Three's a Charm

She taps the library table with her index finger before she starts speaking, “No, I absolutely understand where you're coming from regarding adding to student workload Daphne, but I'm telling you, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.”

She runs her fingers through her bangs, “So you say. I just don't get why you'd want muggle subjects taught alongside magic. Where's the benefit?”

Hermione leans forward from the final point of their little triangle, “You know how quickly I've been picking up on spells? And how after I spoke to some muggleborns and half-bloods with a muggle education, they started picking up the spells faster too?”

Daphne nods, “Well, yeah, but what's that got to do with muggle lessons?”

She nods at Hermione as she takes over, “It's because of those muggle lessons that we're faster at learning them.”

Daphne's brows furrow, “How could muggle lessons help you with magic though?”

She sighs, “It's…” She thinks, then moves her chair a little to be facing her more fully before she digs into her bag for her science book, and starts flipping to what she's looking for, “Okay, you're still struggling with the matchstick to needle transfiguration, right?”

Daphne nods, so she sets the book on the table, open to a drawing for atoms, with different colored dots for each of the subatomic parts, turning it towards her as she taps it, “This is an atom. Basically everything in the universe is made of them. Actually, supposedly absolutely everything is made of them, though I'm not quite sure with magic. Anyway,” She taps the periodic table off to the side, “These are all the known elements, you'll notice things like iron, silver, gold, all that kind of stuff. These themselves are made up of these smaller parts, in the center here is the proton depicted in red to differentiate them from the neutron in orange, and circling them are electrons colored blue.”

“Everything you don't see on here isn't an element, but a compound made from multiple of these put together. Water for instance, is made by two hydrogen atoms and an oxygen atom bonding together. They do this because as you'll see in these drawings of the atoms,” She taps on the ones showing the various ones showing each level being full, “they can only have so many electrons in each of these shells, the rings that is, and they naturally want to balance, to be perfect. So elements like to bond to each other by sharing electrons to be a bit more perfect. Following so far?”

Daphne nods, “Yeah, pretty simple so far.”

She nods, “Okay. Now oxygen, being element eight, has one perfect shell,” She taps the first drawing, “And is two short of a second ring. Whereas hydrogen, being the first element, only has one in the first shell, which can hold two, so they want to kind of… borrow the extra electrons from oxygen, but they can't pull it away from it, so they just attach themselves and use the extra electrons to complete their ring.”

Daphne nods, “Okay.”

She digs around to pull out a match from her bag and holds it up, “Good, now going back to iron, which is the twenty sixth base element with three perfect shells and a ring with two extra, then knowing all of that, even though it's the bare basics, I want you to picture an iron atom as you try the matchstick to needle transfiguration again.”

Daphne gives her an odd look, then shrugs and pulls out her wand. She glances down at the drawing again then closes her eyes briefly, likely picturing it. A moment later, she opens them and casts. The matchstick starts shifting color and shape, and though it takes a moment, it finally becomes a needle.

Daphne's mouth drops open, “Oh. Wow, that was… actually way easier…” She gets a thoughtful look, “I can see what you're talking about when it comes to how muggle lessons could help…”

She nods, “Actually, I haven't found any research on it yet, but I have a personal theory that transfiguration really just uses magic to alter the atoms. If it's a compound like wood the magic forces the compound to separate and holds it in its new configuration and makes any subatomic parts, that's the protons, neutrons, and electrons, out of raw magic that's missing, which is why transfigurations like iron to gold don't last as long as other transfigurations.”

“Because it's entirely just adding those magic subatomic parts, and that magic is going to run out and disappear eventually, which would cause it to revert to iron obviously. That doesn't explain why things like copper to iron eventually reverts, since technically there's less subatomic parts there, so while my initial thought was that the magic just essentially breaks the extra parts off safely, it wouldn't revert if that was the case. So the only thing that makes sense is the magic from the transfiguration essentially… blankets the extra parts.”

Hermione leans forward in interest, “That's a fascinating idea. Does- No, that doesn't make sense, does it?” She gives Hermione a questioning look, and the girl smiles, “My own first thought would be that it means that transfigurations that use compounds, like this needle to matchstick would basically just be rearranging the subatomic particles. But given that I read that wood is made of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, and those all have less subatomic particles than atoms, by that logic it would basically fuse atoms into one atom of iron, but that wouldn't revert, now would it?”

She shakes her head, “No, it wouldn't. It was a good thought though. Really, it's such a strange-”

A small cough off to the side draws her attention to two Hufflepuff girls standing next to their table. One is Susan Bones, who she's met before given the alliance between their families, and the other she recognizes as the first person who got sorted when they got here, Hannah if she remembers her name correctly.

Susan smiles a bit sheepishly at them, “Sorry, we didn't mean to eavesdrop, though in fairness it didn't quite seem like it was meant to be a private conversation, but Hannah and I were just around the corner in the shelves and overheard.”

She shakes her head, “Anyway, I just wanted to say that while I agree with Heiress Greengrass and I see your point, is the time it takes to teach everything that would be helpful in speeding up the process of learning the relevant magic really worth it? Because while yes, that atomic stuff you explained briefly to Heiress Greengrass helped her and is likely useful in general with transfiguration, you yourself said it was the bare basics."

"Which would mean there's more that would have to be covered, especially to help with more advanced transfigurations. But if we simplify it, if it takes me an hour learning a particular transfiguration, but that can be cut down to half an hour but it takes half an hour to learn the muggle lesson that shortens the time to learn the spell, then I'm still spending an hour, but now I've got a whole other branch of class work to worry about.”

Hermione leans on the table, “Yes, but things like this are general knowledge that can be applied to a lot of things, the atomic theory basics applies to all transfiguration after all. So even in your simplified example, it may work out to an hour anyway with that first spell, but later you already know it, so you wouldn't have to add the half hour additional learning time later.”

Susan and Hannah almost absently settle at their table as they start to debate with Hermione and Daphne. As it goes on, she idly contemplates whether they should open up a debate club.

She laughs brightly, holding her hands up in surrender at Ron's scowl, “Sorry, sorry! Just… We've been at this a while, and I know we added dancing lessons to the etiquette lessons as a just in case, but… you've really got two left feet, haven't you?”

Ron sighs morosely, “Yeah, I do. Really, what's the point in this? I'm not getting any better and I'll never really need it, now will I?”

She raises an eyebrow, “You are getting better, being naturally bad at it just means improvement takes longer. And if nothing else, you'll want to know how to dance so you don't make a fool of yourself later when you get married and the first dance with your spouse is supposed to happen, won't you?” Ron freezes as a look of realization washes over his face, “And beyond that, if you're ever at an event, what about if you want to dance with someone? Either just because they're pretty or even that they're your significant other.”

