Archive of Our Own ^beta

As the sun dipped behind the Gallatin mountains, its final rays cast a hazy glow over the salt and pepper peaks. Fistfuls of white fluff had fallen all afternoon, and now that the storm had taken a breather, the scraping of shovels echoed across town.

The residents along Olive Street dutifully joined in.

There was no time for the usual chit chat at the end of driveways or children playing atop frozen mounds. No, on this night, scarves were pulled tight across cheeks and hats were drawn low to protect against the whistling wind.

Amid the twinkling lights that burned bright across each rooftop, the vibrant strands of red, yellow, green, and blue all signaled the same message: come home soon.

This is likely why no one paid attention to the loud “pop!” under the tinseled light post, or the large six-and-a-half-foot man that suddenly appeared with it.

He did not waste any time.

The moment the man’s loafers landed with a crunch of ice, he was on the move. His heavy stride forged its own footpath through the semi-cleared sidewalks.

As he passed by rows of warmly lit suburban homes, his business attire did little to protect him from the elements. With hands dug deep into the thin pockets of his trench coat, he continued on course. Snowflakes sprinkled the top of his bald head and instantly melted into his smooth black skin. A gold hoop hung from one ear.

Slowing to a stop, he finally arrived at a tall wooden fence with brambles of branches sprouting from the top. He reluctantly removed a hand to brush snow from the house number. He took a breath, then pushed the gate open to reveal a quiet house illuminated only by the moon. Along the front porch, two main pillars carried the weight of the roof, and curtains darkened each window.

With a determined step forward, his shoe fell through a thick layer of snow.

Unperturbed, the man double-checked that the gate was shut behind him then reached inside his coat. In a blink of an eye, or rather a flick of a wrist, the snow shifted. There was now a clear brick path that led up the porch.

He strode forward, hopped up each step, and raised his fist to the door.

The sound of muffled voices made him pause.

He focused his attention on the door, but still couldn’t make out the words on the other side. Staring intently at the wooden barrier, the man mumbled under his breath, and two distinct voices became clear.

“-we’ll just explain what happened,” said a soft-spoken man.

“You don’t know these people like I do,” a woman replied with a proper English accent. “There’s no reasoning with them. Once we’re identified… it’s over.”

The man on the porch shifted uncomfortably.

“It was a long time ago. Maybe things have changed…”

The voices began to fade, so the man leaned his gold-hooped ear closer, and a tin mailbox caught his eye. Bolted to the side of the house, someone had written ‘The Wright Family’ across it in elegant script. Absentmindedly, he reached forward, tracing a finger around each painted letter of the cold metal box.

Suddenly, the front door swung open, and the man was greeted with the deadly end of a shotgun.

“Can I help you?”

Mrs. Wright’s tone was polite, yet firm.

With her feet planted into the hardwood, the young woman’s dark brown skin glowed with a gold undertone. Tight black curls sprung from the top of her head in a rounded puff.

The trespasser quietly loomed over her, seemingly unfazed by the gun at his chest.

Keeping a close eye on the man’s hands, she tried again.

“Who sent you?”

“Rey, honey,” spoke a young man sitting behind her. He had wispy brown hair and sand-colored skin. Stacks of papers were strewn about in front of him. Unlike the woman, he sounded distinctively American. “Can’t we settle this without a weapon?”

“If only he were unarmed,” she clipped back, “which is most certainly not the case.” She motioned toward the trespasser’s chest with the barrel of her gun. “There will be no wands in this house.”

Staring down at her with sad eyes, the trespasser reached toward his chest and removed a thin wooden handle from his coat. Finger on the trigger, she watched him like a hawk as he flung the carved stick over the porch rail.

Satisfied, she looked up at the man’s face and her eyes grew wide.

Slowly, she lowered the gun.

“Well, great!” Her American husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands. “Sorry ‘bout that. I think the stress of the day is getting to us,” he explained, joining his wife’s side. He sported a royal blue pullover with the large logo of a bobcat in the center.

With a reassuring hand on her back, Mr. Wright gently removed the shotgun from her hands and set it aside. The woman did not react. She stood frozen in front of the visitor whose dark skin and high cheekbones closely mirrored her own.

“You can call me Gerry, and this here’s Reyna,” Mr. Wright offered. He motioned for the man to come inside. “How ‘bout we sit down at the table and talk this out, huh? Excuse the mess. I promised my students I’d have their papers graded by tomorrow, but well… here we are.”

With no response or movement, Mr. Wright rambled on, “We did expect some sort of visit tonight. I asked Rey if we should leave town, but then she reminded me that the Magical Congress can find us anywhere. Heh, ‘cause, yuh know… magic,” he chuckled nervously. “Can I get you a beer? Pop? What’s your name?”

Reyna responded first. Her accent rang out, prim and pointed.

“His name is Kingsley.”

* * *

Amongst the distant whispers of adults discussing adult things, two children were crouched at the top of the staircase. Tenley, a plump seven-year-old with two puffs of black curls, and Fitz, her freckled five-year-old brother.

It was all her fault.

Tenley tried not to think about it, but the images kept flashing through her mind. The fire. The fear on her friends’ faces.

A light flickered in the room behind them.

Mom warned them that magic people show up whenever things like this happen.

Fitz shook his big sister’s shoulder, then motioned down the stairs.

Tenley had stopped listening once the adults were saying silly things, like ‘dumb-strang’ and ‘ol-da-mort’. She tried to focus.

“It’s the only way to protect them,” the visitor’s deep voice boomed. He talked like Mom, which was funny, because not many people in Montana had an English accent. “They have to learn!”

“You’ve never even met them,” Mom said in her serious voice. “You don’t get to show up after ten years, and start telling me what to do with my kids.”

“Now Rey, your brother may have a point,” Dad chimed in.

Eyes wide, Tenley and Fitz looked at each other. She mouthed the word “brother?”

The bedroom lamp flickered again.

Mom cut him off. “We’ve talked about this. They’re growing up away from that dangerous world. Just look at what happened today!”

Tenley felt a deep pang and it all came back. The smell of smoke. The firetrucks. Miss Matteson’s scream. A hot pressure rushed through her body. It pounded up to her head and through her fingertips.

Behind them, the lamp light stayed on.

Fitz looked over his shoulder. He tugged on his sister’s sweater as he watched the bulb in Tenley’s bedroom grow brighter and brighter.

She felt like she was going to explode.

Downstairs, the visitor boomed, “It’s your choice not to use magic, but that’s not a choice you can make for them!”

POP! The kids jumped to their feet as glass shattered and clinked against wood and window panes.

Frozen, they both stared into the dark abyss of Tenley’s bedroom.

Her heart raced a mile a minute, but the pain in her head was gone. It was the same feeling from earlier in the day when she stood in the aftermath of her second-grade classroom.

First, there was silence, then the scrape of a chair.

“Ten? Fitz?” Mom’s worried voice rung out. “Are you alright?”

Bare feet clicked across the floor, then they heard her familiar patter up the carpet.

“What’s this about?” she asked, resting a gentle hand on each of their shoulders.

Fitz raised a finger toward Tenley’s bedroom.

Mom flipped on the overhead light and inspected the scene. Exposed wire and a few remnants of jagged bulb stuck out of the bedside lamp fixture.

“Stay right there,” she instructed and disappeared down the stairs.

Dad’s voice called, “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, just a mess in Tenley’s room,” Mom replied casually. They heard the sticky sound of plastic wheels roll across the kitchen linoleum. “Nothing to worry about.”

Tenley listened as she lugged the heavy vacuum up the first few steps. There was another scraping of chairs as the two men stood up from the table.

“Let me help with that,” the visitor offered.

“No, no, that’s quite alright,” mom shooed, “I’ve got it.”

Another thud as it reached the next step.

“Reyna, really, I-”

“Made it this far without you,” she called back. There was an edge to her voice. “I think I can manage.”

The men fell silent as the vacuum continued up the stairs.

When Mom finally made it back to the room, she started unwrapping the thick cord behind the tall square machine. In her usual tender tone, she instructed, “While I get this cleaned up, I want you two to get ready for bed, okay?”

“Momma…” Tenley mumbled, staring down at her feet.

Reyna continued on as if she didn’t hear her, “Brush your teeth. Protect your hair.”

“Mom, I… I thin-”

“Must’ve been an old bulb,” she told herself. “It’s a miracle you weren’t hurt.”

“I saw it!” Fitz blurted out, pointing at his sister. “I saw it!”

Reyna’s body tensed and she turned her attention back to the vacuum.

“Bedtime, Fitz,” she quietly asserted. “Now.”

Her brother’s little feet stomped down the hall while Tenley stayed in the doorway.

Avoiding her daughter’s gaze, Reyna calmly plugged the cord into the wall. The loud vacuum whirred to life. Tenley watched her carefully maneuver it around the room, crackling as the machine met glass. Her mom’s curls bounced with each stride.

Tenley wanted to be just like her. Mom always knew what to do.

“There,” her mom breathed as the vacuum powered down, “that should do it.” She grabbed Tenley’s pink fluffy slippers and placed them in front of her. “Put these on. I’ll check for any stragglers as you brush your teeth.”

Tenley quietly did what she was told.

When she got back to her room, her five-year old brother was sitting cross-legged on her bed in his dinosaur pajamas. The broken lamp had been removed from her bedside table.

“Ten, I saw it!” he squealed. “I saw the light go-”, he made an exploding motion with his hands. She hopped up next to him. Fitz looked up at her and his forehead wrinkled, “Do you think it was…” He silently mouthed the last syllables, “magic?”

There was a knock, and Dad appeared in the doorway, his hand in the pocket of his favorite Montana State pullover.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he chimed, “but it is far past your bedtimes.” They both groaned as he motioned towards the door. “Say goodnight, Fitz.”

He slid off the bed and grumbled on his way out, “Night, Ten.”

Gerry took a moment to study his daughter. Concern flashed past his blue eyes. “Give me a minute to tuck him into bed, and I’ll be back,” he assured. Once he saw her nod in agreement, he darted down the hall.

When he returned, she heard another knock at the door. Tenley was curled up under her covers with the overhead lights still on.

Gerry flipped the switch.

“Dad…” she quietly called across the dark room. “I don’t have a lamp, remember?”

With a click, a golden white beam lit up his face, highlighting his pale skin. “I thought this would come in handy,” he chuckled, waving the flashlight in his hand so that the beam danced around the room. He sat on the side of her bed and focused it on the wall. The orb cast enough light for them to see each other.

“Busy day, huh?” He offered.

Tenley sat up fully to see him. Then her face grew grim, “Am I in trouble?”

“No, no, T-Leaf,” he soothed. “We lucked out. Apparently, we’ve had a guardian angel all along in the form of a large Englishman!”

Puzzled, Tenley probed, “Mom’s brother?”

“I see you’ve heard the big news!” Gerry chuckled. “Yes, I met your Uncle Kingsley tonight.“

“I don’t remember…” she mumbled.

“Yes, I’m still wrapping my head around it myself,” he said carefully, scratching the stubble on his chin. “Turns out he cleaned up your classroom and modified some memories… your classmates won’t remember what they saw.”

Tenley whispered in disbelief, “He used magic on them?”

“Indeed,” his voice lowered with a frown. “Not sure how I feel about it on an ethical level, but the important part is that our family is safe. We can continue on as normal.”

Tenley nodded, but a deep pit remained in her stomach. Her skin shivered, thinking of the pounding in her head.

“Dad… what if I do it again?”

He gave this a thought. “A fair question,” he affirmed. “Mom and I talked about finding someone who can teach you. So you can have more control over it.”

“No!” she yelped. “I don’t want it. Can’t you just make it go away?”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “magic is a gift. Just because I wasn’t born with it, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t discover it for yourself.”

“What about Mom!” she countered. “If it’s so great, why wouldn’t she do it?”

He studied the hurt on her face. “It’s not my place to tell that story… but let’s see if I can find a different one,“ he pondered, slowly spinning the wedding ring around his finger. “Have I ever told you about Jason and the Argonauts?”

She shook her head.

“It’s a classic Greek myth that I teach in my- ”

“Oh great,” she grumbled.

“I’ll have you know, Miss Wright, my students find me very engaging,” he teased. “But point taken! Let’s see if I can tell an abridged version.”

