The Girl who Didn't Just Live

by computerneek

Chapter 8: High Profile Attention Avoidance RW

“I’m back,” Hailey greeted, as she opened the door to her compartment.
Hermione looked up.  “Y-You’re alive!” she gasped, before leaping forward to hug her- forcing Hailey to use hammerspace to dump her jellybeans on the seat before they got crushed, then backstep to absorb Hermione’s energy.
“Yes, I am,” Hailey agreed.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“There was that explosion, and-!”  Hermione began, then wrapped her in her hug again.  “And I was worried!”
“So, how many pieces is he in?” Bonbon asked casually.
“Twelve,” Hailey answered.  “But he’s still alive, don’t worry.”
Bonbon choked on a bean she’d just tossed into her mouth.  “Y-You mean he survived that?” she gasped.
“Yes,” Hailey informed her, closing the door behind her.  “I expect he wishes I’d killed him instead.  But Professor Dumbledore was approaching the car when I was on my way back, so he’ll be in good hands.”  She paused, half-carrying Hermione back to her seat, then sitting down with her, picking up a packet of papers Hermione had abandoned.  “How about you?”
“We went for a little tumble,” Bonbon sighed, “but we’re okay.”
“That’s good,” Hailey nodded, then looked at the packet, and raised an eyebrow.  “Head Student Instructor for Charms?”  She looked at Hermione.  “I told you she’d like you!”
Hermione blushed, snatching the packet back and hiding it behind her.
Bonbon laughed.  “Well, once the train settled on the side of the tracks, Starlight stopped by to drop these off.”  She tapped a box on the seat next to her, then tossed something to Hailey.
She watched it sail towards her.  It looked like a badge- and as it spun through the air, she read its face.
Then she snatched it out of the air, brushed her hair aside, and attached it to the front of her robes, right where all the prefects had their badges.  “Thank you,” she informed Bonbon, flicking her hair so it covered the badge again.
“You’re-?” Hermione began.
“Head Student Instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Bonbon informed her.  “Haven’t found my badge yet, but it should be in there somewhere.”  She tapped the box.
Hailey chuckled.  “I notice Hermione’s not wearing one?”
Hermione blushed scarlet again, averting her eyes.
Bonbon shrugged.  “We were just getting started with the training session,” she informed her.  “The position technically isn’t hers until we finish.”
“Ahh,” Hailey nodded.  “Shall I just sit here and eat jellybeans while you do that, then?”
“Before you do that,” Bonbon smiled, “who was it?”
“Alden Avery,” she answered calmly.  “A prefect.  He was dueling another prefect and apparently proud of his…  attack, so I threw him at the wall.”  She figured it probably wasn’t a very good idea to mention the Curse of Survival and Blessing of Safety that she’d suddenly realized she could cast a couple seconds before slapping Alden’s hand off his arm.
“You must be pretty strong,” Bonbon observed, though her tone suggested it wasn’t a new observation.
“I’m not that strong,” Hailey scowled.  “I mean, it did dent the wall, but that’s beside the point.”
“Had to be a pretty big dent to derail the car,” Bonbon observed.
“And the prefects asked who I was,” Hailey mused, rubbing her chin.
“A girl that punches prefects through walls,” Bonbon supplied.
She rolled her eyes.  “One, I didn’t punch him, only slapped his wrist off.  And two, he didn’t go through the wall, he only got stuck in it.”  She sighed.  “I told them I’m ‘a girl that cares for her friends’.”  She shrugged.  “They seemed to think it was obvious.”
“You slapped his wrist off?” Hermione asked.
“Well, he was pointing his wand at me and I could feel the curse building up inside it.  I thought about just letting him curse me, with a prefect behind him and a prefect, head girl, and protective colorhead behind me, but I promised I’d stay safe, remember?”
“You did?” Bonbon asked.  “I only remember asking you to be careful.”
“It was an implied promise,” Hailey smiled, then scowled.  “Then he decided to punch, so I threw him out of my way and continued to the front to get these beans.”  She plucked a few beans from the package Bonbon had opened almost as soon as she’d put them down, then popped one straight into her mouth without smelling it.  “Blech!”  She chased it down with another bean, also unsmelled.  “That had to be the nastiest thing I’ve ever tasted!”  She paused.  “Though the milk-flavored bean washed it away pretty well.”
“You say that like it’s insignificant,” Hermione observed.
Hailey looked at her, and shrugged.  “What else am I supposed to do?  Panic because I pounded the fear of God into him and made it look easy?  Rejoice at having taught such an evil bastard a lesson?”  She sighed, then averted her eyes.  “I’m glad I taught him a lesson, yes.  But did I really need to throw him hard enough to paint the whole corridor red?  No.”  She sighed again.  “I didn’t even need to throw him hard enough to derail the train- just hard enough to knock him silly would have been plenty.  Only…”  She sighed.  “When I get mad, it gets hard to pull my punches.”
“Same here,” Bonbon supplied.  “I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve lost control of my emotions and accidentally dealt more damage than I wanted to.  It’s…  one of the reasons I keep them so tightly controlled.”
Hailey leaned back in her seat.  “Aurora Lewis.  Alverta Nettle.  Veronica Rosewood.  Flurry Heart.”
Bonbon choked on another bean.
“They saw it happen.  They all know what I look like.  Veronica told me he was the only one bullying students into committing suicide, and the rest know which compartment I’m in, though none of them know my name.”
“Did you say Flurry Heart?” Bonbon gasped.
Hailey looked at her.  “Yeah.  She has curly purple and turquoise striped hair.”
Bonbon leaned back in her seat.  “Cadence will be happy to hear that,” she observed.  “That’s almost certainly Princess Flurry Heart, heir to the throne of the Crystal Empire.”
“She seemed very protective,” Hailey informed her.  “She actually punched Alden in the gut as I was walking away, before realizing that he was still alive.”
“Add insult to injury, of course,” Bonbon sighed.  “She probably thought she was beating a dead horse, but…”
“I think she just wanted her turn.  She, Aurora, and Alverta were watching when I met Hermione.”
“Hmm,” she muttered.  “I’m not sure if Cadence will be impressed or horrified when she hears about that.”  She glanced at Hermione.  “Cadence is Flurry’s mother, by the way, and ruler of the Crystal Empire.”  She sighed, sniffing a bean and popping it into her mouth.  “Flurry vanished from Equestria a little over three years ago now.  Cadence was, rather understandably in my opinion, in a panic- Flurry was twelve at the time.  She’ll be fifteen now- and if we assume she started at Hogwarts immediately after arriving…  she’ll be a fourth-year student.”  She paused.  “Though if she’s protecting the weak, she must’ve had at least some support on this side to keep her from breaking down completely.”

A couple hours after the train started moving again, the sun was just sinking below the horizon out the windows when Aurora finally gathered her courage and knocked on the door to compartment seven of the fifth car.  Even the finest Gryffindor paled when faced with a risk of irritating a Royal.
“Yes?” a voice called from inside.  Unless she’d gotten the wrong compartment, or someone else had joined them in the meantime, that sounded like Bonbon, the girl that the black-haired Royal had introduced Hermione to.
She slid the door open.
There were three girls inside, but that was all:  Bonbon, Hermione, and the Royal.
Exactly as she had hoped.
A second after she was revealed, Hermione leaned back, hiding herself behind the Royal.  Bonbon’s face also grew quickly impassive…  and the Royal’s expression, as she looked at her, seemed to border on tired acceptance- like she’d expected this, but wasn’t a fan of it.
She resisted the urge to close the door again and flee.
“Hi,” she greeted.  All three girls were wearing badges- but the Royal’s was covered by her hair and Hermione’s was hidden behind the Royal, so the only one she could read was Bonbon’s…  which declared her to be the Student Instructor Program Management Team Lead.
“Hello,” The Royal answered, picking up a half-full package of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans that had been on the seat next to her and offering it.  “Want to join us?  We’ve got more candy than we need.”
Aurora found herself instantly uneasy.  The girl was obviously trying to be friendly…  while also offering her an excuse to step in and close the door against eavesdroppers.  There was a hidden message in that offer.
The girl knew what she was there to talk about…  and didn’t want anyone else to find out about it.
“Ah- S-Sure,” she stuttered, causing Bonbon to raise an eyebrow, as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.  “Th-Thanks,” she continued, accepting the candy bag and sitting down in the corner by the door.  The position gave her the angle to see that Hermione’s badge declared her to be the Head Student Instructor for Charms.
The royal scowled.  “Why so scared?” she asked.  “You’re the one with all the authority.”
She paused.  “Huh?  But-!”  She stopped herself, then glanced at Bonbon and Hermione.  “Um…  Do…  Do they know what happened to Alden?”
“Yes,” the girl answered simply.
“Then…  They know you’re a Royal?”
“If they know what a Royal is, then presumably, yes,” she smiled, glancing sideways at her companions.
Bonbon tilted her head.  “What is a Royal?”
“A witch or wizard with ridiculous otherworldly powers,” the Royal answered simply, and shrugged.  “I guess wizardkind ascribes ridiculous political powers to the same, so they got the label ‘Royal’.”
“Y-Yes,” Aurora stuttered.  “A Royal’s word is law, so-!”
“So I’m going to assert that my word is not law,” the Royal declared.
“Uh…  what?”
She shrugged.  “I don’t want political power.”  She paused.  “By the way, you can actually smell the flavors of those beans, and weed out the ones you don’t like.  It’s really fun.”
“So…”  Aurora shuddered, picking a random bean from the bag and smelling it.  To her surprise, she could actually smell it- she’d never thought to try that before!  She wasn’t a fan of the scent, but popped it into her mouth anyways to savor not the flavor of the bean but the sweet taste of victory.  “So is your name still ‘unspecified’, or…?”
“Or unimportant,” Bonbon mused suddenly.
The Royal looked at Aurora for a second, then sighed.  “To the world…  Yes.  But I expect you’ll be finding out soon anyways, so…”  She sighed, reaching up to brush her hair behind her back- all of it, exposing both badge and nameplate.
The girl, Hailey Potter, was the Head Student Instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
“...  Ahh,” she muttered.  “So you’re…  oh my.”
“What?” Hermione asked, then leaned forward to peer at Hailey’s nameplate as well, before the girl tossed her hair again so it fell back over it.  “Oh.  Oh my.”  She sighed, and leaned back in her seat.  “I really can’t blame you for hiding your nameplate, Hailey,” she muttered.  “I would too, if my name was that close to Harry Potter.”
“Yeah, right about,” Aurora sighed.  “That’s going to make things…  complicated.”
“I bet,” Hailey agreed calmly, then smiled mischievously.  “Should be fun, though.”  She paused.  “What does the patch over your nameplate mean?”
“Huh?”  Aurora looked down at her Gryffindor patch, displaying a roaring crimson lion through a large, golden letter H.  “That’s my House Patch,” she informed her.  “It means I’m in Gryffindor.”
“Interesting,” Hailey mused.  “I wonder which house I’ll be in?”
“Uh-!”  She glanced at the door, then back.  “Good question.  You can guess, but nobody really knows until you get there.”
She shrugged.  “Oh well, it’s only a few more hours anyways, isn’t it?”  She paused.  “Does Professor Dumbledore know about Alden?”
“He’s taken Alden to Hogwarts,” Aurora informed her.  “When we told him what happened, he decided to take Alden’s Prefect powers.”  She sighed.  “At the moment, he knows a ‘black-haired girl’ smashed Alden into the wall hard enough to derail three quarters of the Hogwarts Express, and I expect he’s going to be very interested to learn more about you.”
She scowled, picking up what looked like a Chocolate Frog card with the name ‘Albus Dumbledore’ across the top.  “And as one of the greatest wizards of all time…”  She paused.
“That card won’t say it, but he’s also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot- that’s our highest governing body- and simultaneously Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.”
“Mugwump?” Hermione asked curiously, while Hailey let out a giggle.
She shrugged.  “That’s just what it’s called.  No, I don’t know why, nor where it’s from.”
“But if he’s at the top of both national and international governments…”  Hailey sighed.
“He probably won’t be satisfied with letting your political power go silent,” Aurora agreed.  “We’re not planning to tell him any more about you, but…”
Hailey shrugged.  “I should probably be careful about how many walls I punch through, then.”  She sighed.  “Not that I meant to throw him into that wall, either, but you know how strength gets hard to control when you’re mad.”  She leaned back.  “I only needed to throw him hard enough to knock him silly.”
“I’d say he was knocked silly,” Aurora observed.
“He was knocked into twelve pieces,” Hailey corrected.  “I assume he passed out from the pain, but that’s not what I mean.”
“Well…  that and the concussion, so I’d say you did knock him silly.”
“Still.  That was…  an overreaction.”
“He deserved it.”
“He did?”
“If not for you, that would’ve been the first time he managed to kill someone, but it’s far from the first time he’s picked fights or whatever when the teachers weren’t looking.”  She chuckled.  “Professor Dumbledore actually seemed thankful that you’ve given us such irrefutable evidence that a Royal was…  displeased, since that’ll finally let us deal with his politically powerful and extremely conceited family.”
“Huh.  But I still don’t think I needed to throw him that hard.”
“As you wish, My Lady.”
“Call me Hailey, please.”
“Uh- Yes, Hailey.”