Ron shuffles a little as his brow furrows, “That's not even touching on the fact that if you do find yourself at such an event and someone asks you to dance, then while yes, we've been covering how to decline if that's your choice without insulting them, some people will take it as an insult anyway, and if they're noble or even just wealthy or something and take particular offense, they could very well make your life hell if they're so inclined.”

Now it's Ron that holds his hands up in surrender, “Alright, Alright! I get it!” He drops one hand as the other comes up to rub at his neck, “I… definitely should learn it.”

She smiles at her friend, “Yes you should.” She pauses as an idea occurs to her, before tossing it out, “You know, from all those chess matches I've seen you play or played against you myself, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you're kind of a strategic genius.”

Ron looks up at her in surprise, but she just pushes on, “So, rather than get all upset, think of it like this. Learning to dance is like learning a new chess strategy. One that's very particular in the circumstance that it's useful in, but if executed correctly, will almost always at minimum prevent losses on your part, but at best can bring you substantial gains. So don't get all upset, because it's very good to have the know-how tucked away just in case. Heck, given that the basic box step is to the side, then forward, pause, to the side then back, I suppose you could think of it as moving a knight piece twice.”

He pauses, getting a thoughtful expression and she gives him a few moments to think it over before clapping sharply, “Now, if Hermione is ready for another go?” Her friend nods, so she smiles at them, “Then let's take it from the top.”

She reaches over and restarts the music, guiding them through the beats at first, but slowly trailing off after a few moments. She's utterly amused, but not surprised, that putting it into chess terms had helped Ron improve… quite a lot actually.

As Ron starts to get comfortable, she decides to interrupt his concentration, since it really isn't something he should be concentrating on so hard as he does, and he also isn't always going to have the luxury of no distractions. She's merciful enough to go for Hermione though, so that it's just the background noise interrupting him, “So, what'd you think of the debate yesterday Hermione?”

Her friend glances over, “I really don't get what Macmillan's argument against the modified healing practices that have been coming out since disclosure happened and it became easier to do research on what muggle medical practices can bring to the table was supposed to be supported by, other than just pureblood stubbornness against change.”

She nods, “Yes, he didn't seem to have much substance in his argument did he? I think he realized it too, given the look on his face by the end. That's actually part of the reason this debate club can actually be incredibly useful though. While some of them may feel vindicated just by sheer virtue of getting the chance to argue their point and have us listen, since you kinda have to for a debate, it's also very likely to help us make them see things our way. Which, given that the laws are set by the Wizengamot which is almost entirely comprised of purebloods barring a handful of elected positions… Getting purebloods to understand our arguments is more important than you realize.”

Ron huffs faintly, “Yeah, I get that, but there are so many like Malfoy that there's not a whole lot you can do, now is there?”

She raises an eyebrow, “Would be able to do more if we had more votes on our side.” She gives him a pointed look as he glances over, “Like the Weasley seat that has sat vacant since the 1800s, or the Prewitt seat which has been in Dumbledore's hands as proxy since your uncles died and your mom handed it over to him, since he's not perfect, and those of us working against people like Malfoy don't agree with some of the things he's used it for. It closes doors that we could otherwise work together with that just don't trust the hype around him or are not necessarily anti-muggleborn or pureblood supremacist, but are traditionalists and do not appreciate some of the things he does.”

Ron gets a thoughtful look. With luck, maybe she'll be able to get him to see things her way. And while it would take some work as far as regaining their House's honor for the Weasley side, maybe she could swing that and the Prewitt seats to her side.

Or, that was the benefits from a political angle anyway. She'd also just like him to see her side as a friend. Both because it would hurt if he picked Dumbledore over her, and because she didn't want a friend under his manipulative thumb.

She all but marches up to Penelope, not even really giving her time to do more than look up before she asks, “When he was opening his little ‘Welcome to Ravenclaw’ speech, Professor Flitwick said it was kind of a mini House meeting.” The older girl nods, looking somewhat confused, “That implies bigger House meetings. When is the next one?”

Penelope frowns, “They aren't really a regular occurrence to be honest. They really only happen when big announcements need to be made.”

She scowls slightly, then nods as she murmurs her thanks, immediately turning right back around and heading out of the common room and storming down to Professor Flitwick's office. She knocks on his door in irritation, being called in in short order. Inside, Professor Flitwick raises an eyebrow as he lays eyes on her, “Miss Potter-Black. I wasn't expecting to see you here again in the first term of school. Usually most first years are too busy finding their footing in the new environment and adjusting to the classes.”

She glances away at the reminder of when he'd asked her to come to his office after classes when he'd been handing out the Ravenclaw schedules. Though it usually only happened in third year and only if a student was adamant about taking more than three electives, with her schedule being so packed, between the magical schooling, non magical schooling, and all her Heir duties, she had ended up being given a time turner.

She didn't really need it, given how good she was at managing her time, but she wasn't about to turn something like that down, so she hadn't mentioned it. Though she had taken the opportunity to ask about that magic that was still clinging to her magical core that she felt invade her body before they hit the wards. He'd been rather surprised, but had explained that it was part of the reason the first years went across the lake. Every year the Ministry would set up a barrier across it so that all the minors crossing would be tagged with the Trace to detect underage magic.(1) He'd been awfully surprised, as apparently students rarely noticed it in any way.

She shakes off the thought as she looks back to Professor Flitwick, “You cannot tell me you have not received complaints about that man who has the audacity to call himself a Professor.”

Professor Flitwick sighs, “This is about Professor Snape.” It isn't a question, but she nods anyway. He sets his quill down and rubs at his eyes, suddenly looking exhausted, “No, you're far from the first who has complained about him. Actually, there have been so many that not only myself, but also Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout have gone to Headmaster Dumbledore about it.”

She frowns, then in an unsurprised flat tone states, “And he's done nothing about it.”

Professor Flitwick pauses, giving her a thoughtful look before speaking slowly, “I cannot say if he has had words with Professor Snape, or if there have been consequences for him, but… I do keep getting complaints about him, and I know I'm not the only one. Headmaster Dumbledore has not deemed that it has gotten bad enough to fire him is all I know.”

She purses her lips then nods, “I see. Nevermind then Professor.”

She nods curtly at him, then turns and leaves, ignoring him calling out for her and barely catching his tired sigh when she doesn't turn back or respond. She heads back up to the Ravenclaw common room, flopping down by Penelope angrily, “We have to do something about Snape.”

The older girl sighs, “You won't hear any arguments from me. Was that why you were asking about House meetings?”

She nods, “I figured since I cannot be the only one who sees an issue with him, that it may be better to bring it up then, when other people could back me up.”

Penelope tilts her head, “Not a bad idea in general, but like I said, they only really happen with major announcements. I take it you went to Professor Flitwick?” She nods again as her scowl deepens, “Didn't get any further than anyone else, huh?”

She shakes her head angrily, “No. He said he and the other Heads of House had spoken to Dumbledore before, but we can all see how much that got them.” She shoves her hair back in aggravation, “This is like Sirius all over again. ‘What's one to do when the higher powers are working against you?’ indeed.”

