A/N: Surprising myself, I've got this one in early. Hmm, must try to continue with that.
Disclaimer: I don't want this stuff, I'm working on my own story, and I happen to think it will be much cooler.
*****
Chapter Three
Friday morning began badly; I got detention and was summoned to the Headmistress' office. But compared to what would happen that afternoon it was like Uncle Ron beating Dad at Wizard's Chess: easy breezy.
With the Hogwarts Express due to leave that evening with the students going home for the holidays, the school was abuzz with activity as they tried to pack amidst calling goodbyes and pulling last minute pranks. I hid my envy by going down to the Slytherin dungeons with Rigel. Most of all I could not stand the sound of Hortense and Aisling excitedly discussing what they were going to do for the holidays. It was bad enough that I'd had to endure two days of teasing after the incident with Trelawney, but now all I heard about was how Hortense was going with her mother to her grandparents in France and since Aunt Luna was now editor of The Quibbler; Aisling would be at home with Carl, prospects which surprisingly excited them.
Also of late, I was troubled by my parents' Ministry assignment and the totalising effect it had on our lives. As my father was an Auror it was understood that from time to time he would have to go away, but since when did Unspeakables do field work? Though I have to admit that normally it probably wouldn't have bothered me that much, the fact that they both had gone to the same place this time, did.
Rigel, as usual, dismissed my concerns to focus on his own.
"It'll be boring in the mansion without you," he said as we began to descend to the dungeons, ignoring the fact that as a Gryffindor I really should not be there. But then again, it didn't really feel that proper for anyone else. It was as dark, arctic and forbidding as usual, with strange, unexplainable noises in dark corners and the torches burning low along the walls casting long shadows on anything under their light. It actually turned my hair red, so that I looked very much like Rigel's twin as we went.
"I've never gone before and you had fun, I doubt it'll be any different this time," I replied.
"Point taken, but I've always wanted you to come. Do you know that I missed you all those times that I went alone?" he asked.
I sighed, "Rigel, you know my parents would never allow it. You also know that your Grandmother would never agree to it. And most of all you know I don't want to go, at all, ever, so come off it before I push you down the stairs."
He grinned, "You can't do that. You're in Slytherin territory now; any attack would turn centuries of rivalry into open war."
I scoffed, "Over you?"
"Especially over me, didn't you see that prat Finnegan almost get torn a new one Monday?" he asked with a satisfied reminiscent grin.
"You're a right charmer, Malfoy," I said, rolling my eyes.
He began to laugh, but then stopped abruptly and looked straight ahead. I stopped as well and followed his eyes to discover the OGB waiting for us at the bottom of the staircase, and he didn't look happy. As a matter of fact, he was staring at me strangely and didn't catch himself until Rigel asked, "Sir… do you want something…?"
He came out of his daze with a slight start and barked almost automatically, though his voice broke and he stumbled over the words, "Detention! Miss Potter, y-you know f-full well that you are not-not… are not allowed in the Slytherin dungeons!"
Rigel and I stood frozen looking at him confused, there was no such rule. Not to mention he was stuttering, I never knew Snape stuttered, or could for that matter. But more than that it seemed that his embargo on me had ended, which was a frightful prospect at best.
Before we could protest though, he continued, "The Headmistress also wants Miss Potter to come to her office. I suggest you go immediately before I deduct points from Gryffindor for making me search for you."
I gave Rigel a pained look, then turned and headed back up the stairs as quickly as I could.
Having rarely made the trek to the Headmistress' office-not being the hell-raiser my father and grandfather were-it took me a while to find the stone gargoyle. But once I was there I had a bigger problem, I realised I didn't know the password, the OGB hadn't told me, and it was not common knowledge. As luck would have it though, the Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, more commonly known as Nearly Headless Nick, happened along the corridor just as I was about to turn back.
He was singing a cheery little carol while floating aimlessly between the decorations. But when he spotted me in the middle of the corridor, he stopped immediately and asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting? Or has the usually law-abiding Magnolia Potter finally followed in her father's and grandfather's infamous footsteps?"
I smiled, "Hello, Sir Nicholas. I don't think I've done anything wrong, but Professor McGonagall sent for me."
