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Holly Evans and the Spiral Path

Chapter 18: The Marauders Return





23rd October, 1993



Harry,

I've some time to write as I'm sitting in hospital. I'm fine; it's Hermione that's bedridden this time.

I forgot to mention it before but Hermione and I exchanged birthday gifts the day before I confronted her about the Time Turner. Hermione bought me some French swimwear. I was once again caught between my hopes and reality; Hermione discovered that Lycra is resistant to my caustic fluids, though she did select some very flattering colors and patterns for me. My gift to her was one of a matching pair of jade rings I bought from Borgin's and Burke's- they buzz or heat up when brought near poisons or magically tainted food or drink. We both have taken to wearing them on our index finger, though for comfort we usually take them off for potions labs. After a few intermittent meals where we kept moving things off our plates like chess pieces, the mass of our closer Gryffindor acquaintances have taken to waiting for us to start eating before choosing their own selections, particularly as a Quidditch match approaches. Ron has inadvertently volunteered to act as our canary in the coalmine by not giving in to paranoia- he still eats whatever is placed before him. It took an extra week for Neville to realise there was nothing wrong with the kippers; it's just that neither Hermione nor I like them with breakfast. Despite these precautions Hermione is here in hospital for being poisoned, sorta by me.

This is a Slytherin problem.

With Hermione occupied taking twice as many classes as the human brain was meant to handle, you may wonder what I'm doing with my extra time. Well, apart from a grueling slog to bring up my Maths knowledge to something useful for Arithmancy, I've been running, brewing and plotting. I run around the castle grounds at least once a day, usually at night and under the Cloak when no one will notice my feet fluttering around. I find it's useful in burning off excess energy generated from sleeping 5 inches too far from the one I love, and my endurance has seen a jump in performance ever since my marathon escape to Granger sanctuary.

We have been brewing in Myrtle's room once more, this time with several different concoctions in process. We've made several attempts at Veritaserum that have all ended toxic, and the salves and Blood Replenishing draught are making halting progress, but my Incubation Bath seems to be coming along nicely. As an aside, I think the title Moste Potente Potions may be a mistranslation for 'Potions that take bleeding forever to brew'. There isn't a quick recipe in the lot. Since I'm not sure when in the future we may acquire the ...necessary ingredients to develop my eggs, I'm in no rush to finish the Bath. That may explain why it's coming out better- brewing seems to be a reflective, patient Art, not unlike fishing. We could start another revolution at Hogwarts- the rise of fishing potion masters. Hermione has the portable water-proof flames mastered, so we just need to design a boat with a cauldron in the middle that won't sink.

I hate to just sit and wait, so the rest of my time has been about the plotting, which brings me back to the Slytherins.

Marcus Flint has returned to Hogwarts.

With the death of Penelope Clearwater, whatever threat of exposure had permitted the Headmaster to expel Flint has evaporated, and he was reinstated as a seventh year to work on his NEWTs and return to the Slytherin Quidditch squad. Lack of evidence. It's the only reason I regret pummeling Lockhart into infancy. I was just gearing up to take Percy aside and tell him of last year's unproveable crimes, but with the primary perpetrator back in the mix that has to be shelved. If I do anything to Flint and Percy is aware of the motivations, he will be torn between turning me in and helping me out. I don't need the help, at least not from him, so I've sworn Hermione to secrecy on this for now on the promise to her that I would tell him the truth before he leaves Hogwarts for a career.

In addition, the general Slytherin population has been energized of late over the lifting of my detente with Professor Snape. The Professor held me after class a few days after the Weasley Wireless Radios started easing everyone's mood to ...settle accounts I guess.

"Evans. You seem to be getting a ...reputation. The Weasleys have made minor celebrities of themselves with their money-making musical disruption, but even the youngest Slytherins can see your and Granger's hands in making them successful. What's more is that people are starting to believe your dour personality is a smokescreen, a way to protect yourself and your ...sibling from fame-seekers. Even I have noticed a softening in your demeanor. I would think you'd be more conscious of the threats that surround you following your experiences last year. It's time for you to fend for yourself in my classroom. You would do well to take more ...care during our labs."

I took a moment to think through what the Professor said before responding.