Penelope gives her a confused and alarmed look, “Sirius? Sirius Black? What's he got to do with anything? And why are you on a first name basis with him?”

She looks up, finding basically the entire common room staring at her. She raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah. I mentioned to Hermione, Ron, and Neville that keeping things hush-hush didn't work so may as well try being loud about it, but with everything going on, it never came up, did it?”

She shakes her head and digs into her bag, pulling out the copy of the stack of evidence for Sirius she took to keeping on hand exactly for situations like these. She holds them out to Penelope, “Here. That Ministry file is a copy of Sirius’ and the answer you're looking for can easily be found comparing the arrest date and time to the confirmation of arrival date and time at Azkaban, but the rest will give you the full story.”

Penelope takes it hesitantly, immediately dropping the rest of the stack into her lap and flipping back in the file to compare the times she'd mentioned. Her eyes blow wide as she makes a choking noise, “Merlin! That-! But that's-!”

Roger Davies stops watching from a distance and strides over quickly, “Penelope? Pen? What's wrong?”

Penelope shakes her head, shoving the whole folder into his chest which he instinctively grabs and burying her face in her hands. She sees tears slip through the cracks as she mumbles, “He never deserved…”

Roger gives her an alarmed look, and she just shrugs and gestures at the file, “May wanna read them out loud, just in case you're too overwhelmed at the idea like poor Penelope here to let everyone know what's going on.”

He gives her an uncertain look, then squares his shoulders and pulls the folder away from his chest. His eyes flick down and he reads out loud like she'd suggested, “Mm, name, date of birth, reason for arrest, ah! Time of arrest, 7:32 AM, 1st of November, 1999.” His eyes flick over to the other sheet, “Time of arrival in Azkaban, 8:15 AM.. first of… November…. 1999…..”

A dead silence descends on the common room, making Penelope's sniffles ring out as loud as screeching metal on metal as Roger stares at the file with wide eyes flicking back and forth between the two, as though he can hardly believe it himself, despite being the one who read it aloud.

Eventually he lifts his gaze to her and breaks the quiet in a horrified whisper, “And hour? But… but that's… that's not enough time for a proper questioning, much less a-”

He cuts off as the realization slams into him properly, “Much less a trial, yes.” She nods over at the evidence stack on Penelope's lap, “The whole story is there if you want it. The book is a copy of my mother's journal and those tabs are on the relevant pages. The letter is a copy of my parents’ wills, though the Ministry copy was sealed so they were never carried out.”

He snatches up the journal and flips to the first of the tabs. As he starts reading that out loud too, she tunes him out as she shuffles over to Penelope. She touches the older girl's shoulder gently, “Penelope? Are you okay?”

The blonde Prefect lifts her head, teary eyes staring at her below furrowed eyebrows, “...My aunt… She committed suicide when I was nine. She-” Penelope hiccups, “She'd been raped, and the bastard got away with it because of his connections. It destroyed her. How… How can a man like that, a man that practically murdered my aunt, get away with little more than a slap on the wrist while a totally innocent man rots in- in that place?”

She sighs, “Because our society has fallen very very far. We must act before it falls completely.”

Edward Dupont scoffs, and it's only then that she lifts her gaze to her horrified silent House, Roger clearly having read through the relevant sections quickly rather than read the entire passages. He crosses his arms and narrows her eyes at her after she looks up and locks eyes on him, “Our society has fallen? The only fall that's happening is Bones and all the others, and you now, disrespecting the Ministry like this. I don't even know how you got a hold of those since they're supposed to be private, but mark my words, I will be writing to my father and you will be in a lot of trouble.”

She tilts her head as she gets up and walks towards him, “Edward Dupont. I'm surprised your father didn't warn you, but then again, given that a copy of my mother's posthumous letter to me, the very one delivered when I was seven that kickstarted Amelia trying to free Sirius, was only added into the evidence list a week after the school year began, I suppose he hasn't had the time. As might be obvious from that, I am the one the original evidence regarding Sirius’ innocence came from. Of course I have copies, and I'm sure your father and the rest of them have realized that already.”

He'd blanched and his eyes had gone wide as soon as she revealed that she was the source of the evidence. She reaches up to gently run the backs of her fingers of her right hand down his cheek, “Speaking of warnings though, pass this one along to your father. While I expect the supposedly alleged Death Eaters to oppose Amelia and the rest of us,” Her fingers reach the end of his face and she trails them over the underside of his jaw, “others like your father are making it abundantly clear who else is an enemy of myself, House Potter, and House Black.” She suddenly grabs his jaw in a tight grip and yanks his head down to her level, and hisses out, “And the longer they oppose us, the more on my bad side they dig themselves into.”

Then she shoves him back, causing him to stumble, nearly falling on his ass. He scrambles to regain his balance and starts to scurry out the door. She hums as she lifts her left arm to cross lazily over her body, resting her right arm on the back of her left hand, with her index finger lightly pressed against her cheekbone, the back of her middle finger against her bottom lip and her thumb resting against the underside of her jawbone, “Run away and pass that along, little coward.”

He glances back at her, eyes nearly panicked, and the door slams shut behind him. There's a beat of silence before Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, breaks it, “Man, Calanthe, you're kinda scary when you're mad, aren't you?”

She looks over at her, amusement in her eyes, “Did you learn Chinese, or did your family eventually stop keeping up with it after immigrating from China?”

Cho tilts her head, “We still learn it alongside English as we grow up. Why?”

She quirks a smile, “One of my soulmates was born in China and raised there until he was twelve. He got one taste of my temperament when I was eight and immediately gave me the nickname Xiǎolóng.”

Cho tosses her head back as she laughs briefly, grinning wide at her when she drops her gaze back down, “Honestly? That fits.”

Her friend that was almost always at her side, something Edgecomb, leans forward, “Why?”

Cho looks over in amusement, “Because it means ‘Little Dragon’ that's why.”

Edgecomb makes a silent ‘Oh’ as she leans back again, and she shakes her head as she turns to the common room as a whole, full of a mixed bag of emotions. She lifts her left hand and drops her right to clap twice sharply, “Well, there's no point being depressed about Sirius and the implications of what that says about our government right at the moment. It's in Amelia and the rest of their hands, and for now there's not much we can do. Anyway, we were discussing Snape and what we were gonna do about him.”

Penelope's shaking hands rub her tears away, “We can't exactly do anything more about that then we can Sirius though.”

She smiles her vicious smile, “Don't be so sure about that. I have a few ideas.”

The common room in general perks up in interest.