"Oh? Ah yes, Fawkes has returned," he replied with a smile. "And then the Divination teacher made another of her famous predications. Funny how the worst and true of them seem to be connected to your family… then again, you're Harry Potter's daughter, something would be wrong if something odd didn't happen to you, aye?"
I shrugged, and asked, "Er… you wouldn't happen to know the password, would you?"
"Oh yes, Wronski Feint," he said, and almost immediately the gargoyle rolled aside. Uninterested in that though, he continued, "Say, you wouldn't happen to be trying out for Chaser would you, our performance at the last match was deplorable…."
"Afraid not, but thanks for the password," I said and hurried away before he could come up with another question. I didn't mean to be rude, but if I gave him a chance he would have me out in the hall all morning.
The door opened before me just as I got to the top step and I entered the office to find Professor McGonagall waiting for me. Small and thin, dressed in heavy velvet tartan robes, with her now finally greying hair drawn into a severe bun, and her mouth set in its usual thin line, she didn't look particularly upset. As a matter of fact she was busily scratching away with an elegant black quill on a length of parchment. But then she never smiled, so I couldn't really tell what she was thinking.
I announced myself, "Professor McGonagall, you sent for me, ma'am… it's me, Lillie Potter…."
She greeted me in a neutral voice too, not even bothering to look up, "Have a seat, Miss Potter, and a biscuit."
I did as I was told; slipping uneasily into the leather armchair before her desk and taking a biscuit from the tartan print biscuit tin on the edge of her desk. The room was wonderfully warm, though through the window the pale, washed-out look of the school grounds sharply reminded me when I looked that we were in the early days of winter. But I restrained myself from getting too comfortable. The former Headmasters and Headmistresses in their portraits behind her, including Professor Dumbledore, were all unabashedly staring at me, also reminding me that I had been summoned and this was no courtesy call.
The first to speak though was Professor Dumbledore. From his portrait the kindly-looking old man with the long white beard, twinkling blue eyes and half-moon glasses, bent forward slightly as if to take a closer look and said, "My, Minerva, she has Harry's eyes… but her mother's hair."
Professor McGonagall looked up at me a moment, and replied neutrally, "Yes, she does."
"Poor thing," he said, and gave me a mischievous wink.
For a moment she looked as if she was going to smile, and then she said to me, "I did not ask you here to be teased, please forgive Albus… but Miss Potter, I'm sure you know the reason."
"Actually… I don't," I replied honestly.
She raised an eyebrow, "Do you know the last time we saw Fawkes?"
"The phoenix? Professor Hagrid said after the Second War," I said.
"Yes, quite shortly. According to some rumours, he's the reason your father survived, and therefore, to some extent, also the reason you exist…. When he left again we did not expect him to come back, and yet, here he is," she told me.
"Should I be worried then?" I asked, beginning to do just that.
"I don't think so," she replied. "There hasn't been a Death Eater attack in years, and of course, Hogwarts is the safest place to be, considering that your parents are off on assignment."
"But Professor Trelawney said…" I began to protest, not entirely sure where I was going with it. I didn't really believe a thing that mad cow had said.
Professor McGonagall gave a long sigh, "Miss Potter… Sybill is… well…."
Professor Dumbledore came to her rescue, "What I believe the dear Headmistress is trying to say, Miss Potter, is that for all the times that Sybill Trelawney has been right, there are twice as many that she has been wrong. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Hogwarts happens to be twice as secure now than it had been when your father attended, and I know for a fact that you are being just as closely watched."
That didn't sit well with me; I responded with a hint of insolence, "Do you know that my parents, Uncle Ron, Aunt Ginny and Aunt Tonks have all gone away on some secret assignment?"
Maddeningly, in return he just gave a smile that made his eyes twinkle and said, "They are not your only guardians, Magnolia. From personal experience your father can tell you that sometimes relatives may not be enough. But as I said before, you have nothing to worry about."
So what was the point of dragging me into the office then? I had a sneaking feeling that he didn't believe a word of what he was saying. And if he didn't, then he was shortly given a reason why he shouldn't have.