Hagrid watched as the train drew to a halt in the station with an odd grinding, scraping noise.  Sparks flew from the tilted fourth car as the wall of the car scraped against the platform edge; the bulge was simply enormous, far larger than the largest one he’d ever made in any wall he had ever struck, childhood included.  Perhaps Dumbledore was right, and it really was a Royal?  Their powers never seemed to make sense, almost always defying logic in some way.  He waited patiently for the train to come to a stop and, resisting the urge to ask about the damage to the train, waved his lantern high.  “First years,” he called.  “First years, over here!”
He was rather disappointed that no response had ever come back from Harry…  yet the Castle magic, for some reason, had never reported his letter undelivered, nor even unanswered.  Something strange was afoot.

“Potter, Hailey!” Professor McGonagall called.  Hagrid had guided the first-years in their maiden voyage across the lake…  and been forced to empty the water out of two boats that had been overloaded and sunk.  Apparently, the wood itself still floated, so the boats had dragged their passengers through the water to the dock rather than across the surface like the rest.  Finally, he’d brought them up to her at the front doors of the castle.  She’d then taken them into a side room, with the letters of the alphabet marked on the walls, and ordered them to sort themselves into the squares marked on the floor near those letters by the first letter of their last names.  When she’d returned a few minutes later, they were about done, so she’d had them form a line in alphabetical order and follow her into the Great Hall, after which the Sorting Hat had sung its song and she’d started the sorting.
Right as a strikingly pretty girl with dark black hair covering her nameplate and a mischievous glint in her eyes stepped forward to accept the Sorting Hat, she noticed that Dumbledore was in the middle of stifling a sneeze.
The girl had just barely begun to place the Hat over her head when it called out “GRYFFINDOR!”
Hailey handed the Hat back to McGonagall- and in the instant in which their hands made contact, she could swear she could feel something deeper to the girl.  She herself was Minerva McGonagall…  also known, to a very select few friends, as the Goddess of Wisdom and Founder of Ravenclaw House…  something which had made her station as Head of Gryffindor House very amusing indeed.
Perhaps this was the girl that young Veronica Rosewood had talked about?  That Madam Pomfrey, Goddess of Healing, was so curious about after seeing the Blessing of Safety that Minerva had also seen on Veronica, and the tenth Curse of Survival ever cast, to any of their knowledge, on Alden Avery?  Had this girl cast those two spells?  She definitely wasn’t one of the Gods; Salazar was seated at the staff table behind her, and Godric was having fun chasing imaginary intruders off his lawn a few hundred miles away.  Was she a Royal?  Was she a higher goddess, the worst fear of every deity she’d ever met, including herself?
Or was she simply a newborn goddess?  Deities were usually made, but it wasn’t unheard of- across the unified Divine Plane that the gods of some hundred or so different universes all had access to- for a new deity to be born.
“Potter, Harry!” she called, as Hailey left the top of the hall on her way down to the applauding Gryffindor table.
The applause cut off as muttering spread through the hall.
“Potter, did she say?” someone asked- a question that amused Minerva, as nobody had noticed that when she’d called Hailey’s name.
Then, and quite suddenly, Professor Dumbledore failed to stifle his very loud sneeze.
About half the Gryffindor table burst into fresh applause, the other half- which included Hailey, she noticed- laughter.
“Bless you,” the Sorting Hat said calmly, as if it happened every day.
The rest of the Great Hall exploded into applause.
But after a few seconds, Harry never stepped forward from the row of students still waiting to be sorted.  Where was he?  When she tried a divine name check, not a single student in the entire Great Hall had the name of Harry Potter.  Had he gotten lost?  Or had Dumbledore mistakenly added his name to the Sorting Scroll?
In any case, something was afoot, so she skipped him and called out the next name.

Ginny,
Hi.  It’s been a little while, hasn’t it?  I’m at Hogwarts now.  The train ride up was fun- I got to meet a self-proclaimed ‘insufferable know-it-all’ named Hermione Granger, and I expect she’ll be a good friend too.  On the other hand, Alden Avery, the prefect that convinced her to commit suicide (I stopped her), got thrown into the wall so hard it derailed most of the train.
Then after the welcoming feast, Dumbledore stood up to award a first year named Morning Sun a Special Award for Services to the School…  for being the voice of reason that kept everyone safe and under control in the back three quarters of the train after the derailment.  She seemed to think she didn’t deserve it, but…
Then Dumbledore said something about dismissing a new prefect after he got slammed into the wall of the train by a Royal, and went on a little about what Royals are and asked us to report sightings of any royals before he sent us to bed.  I’m not entirely sure what that’s all about.
Hailey.

“Ahh, good morning, Hailey.”
Hailey chuckled as she entered the classroom Bonbon had temporarily commandeered for Student Instructor Program use.  “Good night to you too, Bonbon.”  She sighed, taking her seat at the ‘conference table’ they had set up, composed of a number of student desks set against each other.
“Everything go alright with your letter?”
“Yup,” she informed her.  “Hedwig was happy to take it.  Are we waiting for anyone else?”
“Nope,” Bonbon informed her.  “Now that we’re all here, we can get started.”
Hermione blinked, glancing around the table.  She was there, and more than a little tired…  but there were only three other people at the table:  Hailey, Bonbon, and a Ravenclaw second-year named Starlight Glimmer, whose badge declared her to be the Research Team Lead.  “Huh?  This is everyone?”
Bonbon nodded.  “This is the entire Student Instructor Program Management Team so far.  I looked, but Hailey was better at finding prospective management team members than I was, so this is all we have.”
Starlight raised an eyebrow.  “She was better than you?  Wow.”
Bonbon laughed.  “She’s perhaps the single scariest person I’ve ever met.  She’s a lightning-fast learner, she’s got the mental capacity to make dealing with surprises look easy, and she has the strength to derail three quarters of the Hogwarts Express by accident.  I daresay that she would completely flatten me in a fight, or really any other kind of competition I can think of.”
“Not necessarily,” Hailey mused.  “I mean sure, my Royal powers do seem to be rather powerful and diverse, but that doesn’t make me unbeatable.”
Starlight blinked.  “So…  Oh.  Oh my.”  She laughed.  “I’m going to assume we’re going to disregard Dumbledore’s request for info on Royals, then.”
“Yes, we are,” Bonbon agreed.  “The sort of clout that being recognized as a Royal would draw her…  imagine if you were to suddenly find yourself in Princess Celestia’s place, in a world where Celestia, Luna, Cadence, Twilight, and even Flurry Heart had all suddenly disappeared and the entire country is in a panic.”
She winced.  “Let it never be said that leadership is one of my strengths,” she muttered, then drew a breath.  “And I would hate to see something like that forced on anyone, much less someone as capable as she.”
Hailey chuckled.  “But anyways, we gathered for an overnight session after the welcoming feast for a reason, did we not?”
“Right, yes,” Starlight began, passing out some small packets of papers.  “I’ve got the first- and second-year schedules here, on a per-house basis,” she informed them.  Finally, she placed a large scroll on the table.  “Aand, here are the sorting assignments of every first- and second-year student.”
“Alright,” Hailey nodded.  “Let’s get to building all one thousand, three hundred and ninety-four schedules we’re responsible for.”
“That’s…  very specific,” Starlight observed.
“Bonbon told me there are five hundred sixty-seven second-years this year, and I counted eight hundred twenty seven new students sorted today.”
“Alright,” Bonbon agreed.
“So what all do we need to consider?” Hermione asked, scanning down the Professor schedule she’d been given.  “Presumably, every Head Student Instructor or Lead Student Instructor- not that we have any right now, but I’m sure we will at some point- will need to attend their subject’s Professor’s class, and also teach their own.  Then since the HSIs have a class review responsibility, we might want to make sure they’re free during the time slots occupied by other instructors’ classes of their subjects, if possible.  I’d also like to look at acquiring invisibility cloaks so the named instructors don’t know when their HSI is sitting in on their class.”  She rubbed her chin.  “Then each class will need a room, too.  If possible, I’d like to have each class have a room reserved for it twenty-four seven, so we don’t have to juggle rooms between different classes, but it would also be good to have unused rooms available for meetings of the management team or perhaps an HSI or LSI and their subordinates, club activities, or whatever else.”
“Well said,” Bonbon agreed.  “Well said indeed, Hermione.”
“I did some scouting on my way back from the Owlery,” Hailey informed them.  “We’ve got a total of nearly one point three thousand classrooms to choose from, making that pretty close to a whole classroom per student in the lower two years, so we shouldn’t have any trouble on that front.”  She pulled a large piece of paper out of an inside pocket and unfolded it, revealing a detailed map of the entire Castle.
“Where in the world did you get that?” Hermione asked.
“I wrote it.”
“How did you find the time to write it?” Starlight asked, tilting her head curiously.
She smiled.  “Carefully.”
“Yes,” Bonbon decided.  “A very scary girl indeed, aren’t you?”
“I prefer to think of it as ‘capable’,” Hailey informed her amusedly.
“Would the schedules be done faster if you just did them all?” Hermione asked.
Hailey shrugged.  “Possibly, but then it wouldn’t be a team effort- and I don’t believe I know everything that needs to be considered for the schedules.”
“Didn’t I just list it all?”
“I imagine there needs to be a time gap between any given Instructor attending a class as a student and their own teaching assignment in the same subject,” Hailey informed her immediately.  “They can’t just repeat it back verbatim, so they need to have the opportunity to study up on any questions they had before their turn comes along, else we’ll see diminishing lesson quality the further they get from the Professors.  I’m thinking of a minimum of a day or so; I’d like to go in with the expectation that our classes will either meet or exceed the standards set by the relevant Professors, rather than hoping that we don’t lose much.”
“That is a good point,” Bonbon agreed.  “The track record suggests that exceeding the Professors won’t be hard on certain subjects.”  She looked up at Starlight.
“Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts come to mind,” Starlight answered promptly.  “Professor Snape either isn’t trying or hasn’t got a clue how to teach, and upper-year students have told me the school has a new DADA Professor each year, though never one the students actually learn very much from.”  She rolled her eyes.
“Right.  But mine and Hailey’s subjects aside,” Bonbon continued.
Starlight burst into laughter.
“What?” Hermione asked.
“W-Well,” Starlight gasped, struggling to stifle her laughter.  “One of the finest alchemists in Equestria just announced that she’ll be leading the subject that has the known underperforming Professor, then assigning what she says is the smartest person in either of our worlds to the subject that has a new Professor every year that is generally expected to underperform.”  She giggled.  “In other words, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts are probably going to go from the subjects with the lowest two school-wide average grades to the ones with the highest such grades virtually overnight!”
“This is an overnight meeting,” Hailey deadpanned, causing Starlight, Hermione, and even Bonbon to laugh- laughter that she quickly joined.
Bonbon was the first to calm down.  “Alright, jokes aside, we do have a job to do.”  She paused, then looked at Hailey.  “What would you think about doing all the calculations and whatnot to build the schedules, then we all review them to make sure they work well?”  She paused, then lifted a large, rope-bound deck of parchment.  “This, by the way, is the list of Instructor Candidates I’ve been able to find, and every detail I was able to gather on each one.”
Hailey rubbed her chin.  “Possible.  I mean, breakfast starts in eight and a half hours, so that leaves just under twenty-two seconds per schedule if we do them one at a time.”  She paused.  “So before I turn two and a half reams of paper into three sickles of recycling, is there anything we’re missing?”

