sadly still miffed at their last conversation. She returned to the common room to find it abuzz with students, apparently including her would-be attackers, and once she entered, it seemed the entire room had collectively decided to fall silent. Nobody was even whispering; everyone was just shooting wary looks her way. This time, they were probably deserved. But she'd still prefer that to jumping at shadows for a year when the only reason people left her alone was because of a giant bluff. Iris shrugged and kept walking down the hall, towards the entrance, and without a word, left the common room. The fact that Snape hadn't shown up so far was giving her hopes that the combined shame and fear of punishment had kept them from telling their head of house what had transpired in the dueling ring. Iris wondered what had happened to Greengrass, however. But right now, she had a different destination in mind.

"Hey, Harry! What's up?" Iris said, trying to sound her usual cheerful self, as she took a seat next to him in the great hall.

"Hey Iris. Not much, I'm still trying to figure out what actually happened in the library. Did you sort things out with Greengrass?"

Iris squirmed. "Uh... yeah. Kinda. Have you seen her?"

"Well, yeah, I think she just left."

Iris blinked. What? She was okay? She'd been here? And she hadn't told anyone either?

"Anyway, I think I'll go and talk to Luna after her Herbology class. I think they are out at greenhouse four today," Harry said.

To Luna? Wait, did he think that it had been her? No way, the chance if it actually being Luna was about as low as it being Harry.

"Great, I'll come with you," Iris declared.

Harry frowned, and shook his head.

"Ah, don't worry, I got this. If anything comes up, I'll tell you at dinner."

Iris narrowed her eyes. "You know what's going on. It's better if we stick together. The heir even attacked someone in the middle of the library!"

Harry sighed. "I think I can handle walking to the greenhouses by myself, you know?"

Harry held her stare for a few seconds, until Iris said, "If you say so, but I-"

Iris trailed off as she picked up the second half of what Hermione had just said to Neville.

"-No, if anything, this is our best chance! If we can figure this out, it'll lead us right to the heir!"

Neville perked up. "I know a room on the seventh floor, I think there's a Pensieve in there. If we can use that..."

"What are you guys talking about?" Iris cut in; eyebrows raised.

Hermione exchanged a look with Neville, and then they both shot her a look. "Not here. We'll tell you later, depending on if it works."

"You've got a memory? Of the heir?" came the excited question of Parvati Patil sitting across from them.

"Sshh! Not that loud!" Hermione replied in a hushed tone.

"Right, right..." replied Parvati with an excited gleam in her eyes.

Iris stared at them in disbelief. If their intention had been for the entire school to know by dinner, they had done a bang-up job. What the hell were they up to?

"Well, I'm off. See you!" came Harry's voice from across her, as he got to his feet. Iris frantically looked between the two of them, but then decided to go after Harry. Whatever was going on with them, Harry came first.

She followed him down the hall, out the door, and down the staircase towards the path leading to the greenhouses, when she finally caught up with him.

"Iris. I told you, I'm good," said Harry exasperatedly.

"I've got a free period anyway, so what's the deal?" Iris retorted.

Harry slowly came to a stop and shot her an annoyed look. "The deal is you treating me like I can't be trusted to walk ten meters by myself."

Well, yeah, she supposed she had been sticking to him a lot, but well, with what has been happening, the things the heir had done... And there was also the fact that despite what Harry thought, he really couldn't defend himself. Not like she could.

Iris replied carefully, "I'm just worried about you, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I know. Believe me. But really, it's fine. It's just Luna."

Iris perked up. "Yeah! I wanna visit her too!"

But she had never been able to bullshit Harry like that.

"Right. Of course you do. Guess I'll go and visit her later then," he said, and indignantly turned around on his heel.

Iris turned indignant as well. "Come on! Now you're just being an idiot."

"I don't need you to hover over me every minute of the day, all right?" Harry groaned, and turned to head back the other way towards the greenhouses again.

"But you can't walk about all alone! It's dangerous! And the heir might be after you especially! You know that! I'm coming with you, and that's final!" Iris declared.

Harry whirled back around, now slightly red faced and exclaimed, "You're not my mum, alright? I can take care of myself!"

Harry spun on his heel and stalked down the corridor, alone.

Iris was looking after his retreating form, but she hadn't managed to take another step. Or say another word.

What.

Of course she wasn't. But-

What had just happened?

She felt something on her chin, and only after several long seconds, long after Harry's form had disappeared around a turn, had she realized that it had been her tears.

~V~

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good!"

The map came to life, filled in with shapes, dots, lines, and... again no names. Or, well, there were names, just not the right ones. For the past month, the map had always shown him this scrambled nonsense whenever he had tried it. It still showed the corridors, and the positions of people, just that their names were all messed up. He glared down at what was probably his own dot labelled with an unreadable squiggle. Then, his eyes swept over to the other side of the room on the map, and fell onto the dot helpfully labeled Brian. A look up from the map matched that dot up with Lockhart, who was waiting on the other side of the hallway, while Neville was pacing in the center of the corridor, next to Hermione. Said two were respectively labeled Mipsy and Nicolas. He wasn't sure if the names stayed consistent, at least his own seemed to, but he swore he had seen other people labeled Brian before. But, at least, it was still consistent in telling them where someone was; if someone was approaching. And that was the main thing they needed it for right now.