She leans across the gap, looking at the pictures Hermione was excitedly showing her on her phone, which her parents had sent her. The small body camera she'd managed to get her hands on and clipped to the front of her robes recording basically twenty-four seven -only turning off when she dumps the recording onto the magical memory space expanded laptop she'd brought just for said storage even though there wasn't an internet signal out here and goes to bed and turning back on the moment she was done getting dressed in the morning-, catching the moment when the doors are suddenly flung open and Professor Quirrell comes running in and up the middle aisle, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Troll! Troll in the dungeon!” He seems to run out of steam as he stumbles to a halt, murmuring faintly, “Thought you ought to know.”

Then he faints right then and there. Panic breaks out, but it's swiftly quelled by a firecracker sound. Turning, she sees Dumbledore holding his wand up, presumably the source of the noise, “Prefects,” He quickly rounds the head table, “lead your Houses back to your dormitories immediately!”

He's gone in seconds after that, striding out of the Great Hall doors with the teachers hot on his heels. The students hurry to stand, and she quickly shoves everything away from the spot in front of where she'd been sitting and jumps up to stand on the newly empty spot on the table, “Don't!” Everyone turns to her in surprise, “I would like to remind Hufflepuff and Slytherin that your dorms are in the dungeons.”

Students wearing black and yellow and silver and green ties all over the hall collectively blanch at the reminder, “And furthermore, we have no way of knowing where in the dungeons Professor Quirrell saw it. If he spotted it on the stairs, it could very well have already come up in the time it took him to rush here, so we have no way of knowing where in the castle it is now. We would all have better chances if we stuck together in the Great Hall.”

The students share looks, and a lot of them flop back down or slowly sit, though some of them remain on their feet uncertainly. She turns to Percy, one of Ron's older brothers, who looks torn between following what Dumbledore had told them to do and keeping everyone as safe as possible, “Percy.” He lifts his gaze to her from where it had drifted to the floor, “We obviously don't want to tangle with it, but see if you can't find a few Gryffindor's willing to keep watch on the ways into the entrance hall so we'll at least have warning if it comes this way? They don't necessarily need to be from your House, but given you lot tend to have the steadiest nerves…”

He blinks rapidly for a moment, then straightens up as he nods sharply, “You can count on me.”

She nods, then sweeps a gaze over the hall quickly before raising her voice enough to be heard across the Slytherin table, “Susan, Hannah.” They both quickly scamper around the end of the table, leaving her very glad she'd sat near the end, she drops her voice to be a little quieter, though she doesn't whisper, “There are quite a few people who look like they're either close to or already in the midst of a panic attack. Hufflepuffs tend to be the most empathetic of the Houses, can you lot see about calming them down?”

Susan looks around in surprise, and only just seems to notice the students she was referring to, turning back to her to give her a determined smile, “Don't worry Calanthe, we'll take care of them.”

She nods, then turns to Penelope, who had wandered over while she was talking to Susan, “Penelope, can you and some of the older Ravenclaw's talk things over and figure out what our strategy is if the troll does show up?”

Penelope nods and immediately turns around to hurry over to the cluster the older Ravenclaws were making. She turns towards the Slytherin table, “Daphne, you Slytherins literally have cunning as a House trait. Exit strategy. In case things go south.”

She looks around as people start working, and calls out in general, “And someone check on Professor Quirrell.”

With everything they can do either already being done or being worked on, there's nothing else to do but hunker down and wait. About an hour later, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout all rush in, relief washing over their faces when they see them. McGonagall presses a relieved hand to her chest, “Thank Merlin! Do you have any idea how worried we were when we found none of you in your dorms?!”

The students start shifting uncertainly, and Percy and Penelope, having sort of become in charge look to her. She stands up without hesitation, “I told them not to Professor.”

McGonagall's eyebrows furrow, “Miss Potter-Black? Why would you…”

She lifts her chin, “I would like to remind you, that the Slytherin and Hufflepuffs dorms are in the dungeons, which was the troll's last known location.” The three of them blanch as their expressions become horrified, “Additionally, we had no way of knowing when and where in the dungeons exactly Professor Quirrell saw it, so there was no way of knowing if it had come up in the time it took him to get up here and therefore where it actually was in the castle, so it was just as foolish for the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors to isolate themselves from any potential backup. I figured our best bet was for all of us to stay together in the Great Hall, with some people keeping watch to give us warning if it started this way.”

McGonagall stares at her for a few moments, then shakes herself, “One hundred points to Ravenclaw for quick thinking under pressure and helping keep your fellow students safe.” Her mouth twists in a grimace, “Particularly since by the time we found it, it was on the second floor. Which is not in the dungeons.” Student's breaths hitch all around the room as they realize she was right. Professor McGonagall shakes her head, “We have dealt with it however, so please make your way to your common rooms now.”

Students slowly start getting up and heading out, though she notices they're all in groups even with McGonagall's reassurance, even if they have to wait for other students to be ready to leave.

She can't blame them. Hogwarts was supposed to be safe. They have to be shaken to their cores. If there's one upside to all of this, maybe some of them will start questioning Dumbledore after his fuck up.

“Heiress Potter-Black, with all due respect, are you insane? If this doesn't work…”

She folds her hands against her stomach, “It will work. They won't have a choice. But it will only work if we all make a show of unity and stand together on this.”

Around her, students from all Houses, though the percentage from Slytherin was rather low, share nervous looks. Though she does her best to hide it, her heart is in her throat as her nerves flare up. She wasn't kidding about it only working if they worked together, and she'd already signed the parchment to try to encourage them to stand with her, and so had her friends in a show of support, so they would kind of be screwed if they didn't sign too…

Percy Weasley suddenly stands up, expression determined, “I'll sign it and stand with you. You have my support Calanthe.”

He marches forward to put action to words and sign, and as he does, Penelope and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff also stand up. They glance at each other in surprise at them both standing at the same time, but Cedric nods at Penelope, ceding the floor to her. She turns back to her with a smile, “You have my support as well Calanthe. There is no wisdom in staying on established ground that we know is steadily sinking and becoming unstable.”

Cedric nods firmly in agreement, “We students have to show them we're loyal to each other and the overall school. I'm with you as well.”

She smiles at the fact the three of them seem to galvanize the rest of the school, but she's not very surprised. Percy, for all that the Gryffindor's like to tease him for being so serious about his studies and a stickler for the rules, was being bold enough to risk his education and being recalcitrant against the teachers to show his support for her.

Penelope, a Prefect for Ravenclaw, was pointing out that it would be unwise to not support her. And Cedric, well respected by his house in general, was insisting that now was the time to unite and show loyalty by standing with her. And while she hadn't stood up and said anything, for the handful of Slytherins, she knows it's telling enough that Daphne was among those who signed even before the meeting. Knows that to them it meant she'd calculated the risks and gains and decided it was the best course of action.

Given Ron had been one of the ones to preemptively sign to show his support and Percy had been the first to throw in with them, she's not surprised when the Weasley twins get up, and though they don't say anything, they do come over and sign, one of them giving her a partially mischievous partially reassuring wink.