“Alright… “ Gerry sighed. He stretched out his arms in preparation and waved his fingers in front of her to paint the scene, “Imagine a golden kingdom on the coast of the Black Sea. Happy townspeople. The land overflowing with food and prosperity.” Tenley watched his hands cast shadows on her bedroom wall. “It was ruled by a magic family of gods, but you and I would call them wizards.”

Tenley’s ears perked up.

“The King was in possession of a magical artifact known as the Golden Fleece that he guarded with a big scary dragon. Oceans away, a mortal man named Jason was asked to steal it-”

“Why?”

Her dad’s brow furrowed.

“The gold thingy,” she explained. “What does it do?”

He grinned.

“That, my love, has been debated for centuries.” Excited, he rattled on. “Legend says it’s the hide of a magical flying ram. Some scholars think it’s a symbol for gold, some think the answer to eternal life-”

“But what do you think?”

His eyes glimmered.

Dad lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s a map.”

Tenley considered this, then declared, “I like the flying sheep.”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed. “In that case, no one thought Jason was crazy enough to go off and capture this magic sheep. But to everyone’s surprise, Jason built a ship, gathered a group of friends, and sailed to the kingdom. After battling sirens, giants, and monsters, they finally made it!” He threw his hands up, then grew serious again.

“But Jason still had to find a way to get to the Fleece,” he added, “so he asked the King for it.”

Tenley’s forehead crinkled. “He just asked for it?”

“He did! And surprisingly, the King agreed, but on one condition,” Dad explained.

He held up three fingers, “Jason was to complete three impossible tasks.”

Tenley studied her dad’s face as he continued.

“But Jason had an advantage that the King didn’t know about,” he smiled coyly. “The King’s daughter, Medea, had fallen in love with him, and she used her magic to help Jason complete each task.”

“First,” he counted one finger, “she helped him survive fire-breathing bulls.”

“Next,” he tapped another. “He got past soldiers made of stone.”

“And third, they stole the Golden Fleece from the dragon,” he concluded, resting his hands on his knee. “And ran off together.”

“So you’re saying…" Tenley spoke slowly, “magic will help me fight a dragon?”

“No, no, love,” Gerry chuckled. “Here’s my point. Jason didn’t have magic, but he sailed across the ocean anyway. And Medea,” he said, twisting his ring again. “She left everything behind to run away with him. I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Her dad took a deep breath. “You can do magic, T-leaf, and that is special. But it is not all you are. Do not underestimate the power you wield with or without it.”

He waited for his words to sink in as she rested her chin in her little fists.

Tenley finally looked up at him, “Why’d she do that for someone she just met?”

She saw his forehead crinkle, then humor entered his blue eyes.

“I‘m no wizard,” her dad began, “but I do know the power of love.”

She giggled and sunk back down into her covers. “I guess that wasn’t the most boring one you’ve told!”

He grinned and kissed her head, “Get some sleep.”

Jumping up, he carried the beam of light with him to the doorway.

He smiled back at her, “Maybe it’ll make more sense when you’re older.”

With a wink, he closed the door.

9 ¾ Years Later

Tenley Wright hid behind her copy of Introduction to Geometry. At least that’s what it looked like she was reading as Mr. Carlson droned on and on about the Pythagorean theorem.

Her pencil mindlessly twirled around her thin black braids as she skimmed the textbook standing open on her desk. She had far more important things on her mind than measuring shapes and planes. Real school would have to wait.

Turning to the next page, Tenley jolted upward, then shut her book.

She looked around to triple-check that no one was looking, then slowly opened back up to the same page that caused her to panic.

As if it were a television screen, Tenley watched a picture of a hand holding a wand move across the page. Images like this were why she was forbidden to bring any wizarding materials outside of the rug shop; non-magic people weren’t ready to see such things.

Studying the moving picture, Tenley readjusted her grip on her #2 pencil as if it were her own wand handle. She gave it a subtle swish and flick, then sighed.

If only magic could be more like geometry. Numbers were practical and impartial. They didn’t rely on the movement of the planets or pronouncing nonsensical words correctly. Tenley longed for the day when she no longer had to memorize faux-Latin phrases and their corresponding hand motions. Nevertheless, her parents insisted that she learn witchcraft alongside the real world.

They had a deal.

As long as she completed all seven years of basic wizardry, her parents would support any college she wanted to attend. As far as Tenley was concerned, tomorrow morning’s Charms final was the only thing currently standing between her and the normal life she wanted.

As she copied down the five most common uses for a levitation charm, she thought about how to secure a passing grade. There wasn’t a spell that came to mind, but she had recently heard about a potion that guaranteed good luck…

“Ahem,” a throat clearing registered somewhere in the back of her mind.

“Tenley!”

Her copper eyes jumped out of her book and focused on Mr. Carlson at the front of the room. He wore his usual self-satisfied grin.

Tenley’s face grew warm as the attention of the room shifted to her.

“What was the question?” She called back to him.

Mr. Carlson rolled his eyes as he strolled up the aisle to where she was sitting. “I’d rather see what you’ve been prioritizing over my class,” he scoffed, then swiped the notebook off of her desk.

His nose wrinkled as he tried to decipher her chicken scratch, “What is this gibberish?”

Wearing a bored expression, Tenley replied, “Witchcraft.”

The surrounding students snickered, but Mr. Carlson was less amused.

“Well,” he said, tossing the notebook back on her desk, “at this point, magic may be your only hope of passing my class.”

A chorus of “ooo”s echoed around the room as he returned to the whiteboard.

“Thank you for your concern,” Tenley retorted through a sickly-sweet smile.

He rolled his eyes and pointed to the large triangle drawn on the board. “Now, can anyone tell me how to solve for x?”

Rinnng!

Papers rustled and chairs creaked as students jumped up at the sound of the bell. Tenley remained seated, staring intently at the equation on the board.

“Make sure your problem sets are completed by tomorrow!” Mr. Carlson called out while taking a seat at his desk.

Tenley’s hand itched toward her backpack pocket. It would be so easy to light his grade book on fire or turn his stapler into a toad. Shaking the thought from her mind, she grabbed her things and headed towards the door.

On second thought, Tenley paused and looked back at her teacher.

“X equals seven, by the way,” Tenley said casually, motioning to the board.

Without waiting for a response, she dipped into the hallway.

Wearing her own self-satisfied grin, she bobbed and weaved through the bustle of students during the end-of-day rush. That is, until she rounded the corner.

A deep-bellied laugh caused her to freeze. She’d know that sound from anywhere. It carried all the memories of trampoline playdates to prank calls and camping trips. Clinging to the wall, Tenley tried not to be seen as she listened to her best friend, Lauren, perform for a group of people.

“I swear! This really happened…” Lauren reassured her audience. Tenley could picture her grand hand gestures and each dramatic flip of her bleach blonde hair.

Every cell in Tenley’s body urged her forward. She wanted to be the one again, the first one that Lauren would run and tell all of her stories to. Hell, she wanted to be a part of them.

Suddenly, a lump formed in the back of her throat. Her eyes began to burn. She quickly steered herself away.

Those days were gone.

When she made it down the stairs, Tenley caught sight of her thirteen-year-old brother leaning up against her locker. Fitz shared the same high cheekbones and brown skin as her, except for the freckles that dotted across his nose and cheeks.

He was fiddling with the buttons on his Walkman portable cassette player. The thin band of his headphones cut through black curls that were worn high and tight atop his head.

Averting his eyes, Tenley focused on her locker combination.

“Oh hey, Ten,” Fitz said. Lowering his headphones around his neck, “How’s the studying going?”

“Let’s just say, I may be following in Mom’s footsteps.”

“She’d be thrilled,” he grinned. “Probably throw you a wand burning party.”

Tenley laughed in agreement. Despite forcing her kids to learn magic, their mom wanted no part of it. She avoided even being in the same room as a wand.

Rifling through her belongings, the paper cover of her geometry textbook ripped just enough for Fitz to recognize an entirely different title. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5.

Fitz’ mouth fell open. He did a quick scan of their surroundings before whispering, “Are you insane?!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she waved him off, “These O.W.Ls are killing me.”

“So you’d rather Terrance kill you? Nothing leaves the basement. You know that!”

“Don’t worry,” she shrugged. “I’ll put it back before he notices.”

Exasperated, Fitz said, “Next you’re gonna say you brought-”, he took a quick look around the hall again, “- your wand to school.”

Tenley rolled her eyes and lowered her voice, “Just wait ‘til you have to pass wizarding exams and sophomore year at the same time. It’s bullshit.”

“Still,” Fitz shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re one to talk,” she said. “I saw your guide to Defensive Magical Theory lying around the house the other day.”

“Wasn’t me!” he exclaimed.

“What?” she smirked. “You’re saying mom suddenly took an interest?”

Fitz shrugged. “Or dad. There’s been a surprising rise in wizard crime lately.”

“Terrance tell you that?”

He shook his head.

Tenley’s brow furrowed. “What other wizards are you talking to?”

Fitz held up his silver Walkman.

Doubtful, she asked, “You get radio on that thing?”

“I may have done some tinkering… I can listen to Mystifying Mysteries from anywhere now!”

“Oh joy, nothing like unsolved wizarding crime to brighten your day,” she said sarcastically.

“All I’m saying,” he explained, “one episode and you’d also be tempted to read up on defensive spells.”

She shut her locker, and Fitz followed her to the main doors.

The sun taunted them as they began their normal route home. Green stems poked through the dead grass in front of Peets High while snow still glistened from the surrounding mountain tops.

He paused as a thought struck him. “You haven’t been doing magic at home have you?”

“Seriously?” She said dryly.

“Things have just seemed off lately… like the hot water lasts longer than five minutes and that floor board in the dining room doesn’t creak any more.”

She laughed. “I promise you, Fitz. If I was practicing spells, those would not be my first priorities.”

“Well, someone’s doing it! Have you noticed how clean everything is suddenly?”

Fitz had no trouble keeping stride with his sister as she sped down Main Street along the rows of restaurants and store windows.

As they waited for the lights to change, Tenley nodded over to a small shop with bicycles hanging in a darkened window.

“Lights are off in the bike shop.”

Fitz followed her gaze. “Huh. Maybe Mom took the day off.”

“Our mom?” Tenley gave a snort. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Their mom had worked at Bozeman Bikes for as long as they could remember. It was odd for her not to be there on a weekday afternoon.

When the crosswalk cleared, they continued on down Main Street. The sweet smell of pastries followed them all the way past the video store and the ski shop.

Fitz turned down their usual side-street, and took a few steps down their after-school route before noticing his sister was no longer by his side. He called after her, “We don’t have tutoring today, remember?”

Already on the other side of the street, Tenley turned her head with a cryptic grin, “I know.”

Fitz swore under breath and jogged to catch up with her.

“Don’t you wanna check on Mom? No one’s even there on Wednesdays!” He said as he followed her to the red brick building on the corner. The large sign above the door read Big Sky Artisan Rugs.

“Exactly,” she said, rustling through her canvas bag.

Fitz groaned, “Please tell me you didn’t actually bring your wand.”

“C’mon,” Tenley countered. “If it were that easy, wizards would be breaking in left and right.”

She pulled out a silver key, and the bells atop the door jingled as she let herself in. Tenley held the door open for her brother, but he just stared at her.

“Fitz, we practically live here. Relax. I just need to drop these books off.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head. “You took more than one!”

“Borrowed! Stop acting like I’ve committed grand larceny.” Tenley held the door open for him until he slowly dipped a toe inside.

Daylight streamed through the large front windows and provided just enough light to make out the familiar fabrics and carpet that adorned the shop walls. They tip-toed past antique tables and wooden chests with little paper price-tags attached.

It was eerily quiet without Mr. and Mrs. Huynh manning their family business. Tenley’s boots creaked across the hardwood as she made her way to the back corner of the store. She tried the door marked with an ‘Employees Only’ sign. It was locked. She quietly reached into the inside pocket of her canvas bag while Fitz was busy inspecting trinkets by the check-out counter.

With the coast clear, she withdrew her wand.

A prickle of energy rose through her arm as she directed it at the lock. Click.

“Be right back!” She called to Fitz before climbing down the rickety staircase to the storeroom basement. It carried its usual stench of castor oil and dandelion root.