The large barn owl, which Dumbledore recognized as one of the school owls, took off as soon as Dumbledore accepted its quite heavy letter.  It was now the morning of the second day of term; the first day of classes, just the day before, had been…  remarkably quiet.  He hadn’t heard even an inkling of something going wrong.
Then he unfolded the deck of papers that formed the letter…  and found the heading at the top.
It wasn’t a letter.  It was…  It was…

It was…  a report on Professor Snape’s class, written by the brand-new Head Student Instructor for Potions, or ‘HSI-PO’ for short.  That was a Slytherin student, if he recalled correctly, but he couldn’t remember the name beyond that it was one of the funny-haired students.
He paused to read the report.  There was obviously a reason it had been mailed to him.

When Dumbledore finally finished the report, a shiver traveled down his spine.
According to the report…  Professor Snape’s class didn’t even have the educational properties of a cookbook.  Apparently, Professor Snape had recited a simple recipe at the class, written the recipe up on the blackboard…  and told them to brew it while he prowled around, bullying the Gryffindors for the smallest of mistakes and praising even the smallest of successes on the part of the Slytherins.  It had been written by a Slytherin…  but the only word Dumbledore could think of to describe the nine page report as a whole was scathing.  It asserted that Snape was putting basically no effort into teaching anyone anything, and showing so much preferential treatment that it harmed the proper education of even his preferred students.
That might explain why the subject had such historically low grades.
He quietly folded the report back up, tucked it back into its envelope…  then handed it to Professor McGonagall, seated next to him.  “Pass this to Severus, please.”
When he looked down the table five minutes later, it was to see a livid Professor Snape reading the report.

Professor Dumbledore looked up from the paperwork on his desk when he heard a knock on the door.  Why was there always so much for him to do every year?  The clock over the door informed him it was approaching lunch time.
“Enter,” he called.
The door opened…  to admit Professor Snape.  The man didn’t look angry, like he’d done before, but rather a lot calmer and more…  resigned?  Determined?  He wasn’t sure what word fit best.
There was, however, a small stack of pages in his hands- the report from earlier.
The silence held until after Severus stopped in front of his desk.
“So,” he began.  “What did you think?”
Severus looked down at the report and sighed.  “When I first saw it…  I was angry that some young upstart was trying to judge me with what little they might know.  But as I taught my seventh-year Slytherin-Gryffindor class today…”  He trailed off, then sighed again.  “It was on my mind…  and I noticed that yes, written by a young upstart or not, it’s true, even with only six students, so I can’t let myself be mad at them.”
“Especially seeing as how that Head Student Instructor for Potions is a Slytherin,” Dumbledore mused.
Severus winced.  “Well…  Yes.  About that.”  He sighed.  “I…  I wanted to thank you for bringing this to my attention.”  He paused.  “I suppose we’ll have to see what I can do with it, won’t we?  I never claimed to be good at teaching.”
Dumbledore rubbed his chin.  “When I was reading that report, it struck me that redesigning the curriculum to less resemble a cookbook might be a good idea,” he informed him.  “Perhaps if you focused more on the techniques involved?”  He rubbed his chin.  “Hmm, I never was very good at designing curriculum either.”

Hailey,
Not even the first day of school and you’ve already killed someone?  That’s…  horrifying.  Even Lord Voldemort didn’t manage to kill anyone until the end of his fifth year there!
So…  how many people died in the derailment?  Aside from Morning Sun, it sounds like that girl saved lives.
Though even with all that carnage, Dumbledore doesn’t know who you are?  No inkling at all?  If so, that’s doubly impressive- Dumbledore suspected Voldemort since long before he ever reached his fifth year.  But that raises the question- who all knows it was you?
Ginny.

Ginny,
Alright, first off, Alden is still alive, and nobody else was hurt.  Yes, I know that sounds impossible, but that’s the facts.
Nope.  Dumbledore was told that it was a ‘black-haired girl’, but that nobody had any idea what my name was nor which House I was sorted into or what year I am in.  So basically, he knows nothing.  At all.  He also sneezed when Professor McGonagall called ‘Potter, Harry’ after I was sorted into Gryffindor.
As for who knows it was me, I told Bonbon and Hermione.  Bonbon is the Student Instructor Program Management Team Lead, by the way- and she’s also really impressive on her own.  Apparently, she and most of the rest of the colorheads are actually grown adults that got dumped into young bodies when they fell through a mystery portal into our world.  She’s made me the Head Student Instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Hermione the Head Student Instructor for Charms, so we’ll see how well that works.
Alright.  I know you’re curious, so I’ll explain why nobody died when the train derailed.
As it was about to happen, I suddenly realized I could cast two spells with my Royal powers:  the Curse of Survival, and the Blessing of Safety.
The first one simply forces its target to survive whatever trauma they go through.  Alden Avery was in twelve pieces, so everyone assumed he was dead at first sight, but soon realized he was actually still alive…  despite being in twelve pieces.
The second one takes more energy, especially when you cast it on every other soul in the train like I did.  It causes danger to simply avoid its target, and when it can’t, it protects said target from harm.  As such, lots of students got tossed around when the car slammed into the cliffside at somewhere around mach four, but nobody was even bruised.  No pets were bruised either, even when luggage went flying!
The parts of the train that didn’t go supersonic, such as every other car of the train, experienced only minimal forces, so the total lack of injuries actually made sense for them.  I heard a couple of cars got close to falling off the cliff- but with so many blessings of safety aboard, that really wasn’t a possibility to begin with.
Oh, and I should probably mention.  Aside from Bonbon and Hermione, there’s four people that saw it happen:
Head Girl Aurora Lewis, who later came to my compartment to talk about it all and confirmed they’re helping me keep the whole Royal thing secret.  She seemed really afraid of me for some reason.
Seventh-year Ravenclaw Prefect Alverta Nettle, who seemed to be Aurora’s friend.
A fourth-year Slytherin colorhead named Flurry Heart, who drove her fist into Alden’s gut as I walked away, before she realized he was still alive.  She’s very protective of the weak, and happy to help me keep my secret as well.  She’s even got a secret of her own- she’s an actual royal princess of a country called the Crystal Empire!  Yes, she gave me her permission to share that with friends, so long as they don’t repeat it.  She doesn’t want it to become common knowledge.
Aaaand the only one that didn’t see me stop Hermione, a sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect named Veronica Rosewood.  She went with Dumbledore to explain what happened to Madam Pomfrey, but when we caught up to her at Hogwarts, she said she was also happy to keep the secret.
Hailey.