That opens the proverbial floodgates, as student after student comes up to sign as well. As they do, she smiles and raises her voice a little to make sure everyone can still hear her over the shuffle, “Excellent! While we will need this before we can even fully start, we'll also need some of the voting to be done before we go to them. We don't need all of it, just enough to have the beginnings there, so we need to be thinking about that. Keep that in mind.”

She looks over at Hermione, finding her sporting a rather satisfied expression as she watches people continue to sign. Their eyes meet and they share a smile at how well things were going.

She smiles in utter satisfaction at the turn out. The debate club she had started with Hermione, Daphne, Susan, and Hannah had been meeting twice a week and steadily gaining popularity, given that while there were also more normal ones, they were not shy about generally sensitive topics like blood purity and wizarding traditions. That being said, the Slytherins, unsurprisingly, had been somewhat leery of coming to any, so they'd only had a few.

Until today that is.

Putting up the debate meeting poster for the Light vs Dark vs Neutral Debate, and labeling it ‘Politics and Magic: Light vs Dark, or does it matter? Light- Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom. Dark- Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott. Neutral- Calanthe Potter-Black, Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones’ had drawn them in, unable to resist the temptation of such a hot topic.

Especially given she'd drawn in the Dark debate team by casually pulling them into the topic while she had been discussing it with Daphne, then pointing out that unless they took the Dark debate team role, they could either hope that someone else suitable would take up that side, or leave them unrepresented. Which, just as she'd predicted, Malfoy at least hadn't been able to turn down.

There were even teachers in the back in attendance, though using the excuse that given the Slytherins were wary of them, she'd managed to swing sworn oaths from them not to tell Dumbledore or Snape. Not even by happening to discuss it where they think they'll overhear or find out, or let any other teacher's know before explaining the situation and getting an oath from them in turn to do the same in exchange for their standing invitations after Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout had seen the notice of the meetings on the board.

They'd been in and out of the various meetings, but all of the teachers in the know had also been drawn in by such a hot button topic, though they were sitting out of the way in the back so as to not draw attention to themselves.

Penelope, who had volunteered to be the debate moderator, taps on a little bell as the clock ticks over to the debate’s start time to get the murmuring crowd's attention. She lifts her gaze to them after setting the little bell hammer down, “The debate for ‘Politics and Magic: Light vs Dark, or does it matter?’ will be starting now. For those of you who haven't been here before, I'll give a brief explanation of how this works.”

“Each debate team will be called in order to make their opening statements, and once that's done, we'll cycle through them, each having five minutes to make arguments and counter arguments, until the debate as a whole either runs out of time, or it becomes clear they have nothing more to add and are just going in circles rewording previous arguments.” She gestures to them, “I'll introduce each of the debate parties now. For the Light debate party, we have Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Neville Longbottom.”

She hears some scattered snickering from the Slytherins scattered in the crowd, and Parkinson leans over to Malfoy to ‘murmur’ loud enough to carry, “With an opposing team as pathetic as that, this will be pretty easy.”

Penelope turns to her sharply, “Miss Parkinson! I know full well that all of you, on every team not just the Dark debate team, were warned that such conduct will not be tolerated! You will be cordial and there will be no insults. There will be no more warnings after this, I will eject you from the debate if you do it again!”

Parkinson flinches slightly, then nods jerkily with a scowl as she crosses her arms. Penelope eyes her for a few moments, then nods in satisfaction and turns back to the crowd as she gestures to Parkinson's table, “Anyway. For the Dark debate party, we have Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson.” Finally she turns to her own table, “Lastly, for the Neutral debate party we have Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones, and Calanthe Potter-Black.”

That gets exactly the reaction they were expecting as she hears various murmurs break out among the crowd.

“Potter? Potter's really on the neutral side? Not the light-”

"And Bones as well? But isn't her aunt-”

“-thought it was a joke, or a mistake -”

Penelope picks up her hammer again to lightly tap on it, since she doesn't need to call order from a heavy hit right now. When the outbreak has died down, she continues, “The debate order was already settled randomly with coin tosses before, so the order will be Dark debate party, Light debate party, then Neutral debate party.” As she says the last, she gestures over to where Percy was standing a bit out of the way with a board of them listed in order with timers next to each, and an overall debate timer at the top. She turns to the Dark debate table, “Overall debate time will start when the Dark debate party starts us off. Now, Dark party, please give your opening statement.”

Though she does pay attention, everything they say is honestly exactly what her party had been expecting, and nothing really jumps out to her. When they're done and the turn shifts, as much as it makes her feel a little bad since they are actually her friends unlike the Dark debate party, the Light debate party is equally predictable and unnoteworthy.

Finally, they're also done and Penelope turns to her table, "Now, Neutral party, please make your opening statement."

Calanthe stands up and sweeps her gaze over the crowd that seems to be collectively leaning forward in anticipation, "Light and Dark politics… are both equally destructive towards our society."

She sees both of the other sides of the debate snap their gazes up and begin paying avid attention sharply in surprise. It wasn't a strange reaction. In their opening statements, the Dark had defended the traditions of the Wizarding World and laid out exactly how the muggleborns had historically damaged it, the Light had defended the need for progress and how vital muggleborns had been for said progress. Everyone had likely expected for the Neutrals to follow suit and take a position on the fence, not deny both sides in one sentence.

She waits a beat for the murmurs in the crowd to die out, and to be honest for a little bit of dramatic effect, before she holds up a Galleon, "I'm sure you all know what this is. The Galleon is a perfect example of exactly why both Dark and Light politics damage not only our society but other aspects of the wizarding world such as our economy."

Due to the way the tables were laid out in a sort of bowl shape with the Neutrals in the middle, she can easily see both of the other sides quickly sharing looks and frantically looking over the pages of the prepared material from each side that had been shared so that no one would be walking in without at least a vague idea of what topics each side would be covering and therefore have time to prepare their counter arguments rather than be put on the spot. It was clear that neither of the other two debate parties had bothered to look over the Neutrals parchment, either because they were expecting the same as the crowd had or because they were too focused on each other.

She holds the Galleon up a little higher, "Can any of you tell me what the value of the Galleon is compared to the muggle British Pound?"

There's a brief pause, and it isn't until she raises an eyebrow at Hermione that they realize she actually expects an answer. Her friend straightens and promptly responds, "Five pounds to the Galleon."

She shakes her head, "Incorrect." Surprise and confusion sweeps across not only her friend's face, but any that know of her reputation, "That is the exchange rate, not the value."

Parkinson sticks her nose in the air with a huff, "It's the same thing."