When Tenley reached the bottom, lanterns buzzed overhead to reveal their cramped classroom. Remnants of grated foxglove and leech juice were scattered around the cauldrons from yesterday’s lesson. Little stick figures drawn on the chalk board still demonstrated the theory behind shrinking potions.

Over the years, their underground tutor center had accumulated an endless array of magical artifacts scattered high and low across the walls. There were oddball items for both educational and entertainment purposes, including gemstones, haunted silverware, and a chocolate frog card collection.

Then, of course, there was the entire section of rolled-up flying carpets. It was common for the wizard community to call upon Mr. and Mrs. Huynh for their expert rug repair and appraisal services.

This is how her parents became aware of another wizard family living in town.

Although Mom still wanted nothing to do with magic, she agreed that her children should learn the basics, and the Huynh’s only son, Terrance, was up for the job.

To the horror of his parents, Terrance returned home from his east-coast boarding school with no intention of joining the wizard work force. He was more drawn to the performing arts. However, he gladly accepted the financial stability of teaching the Wright kids on the side. It was a welcome alternative to selling rugs.

Tenley made her way to the back wall that was solely dedicated to books that were not available in their local library. As she scanned the spines, she cursed Terrance’s own organizational system. It didn’t make much sense to anyone except him. She slid an advanced potion guide next to an old A is for Albus baby book, then placed her spell book next to the highly-acclaimed Charmed to Meet You romance series.

Next, she needed to return her wand.

Tenley dipped behind a curtain to enter a back room that was the designated spell-casting area. She quickly crossed the carpet and-

Squeeeak!

She stopped dead. Tenley conjured a white light and aimed it at the ground to find a rubber chicken lying under her foot.

As she stifled a laugh, her wand drifted over piles of brightly colored scarves and playing cards overflowing from the corner closet. Terrace must have a gig tonight, she reasoned.

Stepping over the mess, she made it to the costume rack within. Tenley parted the sea of dress shirts and patterned vests until she found what she was after. The keypad to his safe. She began to enter his seven-digit code.

Suddenly, a lamp flickered on.

Wand at her back, Tenley whipped around to find her tutor, dressed up in a navy pinstripe suit. He did not look particularly happy to see her.

“Really?” Terrance said as red irritation crept up his paper-white neck.

With a flick of his wrist, Tenley’s wand flew out of her hands and into his grip.

“I was just practicing for the exam on Friday,” she explained.

His eyes narrowed.

“That’s what you’re going with?” He shook his head in disbelief, then conjured an armchair out of thin air. Settling back into the cushions, he ran his fingers through his slicked-back black hair, and sighed, “Really, kid, I expected more from you.”

Always a flare for the dramatic, she thought.

Nine years older than her, Terrance seemed more like a bossy older brother than an authority figure. Behind him, she spotted her actual brother glaring at her from the entrance.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” she countered, walking toward the doorway. “You have my wand back now, so we’re all good.”

Terrance closed his eyes and pinched the small bridge of his nose. “You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” he muttered.

With a wave of his wand, another chair appeared. In a blink of an eye, it swept Tenley off her feet. The cushy armchair caught her fall, then spun her across the carpet until it stopped abruptly in front of him. Out of the corner of her eye, Fitz seemed to be enjoying the show.

Now face-to-face, Tenley searched for any sign of humor in Terrance’s brown eyes, but they’d gone black and cold. She tried a different route.

“You look nice. Who hired a magician on a Wednesday night?”

“Illusionist,” he corrected her. “And I have a date, thank you very much.”

“Well don’t let us keep you!” she exclaimed while standing up.

He put out his hand, and she leaned back into the chair.

“Winnie…” she reasoned, “what do you want me to say?”

Terrance raised an eyebrow at the old nickname. At eight years old, Huynh made her think of ‘Winnie the Pooh’.

“How about the real reason you’re here, Tenny?” he said mockingly, cocking his head to the side.

“I told you,” she affirmed. “Just needed some more practice.”

“And you snuck into my parent’s shop, just to put your wand back before I would notice?”

Fitz’ eyes grew wide.

“I did,” Tenley admitted.

“And this has nothing to do with the Felix Felicis you saw me stash in my safe last week?”

After a brief pause, she laughed. “You’re paranoid.”

“Remind me…” he said, tapping her wand on his chin. “Right after we talked about the potion… what did you want to practice a duplication charm on? Oh right, keys!”

A flash of silver zoomed out of her bag and into Terrance’s free hand.

Holding up the store key, he leveled with her. “You don’t need liquid luck to pass your exams, Tenley.”

Arms crossed, she avoided his smug stare.

“Listen, kid. I’m not always gonna be there to stop you from pulling dumb shit like this.” Terrance leaned back in his chair, “I upped security on the safe. Next time you want your wand, just ask.”

Once dismissed, they silently made their way up the stairs and back out into the blinding sun.

“Well, that was something,” Tenley said, trying to lighten the mood. She looked up at her brother, but he was gone.

Already half-way across the street, she ran after him. “Fitz,” she called. “Fitz! I’m sorry, okay!”

“Whatever,” he muttered as she caught up to him.

Matching his stride, she waited for him to have something more to say. Fitz always had something more to say.

“What happened to always being straight with me, huh?” He finally let out, throwing his hands in the air.

It stung.

He began to mimic her voice, “Mom and Dad are always keepin’ us in the dark, Fitz! We gotta trust each other, Fitz!”

He was right. She hated that he was right.

“I knew you’d try and stop me,” she said.

“Of course I’d stop you!” he exclaimed. “I would’ve told you how stupid you’re being, and think of something better. Did you ever consider that, huh? Maybe I could think of something better?”

His words lingered in the air as they sped down Olive Street. Finally, they came upon the tall fence surrounding their home. When they got inside the front gate, Tenley froze.

Fitz looked back at her. “What’s up?”

“All the blinds are drawn.”

Inspecting the house, he shrugged, “Why does that-?

“There’s only one reason they block the windows,” Tenley said as she raced up the front porch steps and yanked open the door.

There at the dining room table sat mom, dad, and their uncle, Kingsley. He had the same commanding presence and dark brown skin as their mom.

Forlornly, the adults looked up at them as they walked into the front hall. Kingsley stood and walked over to them.

“Hey Uncle K,” Fitz exclaimed as they embraced. “It’s been a while.”

He sighed, “Work has been something else lately.”

“Is it the disappearances?” Fitz replied.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. “I see you’ve been keeping up with the news,” he said before moving on to greet Tenley.

“What’s this all about?” Tenley asked as she let go of his towering frame. Her uncle only showed up when there was something wrong. Something that he had to fix.

“How about you sit down with us,” Dad called softly.

Hesitantly, Tenley and Fitz followed their uncle back to the table.

Two wands were laid out in front of Mom and Kingsley. A clear break of their most important house rule.

“We’ve got some news to share with you,” Mom said matter-of-factly while gripping their dad’s hand. “I’m taking a new job… in London.”

They stared at her dumbfounded.

“What do you mean exactly?” Tenley cut in.

“Kingsley has found me a great opportunity with the Ministry there and…” Mom stuttered a bit as she found the words. “I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Like…” Fitz questioned slowly, “the magic ministry?”

“Yes, well,” Mom explained, quickly grasping at straws, “I’ve thought it’s about time for me to pick it back up again.”

“She’s been practicing!” Dad said with pride. “It’s been quite a treat to see her magic in action.”

Ignoring him, Tenley asked, “So what does this mean for us?”

“Well, I can only commute internationally for so long,” she replied.

Dad patted his wife’s hand and said, “We’ve made the decision to move.”

It felt like the air had been removed from the room.

Nothing made sense.

“To London?!” Fitz exclaimed. “What about school?”

Tenley sat silently as the conversation continued around her. Her head spun with new information and empty explanations.

One thing was for sure.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

The moon provided just enough light for Tenley to survey all of the items scattered across her bed. It was almost time to put her plan in motion.

Tonight, her box braids were pulled high into a ponytail and she was fully-dressed in her hiking boots and corduroy jacket. It had been a few months since she’d heard the news, which had given her some time to prepare. She made a mental checklist of each item as she tucked them securely into her canvas pack: tent, map, extra socks, sunscreen-

Thump!

Tenley winced, and listened for movement outside her door.

When the moment passed, she slowly unclenched her eyes to find her Magic 8-Ball lying on the carpet. Gently, she picked up the old plastic toy and inspected the message in its inky blue triangle. Better not tell you now.

She rolled her eyes.

Terrance liked to remind her that man-made products were not reliable vehicles for divination, but his tea leaf readings hadn’t been much help either.

She gave it a shake.

Cannot predict now.

With a shrug, Tenley cast it aside and continued to pack.

Tenley tried to ignore the anxious flutter in her stomach. No matter how confident she was, it wasn’t easy. She didn’t want to leave them, but they had left her no choice.

Once satisfied that she had everything, Tenley buckled the leather straps, hoisted the canvas bag around her shoulders, then headed toward the door.

Slowly turning the knob, she paused to take one last look at the only bedroom she’d known. It felt foreign to her now. The chemically clean scent of Lysol and fresh paint now permeated the bare walls.

Over on her bedside table, she saw the numbers on her digital clock flip to 12:00.

“Happy Birthday,” she mumbled to herself.

With a silent goodbye, Tenley carefully closed the door behind her.

She glanced down the hall at her fourteen-year-old brother’s room. Fitz was surely sound asleep. If only there was a way to bottle that kid’s peace of mind for her own use.

Tenley crept down the stairs, hoping the hum of the refrigerator would drone out her footsteps. When she reached the bottom, her boots tip-toed across the kitchen tile to the front door. As she reached for the deadbolt, a voice made her blood run cold.

“Be honest.”

It was Mom. Her voice was quiet, yet close.

Tenley crouched low to the ground and scanned the dark entryway.

“And please don’t sugarcoat it this time,” Mom continued, always speaking like a member of high English society.

It sounded like she was right behind her. Confused, Tenley turned to see the front window open just a crack. She peeked over the ledge and spotted the silhouette of her parents lying together on the porch swing. Dad’s arms were wrapped around Mom as she rested her head on his chest.

“This is me being honest,” he assured, then leaned down to whisper into her curls. “You didn’t make this decision alone.”

Tenley rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was to hear her parents pat themselves on the back for uprooting the family. It was nonsensical. Selfish. Their sudden move seemed to be spurred only by some weird mid-life crisis.

Such bullshit.

Mom doesn’t touch magic their whole lives, then suddenly wants to work for a foreign wizarding government? How does that make any sense?

The timing was also less than ideal. They couldn’t wait until Tenley graduated from high school. No, she was expected to leave her normal education behind and start over at some magic boarding school. She offered up at least a half a dozen ways that she could stay in Bozeman. Unfortunately, they refused to listen to reason, so it was time for Tenley to take things into her own hands.

Tenley heard a sniffle, and her body stiffened.

From the window, she listened to her mom’s breath grow short and shaky. “I don’t want to do this,” Mom confessed.

Tenley’s stomach dropped. This was new territory.

With sudden urgency, her mom cried, “What’ll happen to us? What’ll happen to them?”

“Hey… hey,” Dad soothed. “You said it yourself. It’s just as dangerous if we do nothing. We can’t hide anymore.”

Stifling a sob, she said, “I just wish we could all be together.”

“Well maybe-”

She shook her head, then said solemnly, “If there was another way, we’d have done it.”

Dad held her close.

Tenley tried to make sense of what they were saying, but it was difficult to think through the blood rushing in her ears.

Mom finally steadied herself. “Do you ever think about… back when the kids were little-” she began. “Back when it seemed like we could shield them from it all?”

There was a deep pang in Tenley’s chest.

“Reyna… honey,” Dad chose his words carefully. “At some point, you’ve got to start trusting them. The world is a scary place. Ignoring that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I do trust them,” she affirmed. “I just... I want better for them.”

“That,” he kissed her forehead, “you’ve given them tenfold. In fact, I think our family is long overdue for a challenge. Don’t you think?”

Mom lifted her head to look directly at her husband.

Softly, she replied, “I’ll miss you.”

“Ah, you won’t have time to miss me,” he batted away. “You’ll be too busy brushing up on your witchcraft to miss a silly muggle like me.”

Mom shook her head with a smile.

Tenley had never heard her dad refer to himself as a ‘muggle’. She’d only ever heard Mom use it one time when a car cut her off in traffic.