Madam Pomfrey paused, completely immobile, for a second after she opened the door to the Hospital Wing in response to a knock.
“Hi,” the black-haired girl outside greeted.  A girl that almost perfectly matched Veronica’s description of the Royal that had slapped and thrown Alden.
And of course, a girl on whom she sensed her own blessing, meaning that even though she couldn’t read the girl’s nameplate, House patch, or badge, all definitely there but covered by her hair, she knew who it was.
This was Harry Potter…  though that probably wasn’t the name she went by.
“Hello,” she answered.
“You just recognized me,” the girl observed, tilting her head curiously.
“Ah- Yes,” she answered.  “From some eleven years ago or so.”
“And from Veronica’s description of the Royal that slapped Alden, right?” Hailey asked.  “She said she gave you a much more detailed description than she gave Dumbledore.”
There was a pause.
“Well…  Yes,” she admitted, holding the door open for her.  “Did you need something?”
“I just figured I’d check up on Alden, see what kind of state he’s in,” she smiled, accepting the offer and entering the infirmary.  “Call me Hailey, by the way.”
Pomfrey closed the door behind her, and decided to chance it- and find out if she really was the Royal that had slammed Alden.  “Do you know who cast the Curse of Survival on Alden?”
Hailey looked at her, her eyebrows raised.  “You detected that?”  She sounded both surprised and impressed.
She rolled her eyes.  “Of course I detected that,” she answered.  “I’m not the Goddess of Healing for nothing.”
“Goddess…?” Hailey asked curiously, her tone turning the word into a question.
“Yes, Goddess,” she answered.  “I’ve reincarnated many times over the ages, but I’ve always been the Goddess of Healing- and as such, gravitated towards medical professions.”  She paused.  “You don’t happen to be a goddess yourself, do you?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m not a goddess,” Hailey answered, then rubbed her chin.  “Though if I am, it would certainly explain the power and diversity of my powers.”
She raised an eyebrow.  “You’re not a reincarnation?” she asked.
“No, I’m not?”
“Huh,” she muttered, rubbing her chin as well.  “Back when you were a baby, after Voldemort…  died, you were taken here, to me, for a day,” she informed her.  “Back then, I noticed that you have a divine presence as well…  though it’s far better masked than mine- to the point that it could only be detected through direct contact.  That kind of thing really only happens with the most ancient of Gods or Goddesses…  yet if you’re a newborn…”
“Well, just because I can’t remember any past lives doesn’t really mean I never had any,” Hailey mused.  “It’s possible that I had one and just went through something that erased my memories, right?”
It was Madam Pomfrey’s turn to rub her chin.  “I…  I suppose,” she muttered.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of one, though.”  She paused.  “But deity or not, deific states are top secret to mortals- if you think the attention a Royal gets is a lot, you’ve never seen what happens when a goddess is exposed.”
“Got it,” Hailey nodded.  “My lips are sealed.”  She paused.  “So how’s Alden doing?”
“He’s doing well enough,” Madam Pomfrey informed her, leading her over.  “I’ve been keeping my divine healing powers to a minimum, so there are some things he’s never going to recover- and the way I hear it, he deserves it.”
Hailey rubbed her chin.  “That is what Aurora said,” she mused.  “I didn’t mean to throw him so hard, since it was only for convincing Hermione to jump off the train, but-!”
“He did What!?” she barked.
Hailey looked.  “He convinced Hermione to jump off the back of the train,” she informed her.  “I stopped her, so nobody was hurt, but, um…”  She paused, looking at Alden.  “I was mad.”
“And rightfully so,” she said, turning to look at Alden from a different angle, now that she knew what he’d done.  “If he’s trying to kill people-!”  She froze, gave herself a shake, and took a deep breath.  “Sorry.  As the Goddess of Healing, I tend to overreact to malicious violence.”
Hailey laughed.  “Yeah, I was mad, so I had trouble pulling my punches,” she informed her.  “Made the Curse of Survival very important, didn’t it?”
“And the Blessings of Safety on the rest of the school,” she observed.
“Well yes, and those,” Hailey agreed, “though they will have fallen off a couple days ago by now.”  She scanned the bed.  “Still six pieces, huh?  The curse isn’t getting in the way, is it?”
“Oh, no, it’s not,” she chuckled.  “The Curse of Survival is a sign of divine displeasure, so I’ve been taking my time putting him back together, completely aside from avoiding overusing divine healing power- even now, he’s still well beyond the help of wizards, even with the Curse to back it up.”  She paused.  “And I’ll admit I’ve been taking advantage of the strength of your Curse to perform some medical experiments on him.”
Hailey laughed.  “Yeah, why not.  That curse isn’t set to fall off for a year.”  She smiled up at her.  “And of course, as the Head Student Instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, I’m going to be running up here every week to see when he’s ready to resume his studies- appearances, you know- so when can I expect to start hauling homework scrolls?”
“I’m thinking about bringing him back to consciousness around Christmas, then up to passable function- where he can actually start writing again- sometime in March or April, then use May and the beginning of June to teach him how to walk again.”
“He’s not going to be doing that again in a hurry,” Hailey observed.
“No, he’s not,” Madam Pomfrey agreed.  “His wand was irreparable, nevermind that your initial slap didn’t just remove his right hand but his wrist as well- which means that’s beyond the help of wizarding magic, and I’ve already decided to leave it.  He’s never going to have two hands again- and I’m still debating whether or not I want to restore all the fingers of his other hand.”
Hailey laughed.  “I’m all for making an example, but let’s not be too unreasonable.”
She laughed as well.  “Well, but he got slapped by a Royal- as such, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to still be alive.  As far as he needs to know, he only survived through good luck and the diligent efforts of not just the same girls he was bullying but all the medical professionals around him, and he’s lucky to be alive at all.”
Hailey shrugged.  “He really is.  Had the Curse of Survival not come to mind three seconds before I threw him at the wall, the train probably wouldn’t have been derailed, but instead, they’d still be picking up his remains.”
She chuckled softly.  “Yes, I don’t doubt.”

Hailey,
I’m not sure what to say to that, really.  I’m sorry I thought you’d killed him, I didn’t know about…  that random power that I probably should have expected after you organized my Vault in an instant.
But anyways, that all sounds good.  You’ve already got friends in high places, and reached a high place yourself, even.  And everyone’s helping you keep it under wraps- that’s going to be very important, you don’t want it to get out!
Aurora is probably scared because she doesn’t know who you are, only what you are- and Royals are terrifying, as a rule.  As a matter of fact, I probably would have been far more afraid of you if I had actually recognized you before Mom caught up to us- but I didn’t, so it never crossed my mind that you might be powerful or something.  And by the time I did realize who you were…  I already knew who you were, so I wasn’t afraid.
That sounds SO weird when I say it like that.  I knew about you from my past life- well, so to speak.  It was actually between my lives, when I was roaming the world as a phantom, when I found out you were actually a girl…  and that you’re a Royal.  But I hadn’t actually connected you to that memory until we ran into Mom, and that was long enough for me to get to know you- on some level, at least- as a person, which made it hard to be afraid.
On the front of Alden, he’s probably rotten to the core.  His parents definitely were in my past life- both of them were hardcore death eaters.  That’s what Voldemort’s followers were called, by the way.
And…  on a more personal note, Mom recognized Hedwig today.  I told her we’re pen pals, so she’s talking about buying me an owl, even though she has to know we can’t afford one- on the family finances, at least.  Is having no friends really THAT bad?
Ginny.

Ginny,
I technically organized your Vault in no time at all; time wasn’t progressing when I did that.
Also, I visited Alden in the Hospital Wing yesterday.  He’s still out cold, but now he’s in only six pieces now- Madam Pomfrey does good work.  Unfortunately, he can’t resume his studies yet.
On the Royals-Are-Scary front…  I suppose it makes sense.  Finding out you were a Royal, or even seeing your powers in action, didn’t bother me at all- but that might be because I’m a Royal too, mightn’t it?
And if you’re going to say it like that…  You have to know it makes me curious about your past life.
But to answer your question…  having no friends really isn’t bad at all, in my experience; I never had any friends until I met you, and was never bothered by it.  On the other hand, we both know I’m no ordinary girl, ‘nobody likes you’ was the main weapon Alden used against Hermione… and his attack was effective precisely because she had no friends.  Hermione seems to be an ordinary girl, so far at least- so maybe that’s what your mom is worried about?  Though it’s probably a misplaced worry, since you’re also not an ordinary girl, isn’t it?
By the way, my first flying lesson is coming up this afternoon.  I’m looking forward to it, though I imagine you probably already know full well how to fly, right?
Hailey.

Draco Malfoy suppressed a shudder as he reached the smooth, flat lawn that the flying lessons would be taking place on, and eyed the Slytherin column.  Flying lessons were taught to just twenty students at a time, ten from each house- and not only had Gryffindor been paired with Slytherin, but their first class seemed to be heavily biased towards the British students rather than the colorheads.
He, Hailey, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and a colorhead rather appropriately named Lone Ranger formed the Gryffindor line.
Theodore Nott, flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, formed the core of the Slytherin line- which was otherwise exclusively formed of British girls, which happened to include Pansy Parkinson…  with whom he had a marriage contract.  She and all three boys were glaring at him as if he’d betrayed them somehow- a fairly common sight, ever since the sorting.
He remembered it as clearly as if it had been just a few minutes ago.  He had set that Hat over his head…  then sat down.  Finally, a murmuring had entered his ear…  from the Hat.
“Hmm, interesting, interesting.  Most Malfoys go to Slytherin, but you wouldn’t fit in there, would you?  So now, where shall I put you?”
Not Hufflepuff, he’d thought desperately, without even considering the implications of not being in Slytherin.  Hufflepuff was the one house that would cost him his place in the Malfoy Manor.
“Not Hufflepuff, eh?” the Hat had mused.  “I wasn’t even considering that, but they’re not as bad as you think.  I think…  Yes.  GRYFFINDOR!”
It had shouted the final word to the whole hall.  He could hear the confusion in the room, as people started asking their friends if they’d heard that right- but when he’d shed the Hat and headed to the Gryffindor table, a girl with bushy brown hair and a cheerful smile had grabbed him and guided him to sit next to her.  The girl- Hermione Granger, according to her nameplate- had then basically ignored the rest of the Sorting, up until one Hailey Potter had been sorted; Hailey had promptly joined them on Hermione’s other side and greeted them both by name.
Hailey was the girl he’d first met in Madam Malkin’s, then again on the train.  The girl that had refused to give him her name.
He’d then been practically inducted into the two girls’ friendship…  and over the week since, had found himself becoming a close friend to both of the two girls.
And also a Student Instructor for Potions.  That had been a shocker- not unlike when he’d found out that Hailey was the Head Student Instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, or that Hermione was the Head Student Instructor for Charms.  Or when he’d found out they had another friend, a Slytherin colorhead named Bonbon…  who was the Head Student Instructor for Potions, and simultaneously the Student Instructor Program Management Team Lead.
But now…  they were on the grounds.  Hailey’s HSI badge was, as usual, covered by her hair.  Draco’s Student Instructor badge was exposed for all the Slytherins to see- not a single one of which were Student Instructors.
He avoided Pansy’s gaze.  He knew what she was thinking, and he didn’t like it at all.
And people thought the Malfoys were at the top of the food chain.
They weren’t.  It was…  customary for any new Malfoy born to have a partner in marriage contracted by their first birthday.  It probably helped to keep the bloodline pure, but it definitely wouldn’t help with anything like his happiness.
Pansy didn’t seem to think of it that way.  He’d met her only twice before getting sorted into Gryffindor, one of them on the train- and he didn’t like her at all.  She, on the other hand, had evidently been being groomed to be his wife for years.
And of course…  in exchange for her parents’ cooperation with the marriage contract, the Malfoys had made a few promises to the Parkinsons that Draco absolutely detested.  Unfortunately, they would last as long as the contract did- and the contract was set in stone until both he and Pansy turned fifty, at which point they would both have to agree to break it to be able to do so.
In short…  it was a future he dreaded.
He dreaded it so much that the boggart he’d found in his wardrobe when he arrived had turned into her, advancing on him with a ring!  Fortunately, the screaming- as it shifted focus to the other first-years- had quickly drawn the Prefects’ attention, and they had been quick to take care of it.
“What are you waiting for?” Madam Hooch’s voice cut in suddenly.  “Come stand by a broomstick!”