Penelope, being the debate moderator, frowns at the interpretation, but she waves her off as she turns to Parkinson, "Also incorrect. Its value compared to the Pound is fifty Pounds to a Galleon. Five Pounds to a Galleon is just the Ministry forced exchange rate." Hermione and Malfoy straighten sharply, both immediately seeing the problem, but she presses on regardless, "Approximately thirty years ago, the Ministry looked at the fifty to one exchange and asked itself how the muggleborns could ever possibly afford anything while working under such a rate, a fact compounded by complaints from Muggle families who brought their children, saw the rate, and complained before seeing how far those Galleons got them."

She gestures over at the Dark debate team, "The Dark did what the Dark has done for a few centuries by now and stuck their noses up and essentially proclaimed that it was the problem of muggleborns. They didn't bother to investigate the issue and simply decided that the muggleborns ought to just know the value of a currency of a world they only just joined, and if they didn't then obviously they were just trampling all over the Wizarding World as usual. Once again doing what they love to do, complaining about the ignorance of muggleborns but doing nothing to help educate them, and promptly turned their back on the situation."

Then she gestures to the Light, "This left the Light to do what the Light constantly does, namely bend over backwards trying to blindly accommodate the muggleborns without bothering to investigate the underlying issue, in this case nothing more than a lack of information on the parents' parts and just imagining an issue on the Ministries part, or the repercussions of doing so, and forced through legislature to enforce a lower exchange rate, supposedly to help the muggleborns."

She tilts her head slightly down to give everyone a deadpan look, the sort that would have her looking over the edge of her glasses at them if she was wearing them instead of contacts, "This did not help the muggleborns.” She lifts her head back up to be more level, “In fact it only deepened the societal divide between purebloods and muggleborns. Now, instead of initially being shocked then quickly acclimatizing when they saw the prices in the Wizarding World, muggleborns would come into our society and go through school blissfully unaware of the incredibly damaging misinformation the Ministry had fed them, only to have a nasty surprise waiting on the other end in the form of the wages they were offered."

She shrugs lightly, "Some wise up quickly, or maybe even figured it out during school if they were particularly observant or clever, but the vast majority automatically assume that they are being cheated for their blood status, even in the cases when they are actually being offered an extremely generous wage. This in turn directly led to the aforementioned deepening of the societal divide."

"Given that Voldemort suddenly had the support necessary to begin waging war on the Wizarding World within a decade of this, when prior to the legislation and the rising tensions it caused, the weariness and wounds from the Grindelwald War were still prevalent, one could argue that it may very well have given Voldemort the opening he needed to gain power. And while we admit that would be difficult to prove, one can't argue that the increased tensions didn't help the situation."

She waves her hand, "And that's before you touch on the economic damage it has done and is currently doing. Statistics and projections happily provided by Gringotts themselves show that not only are we already experiencing the financial repercussions of this in the form of exponential depreciation, they also project that if nothing is done then within the decade we will experience a financial crisis and within fifteen years a total collapse. The only reason we haven't already is due to the fact that the Gringotts goblins are very good at their jobs, and having seen the problem even before the legislature went into effect have been doing everything in their power to slow the proverbial bleeding."

She sweeps her gaze over both her opponents and the crowd, all of them stunned into silence by the bombshell she'd just dropped, "There are plenty of issues, but there's just one more major issue in Dark vs Light that I will bring up in our opening statement. One that might even hit closer to home, and that's the damage the current political structure has done to our very understanding of magic itself."

"You might be asking yourself, 'What do current politics have to do with our understanding of magic? How could they have possibly damaged it?' The answer is everything. It's no coincidence that the officially recognized political parties are Dark, Light, and Neutral, and it doesn't have anything to do with the Traditional vs Progressive or Anti- vs Pro-muggleborn divisions. It has to do with magical alignment, because yes, to those uneducated here, it actually is a thing, and spoiler alert, it doesn't mean what you think it does, especially to you muggleborns or half bloods."

There's a lot of shifting and murmuring among the crowd, "Muggle culture has practically primed those of you familiar with it that the difference between Light and Dark is the difference between something inherently good and something inherently evil. It is not. It is more akin to the difference between a positive and negative charge, and much like when lightning strikes, balance is important. There are differences between magic and types of electrical charges of course, but it was for this reason that when the Wizengamot was initially formed and the families that make it up were selected, there was extreme care put into selecting an equal amount of families whose magic tended towards Dark, Light, and those with neutral magical alignment.”

She sighs, “Unfortunately, between modern politics mudding the waters and the fact that legislature was passed under the pressure of uneducated masses that strictly prohibits the use of Dark Magic as well as Politicians pushing to have any spell they dislike labeled as Dark regardless of whether or not they are, these meanings and their importance have been almost forgotten by purebloods and is almost entirely unknown to any but the most studious of half bloods and muggleborns."

She frowns heavily, "Such as this. Raise your hand if you have heard or read the term Black Magic or White Magic." Less than ten people, not counting the teachers in attendance, raise their hands. Which is saying something given that her name listed under the Neutral debate team for this had gotten the desired attention and turnout, even more than she had been hoping for to be honest, having drawn in what seemed like at least ninety percent of the school, "And out of the less than ten students and not even all of the teachers, how many of you actually know what they mean, or at least the difference between Dark and Light and Black and White magics? And I'm going to preempt anyone who's going to try guessing from the names, no, they aren't just more extreme versions of Light and Dark, there is White Dark magic, and Black Light magic."

All but two hands lower, and even the teachers get confused looks and put their hands down, "Only two of the vast majority of a school that teaches magic. The answer is that Light and Dark magic are nothing more than what I said earlier, essentially the same magic with just different charges, whereas Black magic is magic which requires unwilling sacrifice, and White magic requires willing sacrifice. Both have been banned since 1738 when any magic requiring any sort of sacrifice was made illegal."

She narrows her eyes, "Which is yet more damage to the British Wizarding World done by both the Light and Dark. The former by being influenced by muggleborns entering our world and their knee-jerk reaction that Dark equates evil, and if it contains the word 'sacrifice' you're obviously murdering people. And don't misunderstand, the Dark are equally at fault.”

“When muggleborns or unknowing half bloods brought such ideas into our world, they chose to just sneer at their ignorance rather than educate them. When they saw the Light begin to grow so heavily influenced as to start forgetting the truth, they stuck their noses up, and then they grew so angry at the inevitable illegalizing of Dark, Black, and White magic, having all been lumped together with Black magic and legally defined as Dark, they came to eventually forget why they were mad at the muggleborns, and blamed it on their blood rather than the ignorance they had allowed to fester, when they are equally as responsible as the Light for educating them.”

She shakes her head, “If not more so, given that statistically, there are more traditionalists in the Dark faction than the Light, and if you want to protect your traditions then you must be prepared to take on the tasks of defending them and educating the ignorant. Because society is an inherently progressive thing. It will continue to move forward, and the only traditions with staying power are those that can reasonably explain why they continue to belong."