“Now we better get to bed,” he said. “We’ve got a far greater challenge ahead of us. Surprising our seventeen-year-old daughter. Any ideas?”

Mom sighed, “I don’t think a cake is going to cut it this year.”

Guilt tried to creep into Tenley’s gut, but her stubbornness won out.

With bundles of nerves erupting in her stomach, Tenley focused on her instincts. She mapped out the house in her mind and decided on the next best escape route.

Still crouched low, Tenley scurried down the hall until she reached the door to the back porch. She slowly pulled it open without making a sound and slipped outside into the muggy August air.

The fence guarding their home stood a foot taller than her.

If only she had her wand, Tenley thought, she could blast a hole right through it, but she quickly shook the idea from her head.

It was time to leave magic behind.

She could survive without it.

Standing at the back corner, she flung her bag over the fence and heard it land with a deep thud. With a running jump, her hands grasped onto the top ledge, then she used the side post as a foothold to slowly hoist herself up.

Perched on top of the fence, Tenley took one last look at her childhood home, then lowered herself down to grab her canvas bag on the other side.

Breath heavy and anxious, she hurried along the sidewalk, careful to avoid the patches of light provided by the lampposts. Her racing thoughts were accompanied only by a symphony of cicadas.

It’s just as dangerous if we do nothing.

Her dad’s words echoed in her ears.

It made no sense. She had no clue what made them think that moving halfway across the world was their only choice. Why did her parents think it was dangerous, and why did it sound like they would be separated?

Nevertheless, these doubts only strengthened the creeping bitterness that came with being kept in the dark.

Tenley quickly made her way to Burke Park, which had the best view of the valley. Knowing all of the trails by heart, she began the familiar climb up Peets Hill, then stopped when she came to a fork in the path.

In the distance, she saw the outline of a dark figure standing next to a bench that looked out over the town. A slight warm glow came from a cigarette in its hand. She watched as the figure dropped the cigarette on the ground and smothered it with their shoe.

“I should’ve put money down on you pulling this shit,” Terrance called through the mountain air.

The sound of her tutor’s voice made her breathe a sigh of relief, but only for a moment. Bracing for combat, she slowly walked forward.

Terrance sat casually on the bench with his elbows resting on his knees. He gestured for her to sit too. His silk dress shirt looked out of place on the trailhead.

She set her pack down and joined him. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “What’ll it take for you to let me go?”

He rubbed his forehead with a smirk, then looked back at her. “I’m not gonna stop you, Tenley.”

“Great,” she replied, reaching for her canvas bag. “I’ll be on my way then.”

He put out his hand, then nonchalantly leaned back into the bench.

“What’s the plan exactly? You’re gonna hide for a few days and just hope that your family forgets about you?”

“I can take care of myself,” she affirmed. “I have a job and a place to stay…”

“And what’s that gonna prove, huh?” he challenged while resting his head in his hands. “No one’s doubting that you can survive on your own. Is this town really more important than your family?”

Tenley rolled her eyes. “They’re trying to send me to boarding school, Terrance! They want to take me out of the real world and force me to study magic. It breaks every pact we’ve ever made.”

“Listen,” he said sternly, “I don’t know why this is happening either, but I know your parents. They wouldn’t be doing something this drastic unless it was necessary.”

“What could be so important that we suddenly need to move to Europe?!”

“I guess that’s for you to find out,” he shrugged. “What’s so important that you need to stay so badly?”

Silently, they watched the stars glitter over the darkened mountains.

The only home she’d known.

“Happy Birthday, by the way,” Terrance offered while reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out a small gift wrapped in tissue paper and placed it in her hand.

Tenley tentatively unwrapped the paper to find a standard deck of cards. She looked up at him quizzically, “Really?”

“I’ve found they come in handy in more ways than one,” he said while taking the deck from her hands. Pulling out the cards, he casually shuffled them as he continued. “When I was at Ilvermorny, I started this underground-”

“I’m not going,” Tenley cut him off.

“Fine,” he laughed. “Find out for yourself… I think you’re just scared.”

He slid the cards back into the box and handed it back to her.

Her nails dug into the thin cardboard.

“What’s in it for you, huh? Why does it matter?”

“Listen, kid. Change is never easy. Stop trying to find the easy way out of it.”

“I’m not scared, Terrance.” She stood and faced him.

“You’d be crazy not to be,” he retorted, standing to meet her at eye-level. “I’ve got something else for you.”

Amidst the moonlight, she saw the unmistakable red hue and floral etchings of her wand in his hand. Skeptically, Tenley reached out and took hold of it.

“Like I said,” he smiled. “I’m not gonna stop you. However, I do think you should reconsider. Running doesn’t help anyone.”

A pang of shame struck her gut. Through gritted teeth, she declared, “I’m not running.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he replied.

Blood at boiling point, she threw her pack over her shoulder and began walking toward the trail.

“Tenley-”

She looked back just as sharp words escaped from her mouth.

“Is it too much to ask to be normal?” she seethed. “Do you know how hard it is to live in secret? To avoid getting close to anyone? Knowing that if I’m not careful, Kingsley will swoop in and erase memories again!” Shaking her head, she blinked back angry tears. “Magic is the problem. It has always been the problem. Why should I want anything to do with it?”

All signs of sarcasm and condescension drained from Terrance’s body.

“It’s not fair,” he affirmed softly. “But magic is not to blame.”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s a gift,” she warned. “It’s never felt like a gift.”

“Well, it’s most certainly not the curse you think it is,” he countered. “If you had grown up with other kids like you, you’d have thought nothing of the sort.”

“So that’s the answer?” she scoffed. “I need more exposure?”

“How about perspective?” he offered. “Instead of trying so desperately to fit in here, I suggest finding places where you don’t have to work so hard.”

“And that’s boarding school?”

Terrance shrugged.

“Or risk staying in the same place, expecting you’ll feel different,” he stated.

Tenley skeptically searched his brown eyes, but only found sincerity.

“Whatever you choose,” Terrance sighed, “I’ll always be in your corner.” He then pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Before she could respond, he disapparated into thin air.

Left alone, she sat on the bench, darkness enveloping her.

Only an hour before, she had felt so certain.

The last thing she wanted was for Terrance to be right, but his words had hit a nerve. He’d disrupted the heroic image in her head of living alone and forging her own path away from magic.

Running, he had called it, but she was no coward.

Anxiously tapping her wand on her knee, her strong-will wrestled with her conscience, but she wasn’t sure which sides they were on. Every direction felt wrong. Now matter how she framed it, it was a betrayal.

Betray her family or betray herself.

When the sun finally began to peek its head over the mountains, she begrudgingly picked up her pack and made her way back home.

She found the front porch vacant, so she quietly made her way through the main door and back up to her bedroom without causing a stir. She dropped her pack on the carpet and threw herself face down on her bed. Burying her head into her pillow, she gave a muffled groan, then rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

Among the dark shadows, a faint green glow caught her eye.

She squinted up at it and smiled.

One glow-in-the-dark star had survived.

They hadn’t managed to erase her entire childhood yet.

It seemed like just yesterday her mom had helped her arrange and paste a whole solar system of them across her ceiling.

“See that,” her mom whispered one night while tucking Tenley into bed. “That’s us,” she said, pointing to a cluster of stars. “The two little ones are you and Fitz, and then there’s Dad and I. All together, we’re the brightest star in the sky.”

It had always been the four of them against the world.

Tenley figured that even if running was now off the table, there had to be a better solution. Did they really have to ship her and Fitz off to boarding school?

Her body jolted as something cold brushed against her neck. She reached up and felt the familiar plastic shape of her Magic 8-Ball.

Amused, she held it up to the morning light.

It is decidedly so.

Tenley grimaced.

This was it. There were no more moves left.

She was going to Hogwarts.

A loud horn cut through the bustle of luggage carts and families saying their teary good-byes. Tenley stood still in her Peets High sweatshirt and stared up at the big red steam-engine.

She had made her decision, yes, but only time would tell if it was the right one.

Without warning, a hand caught her shoulder and pulled her into a tight embrace. Tenley breathed in the familiar scent of lavender as she burrowed her head into the crook of her mom’s neck.

“Trust me, love. You will be okay,” Reyna whispered in her ear.

Feeling the nerves radiating through her skin, Tenley wondered if her mom needed the assurance more than she did.

When she let go, Reyna moved her hands to Tenley’s shoulders.

Her mom’s new appearance still made her uneasy. Thick square frames now covered her face and her natural black curls had been dyed silver, which aged her significantly.

“Mom…” Tenley quietly uttered, “why are we doing this?”

“We’ve talked about this,” she pleaded. “This is what’s best for our family right now… And I’ve only heard wonderful things about Hogwarts. All you need to do is focus on school.”

It was the same speech she’d recited countless times already.

Reyna placed a cool hand along her daughter’s cheek, then her fingers moved to the front braid of hair that she’d recently helped Tenley accent with a gold string woven throughout. Behind thick frames, she gazed lovingly at her daughter.

Then, without warning, her tone turned serious. “Be careful,” she instructed, “and keep an eye on your brother.”

“Rebecca!”

Mom looked up to see a small witch in striped robes. “Ah Mafalda, good to see you. Sending your son off, are you?”

“I am! Can’t believe it’s already his seventh year,” she shook her head. “Did you get the report I sent you on Friday regarding the tourn-” She paused with a frantic glance at Tenley, then quickly shifted gears, “the new project?”

“Yes, I’ll tackle that first thing in the morning,” Reyna confirmed.

“Oh, how lucky the Magical Games department is to have you,” the woman beamed. then lowered her voice, “To tell you the truth, the witch who had this job before you couldn’t tell her arse from her elbow.”

“I’m glad that I can help,” Reyna nodded politely. “See you tomorrow.”

Tenley’s forehead crinkled as her mom turned back to her, “Rebecca?”

“No mind,” she quickly waved away. “Just trying something new.”

Baffled, Tenley said, “Moving halfway across the world wasn’t enough for you?”

“I don’t want to hear it, Tenley,” her mom sighed. “You know this has been difficult for all of us. If I could make this easier-”

“C’mon, Ten!”

She looked over to see Fitz’ brown freckled face poking out of a train window.

“I got us a seat,” her brother called.

“Just a minute, love!” Mom called back.

Her silver curls whipped around as she scanned the train platform.

A horn blared again.

Mom pulled her into another tight embrace, then leaned in close to her ear, “Between you and me, there are things happening this year you won’t wanna miss.”

She kissed the top of her head, then allowed Tenley to begin her funeral march towards the train.

* * *

Raindrops clung to the windowpane until they collided.

Tenley watched them race, falling faster and faster as the stream collected every drop in its path. Menacing formations in the distance were illuminated only by an occasional lightning bolt through the dark clouds. Amidst the storm, they could almost be mistaken for mountains, but she knew better.

Her hometown was a whole ocean away.

Tenley thought back to her dad’s parting words before they left for King’s Cross.

“It’s not gonna feel like home for a while,” Dad admitted. Her skeptical stare met his earnest blue eyes. “Doesn’t mean you can’t make the most of it, T-Leaf. Just take a look at those rolling green hills and think of the new adventure that awaits.”

Tenley sighed and pulled him into a big hug. His scruff brushed against her cheek. “Always the optimist…”, she muttered.

Now as she sat on the Hogwarts Express, she smirked at the heavy downpour that darkened the English countryside.

“Ten,” her brother’s carefree voice rung out.

She turned toward the fourteen-year-old who sat across from her in the small train compartment. Rather than his usual Chicago Bulls jersey and jeans, Fitz was already dressed in his new school uniform. With his thin frame now swimming in black robes, she thought he looked silly, especially considering his hair. Over the summer, he’d bleached the tips of his dense black curls to be blonde. However, it was comforting to see that his plastic Sony headphones still remained to be a permanent fixture on his head. At least some things never change.

He caught her eye while removing a foam circle from his ear, “Did you know we have to put on a hat?”

She raised an eyebrow, “A hat?”

“Uh-huh,” Fitz confirmed. “I’m listening to these guys talk about the sorting process, and it’s wild!”

“Great,” Tenley grumbled. It was bad enough that she was missing her junior year of high school, but worse to think that she’d have to go through some kind of sorting ritual. Arms crossed tight around her sweatshirt, she nodded toward the Walkman in his hands. “Learn anything else from wizard radio?”