Draco watched silently as Neville Longbottom was led back up to the castle by Madam Hooch.
He’d seen it coming.  Neville was practically famous through the Gryffindor House for his forgetfulness, despite having only been at the school for a total of one week.  Throughout the first part of the lesson, wherein Madam Hooch had taught them how to lift their brooms with a command- he had never known anyone to do it that way, so he really wondered why that was still a part of the curriculum- and ride them properly, Neville had been very nervous and jumpy.
So, when it had come time for them to take their maiden flight two feet into the air…  Neville had accidentally taken off two seconds early, and promptly forgotten how to descend…  so he’d shot into the air like a homesick meteor, panicked, and fallen from his broom.  Madam Hooch had been fast enough with her wand to keep him from suffering any major injuries, but he’d still managed to break his wrist when he landed from what would have otherwise been a lethal fall.
The broom he’d been riding had continued to fly up into the sky, then started drifting- and had been so high it was hard to see when it had finally recognized that it was riderless, cancelled its flight magic, and dropped to the ground as well.
As he turned back to the rest of the class, Draco spotted a glint in the grass where Neville had landed, and bent down to look more closely.
“What’s that?” Ronald Weasley, frequently known as Ron, asked.
He didn’t answer for a second, inspecting it before he picked it up.
It was a small glass ball, just about the right size for him to wrap his hand around, with a lot of what looked like smoke inside of it.
“His Remembrall,” Draco informed Ron, purposely ignoring the death glares of the Slytherins.  At breakfast that morning, Neville had proudly demonstrated how it would turn red when held firmly by someone that had forgotten something- a feature that was probably supremely useless for someone like Neville, who routinely forgot the password to get back into Gryffindor Tower.  It didn’t offer any clues as to what was forgotten.
As he walked back to the Gryffindor lines, deliberately ignoring the glares of the Slytherins, he tightened his grip on it…  but it stayed white.  He allowed himself a small smile and pocketed it to return to the forgetful boy later.

“Come in,” Professor Dumbledore called, looking up from his desk.  It was Friday evening again- and that morning, he’d gotten another report from the HSI-PO.  It had taken a much kinder tone…  but had rather bluntly concluded that while Professor Snape was showing a huge increase in teaching effort, the teaching effectiveness of his classes hadn’t improved much at all.
It had, however, gone on to suggest some possible improvements, ‘based on what our instructors are finding most effective’...  and he had passed the report to Severus at the breakfast table once again.
True to his expectations, it was Severus Snape that walked in.
He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
Snape closed the door behind him.  “Well,” he began, before looking down at the papers in his hand and letting out a sigh.
“A lot less scathing this time, isn’t it?” Dumbledore asked lightly.
“It is,” Snape agreed.  “And again, when I look for myself…  I can see it.”  He sighed.  “Though this time, I don’t know how to improve.  Her suggestions…”  He sighed again.  “She suggested reworking the curriculum to focus more on the ingredients and techniques, and use the brewing of potions that use those techniques as tests, but…”
Dumbledore sighed as well.  “I never was very good at curriculum design either,” he informed Snape.  “Perhaps that HSI can offer some pointers?  She seems to be trying to leave the course as a whole in your hands with these reports.”
“Ahh,” he muttered, rubbing his chin.  “I’ll have to consider that.  Who was this HSI again?”
“Bonbon,” he answered calmly.  “She’s also the Student Instructor Program Management Team Lead.”

Hailey,
Time…  wasn’t progressing?  You mean you didn’t teleport them, and instead STOPPED TIME?
I love how you’re more concerned about Alden’s ability to study than his physical well-being.  Frankly, I think I am too.
Yes…  Considering the limit to my powers, and the power you’ve already demonstrated…  I’d say it’d be pretty difficult to be afraid of a Royal that’s at least an order of magnitude weaker than you.
Oh, I told Mom we’re friends and I think you’re right.  She went on for a few minutes about how worried she had been…  and I caught her singing twice today already, so she’s obviously in a very good mood from it.  Yet another case of me understanding nothing because I was never a parent…  though I still think she dotes on me a little too much.  Nevermind that yes, it definitely is a misplaced worry, considering my past.  I’ve been happy sitting here in my room and exercising my abilities as a first-class reincarnated spellsmith, both wanded and wandless- and I don’t think I’d like just playing with someone, be they my age- in this life- or not.
That said, I do miss chess with Ron.  I was quite a champion in my past life, yet he’s grown to the point where he wins three out of every four matches against me- I think he has a talent for it.  Do you think you could challenge him to a couple games for me?  I’m curious how you’ll fare against him.
Yes, you could say I already know how to fly.  That said, I never flew much on a broom…  most of the flying I did was broomless via wandless magic.  And I also just found out that my Royal powers include flight, so that might be fun to play with at some point.
Ginny.
P.S. On the topic of Mom and the owl thing, it’s sounding more and more like Mom and Dad are planning to go hungry if they need to to get me an owl.  I’ve told them I don’t want or need an owl, but I don’t think they heard me- so I’ve been debating revealing my last on-hand galleon and claiming it came from you as a sign of our friendship or something, so they don’t bankrupt the family for my sake.  What do you think?
Ginny.

“Hey, Ron?  Ronald Weasley?”
Ron looked up from his Charms homework.  “What?” he barked.  It was Monday evening, and Fred and George had spent the afternoon pranking him- nevermind that he was struggling with this assignment.  Been struggling all weekend, actually- it was due Tuesday morning, but the book wasn’t very helpful at all!  As a result, he was in a very bad mood.
The girl approaching him, and who had spoken, was about his own age, and had her long, wavy black hair draped down her chest, hiding her nameplate and House patch entirely from view.  It made her look very nice indeed.
“Ginny has asked me to challenge you to a game of chess,” the girl informed him, a smile playing on her lips.
“Ginny?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Then- then you’re that girl she met, uh, Hailey?”  It took him a moment to remember the name.
“Yep, that’s me,” Hailey answered cheerfully.  “You game?”
He sighed, looking back down at his homework.  “I wish,” he grumbled.
She looked down at his homework.  “You need help?” she offered.
He tilted his head, contemplating her offer.  On the one hand, that had been the guise that Fred and George’s pranks had been under- on the other, her offer felt a lot more…  genuine than theirs had.  “Yeah,” he muttered, and sighed.  “The book isn’t helping.”
“That’d be because it isn’t written very well,” Hailey answered shortly, as she sat next to him and peered at it.  “Hmm…  That isn’t Charms by any chance, is it?”
“It is,” he muttered.  “I just…  don’t understand it.”  He looked at his book.
“Ahh,” Hailey muttered, before turning to look back in the direction she’d come.  “Hermione?” she called.
Ron looked.
A girl with bushy brown hair and a badge gleaming on her chest looked up.
Hailey nodded her head towards Ron, and the girl smiled, standing up to come over to them.
“So what’s the problem?” she asked.  Her tone was serious, but there was a smile on her face as well.
“Uh…” he muttered, looking back down at his homework.
“Oh, that,” Hermione observed, sweeping quickly around to sit on his other side.  “Lotsa people had trouble with that.”
As she moved, he noticed that her badge had the code ‘HSI-CH’ printed large in the middle, with some text he couldn’t read above it and the word ‘Charms’ underneath.  It reminded him of his instructors- though their badges both proclaimed the code ‘SI-CH’, with ‘Charms’ underneath and ‘Student Instructor’ above.  He didn’t know what the H stood for- though he was fairly sure the rest of the code meant she knew what she was talking about.

Ginny,
No, I didn’t stop time, I only stopped my progression through it…  though I suppose that had the same effect, didn’t it?  And then I did actually teleport them- one at a time.  Took quite a while, but with my progression through time halted, it would have seemed to be an instant to you.  And to the clock.
Just played five games with Ron, after Hermione helped him with his Charms homework with a little impromptu lesson.  He won all five, though the last one was close- and when Hermione challenged him to a game, he flattened her.  She said it was probably because it was her first time ever playing the game, and because she kept getting distracted by the talking chessmen.  Wizards really do like to enchant everything in sight, don’t they?
On the owl front, I’m fine with that…  though it probably won’t increase the frequency of our letters, will it?  Only give us a backup- other than Philomena- for whenever Hedwig gets tired…  if she does.  She says she’s been having fun finding good hunting or sleeping spots along the way.
Speaking of Philomena, I found something possibly important just last night.  Apparently, the Wizengamot passed a new law, the Phoenix Bound Act of 2012, in…  you guessed it, 2012, about nine years ago now.  That law automatically gives phoenix-bound seats in the Wizengamot, supposedly as an incentive to get them to settle in Britain.  So of course Philomena has been staying hidden for me, but we’ve also had some fun times together- like just today, when I sat in on one of the other Student Instructors’ DADA class, she was with me under the invisibility cloak.
Well…  I say invisibility cloak, but there really wasn’t any involved.  I’m not sure how, but I seem to be able to step out of sync with reality- so nobody can see, hear, or even touch me, but I can see, hear, and touch them just fine.  Or walk straight through them, if I want to.  It’s…  weird.  I can even look past solid walls as if they weren’t there!
Hailey.
P.S. Hermione’s birthday is this coming Sunday, on the nineteenth.  I haven’t revealed Philomena to her yet, but it should be fine, if you want to meet her or something.

Professor Severus Snape let out a sharp, irritated sigh.  Where was this Bonbon girl?  He’d been looking for four days, with periods of classes and failed attempts to come up with new, better lesson plans interspersed in between.  Infuriatingly, the only place he knew she would be was in his next first-year class with Gryffindors and Slytherins in it on Thursday- where she would be judging him again!
He continued down the passage.  It was Tuesday afternoon- where was that girl?
A girl rounded the corner ahead of him, walking back towards him.  Her hair was a bright, two-tone silver, neatly braided and draped down her chest next to her badge.
Her badge…  which proclaimed the code ‘LSI-1-PO’, even though the House Patch opposite it marked her as a Ravenclaw.  As they drew closer, he came to his decision.  Ostensibly, all the Student Instructors worked under and reported to the Head Student Instructor…  though he wasn’t sure what the L or number stood for.
“Miss…”  He spotted her nameplate.  “Silverspoon?” he finished.
The girl looked up.  “Yes, Professor?” she asked.
“Where might Bonbon be?” he asked her, his eyes scanning her badge.  The smaller text above and below the code declared her to be the Lead Student Instructor for Potions for First-Year Ravenclaws.
So that’s what they meant.
“A very good question,” the girl answered.  “She moves around a lot, so you could scour the Castle for days and never find her.”  She shrugged.  “Whenever I need her, it’s a lot easier to just find Hailey- she’s in Gryffindor- and ask her.  Most of the time, Hailey knows exactly where Bonbon is- and the rest of the time, it takes her about five minutes to find her.”
He paused.  “And…  where is this Hailey?”
She shrugged.  “No idea.  She’s good at turning up when I need her, though.”  She blinked, looking past Snape.  “Speak of the devil.  Hello, Hailey!”
Snape turned to look.
A cheerful first-year girl was approaching them, her wavy black hair draped over her chest such that her nameplate and House patch- and badge, if she was wearing one- were completely covered.  “Hello to you too, Silverspoon,” she answered jovially.  “How’ve things been going?”
“Pretty well I think,” Silverspoon informed her.  “How about you?”
“Been helping people all day,” she answered, then shrugged.  “It’s still only the second week, though, so that’s to be expected.”  She paused, glancing between Silverspoon and Snape.  “Did you need me for something?”
“Yes, actually,” Silverspoon informed her.  “Professor Snape here was looking for Bonbon.”
“Ahh,” Hailey nodded, and looked up at Snape.  “Bonbon’s just leaving the Slytherin common room right now; she’s going to be sitting in on a class this evening.  She’ll have a few minutes if you want to talk to her before that class, or shall I ask her to meet you in your office afterwards?”
“I was just there,” Snape informed her.
“She was at lunch a bit late,” Hailey answered immediately.
He sighed.  “Alright.  Now would be good.”
Hailey bowed lightly.  “Right this way, then.  Have a good day, Silverspoon!”