*****
If I hadn't waited to take my Pain-Relieving potion I would have never been in that bathroom. I was usually more organised than that, and especially when it came to my period, the pain was something not easily forgotten. But after I left the Headmistress' office I only just had time to gather my cloak, scarf, and hat and hurry down to the courtyard where the students leaving were going to the carriages. It was not long before I was rather dramatically reminded though. As I raced down the stairs even before they'd finished rearranging themselves, the pain cut through my lower stomach like a hot knife, and so raw it felt that my knees nearly buckled.
At once I stopped, hands in tight fists, willing the pain to subside. It eventually did, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it returned, and in my haste, much worse. Rigel would have to wait for the last carriage if he wanted me to see him off then, mad as he was going to be about it. When the step locked into place I hurried back up them again looking for a bathroom. As luck would have it the staircase had set me onto the Third Floor, and I quickly went into the girls' bathroom there, also known as Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
She pounced on me the instant I was through the door and digging through my pockets for the small packet of Muggle pills I had put in them earlier. (It would take longer for the effects to set in, but at least they worked.) Having formally had a crush on my father-and then later Rigel's-she still harboured some resentment for his apparent abandonment of her in favour of others, and later my mother. She was not pleased to see me, not that she was ever really pleased to see anyone, and she let me know it.
"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be going home with all the others?" she sneered.
"I'm sick," I replied, hurriedly downing the pills and a large gulp of water, trying my best to ignore her jibe. My mother told me it wasn't nice to be rude to ghosts.
"Sick? Did you catch a cold?" she asked, without a trace of any real interest or concern.
"No, I'm just sick," I replied.
"Oh, well then, if you die you can't stay here," she told me with a sniff.
"You can be assured," I said, turning away from the sink that I had been gripping tightly for a moment or so, willing the pills to work and the pain to subside, "that if I die I will not do it in here."
"Good, because there's only room enough for one-AAARGH! LOOK OUT!" she suddenly screamed and pointed behind me.
Normally I wouldn't have looked, not wanting to give her the satisfaction, and knowing her she would have been trying to trick me. But something in her transparent face conveyed real terror and I turned.
It was too late, I barely caught a glimpse at what it was before everything went suddenly, and painfully, black.
I remember being struck unconscious only one time before. I was four years old, and had gone with my mother to Professor Longbottom's house. She had something to collect and wanted to see his grandmother, he had some new plant to show her, and while they were at it I wandered out of the house into the backyard.
Though our backyard in Godric's Hollow boasted of a wonderful, colourful garden, filled with flowers and plants that my father and siblings and I attended to, Professor Longbottom's was still larger. With our Muggle neighbours we could not have magical plants without using magic to conceal them, but he could, and in addition, three large greenhouses containing even more. I was not allowed in any of them of course; some of the plants, and insects that swarmed them too, were very dangerous. But I was four, and at four I was fearless.
I made a beeline for the greenhouses as soon as I was outside, taking care to look out for his batty old grandmother (who wore her stuffed vulture hat everywhere then) and the two adults. No point in getting scolded when it could be avoided with care.
Halfway there though, I was distracted by Trevor, his old toad, hopping along a bed of hydrangeas, seeking shade from the unrelentingly bright summer sun. I stopped and looked at it for a moment, and then quickly changed direction deciding to catch it instead.
"Come back here Trevor, come on, I'm not going to hurt you!" I called, running wildly over beds in a speedily heated chase. Despite his age, Trevor was hopping higher and faster than my little feet could carry me, desperate to get away. Lucky for him it was difficult to navigate the obstacle course the Longbottom backyard had become with my eyes on the ground. And even luckier, the hem of my dress-which my mother had insisted I wear that day though I hated dresses in general-kept catching on thorns and the chicken-wire Uncle Neville used to protect some of the plant beds. It was only a matter of time before I fell and was coshed by some stray object.
I saw the vine before my foot hooked and I still ran into it. I fell quickly, feeling the impact before I hit the stone, and then everything was black.
The next thing I was conscious of was my mother's voice as she cried over me. She was cradling me to her chest, rocking gently in what she must have thought was a soothing motion but was actually making me dizzy. But the one thing that stuck with me, long after I woke fully, was run over by a series of Healing spells and taken home, was the fact that if I had been more careful I wouldn't have fallen. If I had simply gone to the greenhouses instead of followed the stupid toad I wouldn't have hit my head. Later I would acknowledge that if I'd listened to the adults in the first place I wouldn't have been outside to get hurt, but again, I was four at the time.