“I’ve been going through recordings of Mystifying Mysteries to flag any segments that mention Hogwarts,” he said as he pushed buttons on the small device. Fitz took out his wand, and tapped the screen a few times.

“Found it!” he exclaimed. “From what I’ve heard,” he smiled up at her, “this place is a hotbed for unsolved crime.”

“Lovely,” Tenley said dryly as her eyes narrowed. “A glowing review of what Mom called the ‘safest place on earth’.”

Knock, knock! Startled, they turned toward the compartment door as it slid open.

“Anything else from the trolley?” greeted an elderly witch with bright red cheeks. She gestured to her large cart filled with afternoon treats.

“What do you think, Ten?” Fitz grinned, “Will a sugar quill cheer you up?”

Tenley’s cynical copper eyes met the lively blue eyes of her younger brother. He often reminded her of Dad. She shrugged, “I suppose a blueberry quill couldn’t hurt.”

“Ma’am, we’ll take an assortment of your finest quills,” Fitz exclaimed. “I’ve got another hour to survive with my sister.”

Tenley rolled her eyes as he searched his pockets for the proper wizarding coins.

The witch handed him a box of candy quills, and trotted toward the next compartment. Fitz inspected the multi-colored sticks of sugar and handed an electric blue one to Tenley. She allowed herself a moment of sugar-coated nostalgia.

“Have you thought about what house you’ll be in?” Fitz interrupted.

Tenley grimaced, “Nope.”

She had made all the arrangements to stay in Bozeman. It’d only been a few days since the reality had sunk in that she’d be attending this school.

“Why are we even here?” Tenley protested as Fitz selected a magenta quill from the box. “It makes no sense! Mom refuses to touch magic our entire lives. Not even to heal a paper-cut! Then one day, she wakes up and wants to work for the magical government? In London?” Shaking her head, she muttered, “It’s bullshit.”

Fitz considered this for a moment. “I guess people change,” he shrugged.

“Overnight? Into an entirely different person?” she exclaimed. “I swear, if this is her way of dealing with the fact that she never got to go to Hogwarts…”

“Ten,” his voice softened, “we’re transferring to one of the best wizarding schools in the world,” he pleaded. “Run by one of the greatest wizards alive. Remember when we would’ve killed to learn magic with other kids? Can’t you be a little excited?”

He was right. There was a time when she was jealous of those kids. Terrance would tell them loads of stories about the North American school. It sounded like a dream: potions class with Mr. Perez and all-you-can-eat lobster rolls. It wasn’t fair that her and Fitz weren’t allowed to go, and their parents never seemed to give a straight answer as to why it was necessary for them to stay home.

Thankfully, Terrance turned out to be a good teacher. But wouldn’t it have made more sense to go to a magical institution rather than hiding their lessons in the back room of the local rug shop?

For her brothers’ sake, she bottled her remaining complaints and mustered up a more casual tone, “Well then, what house are you gunning for?”

Sparks emerged from the sharp end of his sugar quill as he scratched his response in mid-air. Shimmering pink letters spelling “Ravenclaw” hung near the window, then dissolved as quickly as sugar on the tongue.

“That’s the bird, right?” she smirked.

“An eagle!” he beamed. “Founded by Rowena Ravenclaw. She prioritized wisdom and life-long learning.”

“Well, if that’s what they’re looking for, you better lower your expectations,” Tenley quipped, reaching over to ruffle his curls.

“Very funny," he said, rolling his eyes. “And you better change!” He tapped his wristwatch, “We’ll be arriving soon. You don’t want to give off any more reasons for people not to like you.”

Rising to her feet, Tenley scrawled “bite me” above her seat with the remaining tip of her sugar quill.

Fitz smirked at the flickering blue script, then returned his headphones to his ears.

Clutching her belongings in her canvas bag, Tenley stepped foot into the narrow train corridor. Faint chatter and a soft yellow glow seeped through the compartment doors that lined the hall. Tenley avoided peering into each cabin window that she passed.

Every few steps, she’d catch snippets of conversations. Students discussing reading requirements for herbology or leprechaun gold. Interesting, yes, but at this moment, she was only reminded of how different she was. Back home, they’d talk about the new Brandy CD or what to wear to the next football game. What the hell would she have in common with these people?

She darted through the train lavatory door and locked it behind her. Tenley set down her bag, and undressed near a mirror in the corner. She discarded her high-waist jeans and baggy sweatshirt onto the floor, then began piecing together her school uniform: a white button-down, a charcoal V-neck sweater, and dress pants. At least she didn’t have to change her shoes.

The chunky heels of her black boots gave her a boost of confidence.

Analyzing her reflection in the full-length mirror, she scowled. Tenley rolled up her sleeves to quarter-length, then toyed with her hair. Her curls were wrapped in thin black braids that cascaded down the middle of her back with one gold-accented braid that framed her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a necktie lying on a chair. She placed the black fabric around her neck. Rifling through the scattered clothes on the floor, she wracked her brain for the knot-tying charm.

No wand.

She moved to her canvas bag, checking every pocket. Her pulse spiked.

Nothing.

Tenley jammed the rest of her belongings into the bag and bounded for the door. Quickly moving through the train corridor, she thought back to the last time she had it. Was it even on the train?

To her left, a door slid open. Narrowly colliding with the emerging figure, she kept moving.

“Excuse me,” a low voice called out.

Tenley turned her head and stopped mid-stride. The stranger bent down to reach something lying in the hall.

As he rose, his gentle eyes met her gaze.

“It seems you forgot something,” he offered with a smile. Draped in his outstretched hand, she recognized her necktie.

“It seems I have”, she replied, moving back towards him. There was a warmth to his fair skin and golden-brown hair. Reaching forward, her fingertips grazed his palm. A slight shiver swept through her as she took hold of the smooth silk.

He looked curiously at the black tie in her fist. “You don’t wear your house colors?”

“I don’t have one yet,” she replied coolly, turning to leave.

He called after her, “I didn’t mean to assume!”

She hesitated, then allowed herself a quick glance back.

“We don’t get many transfer students,” he offered sheepishly.

Leaning casually against the wall, he rested his hands in his pockets. The lining of his robes was yellow and there was a badge on his chest marked with a ‘P’.

“Where’re you from?”

Tenley studied his sincerity, then took a breath. “Montana,” she stated. Then added, “- in the U.S.”

With a subtle nod, the gold in his brown hair flickered. “I had a feeling.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted.

He gave her a wide grin that reached his eyes. They were the color of steel. “I’ve already put my foot in it, haven’t I?”

She suppressed a smile. His accent tickled her ears.

He continued, “America’ s been on my list! My dad’s been before. I recall him talking about mountain trolls,” the corner of his lips lifted, “and some encounter with an alligator.”

The copper in her eyes lit up. “The mountains, I can tell you about,” she replied, her fingers lingering on the Yellowstone patch sewn to the front of her bag. She added playfully, “Alligators on the other hand...”

CRACK! A loud noise erupted and sizzling white lights raced towards them. Tenley jumped towards the wall as a wave of heat engulfed them.

Her hand felt for her pocket. No wand.

Through the glittering haze, she saw the shape of a rocket dancing down the hall.

“Avifors!”

A blue streak flew past her head. The spell hit the loose firework and transformed into a bird mid-air.

Adrenaline radiated from the boy’s body.

Tenley felt the heavy rise and fall of his chest. He was at her side, wand extended and brow furrowed. As they watched the amber-faced robin flutter and soar in circles through the air, his face began to soften.

Whispers emerged and grew louder as heads poked out of compartment doors, seeking the source of the commotion.

“Oi! Sorry about that everyone,” a lighthearted voice called from behind.

“Nothing to see here! Go about your business,” another joined in.

Two tall red-headed boys leapt down the hall, addressing the onlooking students and waving them off. Striped maroon and gold neckties hung loose around their wrinkled white button-downs.

They spotted the strong stature of the boy standing next to her and stopped dead in their tracks.

“Fred. George. It’s good to see you again,” he nodded to each of them. “Would the two of you know anything about this?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm, motioning to the thick smoke that hovered above them.

“Great question! I can’t say we do,” the twin on the left replied. He squinted, “Is that a bird I see? George, do you recognize that bird?”

“No Fred, I’ve never seen that bird before,” quipped his brother. “Looks like it’s caused quite a stir!”

“Why don’t we help out our fellow students and go inspect the scene?”

“Wonderful idea, Fred.”

When the twins started forward, he put out his hand.

“No one was hurt, so we’ll let it go.” He leaned in and lowered his voice, “But I’ll have to take away house points next time.”

“Always good to see you, Ced,” Fred moved past and patted him on the shoulder.

“Always a pleasure,” George followed. The twins continued on toward the other end of the train, bickering quietly with one another.

The corridor cleared once again as students lost interest and returned to their cabins.

Embarrassment quickly replaced the tension in Tenley’s chest. If only she had her wand, she wouldn’t have looked so incompetent.

A quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m afraid that wasn’t the warmest welcome to Hogwarts.” She looked up and caught the gleam of the boy’s grey eyes. “Hopefully, I can make it up to you.”

With a coy smile, she replied, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She took a few steps forward, then looked back, “I’m Tenley by the way.”

Tilting his head down to conceal a smile, he looked up through his lashes.

“Cedric,” he called. “It’s nice to meet you, Tenley.”

“You’d think they’d have a Plan B!” Tenley shouted through chattering teeth.

A thick downpour drowned-out her words as they climbed the stone steps toward the castle. She kept a firm grip on the handle of her wand. It was at least comforting to feel its intricate grooves back safely in her palm.

Once the train had arrived at Hogsmeade station, a giant bearded man corralled the new students and led them to a black lake on the verge of flooding. Water pelted them on all sides as their small boats rolled and lurched across.

Despite Tenley’s blurred vision, there was no mistaking the magnificence of the castle that loomed overhead. It stood strong amid the raging storm as it’s twinkling windows beckoned them forward. They arrived at the top of the steps and gathered outside a massive oak door. Their large leader knocked heavily and the castle doors swung open to reveal a stern woman in deep blue robes.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she said promptly, waving the soaked students inside.

“Yer welcome, Professor.” Hagrid boomed cheerfully. “There was some trouble on the lake, but this here’s the lot of ‘em.” His massive hand patted the head of a small mousy boy wrapped in a gigantic moleskin coat.

Tenley followed her brother through the front door. “If it weren’t for us,” she muttered, “that boy would still be in the lake.”

Fitz ignored her. Water dripped from his curls as he stood transfixed in the cavernous entrance hall.

Not even Tenley could deny it’s grandeur.

Torch-lit portraits adorned the walls while marble staircases moved slowly above their heads. She almost forgot about her sopping wet clothes. Almost.

She carefully wrung out her braids as they were led across the hall. Student’s shoes sloshed and squeaked until they reached a small empty classroom.

Fitz and Tenley stood taller than the rest as they shivered together in their drenched robes.

“Ten, what was that spell…? Fitz’ teeth chattered.

With an intricate wave, hot air surged from the end of her wand and encircled her. Steam wafted from her robes and eliminated the chill from her bones. “That one?” she smiled.

“Yes,” he exclaimed. “Some help would nice!”

Eleven-year-olds looked on in awe as she quickly dried his clothes.

He reached in his pocket and took out his Walkman. “Looks alright,” he mumbled, inspecting the screen.

Before she could offer her services to anyone else, the teacher hurried to the front of the room. All eyes were on the older woman with hair pulled back in a tight bun.

“We don’t have much time,” she began. Her voice rang out prim and proper. “My name is Professor McGonagall, and shortly you will be sorted into one of four honorable houses…”

Tenley felt silly. Here she was at seventeen about to join a magical fraternity that meant nothing to her. She leaned over to her little brother, who was just as tall as her now. Tenley whispered, “Do houses really matter?”

He ignored her. His eyes were focused on the professor as she explained the house point system.

Tenley tried again, “What one do I want to be in?”

This time, his shoulders shrugged.

“Ravenclaw sounds uppity as hell. Is there a more chill one?”

Annoyed, Fitz opened his mouth to respond.

“Miss Wright,” Tenley’s head turned to meet the professor’s stern gaze.

“America may have different customs, but I doubt giving students the authority to talk over teachers is one of them,” she asserted through thin lips. “I trust you will set a good example for the younger students around you.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. Tenley suppressed an eye roll and mustered up a polite, “Yes ma’am.”