“Hi Bonbon!”
Professor Snape was having trouble believing how quickly Hailey had found Bonbon…  or how easily she’d done it.  She’d led him to what seemed like a random passage halfway to the Slytherin common room, then pulled open a tapestry to reveal a hidden passage…  and greeted Bonbon, who had been seconds from emerging from the same passage.  How had the girl known exactly where she was?
That reminded him.  Helga had told him and Rowena that the girl was almost certainly a deity, and most likely an ancient deity far older than any of them that had stayed hidden from them for some reason and used a memory-loss-inducing reincarnation technique.  Unfortunately, neither Helga nor Rowena- who had also glimpsed the girl’s divine nature during the Sorting Ceremony- had any idea what the girl’s aspect might be.
So was she the Goddess of Finding Things?  Of Convenience?  Knowledge?
He didn’t know.
“Good afternoon, Hailey,” Bonbon answered, nodding gently as she emerged into the main passage.
“Professor Snape here was looking for you,” Hailey informed her, holding her hand out to Snape.
“Thank you,” Bonbon told her, before cracking a small grin.  “We really need offices, don’t we?”
“And office hours,” Hailey agreed cheerfully.
Bonbon chuckled softly, and turned to Snape.  “So what can I help you with, Professor?”
He paused.  Now that he’d found her, he wasn’t sure how to phrase the request.
“I’m going to guess that you need help reorganizing the Potions curriculum,” Hailey supplied suddenly.
He nodded stiffly.  How had she guessed?  Or was she simply a Goddess of Knowledge?
“Ahh,” Bonbon nodded.  “That’s…  probably going to take a while, isn’t it?”  She paused.  “We’ve been doing a lot of experimentation with our classes, and I’m about to sit in on one of the ones with the best grades, taught by Miss Silverspoon of Ravenclaw and Mr. Malfoy of Gryffindor.  Would you like to join me?”
He raised an eyebrow.  “Sit in on?”
She nodded.  “We periodically review each of the classes held by the other students to ensure that the same standard of quality is maintained and all students, from our Head Student Instructors all the way down to the ones that have the most trouble, receive an equal education.  We’ve designed the entire Program around that goal, actually, and that’s just one of the tools we use to do so.”  She paused.  “We also use Invisibility Cloaks when sitting in on classes, so the Instructors in question don’t know when we’re doing it until after the fact- and we see what their class is normally like, rather than what it’s like when they’re overly nervous or putting on a show.”
“You can use mine if you want,” Hailey offered, removing a glistening silver cloak from her bag- an Invisibility Cloak.
Bonbon raised an eyebrow at her.  “But you’ve got to sit in on a class today too, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she shrugged.  “But still, I won’t be needing the cloak.”
Bonbon gazed at her for a couple seconds, then sighed.  “Whatever,” she muttered, and turned back to Snape.  “Alternatively, I could come meet you in your office this evening, after all of the classes I’m attending or sitting in on today.”
He raised an eyebrow.  “Aren’t you an Instructor?”
She nodded.  “I teach on Friday afternoons,” she informed him.  “We’ve structured our class schedules and our rigorous training…  regimens to ensure that the quality of our Instructors is consistent from the top to the bottom, and also that the material is taught to all students in a timely manner, even though we have multiple classes of Student Instructors teaching Student Instructors to make up the necessary numbers of Instructors.”
“Do you think the Instructor Course might help?” Hailey asked, her head tilting curiously.
Bonbon paused, looking at her…  then tilted her head as well.  “You know…”  She paused again.  “That’s a good point.  Our Instructor training focuses not only on the study skills to be able to pass the material on in as little as twenty hours after receiving it in class, but also the skills necessary to tailor the lessons and even the curriculum to the specific class or, in some cases, even specific students.  My expectation is that Miss Silverspoon and Mr. Malfoy have been particularly successful in that effort.”
“Hmm,” Snape muttered noncommittally.  “Maybe.  But I’ll take that sit-in offer.”
Then Hailey handed him her Invisibility Cloak- it was an ordinary one, and would break down and become opaque after a couple of years- and he joined Bonbon as she led him to the classroom, ignoring the fire-haired Ravenclaw first-year jogging past them towards Hailey.
He’d never been any good at teaching, even in his past lives, and even with both Rowena and Helga trying to help him.  As such, he rather doubted they could do anything- but not only had the girl described a miracle as if it was ordinary, but Hailey was involved- so who knew, he might actually learn something!

“Well,” Bonbon muttered, shuffling her papers.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at her.  They were five minutes into her Instructor Class on Wednesday morning, which he’d consented- and, secretly, been eager- to attend, and it felt like the girl was about to pass judgement on him.
True to his expectations, she passed her judgement a couple seconds later.  “I think I can say that you don’t have the qualities and traits we’ve been looking for in our Instructors,” she informed him.  “However, that’s something I can say about close to ninety percent of our Instructors- and with your permission, Professor, I know exactly how to turn you into the finest Professor this school has ever seen.”
He raised his other eyebrow.  “The finest?” he asked.
She shrugged.  “You’ve got one massive advantage that none of our other instructors do:  You actually know the material!”  She chuckled.  “And you saw last night what Silverspoon and Malfoy could do with a recipe and some research.  Just a little bit of training and I expect you’ll be making that class look like children playing with blocks.”
He laughed.  It had been a long time since he had last laughed, but now was as good a time as any.

“Ahh, Hailey!”  Madam Pomfrey bowed as she let the named girl in.
“Good evening, Madam Pomfrey,” Hailey answered, bowing as well as she entered the Infirmary.
Pomfrey closed the door with a snap.  “So what can I do for you?” she asked.  “You haven’t managed to break a leg, have you?”
Hailey laughed.  “No, not yet.  I’m sure it’ll happen at some point, though, and I don’t yet know if my powers include self-healing or not.”  She shrugged.  “I thought I’d check up on Alden, see how he’s doing.”
“He’s in five pieces now,” Pomfrey answered cheerfully.  “I had a few St. Mungo’s representatives in here earlier today, and they said there was no point trying to transfer him- they wouldn’t be able to do any better than I am.”
“Rather predictably,” Hailey observed calmly, “but I rather expect they don’t know that.”
She laughed.  “No, they don’t have a clue.  All they know is that I’m one of the finest healers in the land.”  She paused for a second.  “Come to think of it, Professor McGonagall wanted me to ask you where you found Bonbon.”
Hailey laughed again.  “Oh, I didn’t find her.  She found me.  Why?”
She shrugged.  “Because she did her Instructor Course thing with Professor Snape this morning- and successfully did what all three of the rest of us have failed to do for over a thousand years now:  Teach the God of Secrecy to teach.”
“He did really well in his class this afternoon,” Hailey agreed.  “I expect we’ll start really seeing the fruits of his efforts tomorrow- and I have Bonbon’s promise she’s going to send Professor Dumbledore the report again.”  She shrugged.  “We don’t think there’s going to be any more need for reports to be sent straight to him, merely stored for him to ask for if he wants them, as all the rest of them are right now.”

Hailey,
So how long did it take to move a billion coins one by one?
Only five games, eh?  That’s not very many.  Have you beaten him since?  Has Hermione?
And yes, now that I’m thinking about it, wizards DO seem to like enchanting everything in sight.  From chess pieces to mirrors and pictures to clocks and brooms to even knives and forks, just about everything in my home is enchanted.  Even the car- though most families that own a car don’t enchant it.  Dad’s the only one that’ll do that, he absolutely loves looking at muggle technology.
I do have to agree with him, it is enticing.  I don’t think I would enchant nearly as much of it as he does, though, merely study it.  It’s difficult for wizards to do some of the things muggles have made machines to do for them, so I expect there’s a lot to learn- a lot that would be handy even for a wizarding household.  Too bad everything in the shed has already been enchanted into oblivion, and so no longer exhibits its original behaviors.
That story with Philomena kinda makes me wish I could join you like that.  Hmph.
I’ve now told Mom about the galleon.  Took a while to convince her it wasn’t charity, but I managed it.  The plan is to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow to spend it on an owl…  and probably a family shopping trip, as well.  Mom said you, Hermione, and friends would be welcome here for a birthday party- I think she’s thinking of it as an opportunity to let us meet face-to-face again, and maybe for her to meet you properly too.  I know she’s been eager for that.
She might also be trying to get an idea of exactly who your friends are, and therefore who my friends will likely be once I start school.  I’m not entirely sure, but if she wants to come, that’ll be awesome.  Mom talked about breaking out the garden tables if need be- so we should be able to handle somewhere around twenty people overall, including us, Mom, and Dad.  Let me know!
Ginny.

Ginny couldn’t sit still.
She couldn’t concentrate.
She paced back and forth across her room.
The phoenix she’d gotten on Thursday instead of an owl watched her calmly from her desk.
She was…  anxious.
She knew at least part of it was because of the phoenix; as Hailey’s letter had informed her on Wednesday, the phoenix choosing her guaranteed her a Wizengamot seat…  but she didn’t want that.  She’d had enough with the political game as Lord Voldemort, and wanted nothing to do with it now!
Fortunately, nobody knew about the phoenix.
The phoenix she had yet to name.
The rest was because Hailey had probably received her letter on Friday…  and she was probably going to receive Hailey’s response tomorrow, on Sunday…  Hermione’s birthday.  On top of that, there was a chance that Hailey would appear out of nowhere on the same day- possibly right after the letter, or even before it.  And she was so eager to meet Hailey again.
She shivered.  It wasn’t like her to get so eager.  What was it?
No, no.  It probably actually was like her; she had changed a lot since her time as Lord Voldemort, and among the changes had been a bit of a mental regression enforced by her cramming herself into a less mature brain.  As such, it was probably less the part of her that was Lord Voldemort and more the part of her that was a ten-year-old girl named Ginny Weasley that was eager.
And Hailey was, for lack of a better term, her hero.
And Voldemort’s hero, for that matter.
The thought brought a giggle to her lips.
But it wasn’t enough to reduce her anxiety.  She wanted everything to be perfect- but how?  What could she do?
A sudden tingling in her right hand distracted her momentarily, but she brushed it off quickly.
It was only another crystal.
She continued her pacing, ignoring it- and held it in her hand when it finished.
What was she going to do?  She couldn’t just-
She froze.  The crystal felt…  funny, somehow.
She looked at it.
She wasn’t holding a crystal like usual.  Instead, it was a crystal-shaped block of pearlescent white metal.
She stared at it.
As she watched, it seemed to melt back into the blue crystal.
She focused…  and it turned white again.
Then she squashed it with her bare hand, causing it to stretch out into a thin metal rod resembling a magic wand.
It was a hard metal…  yet it bent and flowed when and where she wanted it to.  She turned the metal wand back into crystal with a simple mental command…  then tied it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber.
Even though, when she tested it, it was still a rock-hard crystal…  and she couldn’t tie her desk into knots like that, either.  Was it something about the material?
Thoroughly distracted, she fetched several more crystals from her closet and sat down at her desk.  The crystals flowed together into a single lump, then formed a cutting board, a bowl, a hammer, whatever she wanted them to.  It was easiest when she was touching it…  but it didn’t seem to actually require that, merely for her to be close.  The further she was, the harder it was.
Then she got a sudden idea.  The metal and crystal were behaving like water in her hands- the crystal in particular actually seemed to be able to become a real liquid, which splashed when she put her hand in it, rather than just flowing like one.  So how would it behave with a normal liquid?
She left the bowl of liquid crystal on her desk and dashed downstairs for a cup of water.
Her mother was in the garden, and her father working overtime at the Ministry on some problem or another; he’d told them that morning he expected to get it over with by evening, so he should be able to participate in any Sunday birthday parties.
As such, she didn’t run into anyone on her way back to her room, her robes billowing behind her.
She set the glass on her desk, then dipped her hand into the liquid crystal.  It solidified exactly when and where she wanted it, so she drew a completely dry crystal rod from the bowl, about as big around as the tip of her smallest finger and about two inches long.
She dipped it in the water.
Nothing happened.
She took a deep breath…  and liquefied it in the water.
The liquid crystal seemed to be denser than water, as it flowed down to the bottom and pooled there.
Then, right when she was getting disappointed at the lack of reaction…  it began to change.  It shimmered and shivered, then the water started to bubble as the top of the crystal started forming into something that looked a bit like spaghetti.
She watched it eagerly as it changed.
It took it close to half an hour- and when it was all done, most of the glass was occupied by a tangle of what looked like thread.  There was still a little bit of water in the glass, but most of it seemed to have been absorbed- and the thread was floating on the surface.
She reached in, pinched the thread…  and pulled it out.
The water fell right off of it, leaving it soft and dry to the touch, despite being tangled in all sorts of knots…  with no discernible end, just loops.
She tested its flexibility…  Yes, it seemed to be just like ordinary thread.  When she tugged on it, she found that it was at least a little bit stretchy- even as far as a single thread.  She didn’t need to make it move itself, or anything.
So she made it move itself.  The thread rippled, split, combined, and wound itself into a neat ball in her hand- then finally rippled again, this time forming into fabric.  It was a gentle, baby blue, and extremely soft to the touch.  It resembled silk- that expensive material nobles liked to make their clothes out of- but was also stretchy…  and no matter how hard she pulled, even with gloves made from the white metal to protect her hands or even a lever from the same, she couldn’t get even a single strand of the thread to tear.
So it was like silk…  but simultaneously much stronger than silk.  And stretchier.
She looked down at her clothes, then held the new fabric up to the light.
Hmm…  it was translucent.  That could be an issue if she wanted to make clothes from it.
She looked sideways at the bowl, then at the nearly-empty glass of water again…  then grinned.
She dropped the fabric on her desk, dashed to her closet, and melted her entire remaining stock of crystals into a large metal basin, which she then carried to the bathroom to fill with water from the bathtub.
Once it was full, and she turned off the water, she molded a lid out of the rim and closed it into a tank before carrying it back to her room…  via a levitation charm, since it was far too heavy for her to lift otherwise.
She set it next to her desk, drew a small rod of crystal from the bowl, turned it into the white metal…  and dropped it into the water, willing it to react and form into fabric.
It was as the water bubbled that it crossed her mind that she’d made the container of the same metal.  She hoped she wasn’t about to have to deal with a puddle.
But before long, the vicious bubbling stopped, and a white fabric floated to the surface.  When she pulled it out, it easily shed the water, becoming soft and dry.  It seemed…
Yes.  It seemed almost like the cotton her robes were made from.  When she held it up to the light, it was completely opaque.
She sandwiched it in the silk, which bonded effortlessly to its surface- and ended up with a baby blue silken fabric that was just as opaque as her existing robes.
So she dumped it, along with some more crystal and metal, into the basin to combine together into enough of that fabric to make a complete outfit out of.  While it boiled, she took a small cube of crystal from the bowl and placed it on the desk before her.  If she could make it into that white metal with a thought…  was there something else?
She prodded it with a finger, willing it to become something new.  The two-inch cube spurned her efforts.
She sighed.  So much for discovering a strange new material capable of warping reality.
But could she make gold out of it?
The cube suddenly shrank to a fraction of its original size as it formed into what looked like polished gold.
She stared at it…  then squashed it with her thumb, causing it to form into a single golden galleon.
When she picked it up, though, it was definitely heavier than a real galleon.
She looked sideways at the basin, which had just finished boiling; a mass of blue fabric was now floating at the top.
She bit the coin in half- making it split itself neatly, her teeth weren’t nearly strong enough- and spat that half into the basin, dropping the other half-coin back on the table before pulling the fabric out of the once-again-bubbling basin.
It seemed like the material seemed to have an idea for what she wanted; it wasn’t just a mass of fabric, as she’d expected; rather, it had already formed itself into a full outfit.  Robe, shirt, skirt- there were even undergarments.  They all shed the water as she pulled them out, making them completely dry.
Giggling madly, she locked the door, stripped her clothes off, and put it on.
It was almost unbelievably light, fluffy, and comfortable.
She unlocked her door again and dashed for the bathroom, before looking at herself in the mirror- using a wandless flight spell to get a full body view from the vanity mirror.
It looked…  elegant.  There was nothing else to it- she’d just made herself a set of dress robes.
She giggled madly as she returned to her room, then found that the basin had finished boiling again.
Without taking off her fancy new robes, she reached all the way to the bottom of the basin to extract the fabric that had formed of the golden metal.  Her sleeve shed water once again as she pulled it out- and the new, shimmering golden fabric shed water as well.  It felt a lot tougher than any fabric she knew, and was also fairly stiff- almost like a hardened fabric.  Somehow, she knew that it would make great armor.
So she unraveled the fabric back into thread, wound it into a ball, and returned to the bathroom mirror with it and the surviving half-coin.  She floated into the air again, then gave her new robes a makeover, redesigning them, adding accents…
She giggled at the tickling sensation of the thread, fabric, and metal sliding across her skin and through her hair all on their own.
Finally, she was done.  Her new robe wouldn’t have looked out of place as a princess’s birthday outfit- it made her look like she was a very rich noble’s daughter getting ready for a party.  Her vivid red hair, held back by a crystal headband and decorated with gold lotus flowers just like the one glowing on the back of her hand, helped with that appearance.
She giggled some more as she returned to her room and changed back into her normal robes.  She knew what she was going to wear to Hermione’s birthday party, if it was going to happen at her house.
She shivered with excitement.  Her parents would be surprised.
Her smile faded.  Right, her parents…  how was she going to explain it away?
Now was the time to decide on that, so it wouldn’t be a last-second fumbled story.

Ginny,
I don’t know if you will receive this letter before or after we arrive, but at the moment, I’m going to go with the assumption that it’ll serve as a warning.
I’ve told Hermione about Philomena, and about the offer.  Just like your mom, she doesn’t seem to be all that worried about her own birthday- but she’s definitely eager to meet you and your family…  beyond Ron, Fred, George, and Percy, who she knows here.  At the moment, I intend to bring myself, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Draco, Bonbon, Starlight Glimmer, and Morning Sun.  I don’t think you’ve met the last two.
As for the rest…  I’ll have to answer it when we meet.  See you Sunday!
Hailey.

Ginny sat, frozen with excitement, as she reread the letter.  They were coming!
Next to her, Hedwig finished her bacon treat and flew over to join Errol by the kitchen window.  There she would wait for Ginny’s answer, which Ginny usually set next to her on the windowsill while she napped.
“What is it?” her father asked- exactly as expected, he was off today.  Assuming nothing came up last-second, of course.
Her mother looked up as well, then paused.  “When do they get here?” she asked.
Ginny abandoned her half-eaten breakfast and bolted for the door.  “Didn’t say,” she called back, dashing up the stairs, letter in her hand.
She changed quickly into her new robes, using her wand to conjure a shimmering full body mirror out of thin air to check her appearance.  Satisfied, she turned to the door- then froze, and turned to look at her phoenix, which had watched the whole thing from the back of her chair.
She had an idea.
According to the letter, Hailey’s party was a total of ten people.  Add her, Molly, and Arthur…  and it would become thirteen.  She never had been a superstitious type, despite making exactly forty-two horcruxes (many of which were coins she’d spelled to conceal their true nature before spending them, making them basically impossible to track down), but thirteen was still an unlucky number.
If, on the other hand…
“Are you feeling up to a few trips this morning, Phoebe?”
The phoenix tilted its head and trilled.
She blinked.  “You’re right,” she observed.  “Do you like it?”
Phoebe the Phoenix held her head proudly, evidently accepting the name that had slipped naturally off of her tongue, even though she was fairly sure she’d never thought of it.  Phoebe then took flight, swooping over to land on Ginny’s shoulder and caress her head with a wing.
Ginny giggled.  “You’re welcome.  So, do you think you can take me to visit Bill real quick?”

William Weasley- Bill to his friends, family, and basically everyone else too- sighed as he looked out the window of his apartment.  He’d finished up one tomb on Friday…  and he was waiting for the paperwork to go through to grant him access to the next one.  It, just like the first, was probably going to take several months to fully de-curse- but he had to wait for the office staff to give him permission…  And, possibly more importantly, the location of the tomb and its entrance.
It was really too bad the office staff didn’t work on weekends.  He really enjoyed breaking the curses…  but he was going to have to wait for Monday at the earliest, possibly later.
He lifted his glass to his lips.
“Hi Bill!”
Milk cascaded down his front as he sputtered in surprise, then he spun to face the intruder.
His glass slipped out of his hand to shatter on the floor, sending a wave of milk over his shoes.
There was…  a girl.  His sister, Ginny Weasley, judging by her face, hair color, and the cheerful way she was greeting him.
On the other hand, the phoenix on her shoulder suggested that she was a Wizengamot member, and her opulent robes were…  well, opulent.  They were a cheerful blue that somehow went well with her hair.  It was accented by white and gold- including what looked like a few pieces of metal- and it sparkled gold in the sunlight.  She was wearing a headband that looked like it was made of pure crystal, and there were gleaming golden flowers in her hair.
Overall, her appearance almost perfectly drew the line between cute and beautiful…  but she also looked like a young queen.
“G-Ginny?” he finally asked, staring at her.
She giggled.  “Yes, that’s me,” she informed him.  “Was I…  unexpected?”
He raised an eyebrow.  “Unexpected?” he asked, then laughed, drawing his wand to clean up the spilled milk and repair the dropped glass.  “In more ways than one, I’d say.”  He paused.  “So…  where’d you get the outfit?”
“Oh this?”  She glanced down, then blinked, looked up at the window, and back down.  “...Huh,” she muttered.  “I didn’t think it’d…”  She looked up.  “Sorry.  Um, I made it.”
“You made it?” he repeated.  “You look like a queen.”
“A queen?” she asked, looking down and twisting to get a better view of her outfit.  “Does it make me look old or something…?”
An icy shiver ran down Bill’s spine.  He was no good when it came to girls- but one thing he knew well was that you never told one that she looked either old or fat, unless you wanted the short end of the stick.  “N-No,” he stuttered.  “It just looks like something a queen would wear.  Princesses would usually be…” he paused.  “A little plainer.”
“So a young queen then, huh?” Ginny muttered, looking down at herself.  “Interesting.”  She giggled softly, and looked back up at him.  “I don’t know if you’ve heard about Hailey?”
“Hailey…?” he repeated, rubbing his chin as he thought.  “Was she…  the girl you met in Diagon Alley and started trading letters with?”
“Yep!” Ginny answered excitedly.  “She and some of her friends are coming over for her friend Hermione’s birthday today; Mom’s throwing a party for them.  Do you want to come?”
His hesitation lasted only a single second.  “Oh, why not,” he relented.

Charlie let out a sigh, scanning the plans in front of him.  He knew he really shouldn’t, but he enjoyed working with dragons so much that his muscles ached almost constantly from overwork.  The last time he’d taken a day off had been…  what?  Two months ago?  Three?
No, that had been when he started work.
But…  it was true, he hadn’t taken a single day off since.  He loved his job.
The other keepers regularly took time off each week, in rotation- and now that he thought about it, regularly encouraged him to take time off.
Just like now.
“You really should take a day off,” Arbutus Granite, a fellow dragonkeeper, told him.  “In this line of work, overwork is a great way to get hurt!”
“Yes, but-!” he began.
“Don’t ‘but’ me,” Arbutus commanded him.  “Last time we let someone work to his heart’s content, he pulled a muscle or something while working with a dragon, then got trampled when we subsequently lost control of the beast!  I don’t want to lose you too!”
“You really should take some time off.”
Both of them jumped at the unexpected youthful voice, and looked up.
A girl was rising from ducking into the tent.  Her robes were opulent, her hair was elegant, and her face was-
“Ginny-?” Charlie blurted out.
“Yes, it’s me,” Ginny answered, smiling.  “Dragons are very dangerous.  And even if you don’t get killed after hurting yourself, an injury will take you out of action for months- magic healing can’t do much for torn muscles.  And if it tears all the way, muggle surgery becomes the only option!”
“Really?” Charlie asked, tilting his head.  “But Madam Pomfrey-?”
“Magic can heal bones in an instant, but not muscles,” she informed him.  “You don’t want to be crippled, so take at least a day off every so often.”  She put her hands on her hips and pouted at him, though the action only made her more adorable.
He sighed, and decided to address the dragon in the room.  “So…  where did you get those robes?”
Her pout vanished in an instant, becoming a mischievous grin.  “I made them,” she answered, mischief dancing in her eyes.
He stared at her for a few seconds.  “And where did you get the materials?”
Her grin widened.  “I made them,” she giggled.
He got the distinct idea that she wasn’t going to tell him any more.  He sighed.  “It seems awfully gaudy for everyday wear,” he informed her.
She shrugged.  “That’s why it’s not everyday,” she answered simply.  “Today’s special- Mom’s throwing a birthday party for my friend Hailey’s friend Hermione.”  She grinned again.  “You’re invited, by the way.”
“Excellent,” Arbutus cut in suddenly.  “We’ll take care of everything down here today, so you go have fun with your family, Charlie!”  He gave him a firm slap on the back.
Charlie sighed.  “Oh alright,” he muttered, then stretched his tired muscles.  “I probably should.”  He paused, looking up at Ginny.  “How did you get here, by the way?”
She only grinned.

“No thanks,” Bill told Molly, his mother, who was offering to make him breakfast.  “I already ate.”  He paused.  “So, Ginny said she made those flashy robes of hers- where did they come from?”
Arthur, his father, looked up.  “Flashy robes?” he asked.
“What flashy robes?” Molly asked.  “Last I saw, she was running upstairs in her nightgown.”
He rubbed his chin.  “Huh.  It didn’t look much like a nightgown.”  He paused.  “Anyways, she said there was a birthday party?”
“Yes!” Molly cried.  “We’re actually just getting ready.  Her friend Hailey has a friend named…”  She paused, then looked at Arthur.  “Did you catch it?”
“Sounded like ‘hurt-my-own-knee’ to me,” Arthur answered.
“Hermione,” Bill corrected.
“Yes, that,” Molly nodded.  “It’s her birthday today, so Hailey and friends are coming to visit- it’s going to be wonderful!”
“I bet,” he agreed.  “I also noticed she has a phoenix?”
“Yes, she does,” Arthur nodded.  “She wants to keep it secret, though- try not to mention it to anyone?”
A sudden explosion of fire appeared right next to Bill, earning a shriek of surprise from him as he leaped away.  It quickly resolved itself into Ginny, Charlie, and the phoenix.
“Thanks, Phoebe!” Ginny said, stroking the phoenix as she pranced back to her abandoned breakfast.
“What the-?” Molly began.  “Ginny, where did you get that outfit?”
Both Bill and Charlie chuckled.
“I made it,” Ginny answered cheerfully, through a mouthful of eggs.
“And the materials?” Arthur asked.
She swallowed her eggs.  “I made those too.  And no, it didn’t cost so much as a single knut.”
“Where did you find the materials for the materials?” Molly asked.
“I made them,” she answered promptly, grinning mischievously, before chomping on her bacon.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s the truth,” she told her, continuing to scarf down her breakfast.  “I made every bit of it, from the ground up.”
“How on earth…?” Arthur muttered.

It didn’t take long to finish breakfast and clean it up.  Not too long after that, Molly was mixing up a chocolate birthday cake, Arthur was casting cleaning spells everywhere, Bill and Charlie were out back setting up the tables, and Ginny was throwing decorations up- quite literally, in most cases, making the results she was getting really quite amazing- when it happened.
Ginny froze suddenly, head turned towards the door.  A second later, she bolted excitedly from the room.
Two seconds after that, they heard the sound of the front door slamming open and a gasp of alarm.

Hermione shuddered as she, Hailey, and their friends materialized on an unfamiliar lawn.  The air was cool, but not too cold- and before them stood a house.  It was an odd, lopsided house, that she was fairly sure was supported by magic in at least a few places; it looked almost like someone had been playing with magnetic blocks with very little respect for gravity.
“Here we are,” Hailey observed calmly.  “You ready, Hermione?”
Before she could answer, the front door exploded open right in front of her and a red-and-blue missile came flying out to collide with Hailey.
Hermione gasped, leaping backwards- then blinked as the missile resolved into a girl with very bright red hair, hugging Hailey with all her might.
“Well hello to you too, Ginny,” Hailey greeted, having only taken a single step back to absorb the girl’s speed.
“What the hell?” Ron began.
“Where did you get those robes?” Fred asked.
“She made them,” Hailey told him.
Then Ginny broke from her hug.  “Wha-?  How do you know?” she asked.
Hailey only grinned.
“Shiny,” Draco observed, igniting some laughter as a woman- presumably Mrs. Weasley- appeared in the door, a spatula held like a wand.
“Oh,” Mrs. Weasley said, letting out a breath of relief.  “Come in, come in!  We were just getting ready- not much warning, you see.”
Hailey chuckled.  “So Hedwig did arrive before we did,” she observed.
Ginny then looked around at everyone, and spotted Hermione.  “You’re…  Hermione, right?”  The glint of mischief was dancing in her eyes.
“Uh- yes?” Hermione asked.  What was going on?  Why was Ginny-!?
Ginny grabbed her hand, then started dragging both her and Hailey into the house and up the stairs.  “C’mon,” she cheered.  “There’s something I want to give you!”
“Um- okay?” she asked, thoroughly bewildered as she followed.
She didn’t miss Hailey giving Bonbon a wink, nor Bonbon’s answering smile.

Ginny was almost crazy with excitement.  She’d just met Hailey, and then Hermione- and she hadn’t missed the ‘HSI’ badges gleaming on each of their chests.
She’d then been visited by a simply wonderful idea, done a bit of quick estimation, and pounced on the opportunity while she still had it.
She dragged Hailey and Hermione both to her room, then knocked her entire bowl of liquid crystal into the basin to start making fabric- or more specifically, two outfits.  She somehow knew the unused material would be found on the bottom of the basin, as crystal rather than as fabric.
“I’m sorry it’s last-minute,” she told Hermione, only barely concealing her excitement, “but I thought I should make you a present.”
“Make me a…?” Hermione asked, flabbergasted.  “Why would you need me for that?”
She held her arms out.  “You see what I’m wearing, right?  I thought it’d look good on you too.”  She paused.  “On both of you, actually…  I can hardly leave Hailey out, can I?”
Hailey chuckled softly.  “You’re hopeless, aren’t you Ginny?”
Ginny blushed scarlet, averting her eyes.
“Don’t clothes take a long time to make?” Hermione asked.
“You’d think,” Ginny answered quickly, grinning at her.  “Not these, though.”
“So you’re…?”  Hermione paused.  “Oh, you’re a Royal too, aren’t you?”
She blinked.  “How’d you guess?”
“Well, in order to make clothes, you made that basin start boiling by knocking a bowl of something into it, and now you’re watching it expectantly.”
She paused.  “Well…  Yes.”  She looked at the basin.  “It, uh…  doesn’t seem like it’ll go any faster without boiling over.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fast enough,” Hailey observed.

“I-!” Hermione began, putting her hands up to her mouth.  Ginny had pulled dry outfits out of her bucket of water…  so she and Hailey had tried them on.  Ginny had then warned them that the next step might tickle- and she’d been right, it had tickled.  But now that it was done, the outfit fit her perfectly.  She’d known from first glance that it was flashy, and that she’d probably only wear it on special occasions- but now that Ginny had conjured mirrors for her and Hailey to look at themselves in…
“I look like I’m getting married,” she squeaked, staring at her blushing reflection.  There were even shiny silver orchid flowers in her hair!
Hailey, on the other hand, had brilliant, crystal blue roses, which managed to draw out the girl’s cuteness rather than the strength and reliability that her usual black brought out.
“You’re right,” Hailey observed, turning to the sides to get a better view of her new outfit.  “It does look like that, doesn’t it?  That said, I think they’re a bit too cute to be wedding gowns, so we’re probably safe.”
Hermione and Ginny both blushed scarlet.

“Welcome ba-  WOAH,” Fred began, staring across the kitchen at the three girls as they entered the room.
Draco looked, and found himself staring as well.  The transformation was…  unbelievable.
“Cute,” he observed, and tilted his head as he looked at Ginny.  “Can you do that to me too?”
Ginny blinked, taken aback, and stared at him for a second, before rubbing her chin.  She looked so adorable, just like a concerned princess.  “Um…” she muttered.  “I…  Yeah.  I don’t have enough left over…”  She trailed off.  “So I’m sorry, I can’t.  Maybe next time?”