"Thank you for your concern, Professor. I have been more relaxed of late, but with the return of Marcus Flint my focus is returning."

"Worried for your Quidditch chances?"

"If our combat was restricted to the pitch I wouldn't have mentioned it, Sir."

I actually felt a touch on my Occlumency barrier just then, and I picked up the smallest hint of surprise in the Professor's non-reaction. It took a lot of effort to hold back a grin.

"Professor, please be assured that on the whole I still don't actually like people. I am merely discovering a few individuals who deserve closer inspection." Preferably without clothing. I didn't say that.

"Very well." The Professor looked at me for another minute, seeming to try and make a decision. "I noticed towards the end of Granger's first stay in hospital last year that she had clawed apart an Advanced Potion Making Guide. Rather than see her upset over the loss of a pristine volume, I saw that you gave her your copy. It's an essential work for any future potions mistress. Take a school copy if you can't afford to supply your library appropriately." He dropped a beaten-up version of the Guide onto my desk."Our time is done. We'll see if two years amnesty has made you soft or opened your eyes. Leave."

I grabbed the book with a nod and exited quickly. The book was exactly what Professor Snape said it was and more. Every page was filled with scribbled notes on preparation techniques, alternate instructions and occasionally entire spells with Arithmantic equation work showing the process of discovery.

I sat with Hermione later (which was actually earlier) to show it to her and lay out what I thought was being said.

"This is amazing! And he just handed it to you?"

"Not exactly. He's ended the detente and is formally letting me know the Slytherins are gunning for us, more for revenge over Draco's embarrassment with Buckbeak but also because Gryffindor is becoming well-regarded again. Our House's reputation has been in the toilet for a few decades, but now with the radio station we are acting like leaders instead of hooligans. The book is payment for the Basilisk share."

"I hardly think that's fair! One book in exchange for an incredible opportunity to work with an extremely rare creature's parts and a payoff that could afford him his own shop in Hogsmeade! I was so jealous when I found out I had missed that chance."

"Well, I missed it too, but I think Fate was listening to my heart- having you alive is much more valuable to me. Besides, this book...it's his own secret work! He values our skills well enough to share his best techniques with us!"

"Your skills, maybe. I can't satisfy that man."

I cocked an eyebrow at her inadvertent double-meaning. "Nor should you be trying to. Hermione, you're missing the point. He knows I trust you and that you'll get access to this too. Looking to get his approval is a sure path to frustration and disappointment."

"You seem to have gained his respect."

"Maybe, but only because I hear the meaning beneath what's said. What did he say about your last assignment?"

"Uh, ummm, 'Granger! Your excessive stirring is diminishing the potency! Don't let your insipid enthusiasm taint your work! 10 points from Gryffindor!' and then, the Oily Bat sneer."

"And what did he tell you? Not 'what did you feel', but what was he communicating?"

"I was stirring too fast, which actually affects potency. I suppose that was useful..."

"That part's right, but he also said 'your work is excellent but will be tainted if you're not careful' and 'calm the hell down and I won't verbally abuse you'!"

"And the ten points?"

"Cover for helping a Gryffindor. Really Hermione, why do points matter?"

"So you think he actually thinks I'm good?"

"Hermione, I'm concerned that once you graduate he'll offer you an apprenticeship just to see how long it will take to seduce you into marrying him."

I really wish she wouldn't get thoughtful when I say things like that.



The end of Snape's detente was announced during the following potions class wherein I was criticized for my hair color, my height, my Goggles and my new glasses(Hermione insisted I have eyewear for more formal occasions than labs and combat), the shape of my cauldron, my clothes, the possibility of my father having been Filch and the supposed humiliation of having my brother who won't speak to me come to my rescue ...and still not give a rat's ass enough to check up on me in hospital!

Actually, that last bit after the rescue was from me to you. Wanker. Send a card next time. I show up every day for Hermione and I still bring her flowers.

Since then the Slytherins have taken every opportunity to speak ill of my lineage, appearance and associations. After the first few days, it occurred to me that unless they get a response they'll probably escalate their attacks, so now I periodically stage a crying fit and run out of class. I was right back in second year- it is better for the abusers when you whimper.