“As I was saying, I hope each of you will be a credit to your new house,” Professor McGonagall continued. “Now, I believe it’s time. Form a line, and follow me.”

They waited for the younger students to pass by. Joining the back of the line, Tenley and Fitz looked more like chaperones than first-years.

As they walked, Fitz finally gave her an answer. “Hufflepuff. The founder pretty much accepted anybody.”

“Which one’s that? The lion?”

“Badger,” he corrected. “You really didn’t read up on this place, did you?”

Tenley grinned. “Why would I when I have you around?”

Muffled chatter grew louder as they approached the Great Hall. Large wooden doors swung open, revealing four long tables filled with students dressed in their corresponding house colors. Conversation faded and laughter hung mid-air as they were paraded to the front.

Tenley’s eyes were drawn upward. Amid thousands of glittering candles, the treacherous storm they had escaped was on full display. Skin growing hot under the gaze of the student body, she focused on the purple and grey clouds dancing high above.

Nearing closer, Tenley’s attention shifted to the odd and striking characters that lined the head table. There was a dazed woman cloaked in gauzy shawls, a small white-haired man sitting atop a pile of pillows, as well as a hooked-nose man wearing an unimpressed stare.

At the center, a silver-bearded figure in starry emerald robes beamed in their direction. This must be Headmaster Dumbledore.

Facing their new peers, the students assembled in front of the head table. Professor McGonagall conjured a small three-legged stool and a dusty worn-out wizard’s hat. Tenley’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s the all-knowing Sorting Hat?” she asked dryly.

Fitz laughed. “You try sorting kids for hundreds of years and see how you look afterward.”

The sudden bellow of a weathered old voice made her jump.

Tenley turned toward the battered hat. There was an opening at its base that moved like a mouth. It sang:

A thousand years or more ago,
When I was nearly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known
...

Tenley half-listened to the long poetic overview of the school as she waited for the dingy hat to decide her fate. She got the gist of it.

They would be sorted based on the Hogwarts founders most valued traits: bravery, cleverness, hard-work, and ambition. All admirable, she thought, but limited. Why would a person want to embody just one?

Tenley scanned the four tables. Where did she belong?

The Great Hall erupted in applause at the end of the Sorting Hat’s song, and she absent-mindedly joined in.

Professor McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment, and called out the first name, “Ackerley, Stewart!”

Shivering with wet clothes and fear, a small boy walked forward.

He sat with the Sorting Hat draped over his eyes for a brief moment before it rang out, “RAVENCLAW!”

Jumping to his feet, Stewart joined the celebrating table to the right adorned in blue and bronze. The smart ones, Tenley thought. The scholars.

“Baddock, Malcolm!”

Another boy stepped forward. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, the voice bellowed, “SLYTHERIN!”

The tone in the Great Hall shifted. There was a collective glare directed toward the silver and green-clad students celebrating on the far right. Among the weak applause from the other tables, Tenley swore she heard a hiss.

“Branstone, Eleanor!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Energy returned to the room as the young girl bounced toward her cheering section. Tenley’s eyes landed on the striped yellow and black neckties that lined the table. Her cheeks grew warm.
The memory of her recent train encounter flooded her mind.

With one nervous student after another, the sorting continued. The mousy boy, still engulfed by Hagrid’s coat, joined the rowdy Gryffindor table. Whenever Slytherin was called, Tenley felt tension in the air, but her attention remained elsewhere.

With each new Hufflepuff, Tenley allowed herself a casual survey of their table. It wasn’t until “Thorne, Philip!” that she caught sight of Cedric. He was leaning forward in quiet conversation with friends, his hair still wet and tousled from the rain.

“Wright, Fitzgerald!”

She looked up and gave Fitz an encouraging nod as he walked forward. Nearing the end of the list, Tenley was left standing next to one final first-year. She watched her fourteen-year-old brother sit down on the small stool, his knees bent at an awkward angle. Unlike the other kids, the hat didn’t fully meet his eyes.

After a minute that felt like forever, the hat bellowed, “RAVENCLAW!”

Fitz confidently strode to the blue and bronze table. She watched him shake hands with his scholarly cohorts. Tenley smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to join him? A familiar face would make the night more bearable.

Or, she thought with a sly grin, Hufflepuff wouldn’t be so bad.

“Wright, Tenley!”

Nerves electrified, Tenley carefully walked to the tiny stool. She sat with her legs crossed in front of her. Professor McGonagall gingerly placed the hat over her head.

Peering through the bottom of its wide brim, Tenley saw the sea of students turned towards her. She held her arms firmly across her stomach, and closed her eyes.

“Interesting…” a gravelly voice entered her mind. “Another Wright… but quite different from your brother,” the hat mused.

She pictured Fitz at the Ravenclaw table, happily chatting with his new peers. She felt a pang in her chest. Guess she wasn’t cut out to join him.

“I do not mean to insult your intelligence,” the hat croaked. “Just different. Not many your age have sat on this stool.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Ah, never for me,” the voice assured, “There’s just more to sort through. More memories. More fear.”

“Fear? You can’t be serious,” she challenged, ignoring the sweat beginning to bead across her forehead. “Those kids were scared out of their skin.”

The hat cackled, “And you think that disappears? I assure you. As you age, monsters only become more real.”

“That’s reassuring,” she winced. “Can we just get this over with?”

“I see patience is not your virtue,” the hat teased. “However, I also know preparation often is. Are you not going to make a case for your preferred house?”

Tenley thought back to her escape plan. She’d been prepared to stay in Bozeman.

The hat cut through her thoughts. “You will do well at Hogwarts.”

She internally scoffed, “I bet you say that to everybody.”

“Only when I’m sure,” it croaked. “I can tell by your ancestry alone.”

Her mind short-circuited, “Ancestry?”

The wizened voice continued, “It’s clear where your craftiness and foresight belong. Though I encourage you to stay diligent,” it advised. “With that shrewd judgement of yours, you’ll need to determine friend from foe.”

When the hat’s decision rang out across the Great Hall, cheers erupted on the right. She opened her eyes, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck.

Most of the onlooking faces had contorted to sneers. Rising slowly, she removed the hat from her head and looked toward Fitz. She saw him attempt a smile, but his widened eyes told another story.

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Pulse pounding in her ears, she approached her new table; the Slytherin table.

“There’s room over here,” a female voice called out. Tenley made her way to the open seat and sat down next to a girl with a thick braid of sand-colored hair. Her sun-burned cheeks accentuated the brown freckles that dotted her nose. On her robes, there was a badge marked with a capital “P”, like the one Cedric wore.

The girl gave her an encouraging nod before turning her head back towards a boy a few seats down. He was pale with sharp features and slick white-blonde hair. The students around him were all leaned forward to catch every word.

“It’s true,” he spoke in a hushed tone, eyes gleaming silver. “My father heard it from his friends at the ministry. They say it hasn’t happened for over a century…”

Tenley whispered to the girl, “What’s he saying?”

“A tournamen’ of some sor’,” she murmured back.

Smugly, he continued, “Durmstang’s in for sure. My father knows the headmaster.”

Applause erupted, and the final first-year trotted towards the Ravenclaw table. The surrounding Slytherins half-heartedly joined in as the hall filled with a buzz of conversation.

The freckled girl turned to Tenley with glee, “Finally, we get some kind of excitemen’ around here! Well, besides the basilisk… and the serial killer on the loose… but tha’ don’ count,” she rattled on.

Across the table, a spikey-haired boy with olive skin and heavy-lidded eyes groaned, “Haze, stop buying into everything that kid says. He just likes the attention.”

Before she could respond, the room fell quiet as attention shifted to the smiling headmaster standing with arms outstretched to welcome them. “I have only two words to say to you,” his deep voice rang out. “Tuck in.”

Loud chatter returned with a clatter of plates as heaping piles of food magically appeared along the table. Tenley helped herself to a bowl of roasted potatoes and made a mental note to stay away from the unfamiliar platter of meat that reminded her of hockey pucks.

“You don’ look like a first-year,” the freckled girl observed between bites.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Tenley smiled. “They’re putting me with the sixth years.”

Her eyes lit up, “Good! We need the numbers. It’s down to Camila, Avery, and me.” Looking across the table at a girl with an auburn pixie-cut, she sang, “Oi! Avery! Say ‘ello to our new dorm mate.”

Avery was focused on the book open over her empty dinner plate. She peered up, and gave Tenley a polite nod before returning to her page.

“She’s a quie’ one,” the freckled girl explained.

A bony arm reached across the table. “I’m Odin Sideris,” the spikey-haired boy offered. As she shook his hand, he said, “And your overly-eager tour guide is Hazel Crane.”

“Tenley,” she returned “Tenley Wright.”

“Wright…” He pondered, “Any relation to the mandrake-potters in Wales?”

“I doubt it,” she laughed. “Don’t think those grow in the U.S.”

Hazel exclaimed, “I thought you had a funny way of talkin’!”

Odin’s eyebrows raised. “You’re one to talk, Haze,” he teased, “At least she doesn’t speak like some muggle chimney sweeper.”

She rolled her eyes, then turned back to Tenley, “If Draco’s righ’, this’ll be a strange year for you to star’.”

“Yeah, you missed it,” A guy with tanned skin nudged Hazel’s side. “Says they’ll even cancel Quidditch.” His perfectly white teeth disappeared into a sneer, “Better be worth it.”

Hazel patted his burly shoulder, “You’ll get ‘em nex’ year.”

Tenley returned to her potatoes as Odin chimed in. “Guess you’ll have to find something else to talk about, Cass,” he smirked. “Can’t say I’m too torn up about it.”

“Ah shove it, Sideris,” Cass howled back, then looked around the table, “Anyone make it to the World Cup?”

Tenley looked up from her plate.

“My mom did,” she answered. They all turned to her, so Tenley explained. “She now works for the ministry’s sports department.”

“That’s brilliant!” Cass flashed his teeth, “Inside access! Did she meet the players?”

“Possibly…” Tenley thought back to the stress radiating from her mom over the past couple months. “Didn’t say much. She was focused more on what happened after the game. Lots of paperwork with all the tent damage and memory alterations…”

They quietly picked at their plates. Tenley made a mental note to avoid bringing up acts of terrorism at dinner.

Quidditch wasn’t exactly the best topic for her either. Despite her mom’s new career choice, her family only ever talked about basketball and college football. Although…

“Maybe I can get us all tickets to a game sometime,” Tenley offered.

Hazel’s sun-burned cheeks grew redder. “Amazin’,” she beamed and winked across the table, “As long as we can leave Odin behin’.”

He laughed, “I’ll be there just to cross you, love.”

“I’m in,” the other boy flipped his glossy curls in her direction, “The name’s Cass.”

Odin erupted. “Cassius Warrington of the Ogden Warrington’s,” he mockingly announced like a town-crier. “Heir to the firewhiskey fortune and future star seeker for Puddlemere United.”

He bowed low enough for his nose to touch his plate.

Hazel hid a laugh in her hand.

“Ah piss off,” Cass leaned forward to flick the top of Odin’s spikey head. With a wide grin, he added, “And I’m a chaser, you tosser.”

Tenley tuned out the next few minutes of Quidditch talk.

She took a deep breath and scanned the Great Hall. Most students were finishing their last morsels of pudding and cake.

Over at the next table, she caught sight of Fitz in deep conversation with a translucent woman in a long-sleeved gown. Tenley did a double-take.

Sure enough, her brother was talking to a ghost.

A few more rows down, she spotted Cedric.

His ruffled hair had returned to its usual golden hue. Mid-laugh, he turned his head and caught her eye. Locked in his carefree stare, an electric current buzzed through her body. She smiled.

Without warning, his face fell and he quickly turned away.

It stung.

An icy ache reverberated from her core.

“Why…” Tenley heard the word escape her lips.

“Why…” Odin repeated and turned to follow her gaze. “Why everyone hates us?” he offered.

Her head snapped to his.

She saw a glint of humor in his heavy-lidded eyes.

Hazel and Cass halted their conversation. Even Avery looked up from her book.

“How much time do you have?” Cass chuckled.

Hazel placed a gentle hand on her back. “Lotta history ‘tween the houses,” she explained.

“Doesn’t help that we’re better looking,” Cass added.

Just as Tenley opened her mouth to respond, a hush fell across the hall. The spirited headmaster stood at the front, ready to address them all again.