A large door materialized out of thin air in the middle of the seventh floor, and Neville pushed it open to reveal a massive room. He couldn't even quite see where it ended, only that it was filled with... stuff. So much stuff.

"And you think there's a Pensieve in there?" asked Lockhart hesitantly.

"Well, there might be," said Neville.

"But that doesn't matter anyway. What matters is that the heir thinks there might be," added Hermione.

That's right. This was a plan the likes of which only Hermione could come up with. Yeah, Harry had been annoyed at Iris smothering him the past weeks, but in reality, half the reason he had snapped at her was to get her to be as far away from this as possible. If they were going to lure the heir into a trap, things might go wrong. Yeah, they had Lockhart with them, but he still wasn't going to expose Iris to that kind of danger if he could help it. He still kind of felt bad about the expression on her face at the end, but it wasn't like he had said anything all that bad, just enough to get her to leave him alone, so she would be safe. Also, he had really wanted to talk to Luna. The whole point was that all the 'suspects' were aware of what they were doing, no matter how unlikely it was of it actually being them. Most of the rest of the school would hopefully get the news from the grapevine—and Tracey definitely would, so there was no need to talk to her in person—but Luna didn't talk much with other people, other than Ginny, that was. Hermione had said she would try to make sure the news got to Lily too. And yes, in the end, it did seem pretty obvious that they were letting things slip on purpose, but they were banking both on the fact that the heir couldn't risk the chance of it actually being true, as well as that he wouldn't expect Lockhart.

Harry swiped his bushy brown hair out of his face, and blushed again. The original plan had been a bit different, but once Lockhart had entered the picture, it had changed, but Harry wasn't sure if it was for the better. He was supposed to be the decoy, the main threat that the heir would focus on, while Lockhart, currently polyjuiced as Neville—who was widely known for being... well... not so great with a wand—would take out the heir. Still, if Lockhart was as good as they said, the plan did sound... solid enough? It sounded just like something out of his books, at least.

The real Neville and Hermione would act as backup under his cloak, and would be wearing sunglasses the whole time, just to be safe. Lockhart had insisted that Harry wear them too, but Harry had smacked that down. He could hear the basilisk anyway, and if Hermione would be snooping around this room wearing sunglasses in the dark, that would definitely give away their trap. So in the end, Lockhart had relented.

The real Hermione gave each of them another look and asked, "Ready?"

A collective nod, and the real Hermione and Neville disappeared underneath the cloak. Harry was left with the not-so-real Neville standing across from him with a grim expression. Finally, Harry jerked his head and stepped towards the door, and inside, with Lockhart following after him.

The room looked even larger from the inside. Tall stacks of desks, cupboards, chairs and other things towered to all sides, stacked up so far that it was a major miracle that they hadn't toppled yet, and the space in between was filled with what could only be described as... stuff. Clocks, potions bottles, books, clothes, a bicycle, lampposts, a whole goddamn horse-drawn carriage sans the horse, and that was just the things directly in his field of vision.

They didn't even have to look all that long. Lockhart waved him over towards one of the alcoves in between the towers of random things, and on the floor, surrounded by an assortment of what looked like muggle toy cars, stood a small stone pedestal, and above it rested a small shallow silver bowl filled with water. Except there were faint wisps of white mist emanating from its surface. Perfect. Now, they just had to wait. Harry joined Lockhart in front of what was apparently a Pensieve. Harry had no idea what it did or how it worked, other than it had something to do with memories, and would be the key to uncovering the heir. If they actually had a memory of the heir, that was.

Which they didn't. But they were hoping that the heir didn't know that.

Harry took out the map again and checked it over. To the side of the entrance outside the room there were two dots huddled around a corner, Mipsy and Nicolas, safely hidden under the cloak right next to the entrance of a secret passage leading to the great hall, in case things went south. So far so good. Harry took a breath and strained his ears for any sign of the basilisk. He really would have preferred to just try using a rooster, but using the human version seemed like the next best thing. Also, if the basilisk didn't show up, or if the heir got away, the second purpose of Hermione and Neville outside was to try and get a glimpse at the heir, in which case, the Pensieve would actually come into play.

"Well, I'll be damned, it's actually functional..." mumbled Lockhart next to him.

Harry turned to look at Lockhart, who had poured a silvery liquid into the bowl, and was now staring at it intently. He leaned closer to get a look, but something caught his eye from the corner of his vision, and he turned to look down at the map. A dot was approaching. This one was labeled Dobby. What on earth?

Here? But also, hadn't he said that he was no longer Dobby? Oh, and yeah, of course the map was still malfunctioning, so... Well, that just meant that he had no idea what that meant.

The dot came down the corridor, passed his two co-conspirators, continued further, until he reached the entrance to this room, and... continued down the hall.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He turned to look back at Lockhart, who swished his wand over the bowl, causing the surface to turn from the moving shapes and colors of before back to a clear misty liquid, then he placed the tip of his wand into the bowl. Harry gasped.

A new dot had appeared, he hadn't exactly seen where it had come from, but it was closing in fast. And it was labeled Lily.

Was it actually her? But then again, the names were all scrambled up, maybe it didn't mean anything at all? Harry shot Lockhart a meaningful look and pointed at the dot, which had come to a stop in front of the entrance. It seemed to hesitate, then move along in the other direction. The tension left Harry again, and he turned to look back at Lockhart, who was shooting him a serious expression. "Look."

He looked back down at where he was pointing, and saw that the dot had turned around, and was now coming back. Closer and closer, until it stopped, again right in front of the entrance. Then, it disappeared.

Harry's eyes widened. He tensed, and gripped his wand underneath his robes. Lockhart's expression had become stony. He strained his ears, listening for the sound of footsteps, rustling, anything, but he refused to turn around. Lockhart would come through, all he had to do was stick to the plan.

He was just carefully watching Lockhart's hands, waiting for the signal. Harry took a deep breath, and held it.

Lockhart's off-hand closed into a fist. Without hesitation, Harry began the motions of the familiar pattern and shouted "Protego!"

Next to him, Lockhart—under the cover of his shield—whirled and cast a bright red spell at a silhouette standing behind them. Harry strained his eyes, but all he could make out were Hogwarts robes, and a hooded face. The figure whipped up a wand, and cast a red reflective shield, returning the spell back at them, until it splashed into Harry's shield with a shower of sparks. Lockhart's wand was moving like a blur, and three successive spells came flying at their would-be attacker, the first of which got deflected—but the second managed to shatter the shield, and the third was only dodged by a hair's breadth.

His wand brightly glowing, Lockhart shouted "IMPEDIMENTA!"

A bright flash of white light came hurling down the distance and engulfed the figure, causing a shiver of air that lingered even after the spell had faded. The heir was staggering, seemed to move sluggishly, and Lockhart grinned victoriously as he raised his wand, but the heir had beaten him to it.

The silhouette raised a wand up high, straight into the air, and it started to glow. "TEMPEST!" came a yell. Harry didn't recognize the voice, but then again, it had sounded off, a bit distorted, but very distinctly female. But if their suspect list had been accurate, that was to be expected.

He didn't have any further time to think about that, as a wall of wind hit them like a cannon blast. Rain, a crack of thunder, and a storm so ferocious that he expected the castle to come crumbling at any moment.

That was about the last thing they saw of the figure, as the force of nature made short work of the flimsily piled objects around the room and turned the narrow aisle into a mountain of junk barricading their path. Harry turned to Lockhart—trying to hold on to the stone pillar for dear life—when suddenly, the silver bowl atop it glowed blue for a second, and then was yanked off the pedestal and soared off into the distance; out of sight.

~V~

Hermione wasn't so sure anymore that this was a good idea. Yes, it had been her plan to begin with, but... Now that they were actually doing it- What on earth was going on in there?

At first, she had almost thought it would be Moon, but then... the girl had just left, and she had barely noticed when this hooded figure had showed up. She hadn't managed to get a good look with her sunglasses on, the hood was covering a lot of their face, and before she could do anything about it, the figure had entered the room.

Hermione nibbled her lip, exchanging worried glances with Neville, until, they both jumped as what sounded like a goddamn thunderclap echoed from the room and tossed the door back open. An onslaught of wind and water blew from the door, as if a full-blown storm was raging inside. What-

The figure came stumbling out the door, clutching something in their hand. Hermione strained her eyes, but she still couldn't make out the face. Getting desperate, she removed her sunglasses, trying to get a better look.

The heir—and it had to be, after what had just happened—seemed to be running, except somehow in slow-motion. It looked like they were running, but their movements were sluggish, resulting in their total speed being just slightly faster than walking. Just when she thought she might finally get a good look, the heir turned, and slowly ran down the other direction—away from them. Hermione exchanged a determined look with Neville, who seemed to have had the same idea.

Since there seemed to be no sign of the basilisk so far, Hermione thought they could risk it. She began shuffling forward, Neville next to her still under the cloak, moving after the hooded figure, and slowly catching up. They were gaining, they could make it. Hermione was palming her wand warily. Should she risk trying to cast a spell? A hesitant glance at the door revealed only piles of junk, no sign of their polyjuiced counterparts. She really hoped they were okay.

Then, something changed. The sluggish movements grew faster, and faster, and soon, they weren't gaining on the heir, but losing ground. She exchanged another look with Neville, and they redoubled their speed, clumsily stumbling after the heir. They turned a corner, then another, and then-

A spike of pain shot through her foot as Neville stepped on it and Hermione let out an "Eep!"

Clutching her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror, she tried to stifle the noise, but it was too late. The heir spun around, wandless, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the hooded face—

No way, was that...

A flicker from the corner of her eye, a flash of yellow. She looked up—

The last thing Hermione saw was a gigantic, slitted yellow eye, searing its image into her mind.