My dance with Flint commenced at the first Quidditch match of the season on the 10th October. This early game was almost rescheduled as a Gryffindor-Hufflepuff contest due to Draco's slow recovery from his 'horrible' Hippogriff wound. Oliver was indifferent as he just wanted to get into playing, but I wanted to force the Flint confrontation in a public arena. Hermione and I asked Oliver why Gryffindor had to forfeit when I was hospitalised last year, which prompted him to drag us over to the Staff table. Hermione piped in that professional league play required a forfeit if the team couldn't field all positions, but that alternates were a common recourse. Professor Snape argued that we couldn't go back to change last year's standings and McGonagall had agreed to his request for a reschedule. I put forth that Draco had an alternate, as Terrance Higgs was the Slytherin seeker two years ago and was only replaced when Draco bought his way onto the team. That started a taunting match between both squads who had gathered around the table to follow the discussion, and we were back on the schedule. I got an interesting look of appreciation from Higgs as we were all being carted back to the dorms or to hospital following the breakdown of civility. He nodded my way like a fairly challenged knight acknowledges their opponent. Later in the Gryffindor common room, Ron complimented Hermione on her knowledge of Quidditch regulations. She blushed and then said it was 'just something that had caught her interest'. She then mentioned that our team should select alternates for key positions in case this becomes an issue later. Ron almost plowed through us trying to get to Oliver with the idea. I wonder if Oliver will mistake his enthusiasm for personal interest? I've noticed Wood, Draco, Colin and a few others giving Ron a strangely lingering stare. I'd warn Ron, but if he can't take the hint about our taint-detecting rings then his clue-meter is no doubt well out of calibration.



Flint spent most of the match trying to find ways to crash into me, force the Bludgers at me or otherwise plow me into the ground. I spent most of my time evading his attempts while giving Gryffindor plenty of opportunity to run up the score with penalty shots and disrupted defenses against our chasers. Higgs caught the snitch in the third hour, but it wasn't enough to defeat us with our 200 point lead and I escaped relatively undamaged. The Gryffindor chasers chastised me as lame for not catching the snitch. Even Hermione approached me as I emerged from the locker room after the game to ask if I was alright.

"Not really. I was cramping something awful." I then discreetly handed her a pair of my Lycra bike shorts wrapped around the three eggs I had tried desperately to not crush for the last half-hour of the match while riding at top speeds and making sudden turns. Hermione goggled and quickly shoved the moist package into her bookbag and then gave me a hug. I cried for a second then decided to make the best of it.

"Realise you've got my undies, Hermione. You can stop looking at my bum." This prompted her to reflexively look back over my shoulder to glance at my seamless Quidditch leggings, and then blush as she realised I had played her.

"Wench!"

"Bum-looker!"

"Holly!"

"Cheeky Monkey!"

"Well, obviously you're fully recovered."

I winced in pain as the cramping returned.

"Serves you right!"

"Hermione, do you have some special ability to control my cramps when I make fun of you?"

"Yes! You should be more respectful of me in the future."

We walked back to the dorm together with her arm across my shoulders, which really helped me when the pain hit hard.



I should have anticipated the escalation. I may act upset at the time but I don't generate any fear when they start taunting again. This is how I ended up poisoning Hermione.

We were in a double-potions lab, brewing a potion used as component in several other concoctions used for fighting crop blight and in veterinary cures. Our battles in the lab have become their own chess matches, as we keep track not only of our brewing but the actions of those around us and anything that may be prepared ahead of time. It's an engaging exercise, but if anything I've become convinced that defense is a losing strategy. No matter your preparations, the assaulting force will come up with another avenue you hadn't considered or can't protect. In this case, I wasn't looking up and I hadn't checked our cauldron area for charms or runes. What took place should have resulted in Hermione's death. At a critical juncture in the brewing process, an ashwinder egg dropped into our pot from where it had been levitated near the ceiling. During the few seconds as the egg's nature changed our brew into a roiling putrid green mass, a charm was triggered causing the front foot of the cauldron to melt, tipping the fluid forward to splash all over Hermione's face and chest, except now the fluid was mustard yellow and smelled like food. Hermione's skin was tinted the same color, making me think their tampering had been limited to a prank. I saw it all happen and couldn't do a thing, but I could see Pansy Parkinson hiding her wand that had been levitating the egg into place. What's more, I saw that she was very disappointed with the results. I immediately charged across the aisle and punched her in the face- I actually was aiming for her jaw but she seemed to lean into it. Before I could continue my assault I was grabbed from behind by Neville, Seamus and Ron. I chose to continue with a verbal response as I struggled to break free of my housemates.