“So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention,” Headmaster Dumbledore began.

Tenley listened carefully to file away information on her required residence for the next year. Throughout the hall, there were subtle snickers at the mention of 437 items banned by Mr. Filch, and not-so-subtle gasps at the cancellation of this year’s Quidditch Cup. It was the brief mention of the forest that unsettled her most. Why was it off-limits?

A loud bang came from the back of the Great Hall. The large wooden doors were thrown open. A gruff weather-beaten man hobbled to the front.

Amid the sound of pelting rain, the hall held its breath. They watched the strange man with a restless blue eye join the head table. He was introduced as Professor Moody, their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

The lack of applause suggested Tenley wasn’t the only one unnerved by his entrance. Settling back into announcements, the room lit up with a renewed energy at the mention of the Triwizard Tournament.

“You’re JOKING!” called a far-off voice. Laughter filled the hall. Across the room, Tenley thought she recognized the firework twins among the Gryffindors.

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,” the headmaster chuckled, “though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer...”

“Welcome to Hogwarts”, Odin muttered across the table, “led by a batty-old fool.”

“I thought he was some kind of genius?” Tenley whispered back.

Hazel and Cass shared a look.

She focused back on the silver-bearded man as he described the upcoming competition. Maybe he wasn’t as great as everyone cracked him up to be?

Tenley noticed her tablemates sit up straighter as he listed the prizes at hand: the glory of their school, a thousand galleons, and the Triwizard Cup.

The excitement was short-lived by the mention of an age limit. However, amid the vocal complaints and protests, Tenley breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad it isn’t mandatory,” Tenley stated as the Slytherins filed out of the Great Hall. She figured there was a better way to prove to her parents that she shouldn’t be at Hogwarts. One that did not involve dying in a dangerous tournament.

“Oh, I’m definitely entering!” Cass announced, puffing out his chest. “What about you, Haze?”

With a lowered head, Hazel sighed, “Don’ turn seventeen ‘til the spring.”

Odin placed a reassuring hand on her back. “Look on the bright side, love,” he said with a hint of sincerity. “We can still watch Cass make a fool outta himself.”

They laughed together as Cass put him into a playful headlock.

Tenley tried to create a mental map of the school as they continued through the castle. It appeared this place would be a far greater challenge than Montana’s annual corn maze.

Passing the large marble staircase, they descended down stone steps that led to an enclosed corridor with medieval torches lighting their way.

As if Tenley needed any more confirmation that she had been sorted into the most hated house, here she was, about to sleep in a dungeon.

“Hazel,” a voice called from behind them. “Hazel Crane!” They turned to see the head of a round-faced girl pop out of the sea of black robes. Swimming through the crowd, she was heavyset with straight black hair and bangs.

“Nice of yuh to show up,” Hazel called back. “Where yuh been?”

“What can I say? I’m in high demand,” she smirked, then waved away. “No time for that. We have a new-”

She spotted Tenley and stopped herself.

“-professor,” the girl concluded. “Yes, let’s chat about the new dark arts professor.”

She grabbed Hazel’s hand, and Tenley watched as they ran ahead. In their shadow, she noticed the quiet girl, Avery, trailing close behind.

“Classic Camilla,” a voice sighed.

Tenley turned to see both boys wearing the same amused expression.

“Better watch out for that one,” Cass warned with a flash of his teeth, “She’s always got something brewing.”

Side-by-side, Tenley noted that the boys were an odd pair.

Cass was built like a male model with tanned skin, bleached teeth, and silky curls. Even though Odin stood taller, he was lanky with arms that looked like broomsticks in comparison. His dark eyes and gelled spikes were a stark contrast to his pale skin. He gave the impression that he’d be more likely to vandalize a billboard than be pictured on one.

They continued on down the corridor. The walls were cold and bare except for the occasional wooden door. Eventually, the students slowed to a stop and Tenley heard a rattle of rocks up ahead.

Reading her mind, Odin explained, “That’s the entrance to the common room.”

Hitting an invisible barrier, he stopped. Tenley and Cass followed suit as other students continued to pass by.

Odin pointed two fingers at Tenley, “You’ve never been here before.”

“Correct.”

Odin rubbed his chin. “…and Camy abducted your prefect.” He grinned up at Cass, “I guess we’ll have to take over as tour guides.”

Tenley shook her head. “Don’t worry,” she assured, “I’ll be alright.”

“Smart not to trust us, Tenley,” Odin winked. “Although, you might want a bit more information before running off on your own.”

When they watched the last student be swallowed by the dark passageway, the surrounding stones began to shift and twist. Tenley stared as the opening to the common room disappeared within a few seconds.

She walked forward and touched the solid stone wall.

“How…” she began. Walking back and forth, she inspected the dungeon corridor. There were no markings to indicate that a door had been there.

“You need a password,” Cass called from behind.

“Figures,” she muttered. “How do I find this spot again? Count my footsteps?”

“Not quite,” Odin’s lips lifted slightly, “The location of the door changes too.”

She stared at them. “You’re kidding.”

“Believe me, you’ll be glad for the extra security,” Cass replied.

The scowling faces across the Great Hall came to mind. Her stomach dropped at the thought of one disappointed face in particular.

“It’s easier than you think,” he assured, flashing a wide smile. “Way easier than Ravenclaw. They’ve got to solve a bloody riddle every time.”

She smirked. At least there was something she could hold over Fitz’ head.

“The floor helps the most,” Odin advised. “You can feel it as you walk. The closer to the entrance, the more rocky it becomes.” Sure enough, as she walked across the hall she felt the subtle change in terrain under her boots.

Cass stepped forward, “The wall will help too”. She followed his thick pointer finger as he traced a large “S” along the stone. There was a trail of bricks that were slightly darker than the rest. Once she saw the pattern, she couldn’t unsee it.

Turning toward Odin, Cass asked, “The fifth years got to pick the first password, right?”

He nodded, then leaned forward to whisper it in Tenley’s ear.

“Go on,” he shooed her forward, “Test it out.”

Nose crinkled, she whispered back, “What does that even mean?”

They both smiled.

“Not a Viktor Krum fan, I take it.” Cass smiled, “Refreshing, really.”

Unsure if she was falling for some trick, she turned back to the wall and quietly uttered, “Wronski Feint.”

Thankfully, the scrape of stones applauded her as bricks twisted and shifted apart. At the sight of the archway, she breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the darkness.

Her boots echoed around her as a faint green glow seeped closer and closer. Cass and Odin followed close behind.

They came upon a cloth barrier.

Tenley heard muddled voices within. She tried to peer through the seams, but before her next breath, a hand reached out and pulled back the curtain.

Tenley was transported back in time.

Gilded ceilings stood tall above her as she stepped forward onto a weathered rug. It felt like an underground museum or an ancient mausoleum. Light poured in from floor-length windows that cast an emerald hue across the cavernous room.

“Over here.” Odin led them down granite steps into the heart of the common room.

Gentle wisps of burning incense sauntered through the air, and Tenley breathed in its sweet and smokey scent. Pockets of students lounged around in quiet conversation with each other. They passed an unmanned piano playing a delicate dance of chords, and a crackling fire surrounded by black leather couches.

SNAP! A flash ignited like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.

The explosion quickly evaporated into a puff of smoke to reveal a crowd watching a card game between two students. Tenley thought she saw traces of soot on their noses.

Cass and Odin led her to a vacant corner of the room that was only occupied by a younger boy writing under a stained-glass lamp.

She joined them around a table that reminded her of a museum display case. Through the glass, she spotted a haul of random artifacts, including a bejeweled hairbrush and some kind of animal skull. She felt something brush past her leg, and a silver cat hopped up on her lap.

“That’s Matilda,” Cass grinned. “She’s more clever than all of us.”

“More clever than Cass for sure,” Odin countered.

Tenley ignored them. Large green eyes stared up at her as she stroked the cat’s sleek fur. “It’s nice to meet you, Matilda,” she whispered as the cat nuzzled her nose.

A paw reached up to bat the gold-accented braid that hung in front of Tenley’s eyes. Then, without warning, long fingers wrapped around Matilda’s stomach and carried her off. She felt the absence of the cat’s weight on her lap.

Tenley looked up to see the younger boy settling back into his chair with Matilda at his side. He had a handsome face accentuated by a shaved head. His black skin was similar to her own, which Tenley found reassuring. She was beginning to think that Hogwarts was just as white as Montana.

“S’alright Blaise,” called Cass. “She wasn’t bothering us.”

The boy’s stone face nodded back, then returned to his quill.

Odin leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Watch out for that one.” He nodded towards Blaise, then muttered, “In fact, I’d watch out for everybody in his year.”

“C’mon. Let it go, man.” Cass slapped him on the back. “You’ve had it out for those kids ever since they got here. What are they now? Fourth years?”

Tenley’s ears perked up. “What’s so bad about them?” she whispered.

Cass jumped in first. “Oh nothing. He’s just upset that they never joined our-”

He stopped mid-sentence as Odin’s dark eyes bored into him.

“Study group,” Odin offered dryly.

“Right, right, study group,” Cass echoed, then quickly moved on. “I’m telling you, mate. No reason to make it personal. Hell, if it wasn’t for Malfoy, I wouldn’t have my Nimbus 2001.”

“Lovely, Cass,” Odin breathed through gritted teeth. “Glad to hear that’s how you judge character these days. By how much daddy’s money is thrown around.”

Cass rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a prat. If that’s the case, what would I be doing with the likes of you?” He shook his friend’s shoulder with a wide grin.

Off to the side, a tiny flapping in the distance caught Tenley’s eye.

A bright pink jetstream zoomed closer and closer until a small bird came into focus. She watched it gracefully land atop Cass’s caramel curls.

On closer inspection, the fluttering pink wings were made of paper.

“Ow!” Cass yelped as the sharp beak pecked at his scalp. His fingers flew up and the origami crane crumpled in his large fist. “Wish she’d stop doing that,” he mumbled as they watched him unfold the pink paper.

After a quick scan of the note, he threw his arms out into a wide stretch and grasped the armrests to lift his large mass out of the chair.

“I’ll be back,” Cass announced and tossed the note on the table. Turning towards her, he said, “Tenley, don’t let this guy scare you off. Just tune him out like the rest of us do.” He gave her a wink before strutting to the other end of the room.

Her eyes followed him until he disappeared behind an old mural.

Tenley took a quick glance of Odin. He was busy polishing a wand handle with the corner of his robe. She quietly swiped the pink note from the glass top and smoothed out the crinkled paper on her knee.

A messy scrawl of black ink read “Be ready in ten. Can’t find the stash.”

Mind buzzing, Tenley returned the crumpled note to the table and sunk back into her chair cushion.

“Is this redwood?” Odin casually questioned.

Her black braids swung with the snap of her head. The cinnamon-colored carvings of her wand stood out among Odin’s spindly fingers.

She lunged forward, but he moved it out of her reach.

“Relax,” Odin rolled his eyes. “Here,” he reached across his chest and extracted a daintier wand that almost blended into his olive skin. He tossed it to her.

“You can hold onto mine. Willow, eight and a quarter inch with the heartstring of a Peruvian Vipertooth.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but there was unmistakable pride brewing under the surface. “Passed down for generations.”

Internally, she groaned. How fitting, she thought, for wizards to find status in the make and model of their wand.

Nevertheless, she did find the stark difference between their wands intriguing. His was lighter than she was used to. Springy and smooth. Unlike the tiny leaf-like carvings in the base of her wand, the natural curvature of the willow was on display.

As he turned her wand over in his hands, she noticed an ornate silver band wrapped around his wrist.

Odin tried again, “It’s redwood, isn’t it? We don’t see many around here.”

Tenley nodded. “Ten inches. Wampus cat hair. “

“Redwoods are good luck,” he affirmed with a nod before offering it back to her. She quickly accepted the trade, noting that it was the second time she’d been without her wand in one night.
Odin continued, “Probably since they’re rare, but I like to think it’s due to their longevity.” He looked off into the distance. “They survive everything… bugs, fungus, fire. One kind even needs fire. It’s the only way it can sprout. Can you imagine? A tree’s life that depends on everything burning down around it?”

There was a hint of amusement in Odin’s tone. Tenley searched his face for the right response. He was a puzzle that she wanted to crack.