She raises her eyebrow at the Dark table and then the crowd of bristling Slytherins, "Unless of course, you'd all prefer the good old days when women were property? Or perhaps when you could be made a slave? Maybe you'd prefer when instead of getting to pay off debts over time and only suffering a penalty if you miss a payment you were usually expected to pay them and the interest back in full all at once, and even if you were lucky enough to only have to make payments, in either case if you didn't have the money, it wouldn't be unusual to be forced to become an indentured servant, perhaps even for the rest of your life?"

She lets the uncomfortable silence hang for a moment, "I thought not." Then she holds the Galleon up again, "People say that the Dark and the Light are two sides of a coin. One could flip this coin, but well." She shrugs, "When one is stuck between one side which blindly bends over backwards without either investigating or fixing the underlying issues and labels any who speak against them as bigots, or the other side which complains about ignorance then refuses to enlighten and cries blood traitor to any who dissent, then it doesn't matter what side it lands on. The damage this single coin will do is colossal and unaffordable.”

She sets the coin down on the table with a satisfying click that echoes with the significance of a gunshot, then waits a moment before saying into the stunned silence, "This ends the opening statement of the Neutral debate team."

As she retakes her seat, whispers and murmurs break out amongst the crowd, and she has to fight to keep the giddy excitement off her face. When she'd put up the post about the debate, she had been hoping that the societal hot topic of Light vs Dark and her name listed as on the neutral team would draw a large crowd, but even she'd been surprised at how many showed.

It didn't matter if they had only shown to see her, which was honestly part of the reason she'd set up the debate so early in the year before they could get used to her presence, they were regardless still here and listening. It was good. Except electing retainers for the Black and Potter Lordships and letting them in on her desires, she wouldn't have any direct power in the Wizengamot until she could claim her Lordship at thirteen, but she did have access to a good chunk of the future of the Wizarding World and the teachers that guide them, and swaying their opinions was just as important.

She has their undivided attention from the opening statement. Now she needs to persuade them, if not see things from her perspective, then to at least think instead of just following the loudest voice like the sheep of the Wizarding World was so fond of.

She shares a simultaneously satisfied and determined look with Daphne and Susan. They'd had a great start with their purposely dramatic opening statement. Now they just needed to keep their momentum.

She sucks in a sharp breath in rage. There, resting in her hands, was her family's heirloom invisibility cloak, having been wrapped up and waiting for her amongst her Yule presents.

She grinds her teeth. Dumbledore. She knows that loopy handwriting, and she knows full well from his portrait who her father had loaned it to. How dare that pompous ass return it to her like he was giving her a gift. Like it wasn't already rightfully hers.

She eyes it in suspicion, then slips the chain of her trunk over her head and sets it down and enlarges it, heading down immediately. As she rounds the corner, her parents start to happily give her holiday greetings before they notice her expression, and her mom's brow furrows, “Sweetheart? Is something wrong?”

She holds the invisibility cloak up, “Guess what was wrapped up and in with my presents?”

Her mom sucks in a sharp breath, “He didn't.”

She snarls, “He did.” She takes a deep breath before focusing on her dad, “How complicated would it be to check if he tampered with it?”

Her dad hums as his painted eyes slip closed in thought, “Given how it was made… I sincerely doubt he could've messed with the original enchantments. He likely just layered new spells on top. Theoretically, unless he actually did manage to mess with its base enchantments, you should just be able to hand it to Moony when he gets up and have him give it a quick look over.”

She flicks her gaze away, eyebrows furrowing practically habitually at the reminder of Remus’ transformations, a poorly timed one of which had seen him out of commission recovering on Yule day. From previous experience, he'd likely be shuffling out for a few hours after noon, and he'd preemptively insisted for her to just open her presents and enjoy her Yule morning rather than sit around waiting for him to be up to getting out of bed.

She sighs tiredly, the rage bubbling down as the now old weariness from coming across yet more of his manipulations comes up. She runs her fingers through her bangs as she stares at her family's invisibility cloak, “Is there nothing that man won't do? Everything else was already bad enough, but then he had to go tampering with a family heirloom? There's history and heritage in heirlooms. Is nothing sacred to him?”

Her mom sighs as well, “With everything else we've learned he's done? Honestly, no. I wouldn't put anything past him at this point. I'm sorry sweetie.”

She shakes her head, “Not your fault. I'm… gonna go tuck this somewhere I don't have to be looking at it and constantly reminded that he probably fucked with it and go open Hei's present. I wasn't expecting to need the comfort of something from Hei to help my mood, but I did save it for last.”

Her dad smiles encouragingly, “That's a good plan. Just put it out of sight and mind for now and go see what Hei's letter and present is.”

She smiles weakly, “Okay. Happy Yule. I'll be back later.”

Her parents murmur back the holiday well wishes, and she moves off to do exactly as she said she was going to do.

Hei finds himself smiling warmly as he finishes Calanthe's letter, then opens the gift she'd sent him, even as he mentally crosses his fingers again and hopes she'll like the Dragon styled kris dagger(2) and sheath with Dragon scale detailing that he'd given her, a perfect blend of both practicality and sentimentality.

When he has the wrapping paper off the present she'd sent him, he's not too surprised to find that unlike the constant stream of gifts to help him, this one is entirely sentimental, being a photo album, the top and bottom of the spine having skeletal hands wrapped around it, with a scythe trailing down the spine in between them. Inside resting on the first page was a note about how she'd gotten a lot of the photos inside from Pensieve memories, and flipping through it, his eyes soften as he finds picture after picture of him and Calanthe together, some with Remus as well, either in the background or outright in the focus of the shot with them, but mostly just the two of them.

He pauses on a photo of that monopoly game oh so long ago. It feels like a lifetime ago, and in fairness, it had been a couple years, but even that doesn't feel large enough.

He stares at his own form leaning forward towards the table as the sheer force of his laughter starts to force him to double. The magical moving photograph looping through his laughter seeing him lean his forehead against the table before he straightens as he starts to get a hold of himself before the loop repeats as he breaks down again. It almost feels foreign. The mere memory of such happiness and laughter.

Seeing the photo of himself so joyous, even though he knows full well it is, he can't help the disbelieving questions that pop into his mind, ‘Is that man really me? A man laughing so hard he can't even hold himself up? Was I ever really that happy?’

Gods, but he misses Calanthe. The things he'd do to get back to that. Back to her and back to days full of laughing at her starting to learn how to use wires and her grumpily threatening to push him off the beams near the roof in retaliation. Back to listening to her playing up her dramatics just to make him laugh. Back to peacefully working together in the kitchen as they playfully tease each other or just calmly chat like they don't have a single worry in the world.

Hell, given that being snatched up by the Syndicate when he was twelve and everything he'd gone through in his years with them, including being shipped off to the Heaven's war, had left him rather desensitized to violence and killing, he wouldn't even mind that on it's own if he was still with her. He'd do it willingly if he could still be with her.