This time though, my fall was anything but an accident caused by my disobedience. This time it was because of someone else's.
I awoke in a cascade and slid heavily to the cold, wet floor. Almost immediately I started coughing, choking on the water in my throat and lungs, and vomited water and some of breakfast. And then I was on my side, my face resting into a puddle that had no business being there. But then, I also had no business being wet, and yet there I was.
Presently I became aware of someone-presumably my rescuer-at my side, gently shaking me. I could not clearly see them, but I could hear them, pleading with me to wake up and then at the same time yelling over her shoulder for help. My head was throbbing, and the sound of their calls was only making it worse. I put a hand to the spot and groaned. Immediately, the pleading and yelling stopped and the voice asked firmly, "Magnolia… Magnolia, are you okay? Can you breathe?"
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, reopened them and attempted to focus. At first all the world looked black and grey, but after a time I found myself staring into the pleats and soaked hem of a dark grey skirt, and then up at a matching jumper, green and silver-striped tie with white collared shirt, and finally, the face of Camilla Longbottom. To say that she was the last person I expected to see would be an understatement, but so would be saying that I expected to wake up in a puddle of water on the floor.
I shut my eyes again, shivered now, gave a gasp of pain and tried to sit up. But I felt heavier than before; soaked through and through my uniform and robe combined with gravity to trap me to the ground. It took two attempts to get me sitting upright and after a moment of dizziness, to reply, "I-I'm fine… I think-I… where am I?"
Camilla did not reply at once, I forced my eyelids apart and looked at her, and then she said, "In the prefects' bathroom."
"What?" I asked, and turned sharply away from her to take in my surroundings. She was not lying; we were in the prefects' bathroom, the hallowed ground of Fifth and Sixth Years with its swimming pool-sized bath and ornate stained-glass windows of beautiful mermaids. How I could have possibly gotten there from Myrtle's bathroom though eluded me.
I decided to ask her. "Do you know how I got in here?"
She took a moment to reply and then said gravely, "Two girls, over there."
I turned where she'd indicated to find the two, apparently Slytherins, slumped over beside the door. Camilla must have stunned them as they were leaving and she coming in, but why had they tried to drown me?
When I looked back at her with this question, she continued, "I don't know who they are-for they're no Slytherins I know-or why they did this, but you're lucky I saw them as I was going down. They were levitating you between them, and one was acting as if she didn't care she might get caught-I think they may have been under the Imperius Curse though, and she was trying to throw it off-anyway, I followed and saw them drop you in the bath. When they turned to leave I stunned them and got you out."
I looked back at the two girls, shuddered, and said, "Thanks."
Camilla shook her head, "Don't, let's just get you to Madam Pomfrey."
She rose off the floor and made to help me, but when I drew my legs up I found that I must have hit something else before I hit the ground. My chest was sore as if I'd damaged something in there, something that was now making it painful to breathe.
"I guess we better hurry then," said Camilla and together we limped out of the bathroom to the Hospital Wing. It was a long, slow, painful and embarrassing walk. All the way there we slowly gathered a crowd from the remaining students, curious and whispering about how I had managed to be dripping wet on a cold wintry day. I, for one, blamed Professor Trelawney, but they clearly had some better theories from the looks they gave me as I went. And I could guess that some of them were connected to Rigel, they always were. Thank goodness that Eoin had left earlier; he would have made my life hell after this.
When she saw us standing in the doorway, Madam Pomfrey didn't even bat an eyelid before quickly ushering me off to a bed. And then it was not long before I was being poked and prodded with a wand while a series of questions rushed at me in rapid-fire succession. But the walk to the Infirmary had left me dizzy and in the end I only vaguely registered Camilla responding to a few while Madam Pomfrey cast a Drying Charm. My clothes felt immediately lighter, but the shivering didn't stop, and then a vial was shoved into my hands and she commanded, "Drink!"
"What is it?" I asked, fighting off a blanket that had suddenly appeared and enveloped me.