"Is this what you wanted Pansy? Does my pummeling you make you hot? I know Draco has no desire to give you satisfaction as he's being serviced by his buttboys at night! It must make you feel worthless to know how little you mean to him that he would throw you into my path! No wonder you want me to hurt you! It's the only strong feeling anyone has for you aside from pity!"

"Miss Evans! Miss Granger has been poisoned! Take her immediately to Madame Pomfrey!"

"What?"

It was then things became silent enough for me to hear Hermione's rasping breath as she lay on the floor clutching at her throat. I broke free from the boys and Neville and I rushed to pick Hermione up and carry her out of the classroom. Seamus followed up bearing a slip of paper for Madame Pomfrey written by Snape explaining what had affected her.

After delivering Hermione here, the boys returned to class while I helped Poppy grab ingredients. Snape's note explained the formula and described the damaging effect it would have on the lungs. Once Hermione was stabilised I was given a dressing down by Prof McG for my physically aggressive response. My defense is what prompted me to action once more.

"You should have seen it, Professor! Pansy was upset that the potion didn't work right. In fact, what they did should have made it a fast-working acid! The only reason Hermione isn't dead or disfigured now is that somehow it was also tainted with curry powder....OH MY GOD! I have to go!"

I ran back to Hermione and grabbed the Time Turner from around her neck then bolted from the hospital wing ignoring Prof McG's protests. Once in an isolated room I worked out my game plan.

"Dobby!"

The elf appeared with a pop and squeak of acknowledgement.

"You can talk here, Dobby. I need ... umm... nine ounces of curry powder as fast as you can!"

The elf disappeared with a salute, reappearing several minutes later as I paced the dusty classroom. He has a huge black eye but a proud look as he handed me asmall sweets bag filled with the necessary spice.

"Thanks, Dobby. You are, literally, a life-saver! Put this salve on your eye. We'll talk later."

I handed Dobby a vial of bruise-reducing lotion I keep in my quiver, swept the Cloak over me and turned the Turner back as far as it would turn, in this case being an hour as we were clearing a second run through right before Potions started.

I can't change what happens, but I think I need to make sure that it does happen. If I don't add the curry to our cauldron right after the egg is added, the mixture remains an acid and Hermione's face and chest will look like the remains of Christmas feast. I kept smelling the curry during the lesson but couldn't figure why, as it only would be a factor if the reagent was modified. The whole line of thought started because I smelled the spice and looked up how it would be used for this, since neither of us had grabbed any.

I was able to take a second look at the event from my hidden and silenced view once I had snuck back into the classroom. First I blew a small measure of curry at my previous Turn's face, then carefully moved back to observe the scene. I could see Pansy applying the charm to our cauldron while we were getting ingredients. I took a moment after she settled in her chair to stand in front of Pansy and stare into her eyes. If I could sift her thoughts, I might know who else was involved and what they expected. What surprised me was that Pansy actually had an Occlumency barrier. It wasn't strong, but just finding it spoke volumes, and I backed off so she wouldn't suspect my attempt at intrusion. When she started to look around with concern, a hit her with a little sneeze jinx-hearing it this time reminded me of hearing the first time through. As she set up to drop her egg into our cauldron, I moved into a position to drop the curry in right after. Plop; Fizz; Ploop; sudden smell of Indian food. Knowing what came next I moved around to stand behind Pansy. As I saw my other self rising to 'greet' her physically, I gave Pansy's shoulder a shove from behind. I enjoyed hearing the crack again as my double struck her head.

Later as I caught up with myself about to Turn back on this mission, I saw that Pansy was also being brought to hospital, for a shattered eyesocket. She was moved to a bed at the far side of the room and placed behind a privacy curtain I happen to know has several proximity wards on it. Poppy knows me too well.