He tears his gaze away from his slightly younger self, carefree and happy, gazing at Calanthe, eyes sparkling in attempted hidden delight at how much laughter she was getting from him, lips twitching as she tries to hold back her smile. He runs a thumb over the photo as he stares at her, drinking in her image. It's not the first photo she's sent of course, but he finds himself doing that a lot with her pictures. Just… staring. Taking her in like some part of him was terrified he'd forget what she looked like or something.

There probably was actually, given he was all too familiar with being made to forget things he never should've, like his own name and birthday. Or maybe like a less logical part of him was desperately wishing if he stared enough that she'd crawl out of the picture somehow and he'd have her back.

Then again, if that actually did somehow happen, if she somehow pulled off some sort of transportation through photos, he'd just end up panicking and hurrying her to portkey away before the Syndicate realized she was there and hurt, captured, or just straight up killed her.

He forces himself to tear his eyes away from the particular draw of that photo and continue through them. His breath hitches and he actually tears up a little bit at the very end. The rest of the photos had been dedicated to their time together, but the last one was more recent.

Below the last photo in the album, in Calanthe's near soulmark level graceful handwriting were the words, ‘Come home eventually. I'm still waiting on a rematch, you cheating cheater.’

The photo itself was a recent one of Calanthe sitting at the table in the kitchen, pushing her monopoly piece in idle circles on the set up board. She mostly looks bored, like he just stepped out for a quick errand or something and she was waiting for him to get back, but he knows her well enough to spot the well hidden sadness in her eyes as they gaze at the monopoly board.

He stares at it, drinking in the image of how much Calanthe has grown since he last saw her. It hurts to see that sadness in her eyes, but that was something he could accept to see how she's grown.

He presses the photo album to his chest. Home. Gods, how much he wants to return.

She follows the pull somewhat reluctantly. After she'd handed the invisibility cloak off to Remus, he had indeed found all sorts of additional spell work on it. Most of it seemed to be geared towards letting Dumbledore know where she was even if she was wearing it, but there was a subtle compulsion on it too.

While she could not leave his… desecration of a family heirloom alone, she also hadn't wanted to tip her hand. Because of that, she and Remus had eventually settled on transferring Dumbledore's spells to a bracelet she could wear so he wouldn't get suspicious about them not working while still allowing her to have his tampering removed from her family's cloak.

She pauses when she finds Snape cornering Professor Quirrell in the hallway leading to where the compulsion spell was tugging her. It's a very brief interaction with Snape seeming to threaten Professor Quirrell, and while she supposes it could be some sort of coincidence, the odds of it happening while she's on her way to whatever the compulsion spell was drawing her to in the very hallway between her and her destination… it seems more likely to her that Dumbledore had set it up for some reason.

When they leave, she shakes it off and continues. The moment she enters the abandoned classroom the spell had been tugging her towards, her heart shoots up into her throat and she immediately knows what Dumbledore had been leading her to.

The Mirror of Erised.

Her family hasn't seen that particular… invention of her great some odd grand uncle in centuries. Almost as long as it'd been since he'd initially made it back in the 1200s, given it had been stolen in his very lifetime. And not for lack of trying either. If anything, they kind of avoided it, given its capacity for insidious danger.

Somewhat reluctantly, she slowly approaches it, since Dumbledore probably has proximity alarm spells in place and will know if she doesn't. She doesn't look into the glass at first, just studies the golden frame and all the subtle hidden hints to its origin within its gilded work. The skeletal hands, the scythes, lions, and thestrals. Eventually, her curiosity gets the best of her and she lets her eyes focus on the mirror itself. She immediately tears up.

Hei.

Standing next to her side casually in the mirror. It takes her… some unknown amount of time to rip her gaze from drinking the sight of him in. She closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath and forces herself to focus. The mirror wasn't exactly intelligent, nor all knowing, but it did know about things that had happened in its vicinity.

She focuses on her desire to know what on earth Dumbledore is up to. The Hei in the mirror smiles and tugs a sheet of paper out of an inner pocket of his coat and holds it up for her to read the note in his handwriting, ‘Don't know. All I know is that the Flamels got a hold of me a few centuries ago and they've been storing the Philosopher's Stone inside me. They finally got tired of constantly extending their lives though, and I and the stored Philosopher's Stone were snatched up by Dumbledore.’

She gives him an incredulous look. The Philosopher's Stone? Seriously, what the hell was that man doing? It was bad enough to bring the Mirror of Erised here, which while not harmful itself has killed many a weak willed man, and to just leave it out in the open where any poor soul could stumble across it, but when it has the Philosopher's Stone inside?

People will and have killed anything in their way for it.

She rubs tiredly at her eyes. She didn't particularly want it, nor the danger that follows it, but that was not something that could fall into Dumbledore's hands, else no one would ever be free from him. She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders, getting ready to focus on her desire to know how it's pulled out, but when she looks up, she finds the reflection of Hei smiling at her somewhat mischievously. He leans forward to press a kiss to her reflection’s hair, and the tears well up in her eyes again. She knows she can't, but she swears she can almost feel his warmth.

As she watches with wide eyes, Hei's mirror version looks up at her through his eyelashes even though he doesn't pull away from her reflection, and he reaches into his pocket and tugs the Philosopher's Stone out, then reaches down and puts it in her reflection’s pocket. As he does, she feels the weight of it settle in her actual pocket.

Her breath hitches. And she desperately focuses on her desire to know if Dumbledore has any way of knowing she has it now, either through alarm spells he'd placed on the mirror or him somehow physically watching, but the Hei reflection smiles in reassurance and shakes his head. Then he pulls back and steps away from her reflected counterpart and gestures towards the door, indicating she should leave.

As her gaze shifts to the door, she sees a shadowy figure in the background. She can't make out much of them beyond feminine curves and brown eyes just visible in the moonlight, but the police name tag it was wearing was also just barely visible, as well as the name printed on it proclaiming her to be Kirihara Misaki in Japanese.

It makes her pause momentarily, but it's not too surprising she was there too. She did desire to meet their other soulmate after all. Though she can't quite make out her facial features, since the mirror can't fill it in since she doesn't know what she looks like, she does notice the smile it gives her as the shadowy reflection also points at the door.

She takes a deep breath as she takes a step back to follow the advice of her mirror version soulmates, though just in case Dumbledore was watching, she tosses out, “Dangerous mirror. Never wanna see it again.”

Then she turns and hurries out.

(1): Just wanted to say, this isn't my idea. I got it from a theory over on SuperCarlinBrothers. Originally I had a different thought going through my head as they pointed out holes in the Trace… then they reminded me that Hermione was trying spells before going to Hogwarts. And yet it's never mentioned that she had any sort of warning. Which implies they actually may have the right of it that it's placed during the boat ride, or if they go to some other school during some other time, so I went with it. 

(2): Just googled it and found this, but I make no claim to it. Anyway, Dragon kris dagger: