The Horned Serpent common room was in high spirits all evening long. Harry, Othniel and Tallulah were bursting with pride and couldn't wait to congratulate Ana on a well-earned victory in the Quiz Bowl.

"You were awesome tonight, Ana," exclaimed Harry when she arrived in the common room with her teammates. "How're you feeling?"

"Exhausted," Ana declared. She grinned at her friend. "And thank you. I'm just glad it's over!"

"You totally killed it out there," Othniel added. "I'm sure you're shot, but if you've got anything left in the tank, would you care to join us for a round of Egyptian Rat Screw?"

"You got off to a bit of a rough start, but it didn't take you too long to settle in," chimed in Tallulah. "You've got some ice in those veins, girl."

Ana removed the pendant that Tallulah lent her. "I don't know what kind of enchantress your great grandmother was," she admitted, "but there's something uncanny about this necklace. Goodness gracious, I couldn't have fathomed how positively nerve-wracking the competition could be… but when I read that inscription, it's like this soothing song played just for me… and my anxieties just sort of disappeared. I can see why it's so special… you've got to hang on to this. Thank you for letting me borrow it." She then turned toward Othniel and offered a small smile. "I'm really tired, Othniel, but I suppose I might be down for a game. I'll just need a few minutes to get changed into comfy clothes."

"Don't take too long," urged Othniel. "It's already past nine…"

Less than an hour later, the boisterous crowd in the common room dispersed for the evening. Harry and Othniel wasted no time getting into their pajamas and crawled into their respective four-posters; indeed, they were both out within a matter of minutes.

Several hours later, Harry began to shiver. The air wasn't cold; rather, he felt an eerie presence. He sat up in his sheets, and flinched at the strange spectral visage before him. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming again, or if it was real…

The spectre wasn't nearly as frightening as the demonic presence that taunted him in his nightmare a few nights earlier, but it certainly wasn't a face he recognized. It was a girl, he noticed, perhaps Missy's age, though she was shorter and pudgier and with a bob-cut of chestnut hair, with an unflattering sneer fixed on her face. Harry turned toward Othniel and began to whisper to him… "Hey, Othniel… do you feel that?"

Othniel didn't so much as stir, which only deepened Harry's confusion. If this was really a ghost, couldn't his roommates also feel the supernatural presence? He fixed his gaze on the spectral visitor again. He pinched himself on the rear-end… but his roommates remained asleep, and the shimmering presence remained.

"It's your fault I died, Potter," the girl wheezed.

Harry tilted his head and gave the ghost a puzzled expression. "My fault? Who are you? And how do you know who I am?"

The girl deepened her sneered at Harry. "Merlin, you're daft." She let out a long, airy sigh. "I was Morgan Doolittle. Ring a bell?"

Harry's head tilted further. "Yeah," he admitted. "I've heard of you, but I don't remember meeting you, so you'll have to forgive my ignorance." He blinked slowly. "Why are you here? Can I, erm, help you?"

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived," continued Morgan in her haughty tone. "You're the only one who can help me."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "How did you know that? Not many people at Ilvermorny seem to know, or at least care about my past…"

"Hello, Potter," came Morgan's sarcastic reply. "Most of the rabble don't know of your heritage, but to the Old Money families, you are quite well-known… many of our families are related to the ones in Magical Europe, after all." Her silvery face turned a darker gray. "And as ashamed as I am to admit it, you and I are distantly related…"

Harry's cheeks flushed with anger. "Believe me, I find that equally distasteful. Maybe I don't want to help you, considering your reputation while you were alive. Maybe you deserved your fate of wandering the castle halls for all eternity. Why don't you just save your breath, and leave me be?" He began to turn away from Morgan and tried to settle back in for the night.

Morgan's tone changed, sounding far more urgent this time. "Potter, wait…"

Harry let out a frustrated groan. "This had better be important, Doolittle," he spat with impatience.

"Promise me you'll find and destroy the Orb of Exuberance," Morgan pleaded. "I beg you. It's an unholy device crafted in the Burning Hells by Lucifer himself… only once it's destroyed, will I find peace in the afterlife."

Harry's nostrils flared. "I've already planned to destroy the Orb. But know this, Doolittle, I'm not doing it for you. The reasons are mine, and mine alone."

Morgan shrugged. "Regardless of your reasons, if you manage to destroy the Orb, you'll have my gratitude."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "We'll see… you don't seem to be much nicer in death."

"Old habits die hard," replied Morgan.

"If you don't mind," yawned Harry, "I'd really like to get back to sleep. Between hauntings and nightmares, a good night's sleep has been rather hard to come by as of late." The shimmery form of Morgan's spirit gradually dissipated into thin air, and Harry drifted back to sleep.

It was already in the second half of October, and autumn was in full swing. The school grounds were littered with gold, orange, and red leaves from the myriad oak, maple, and elm trees that dotted the castle grounds. The joyous sounds of first and second-year students could be heard on the weekends, as they amassed enormous piles of leaves and cannonballed into them with reckless abandon. There was a general feeling of merriment throughout the campus, as Halloween was fast approaching, and the unmistakable scents of pumpkin and apple cinnamon candles wafted throughout the halls. At dinner, children could now ask to have their goblets filled with hot apple cider or pumpkin juice, in addition to the standard puckerberry juice.

Most of the faculty seemed to be in high spirits, except for the perpetually-cantankerous Madam L. In a particularly tense Thursday Potions class, poor Othniel had added ten lionfish spines to his Wiggenweld Potion in one go instead of separating them with a stir. An infuriated Madam L gave Othniel a zero for the day for not following instructions, in addition to a demerit. She looked about ready to knock his cauldron to the floor with her long, gnarled staff (which served mainly as a walking stick, but many of the students got the impression it was magically imbued and may have served as a backup wand of sorts), but instead just pounded the staff into the floor so hard that it probably should have shattered it. She muttered some colorful wizarding-slang under her breath before addressing Othniel in a more composed, controlled fashion.

"You're lucky your nose is still attached to your face, Beckett," she snarled, her beady eyes rife with frustration. "Inattentive students have lost appendages in the past, sometimes permanently. You may return to the next seminar after you've discussed with your house head why it's important to follow directions to a tee. I'll want both a signed note from Professor Frye, and a page and a half essay on the importance of following instructions. Depending on your grammar and sincerity, I may be inclined to give you a small amount of credit back. Until then, get out of my sight." She pointed a long, crooked finger toward the door.

Othniel hurriedly packed his belongings and left the classroom without so much as a peep. Some of the remaining students snickered to themselves, but Madam L wouldn't have any of it. "Silence," she barked. "I may have made an example out of Mister Beckett, but be mindful… it could have just as easily been any of the rest of you. He was foolish enough to get caught this time… but judging by the results of some of your previous… attempts at potion making, the lot of you have hardly been perfect. The next person who laughs at another student's expense will also be dismissed and referred to their house head. No exceptions. Potions is no joke – only the most serious minds can truly master this delicate and arcane art." She shook her head in frustration. "As you were," she sighed.

About forty minutes later, she checked samples from her pupils. She stopped by Tallulah's desk first and inspected a flask. "Not bad, Miss Slater," she murmured with a curt nod of approval. "Exceeds Expectations… and a point to the Horned Serpents for following directions."

"Thank you, Madam L," squeaked Tallulah. She cocked her head. "What did I do wrong? What can I do to get an Outstanding?"

"I don't simply give a pupil an Outstanding," replied Madam L coolly. "You appear to have the aptitude to be a competent potioneer, young lady. You'll need to blow my mind to earn an O… and you're nowhere near that level yet." She then reached over to look over Harry's sample. "Solid work, Potter," she purred. "What I just told Slater also applies to you… you've proven that you can follow instructions and create a respectable elixir, but you'll have to go above and beyond to even dream of getting an O. Exceeds Expectations, and a point to the Horned Serpents for your efforts."

"Thanks, Madam L," Harry replied, grateful to have gotten even modest praise from the Potions Master. He then arched an eyebrow. "Erm, Madam L? If Tallulah and I can get Othniel to be even decent at Potions at some point this term, would that be enough for an O?"

Madam L laughed bitterly. "That'll be the day, Potter. Tell you what… if you and Slater can work with Beckett, and if I see noticeable improvement from him, I might give you two that O by the end of term." She eyed both Harry and Tallulah before letting out a rather unflattering snort. "Good luck… you're going to need it."

That afternoon, Harry, Othniel and Tallulah met with Professor Lupin in his office during their shared free period, as they've been doing for the past several weeks. Professor Lupin poured himself some hot Chai tea, while Harry enjoyed a cup of pumpkin juice, Othniel had some puckerberry juice, and Tallulah got a mug of hot apple cider with extra cinnamon.

"I'm sorry we missed each other yesterday," Lupin began, "but thanks to your friend Anastasia's… detective work a while ago, you know exactly why."

"Don't sweat it, Professor," Harry replied. "Like we said, your condition doesn't change how we feel about you. All three of us really like having you as our Defense teacher."

"At least you're nothing like Madam L," grumbled Othniel. "She gave me a zero for the day and referred me to my house head for messing up my Wiggenweld Potion… I know I wasn't the only student who mucked it up… I was just the unlucky one who got caught!"

"She is a bit on the grumpy side, isn't she?" chuckled Lupin. "She isn't the most popular instructor on the staff, but she also takes her craft very seriously. I've spent some time with her one-on-one, and I get the feeling that she wasn't always the callous, crass old cuss that we see today. Long ago – decades before even I was born, in fact – there was a global wizarding war that, until a certain Dark Lord came to power, was the worst our world had ever seen. There was a dark wizard named Gellert Grindelwald who held the belief that those gifted with magical capabilities were destined to rule the entirety of the world – magical and non-magical alike."

He smiled sadly at the children. "Madam L was a young woman then, probably about my age, give or take. She was vehemently opposed to the notion that witches and wizards were naturally superior, and that the no-maj population should be enslaved in retaliation for their acts of violence against the magical world in the centuries past. Her husband, Lech Lewandowski, was the no-maj born son of Polish immigrants who came to the United States in the first decade of the twentieth century. He went on to become one of the most legendary aurors in MACUSA history. He had taken down countless followers of Grindelwald, and even fought Grindelwald himself on multiple occasions."

Lupin then shook his head in despair. "In 1944, Lech was again challenged by Grindelwald to an honorable duel, which of course he accepted… but little did he know that he was being lured into a trap. Two of Grindelwald's most sadistic lieutenants, Konrad Hjeimdall and Lars van Krupp ambushed him in a Tyrolean cave and blasted him with the Cruciatus Curse. They then locked him up in Nuremgrad as a prisoner of war… while he maintained much of his sanity, the effects of the curse left him in a pained and weakened state. He was eventually released from the castle once Grindelwald was defeated, but he never made it home. Nobody knows precisely what happened… he may have perished on the journey home, or he may have been so badly tortured that he voluntarily took his own life… regardless, the loss of her husband left Gwendolyn bitter and lonely. She accepted employment at Ilvermorny not long after the war, hoping that working in an academic environment would give her purpose."

"She might have found purpose," surmised Tallulah, "but she found little joy. I don't think I've seen her smile once so far."

"You went to Hogwarts, right?" Othniel asked. "Did they offer you the Defense teaching position by any chance?"

Lupin let out a long, slow exhale. "Some… bridges have been burned," he creaked with shame. "I do maintain a positive relationship with some of the faculty there… but there are others who would not tolerate my presence…"

Harry bit his lip. "Because you have lycanthropy?"

"Partially, yes," replied Lupin. "My condition isn't exactly a well-guarded secret there. Furthermore, the Potions Master there and I don't really see eye-to-eye." He shrugged. "I don't have anything against him, personally, but he was a bit of a rival to your father and godfather, Harry. His dislike of me is basically a case of guilt by association."

Harry tilted his head. "Rival? In what sense?"

"First and foremost, we were all sorted in Gryffindor, but… Sevvy was placed in Slytherin. Gryffindor and Slytherin have been trying to one-up each other for ages, you see. It's easily the fiercest house rivalry at Hogwarts," murmured Lupin. He shrugged. "At his core, he is an honorable wizard, which is more than I can say about many of his old housemates, but their influence rubbed off on him, so he's done some… less-than-honorable things. Perhaps most damning of all was the falling out he had with your mother. He adored her, you see… but in a moment of weakness he said something that he truly regretted, and as a direct result of that she cut ties with him and chose James, your father."

"Would you trust him to craft Wolfsbane for you had you been appointed to the Defense post?" Tallulah asked innocently.

"I… I would like to say yes," admitted Lupin. "Unlike Sirius and James, I didn't partake in their personal rivalry with him. I saw what Lily saw… a flawed, but good person. It's just the company he kept that makes me a little wary… that being said, Professor Dumbledore does trust him quite deeply."

"Professor Dumbledore? As in, the Headmaster of Hogwarts?" chirped Tallulah.

"Correct, Tallulah," Lupin responded with a quick nod. "He's also the wizard who captured Grindelwald over forty five years ago!"

Othniel rubbed his chin. "D'you regret leaving Magical Britain, sir?"

"It's home, so there are times I do miss it," confirmed Lupin. He smiled warmly at the kids. "But when I see your bright and shining faces… I know I've found my calling."

Harry tapped Othniel and Tallulah on the shoulder. "Hey, d'you two mind stepping outside for just a few seconds? I have a personal question I'd like to ask the professor."

"That's fine, Harry," replied Tallulah softly. "Take your time." She and Othniel quietly left the room, leaving just Harry and Lupin.

"So… erm, Remus," Harry began, feeling somewhat uneasy as he'd just addressed his Defense teacher by his first name, "I think I just spoke with Morgan Doolittle's ghost last night… she visited me and kinda blamed me for her death. She then asked me to destroy the Orb of Exuberance as it would give her the peace she needs to rest easy in the afterlife…"

Lupin stroked his short, grizzled beard. "Did she say why she blamed you for her death? You didn't even know her, as far as I can tell…"

Harry shook his head. "That's the thing, I didn't know her. I mean, I know some people that did, and they didn't get along all that well with her… and honestly, she was about as arrogant in death as she was in life. I initially refused to hear her out… she's already dead, and not my – or anyone's – concern, to be honest."

He then let his head drop a bit. "She then sort of changed her tone a little bit, and basically begged me to destroy the Orb. I told her that I'd do it, but it's not for her sake. I saw that rod in my dreams some time ago… and it looks powerful… like, too powerful. I could do some really amazing things with it, but also some awful things with it… if I use it, I'm afraid I'll go dark forever…"

"Harry," murmured Lupin, "I don't think I'm the one that can help you interpret these dreams and hauntings… if you can, write down all that you can remember and give it to me. Every time you have some sort of extraordinary encounter – it can be either real or perceived – just write down whatever details you can remember, and hand them to me. We may have to consult Professor Haatali to see what this all means, as I genuinely believe he's the one best-equipped to make sense of this."

"All right," agreed Harry. "Just let me know."