"It's for some of the pain, you're properly bruised. I don't think the blow to your head is going to leave a scar… but can you tell me what happened exactly?" she demanded.
I shook my head, "I'm not sure… I wish I knew myself…."
"Well, in time you might remember, until then you need to rest, so drink up and get right to it-while this young lady here might see about getting you some fresh clothes? Oh, you're in Slytherin…?" she said, turning to Camilla while pressing the small vial to me again.
It was not to my mouth though when I was suddenly enveloped in stiff black wool and fiery red hair. I nearly dropped it, trying not to suffocate in the chest against my face, and not die of the pain that shot up through my chest and head again, but I was thankfully rescued by Madam Pomfrey going, "Rigel Weasley! Give Miss Potter some room to breathe, you'll suffocate her!"
He reluctantly relented, and I was surprised to look up and discover that it was him-how he'd heard about it in the courtyard so fast I'll never know-and that he was looking rather ill. Rigel usually schooled his emotions well, (rule 10: Malfoys don't show emotion) and so much so that when he was really upset you could never tell, but today he looked mildly like Mundungus Fletcher when my Dad caught him pilfering decorations last Christmas. He was doing his best to cover it though, for he haughtily addressed me, ignoring her, "Are you alright, Magnolia? What happened? Who did this to you?"
"You heard me Mr Weasley, back off," she warned him.
He turned to her, "Madam Pomfrey my very best friend has just been hurt, I'm concerned about her well being."
"You're not helping by smothering her, or with your questions," she snapped. "Now let her drink this potion and rest, and maybe someone can get her fresh clothes…."
As if on cue, the door to the Infirmary flew open and in came Aisling and Hortense looking as pale and worried as Rigel. They hastened to my bedside and Hortense shoved aside Rigel to ask, "Ma soeurette, are you alright? This First Year came running downstairs yelling that they were taking you to the Hospital Wing-"
She was cut off by Professor McGonagall coming quick on their heels, and demanding, "What happened?"
Deciding that this would probably be my last chance to take it, I downed the potion in the vial in one gulp, choked on the taste and then replied, "I-I don't know…."
"She appears to have sustained some kind of head injury, I'm assuming she fell in the bath, but Miss Longbottom here claims that two students dragged her off to the prefects' bath and dropped her in it," Madam Pomfrey explained.
"I'm not `claiming' anything," said Camilla beside her, "I saw them do it."
Professor McGonagall was shocked into silence by this so that it was a while before she could speak to ask, "Did you see the students, Miss Potter?"
I tried to remember what happened, but only drew a blank and shook my head.
She turned to Camilla, "Who are they?"
All business, Camilla ignored the fact that she was now being watched not only by the Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey, but what was left of the students at the door, Rigel, Hortense and Aisling and replied, "I don't know, I think they're prefects, they knew the password, but I don't think they're really Slytherins. They don't look like anyone I know in my House."
Instead of pointing out that it would be rather difficult for her to actually know everyone in her House, Professor McGonagall surprised us all by turning to Rigel and demanding, "Do you know anything about this, Mr Weasley? Normally I don't care for or condone student relationships, but is there anyone you might know who would do this?"
"Absolutely not!" declared Rigel, firmly. "No one I know is that… Hufflepuff."
She arched an eyebrow, but said nothing to this, (even after the accused House's members protested) and then after a moment announced, "Well in that case I want you all out of here, now! Miss Potter needs her rest. But if you don't have a train to catch go directly to the Great Hall, your Heads of Houses and teachers and I shall be along shortly. Go on now! All of you!"
There was a moment of grumblings and mumbled protest, but they all did as they were told. Even Camilla, taking up her bag, which I hadn't noticed before, stuffing back in the quills, books, rolls of paper-scribbled over with what looked like Ancient Runes homework-and comic book that were falling out and following them out the door. Well, everyone except Aisling, Hortense and Rigel, for they refused to go, wanting to stay with me. But Professor McGonagall would have none of it.
"You three go with them as well, Miss Potter needs to rest and I'm sure that there are others in here that need it too," she told them.
"But we're family," protested Rigel.
She levelled a look at him; he took a sideways glance to Hortense and Aisling for help, received none and said, "Figuratively speaking of course, but it still counts."
"Not here, not now. Maybe after she's had some rest, but for now, go!" she ordered.
Reluctantly then, they all took last lingering looks at me, Rigel mouthed that he would be back later, and left. Professor McGonagall then turned back to me and said, noticeably hesitant, "Miss Potter, I'm going to ask you something that I think you will find a bit strange."
She had my undivided attention.
"I ask you not to try to contact your parents," she said.
"What? Why not?" I demanded. "I was just attacked, ironically disproving what you and Professor Dumbledore just told me this morning by the way."
She looked even more hesitant to continue now-not to mention a little offended at my tone-but said firmly, "Your parents are involved in something very dangerous… and unfortunately that means that they're currently cut off from the rest of us. If you try to contact them, you might inadvertently put them in danger."
"I just got coshed in the bathroom!" I protested, with a more lot volume and nerve than I would have dared unhurt. But then again, what she was asking for was ridiculous. I'm sure that anyone who got seriously hurt, including her, would want their parents after. I certainly did and wasn't ashamed to admit it.
She was irritatingly calm though when next she spoke, "We don't know why this happened yet. I suspect it has something to do with your friend, or some other innocuous thing, you might disagree, but all the same…. I would not ask you this if it wasn't important."
I maintained my protest, "Camilla told me that she thought the girls were bewitched, she said one of them was acting as if she was trying to fight it!"
Still she was calm, registering no surprise at this revelation though Madam Pomfrey was forced to stifle an audible gasp, as she said, "We won't know that for sure until we've examined them. I'll talk to Miss Longbottom about that as soon as I leave here, but I want you to promise me that you won't try to contact your parents. If you want to though, you can write to Mrs Luna Weasley and Mr Remus Lupin, as I understand it they're supposed to watch over you while your parents are gone."
That was news to me-how come I was the last to know about things affecting me all of a sudden?-but they'd have to do. I took a moment, looked away from her and then replied with a resigned sigh, "Okay, I won't."
Strangely she gave no sign of relief at this, instead saying, "Don't worry, Miss Potter, we'll find out why this happened and then I assure you it will not again."
I bit back "You couldn't stop it the first time", choosing to nod quietly instead. There was then nothing but silence and the echoing sound of her heels clicking against the stone floor, and then I heard the door shut behind her as she left the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey then came back again with some fresh pyjamas she had found and another vial and said, "Put these on and take this Sleeping Draught… a little sleep will do you good."
I doubted it, and as I forced myself to drink a third potion in what was probably less than an hour, I had a moment of terror at the thought that she was only knocking me out, making it easier for my killer… and then I lay down and knew nothing more.
*****
Surprisingly, the first person I would see when I awoke was Connor. Late in the night, long after I had slept off the Sleeping Draught, I lay in bed staring out the window at the starless night sky. It was snowing outside, had started while I was asleep and I only noticed now for the light coming from a nearby room in the castle flowed out into the night and illuminated the flakes yellow-white. Then I noticed what looked like the tip of a shoe sticking out of nowhere.
Alarmed I shot upright, snatched up the first thing I could find-a bottle of Skelegro from the next table-and demanded, "Who's there!"
There was some shuffling in the corner, a shimmering and shifting and then out from beneath the liquid-silver of an Invisibility Cloak came Connor, grinning sheepishly, "Hi Maggie."
I gave a relieved sigh, and asked, "You have an Invisibility Cloak?"
"Yes, don't you?" he asked in return.
I shook my head. Both brows vanished in brown hair, and when I gave him no indication that I was joking, he shrugged and said, "Nicked it off my Mum anyway, she's so clumsy usually she just thought she'd lost it."
Now it was my turn to be surprised, since I could clearly see that he wasn't joking, and then with a smile and headshake at the wonders that were boys, I lay back and returned my attention to the window. It was all the invitation he needed to come over as close as he dared to my bed and ask, "Do you know what happened?"
"No," I replied, not looking at him but immediately looking away from the window. "Camilla Longbottom-my rescuer-said that it was two girls, supposedly Slytherins though she didn't recognise them."
"I know, I heard," he said. "They've been talking to the girls all afternoon in fact, but everyone suspects Malfoy had something to do with it."
At this I looked back to him and asked, "They still do?"
He nodded, "They think it's some jealous ex-bird, they've actually rounded up all the girls they could and some are interviewing portraits."
"Anyone's spoken to Moaning Myrtle?" I asked.
"Moaning Myrtle?" asked Connor, confused.
"Yeah, I remember that much, I went to the bathroom and she was there. She actually tried to warn me about them, but you know, too late and all that," I replied.
As I said this though, his expression became pained and he began nervously, "Maggie… are…?"
Sensing the problem, I told him, "I'm fine, I think I'm getting another headache but I'm fine."
He didn't look convinced and dropped to a seat on the bed beside me and asked, "Have you sent a message to your parents yet?"
"Funny you should ask that," I replied. "It's the strangest thing, Professor McGonagall told me not to, said something about it being dangerous, but that I could write your Dad and Aunt Luna."
"Oh?" he said, "that's strange… but I can assure you that you're in good hands until you can. My Dad won't let anything through, the Ministry sent an Auror in-I saw him as I was coming up-and I think they've set up some kind of house elf-security guard system, if I didn't have my Cloak I'd still be out in the hall."
"Your Cloak got past house-elf magic?" I asked, getting worried again.
He hastened to reassure me, "Not really, but I'm in good with a few of them, they know I'm not up to trouble. And besides, even if someone got past them they'd still have to slip by Madam Pomfrey, a hawk that woman is. Malfoy came by with Aisling and Hortense again, trying to sneak in, but even when she decided to let them stay, she wouldn't let them for long, no one else can."
"Aren't they supposed to be going home?" I asked.
"Hortense and Aisling left, I think, but Rigel stayed. As they were going out he came up and told Professor McGonagall that he'd changed his mind and that `Grandmother' understood and all that," replied Connor, sounding both annoyed and disbelieving.
"I must have really frightened him," I mumbled to myself.
"You frightened all of us; the school is nearly empty now so you can hear some of the whispers for floors. Almost everyone's talking about how some prefects tried to drown Harry Potter's daughter in the bathroom. The Slytherins' defence so far is that if they'd tried it there's a perfectly good lake outside. With the ice on top they'd never find you."
My jaw dropped, but then I said sardonically, "Glad to be the source of their entertainment,"
His mouth formed a half-smile and he said, "Hey, at least that eliminates one group of suspects."
I tried to smile back but couldn't bring myself to, and then remembering again, asked, "What about Professor Trelawney?"
He was understandably baffled, "You think the Divination teacher tried to do you in to stop people calling her a fraud?"
I laughed, "No, I don't think that. I was just wondering what she's saying now that this has happened."
"Oh, surprisingly nothing. Seems she's been asleep in her office all day," he replied, but then suddenly fighting to suppress a grin, added, "but Professor Snape has been asking after you… or at least was seen loitering around this floor anyway, looking anxious."
"What?" I asked, very rightly flabbergasted.
"Yes, and he wanted to be the first to interrogate the girls too. If Professor McGonagall hadn't pulled rank I think he would have done it, he was already talking about Veritaserum before they'd even woke them up," he replied.
I stopped and looked at him for a moment, and he burst out laughing, "Oh your face… the look on your face…."
I folded my arms and frowned; "Now I'm your source of entertainment too?"
He struggled to compose himself, to throw off the shaking laughter and smile that now seemed permanently etched onto his face, and then he said, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist. No he didn't really go that far, but he has been loitering round this corridor all afternoon."
I fell back on the bed and groaned, "He's probably waiting around to make sure I'm still alive for detention tomorrow."
Connor finally stopped laughing then, "You have detention with Professor Snape, how come?"
"Apparently Gryffindors aren't allowed in the dungeons. Whatever, he's just as barmy as Trelawney," I replied, and then, inspired, added, "Of course, you know, they'd make a perfect couple those two?"
That started Connor laughing again and so we continued until nearly morning. Connor was rather funny, like his father sometimes was, and though Rigel would not approve, I think I'd found a new friend. It was nice forget with him, albeit temporarily, that there really was a threat lurking out there in the dark snowy night, even if we couldn't see him yet.
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