Hermione's scorched lungs were the best result I can imagine, barring her simply being teleported away from the gushing mixture. She will recover completely in four days. Hermione woke up earlier long enough for me to give her a recounting of events and the best hug I could muster. She hoarsely made me promise not to try anything against Pansy, or else we risk inducing further escalation.

I've been reviewing my memories of Potions classes over these past years with some clarity of distance. I believe that Snape uses these taunts and abuses to teach his Slytherins how power can be exerted through authority. His classes are a combination of Potions and political theory with a domination elective. Pairing the Slytherins with Gryffindors makes for a fertile testing ground as we Lions tend to be bold and reactive. Snape gets exaggerated results suitable for instruction. My problem now is that the next natural step in this lesson is for the ruling authority (Snape) and its protected agents (the Slytherins) to attack the thorny problem (me) by undermining any safety nets and alliances that provide strength. Of course they targeted Hermione, sacrificing a loud but minor piece (Pansy). Now they need to widen my isolation and damage me in ways I don't defend against well. They'll try to drive a wedge between me and the Weasleys or Quidditch is going to get uglier somehow, and our experiments in Myrtle's lab are probably at risk. I should also warn the twins to protect WWRX from attacks. For sure, Hermione and I need to watch our backs. For once my spiny-ness is serving me well- I have only a few valuable resources to defend. Then we'll see about offense.



Holly



*





1st November, 1993



Harry,

In my renewed focus on anti-snake combat strategy, I lost track of a greater issue- the unknown agenda of escaped murderer Sirius Black. I say unknown because Hermione and I have recently uncovered some interesting facts with the help of the Weasley twins that make me think Mr. Black's assault on the Gryffindor dorm entry last night was not the actions of a Riddle minion. As we are all stuck camping out in the Great Hall by Headmaster decree, Hermione and I won't be able to escape to the library for research. We had just finished sleeping until 5 AM before we Turned back to start our second nighttime run through, so neither of us is particularly tired. The last few hours have been interesting, but first I need to explain a little about Professor Remus John Lupin.

He and I don't get along.

Initial DADA classes did go well as he's calm and collected and always has an intelligent answer to a decent question, but I ended up in an argument with him over Dementors, a topic of much interest nowadays. Professor Lupin said that they feed off positive emotions, stealing away every happy thought you have.

"That's not what happened!"

"Miss ...umm ...Evans? You have an opinion?"

I stood up as we had been taught to do when making an extended point. "You were there on the train! It didn't take away my happy thoughts..."

Blaise Zabini piped in "Do you even HAVE happy thoughts?"

"Kinda my point, actually."
"Nevertheless, Miss Evans, both the text and common knowledge indicate that Dementors induce an effect that makes a person feel like they'll never be happy again. The happy thoughts are gone."

"That makes no sense."

"As magical creatures, you will find that they operate under a different set of rules than normal beings."

"No, I mean your position isn't supported by my experience."

"Sit down, Miss Evans."

"Professor Lupin?"

"Yes Miss Granger?"

Hermione stood as I sat down. "I think what Holly is trying to say is that Dementors wouldn't want to take happy thoughts."

"Really?Explain. Perhaps we can learn a bit more by the discussion."

"Well, they're like mosquitoes, really."

The class laughed a bit, but Hermione soldiered on.

"A mosquito won't bite you in the nose, because there's almost no blood there. They can see the heat coming from your arteries where the blood they want is flowing, so they naturally are drawn there. That's what they want, and they're built to go get it. Dementors are parasites, like the mosquito. They don't bring up your happy thoughts for them to eat; instead they prompt all your worst memories to come to the fore. They feed off the negative emotions, so that is what they have developed the ability to find. It explains..."

"It explains why they went straight for me."

Hermione saw my haunted expression and gave my shoulder a squeeze before continuing.

"Yes, and it also explains why the only weapon against them is the Patronus Charm. The Patronus is the embodiment of a happy thought brought to life. If a Dementor fed on happy thoughts, the Patronus would draw them in like moths to flame or mosquitoes to blood, but the Dementor fled from your Patronus."

Professor Lupin is a very calm person, so his next statement could be seen as a loud cheer.

"Huh. Excellent reasoning and a good understanding of the material. 10 points, Miss Granger."

So maybe Lupin follows the papers and thinks I'm trouble. Hermione good, Holly bad. I can handle that.

Then we got into it over the Boggart.

Having me confront a Boggart looked to be a Bad idea. They take your worst nightmare and bring it to life in order to feed off the fear. Dementors are bad enough, but at least my worst memories are only forced upon me in my head. Boggarts throw that dirty laundry out for everyone to see.

Hermione was faced with an exaggeratedly cruel version of Prof McG telling her how stupid she is and that she failed all her classes. Neville gets haunted by the spectre of Snape. Parvati Patil was stunned into near petrifaction by a giant lumbering mummy, and poor Ronald was faced with an Acromantula. The sad thing for Ron is I've met Aragog, who exceeds Ron's nightmare spider in size by a factor of five. I chose not to inform him his true nightmare lives within 8miles of his bedroom.

"You're next, Miss Evans."

"Not bloody likely."

"I assure you, the Boggart cannot harm you. We've seen it defeated by some of your classmates. Step up my dear."

Oh, he shouldn't have said that.

"Let me make myself clear. NOT BLOODY LIKELY!"

"Holly!"

I drew Hermione into a huddle. "Hermione, I can't do this here. Not here. Not ...with everyone."

Lupin spoke up to interrupt my conference. "Miss Evans, you will serve detention with me for the next week to remind you to keep a civil tongue. Leave the room."

He gave me the detentions for defying him, but it's basically acquiescing to my plea. 10 points from Gryffindor, though.

When I got there that evening, the Boggart was back in its box and he was standing there looking all smug. "It won't be so bad, Miss Evans. You should see about doing it next class if I'm right."

"I'll make you a bet- if the Boggart lives, I'll do it."

What comes out of the cabinet causes me to lose my cool and Lupin to cower urinating in the corner. My Boggart was a giant Naga-Basilisk version of myself, with Hermione's bloody body hanging from its venomous mouth, dragging along the bodies of Neville, Snape, Hagrid and Prof McG where a finger of my talons is impaled in each of their still living skulls. It bows before me saying 'my master Voldemort will enjoy these minds I have consumed for him.'

Except it wasn't.

That's what I thought I would see. I guess Prof McG included a 'no lying' clause in her Compulsion, as I feel the need to correct that last bit. Someday I'll figure a way to unravel that.

The truth, then.

It's Hermione. She steps out of the cabinet, stands there looking at me for a minute with this look of disdain. Then she speaks.

"You disgust me. You are a perverted freak. I can't believe I let a creature like you touch me. I can't believe you think you know anything about love or trust or friendship. I've just been using you to feed my interests, and to get closer to him."

That's when you step out next to her, holding her hand, only it isn't exactly you (I hope). It's a mixture of what I saw in the Mirror of Erised swelled fat and large like Dudley, dressed like Draco in pureblood finery with your hair slicked back. No, not yours; his. We'll call him Horror Harry. Horror Harry then smiles arrogantly. He pulls out a black wand and says 'Imperio' while pointing at Hermione. Hermione kneels before Horror Harry, unzipping his trousers and fellating him while he explains how he's also going to be taking her memories for his own, and when he's done with her he'll do it to me. I can see the silvery strands of memory being pulled from Hermione's head as if he were pulling out her hair. She starts to gag and choke. He's decided that I don't deserve education or freedom, and as the legitimate child his wishes are always carried out. Dark, hooded Auror-Obliviators appear from behind him, resembling the Dementors but laughing. They move at me fast and I find myself falling to kneeling with super-sized chains around my wrists, ankles and neck. I can hear the masses in the distance yelling "Thank God and Merlin for Harry Potter!" Harry grunts and pushes Hermione's face from his crotch and she falls limply to the ground in front of me. I see she's died choking on his phallus, semen spilling out of her slackened mouth onto the floor, her hair mostly gone. Horror Harry starts to suck the memories into his mouth like noodles. Harry oozes out his enjoyment of consuming Hermione's thoughts with a slimy "Sooooooo Nnniiiiiice!"

Remember 'Nice equals Dumb'.

My mind initiated a diagnostic, you might say. I receded into my head.

Deep in my mind, I could see the tendril of the Boggart's attack like an elephant's trunk sucking pulses of colored emotion out of my head, but it had lost the feed and was feeling about looking for more. I moved its vacuum tube end to point at a memory of Dudders in his yellow-pinstripe Smelting's uniform. When I opened my eyes, Dudders was there looking confused, saying I should bow before him. I get it now. I said 'Riddikulus' and the Boggart was slammed back into the waiting warded box.

Before I could pull my wand up and let out my best Reducto, Lupin stood in front of me.

"Well I don't know which part was most disturbing for me. You handled it well, all things being equal. Do you still want to abide by our agreement? The Boggart yet lives..."

"Yeah it does, but there's no way I'll let one into my mind again."

"You may be right. It's a weak attack- all surprise but no real power. The only way it would prove significant in class would be if I were to spring one on you, and you'll be watching for that from now on anyway."

"Yes, I will." Lupin seemed to be reveling in his successful instruction. My simmering rage was beginning to break through my Occlumency-based calm.

"We could provide a show then. Have you cower in fear before a giant rabbit."

"Only if I can use the Holly Hand Grenade on it."

"Wouldn't that be Holy...ah yes. Good humor. I'm ...glad to see you recovering so well." Lupin turned away from me to carefully walk over to the warded cabinet and closed the physical locks.

My mask fell as my shields weren't needed with the Boggart sealed away. It was time to wake up the Professor.

"Fucking Bollocks! This was all some fucked up therapy session?! Stay away from me you bastard! If any of this reaches anyone else in the whole of Scotland I will see you screaming in pain!" As I rushed to leave I grabbed a desk chair and flung it at him from across the room. He diverted it with a flick of his wand but said nothing, just looked at me startled, like he was surprised I was upset at him, of all people.

Four more detentions of this and someone was going to die. He at least had the good sense to cancel the rest of them. He's not dumb.



Which brings us to last night. In memoriam, or some such, I decided that Halloween would make an excellent opportunity for me to make an example of Marcus Flint, and to remind him that he does not safely walk these halls. As I said, Hermione and I had already Turned back to 11 PM after sleeping once through the night. We had split off as I had my trap to lay and she had something else to research in the library's Restricted section. I was heading back towards Gryffindor tower after finishing my work when I was waylaid by my favorite pair of carrots. Despite my Cloak, they grabbed me from behind with a tandem-whispered Accio Evans. Once they had hold of me they moved us all back into a passageway behind a suit of armour.

"Keep silent, Evans"

"You're being stalked..."

"...by a greasy scholar"

I pulled off the Cloak quietly, watching George look out a peephole as Fred kept a loose grip on my arms. After a minute, they settled back down and George pulled out a piece of parchment.

"Snape's heading down towards Slytherin."
"Good. Now what has you prowling..."

"...on this night of fun and frolic?"

I won't recount the exact details of the whole conversation. I miss the Quill. Anyway, the twins and I chatted about pranks and Flint and Snape until Fred mentioned something interesting. I'll write it Quill-style for clarity.

Fred: Y'know, I'm surprised Snape's patrolling tonight, as this should be Lupin's watch.

Holly: You have the patrols charted?

Fred: Of course! We just can't figure...

George: ...why Snape would do Lupin any favors.

Together: They hate each other!

Hermione's voice echoed from nowhere.

Hermione: It's because Lupin's a Werewolf!

Hermione made the most gratifying entrance at that point- she melted into view! The twins were so thrown they both ducked for cover, much to our amusement.

Fred: Merlin, Granger! How'd you learn the Disillusionment Charm? That's NEWT level minimum and the one that knocks most folk down from EE to Average!

Hermione: Necessity, Fred. Holly and I have a need to move unseen and she has an Invisibility Cloak.

God, I love her brain.

Fred: Oi! How do you know I'm Fred?

I answered that one.

Holly: Fred always speaks first.

Fred: I do not!

George: You didn't used to.

Fred: But you're right, I do.

At that point we all hushed up as a distant cry was heard from down the corridors.

Holly: Hmm, I didn't think Flint would be out now. My trap has sprung.

George took another surreptitious look at the parchment.

George: Yeah, but you caught Professor Garvin.

Holly: What? I set that to only trigger for Marcus!

George: That's his name; Marcus Garvin. Professor for the Politics and Law class.
Hermione: Oh, Holly! You should let him down! Thank goodness the trap was non-lethal!

George: It was?

Holly: At her insistence, yeah George.

Fred: Don't be too hasty to save Garvin. The reason you can't take his class is he only allows purebloods in good standing and sponsored half-bloods to sign up.

Hermione: What makes you think I'd take his class?

Holly: Hermione...

Hermione: Alright. Leave him then.

Holly: Don't feel too bad, Hermione. We'll just get Neville to sign up and then put on a Compulsion for him to take really exhaustive notes!

Fred: You can cast a Compulsion like that?

Hermione: Of course! Why else do you think that 'Fred always talks first'?

George: But how would you know which of us was Fred to begin with?

Holly: We didn't have to. We hit you both with the same Compulsion. We assumed at least you would know which of you was Fred.

Fred and George looked at each other, and then dropped to their knees in front of us.

F&G: We bow to the rightful heirs to the Marauders! We have been pranked!

Hermione: Who are the Marauders?

Fred: We'll tell you...

George: ...but only if you take off the Compulsions.



Short version for the rest; the Marauders were four students that created a map of Hogwarts and enchanted it somehow to show the presence of all the people within. It unfolds in various ways and places to reveal the different towers and such, and it shows the secret passages that provide shortcuts within the castle and out away leading to Hogsmeade and other surrounding exits of use. They identified themselves by the nicknames Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Their map is extensive but incomplete, as I note the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is not shown in Myrtle's lav. What makes this even more interesting is that Hermione overheard Snape refer to Professor Lupin as Moony while handing him a special-made potion yesterday. That prompted further conjecture given Hermione's previous revelation that Lupin is a Werewolf. Perhaps fortunately, I had to reveal my ignorance at that point.

"Well, OK. So ...is that bad?"

The twins gave me the deeper meaning- as a magical creature he has slightly less rights than Hermione has as an under-aged muggleborn. Also they suffer murderous rages during nights of the full moon; Hermione confirmed that Snape's potion for Lupin was a wolvesbane draught which allows the Lycanthrope to retain some measure of control.

In the meantime, Sirius Black had broken into the castle to shred the Gryffindor entry. Our late night bull session came to an end as the Weasley Wireless radios and certain statues all started to intone an announcement for all students to head for the Great Hall for their safety. We all looked at the Map to see the name Sirius Black entering a passage that lead to the Forbidden Forest. The name shifted to say Padfoot as it sped very quickly down the passage and away from the castle. All four of us looked up in surprise.

"Wicked!"

So Sirius Black and Professor Lupin were friends back in the day and compiled the Map with the help of two others named Prongs and Wormtail. Something about this seems so familiar that I'm now having a hard time reconciling the idea that a Marauder would sign up with Riddle. Death-Eater just seems to scream anti-humor, and these guys knew how to have fun, if the twins' tales have any shred of truth.

The twins surrendered the Marauder's Map in exchange for taking off the Compulsions and a promise to lend it back if they had a demonstrated need. I added that we may want them to keep an eye on us as they have interceded on my behalf at least twice before using the Map, and I owed them for that. George suggested that they would consider it settled if Hermione taught them the Disillusionment Charm. This led to a standing get-together for all four of us to meet on Sundays to trade spells and chase Peeves away from the Polka collection. The Marauders return, I guess.

Since we tracked Fred through the conversation, Hermione tagged him with a different Compulsion while they were bouncing around ideas for who the rest of the original Marauders might be- he will unconsciously stare and scratch his neck whenever he meets with a girl whose name starts with 'H'. Hannah Abbott should be pleased.

After a quick check of the Map to note the corridor was clear, we headed off to the Great Hall looking like tired and compliant students. I whispered a suggestion that maybe we should free Professor Garvin anyway, but Hermione argued that he deserves it for disallowing students in his class based on prejudice, and it would still have the terror-inducing effect on Flint I was looking for. It warms the cockles of my heart when Hermione gets all Old Testament.



Holly



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