Suddenly, the music changed. Delicate chords were overtaken by the obnoxious sound of someone sliding their hand across the deepest piano keys up to the highest octave. Conversation trickled to a stop, and the room plunged into darkness.

There were a handful of gasps and the patter of anxious footsteps.

Tenley could only see outlines of shadowed figures due to the calming green glow that seeped through the cathedral windows.

“Ladies and gents. Fine witches and wizards,” a hearty voice reverberated through the hidden cavern. “It’s time for a toast.”

The room reappeared in an instant, and a small bulb-like glass quivered right in front of Tenley’s nose. A dark red liquid sloshed within.

She quickly steadied it with both hands and caught a strong whiff of alcohol. Looking around, Tenley watched as others tamed their own floating cocktails.

One glass with a mind of its own, kept flying out of reach. An older student finally lunged from a couch to grab it. When she finally caught hold of it, a cheer erupted.

“Friends, new and old, welcome to another year!”

Tenley followed Odin’s gaze to the top of the granite staircase. A girl towered over the crowd. Her rosy face was framed by black bangs and straight black hair that fell down her back. It took Tenley a moment to recognize her as the same girl who pulled Hazel away earlier. Her heavyset frame was now draped in a shimmering dress that showed off her legs, and both hands were adorned with rings and bracelets.

“Looks like we managed to pass the whiskey without too much damage,” she beamed with a charming lilt to her voice.

“Good catch, Seri,” she winked. “Too bad we don’t get a quidditch season this year. You could give Draco a run for his money.” There was a scuttle of laughter around the room, including a satisfied humph from Odin.

“For those of you who don’t know, my name is Camilla Inkwell. Now in my sixth year - blimey, hard to believe - and proud to carry on this well-worn tradition.” This was met with an applause of clinking glass.

“We thought we’d spice it up this year with the help of our good friend Ogden,” Camilla raised her whiskey in the air to louder clinks and whistles.

Near the bottom of the stairs, Tenley caught sight of Cass’s large build. He leaned down to whisper in Hazel’s ear.

Camilla continued her speech. “Now in all seriousness, let’s raise a glass to those who will be entering the Triwizard Tournament. Wouldn’t that trophy look wonderful on our mantle?”

Once the applause died down, her encouraging tone shifted into a playful smirk. “At the very least, we know there’s no way for the headmaster’s pet to steal the show.”

Amongst a sea of snickering, a voice called out, “Bet the age limit was just to make sure Dumbledud didn’t hand-pick him!”

Laughter filled the room.

Puzzled, Tenley looked over at Odin. Already in the middle of sipping his whiskey, he waved her off, then sighed, “Another time.”

“Finally, let’s drink to our first years. Enjoy the rich history that lives in these walls, and may you bring honor to the Slytherin name.” She lifted her goblet in the air. “Cheers.”

Joining her fellow housemates, Tenley raised her glass and gulped down the red liquid. She forced herself not to react as the taste of barrel-aged firewood and burnt cinnamon seared her throat.

As the grand piano resumed its tune, Tenley watched Camilla bounce down the steps into the arms of her friends. Hazel and Camilla wore big smiles as Cass mimed the scene of the drink being caught in mid-air.

Tenley felt a burning in her chest. She told herself it was the firewhiskey, but it was accompanied by something else. A hollowness that she’d grown accustomed to.

“That’s our Camilla,” Odin sighed. “Always finding a way to liven things up around here.” He took another sip of whiskey.

“You can go join them,” Tenley offered quietly. “I don’t mind.”

Odin considered this for a moment. “Not worth it,” he shrugged. “When those three are together, they tend to forget other people exist.”

Tenley gave him a solemn nod. “Bet that get’s old.”

With a chuckle, he said, “Tell me about it.”

Then, his dark eyes softened.

“Truth is, they’re the best I got. Wouldn’t trade them for anything.” He downed the rest of his drink.

“Enough of that.” Odin cleared his throat, and shifted back into his mock announcer voice, “Tenley, tell me more about this foreign land of yours.”

“Bozeman?” She laughed. “Don’t know how much there is to tell.”

“Your mum works for the ministry. Impressive. What about Mr. Wright?”

“Oh, he’s a professor -”

Just then, Cass’s large build appeared with a bottle in hand. “Where are your glasses? We’re celebrating!”

Without hesitation, he began pouring. Tenley quickly held out her drink just in time to catch the stream of smokey red liquor.

“To our good health, and that Haze and I didn’t make total fools out of ourselves,” he laughed. “Hadn’t tried that spell in a while. No telling which of us spilled the most Ogden!”

Holding out his empty glass, Odin asked, “Where’d they get off to?”

“Decided to retire early, I guess,” Cass answered.

His dark eyes narrowed.

“We’re talking about Haze and Camy, right?”

After filling Odin’s glass to the brim, he shrugged. “I dunno. Said something about beauty rest or whatever.”

Tenley eyed the large glass of liquid campfire.

“What a day!” she exclaimed, setting down her drink. “I think it’s about time to find my bed.”

Cass flashed his teeth at her, “Your loss.” He pointed across the room. “Take the staircase on the right. You’ll see a number six on the door.”

Turning to leave, she heard them mutter with a clink of glass.

“Girls…”

* * *

Stone steps spiraled and snaked deeper underground.

Tenley counted three full rotations until she landed on a circular platform surrounded by medieval wooden doors. They looked nearly identical. She walked toward the center one and touched its handle.

“Ow!” She ripped her hand away. The iron was red hot. As she nursed her seared skin, Tenley’s eyes fell on the roman numeral “IV” burned into the wood.

“What kind of archaic magic….” She scowled, then moved to the right.

Passing by the next door, she found the sixth roman numeral, “VI” marked on the one over. Reaching for its handle, Tenley hesitated.

She looked around and meticulously counted each door again.

Assured, she took a deep breath and grasped the handle. The iron remained cool. With a sigh of relief, she pushed the heavy door open with a loud creak.

It was pitch dark inside.

Tenley instinctively felt the wall for a light switch, then thought better of it. “Lumos,” she whispered.

A bright white beam emitted from her wand. It illuminated a long hallway with no end in sight.

On the left, her light fell into a large cove cut into the stone wall. She moved her wand closer to reveal a bare bed post. The wooden slats looked big enough for a twin-sized mattress. At the foot of it, she recognized the beat-up trunk that she’d recently been given as a gift.

“Charming,” Tenley muttered while stepping into her new cave.

Her wand light found a wooden dresser, as well as a nightstand with a water jug. Along the walls her fingers grazed empty shelves carved into the stone.

Despite the dungeon-chic, she accepted that the space had potential. However, there was still one glaring issue. Where was her bed?

A few steps down the hall, she found a similar scene, but far more crowded. This cove was a mini-library. Books of various shapes and sizes filled each crevice in the wall. Stacks covered most of the floor, including under the wooden bed frame.

Continuing on, Tenley cast light on two more coves. One with pieces of parchment covering the walls and then an even messier one with overflowing piles of boxes strewn about. Still, no bed and no roommates.

The quiet closed in around her as she felt the hair raise on the back of her neck.

“Hello?” Tenley called out.

A trail of candles ignited on each side of her.

The shadow of a large form appeared in the distance. As she followed the path deeper into the room, the outline of a dark canopy slowly came into focus. Tenley shone her wand at the cloth barricade.

She tried again, “Anyone in there?”

No response.

Pulse pounding in her ears, she poked her wand through an opening and slipped inside.

The room lit up, and suddenly, Tenley was caught in a tornado of glittering confetti. She heard an enthusiastic “Surprise!” as the silver paper began to settle back into the plush carpet,
Tenley gazed around the spacious tent illuminated by orbs of hazy pink light. Fabric of all kinds were draped throughout, including a long banner at the back that read “Welcome Tenley” in sprawling script.

Hazel’s sunburned freckles appeared as she skipped over and threw her arms around her. “Yuh made it! We were just talkin’ abou’ how long tuh wait before savin’ yuh.”

“Come join us!” Camilla called from a lounge chair. Her round face was free of makeup and her black hair had been pulled back into a loose bun. “You ought to change into some comfier clothes though.”

Tenley looked down at her school robes, and suddenly felt overdressed. Both of them were already in pajamas.

She quickly scuttled back to her cove among the candle light and opened her trunk.

In the distance, she heard Hazel’s voice echo down the hall, “What tea would yuh like? We got hibiscus nettle or juneberry min’.”

“Oh uh..” she hesitated while pulling off a black boot, then called back. “Let’s do the nettle!”

Once properly dressed in sweatpants and a Montana Bobcats t-shirt, her bare feet pattered back across the hardwood to the tent. She re-entered the pink cocoon and joined Hazel and Camilla among the oddly-shaped couches.

“Wonderful to meet you, Tenley,” Camilla beamed as Tenley sat across from her on the green velvet. “Thought we’d welcome you with one of our favorite traditions.”

“I swear Camy outdoes ‘erself each time.” Hazel laughed as she handed her a cup of purple tea. “Yur sittin’ on two mattresses an’ a curtain righ’ now.”

“Impressive,” Tenley replied as she let the cup warm her hands. She meant it. No blanket fort that her or Fitz made had ever come close to this masterpiece.

Camilla waved the compliment away, “Just a little something I whipped up. I could do better with more time.” She finished steeping her own tea, and called out, “Ave, can I pour you a cup?”

A small voice called back, “I’m good.”

In a bedsheet strung high above like a hammock, Tenley could see an auburn head peeking out. Avery’s hand reached out to turn the page of her book.

Tenley felt eyes on the back of her neck.

“So tell us about yourself,” Camilla offered between sips of tea.

“Oh, uh…” She rubbed her neck, “what do you want to know?”

“C’mon then!” Hazel exclaimed. “What’s a American witch doing ‘ere in ‘er sixth year?”

Tenley gave a snort, “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

Camilla’s smile contorted to the side as she studied her. “So you transferred from Ilvermorny?”

“Homeschooled actually,” Tenley shrugged, then added with a laugh, “by the local magician.”

Puzzled, Hazel asked, “Magician? Like, muggle magic?”

“No, no. Well… kind of.” She searched for a way to explain. “The town doesn’t know he’s a real wizard.”

Camilla’s eyes narrowed. “So let me get this right,” she stated. “Your tutor takes money from muggles by doing bloody magic tricks for them?”

She nodded. “That’s Terrance.”

After a long pause, Camilla grinned up at her. “It’s brilliant, really. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Tenley smiled politely as both Hazel and her shared a laugh.

Avery’s quiet voice piped up, “So you lived among them?”

Her book was closed, and she had propped up her head over the hammock.

“People without magic? Sure,” Tenley answered. “Even went to school with them.”

“How does tha’ work exac’ly?” Hazel questioned. She scrunched up her sunburned freckles. “Weren’ they afraid of yuh?”

“Afraid…?” Tenley paused. Her smile slowly faded as a picture of flames formed in her mind. “They didn’t know about my magic. Statute of Secrecy and all.”

“I don’t think I could do it,” Camilla admitted. “Was it even possible to make friends?”

Looking down at her tea, Tenley assured them. “I was just busy. Not much time for a social life when you’re learning both geometry and charms.”

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Tenley looked up to meet Camilla’s comforting green eyes, “Well, you’re in good company here.”

“Here, here!” Hazel joined in. After a slurp from her cup, she added, “Yuh know, Tenny, I keep feelin’ like I’ve seen you before.”

“I was thinking the same thing!” Camilla added. “Do you have any family around that we’d know?”

“It’s possible,” Tenley considered. “Barely know anything about my mom’s side,” she admitted, then offered up. “I’ve got an uncle that works for the ministry though.”

Tenley took a final swig of tea and stifled a yawn. “What time is it?” she asked.

Camilla sighed, “Probably time to put all this back.” She stood up and tapped her wand on her chin while looking around the room.

“Wait a secon’,” Hazel exclaimed. “Don’ forget tuh look at your cup!”

With a childish grin, Camilla leapt back down on the couch. “How could I forget. What does yours say?”

Hazel held her teacup up to her freckled face and squinted. “Eh, the juneberry is always too ‘ard tuh read. Tenny, let’s see yours.”

Skeptical, she handed over her cup.

“That’s bettuh,” Hazel mumbled while inspecting the inside remnants. “I always ‘ave trouble with this one though.” She looked up at the hammock, “Ave, take a look at this.”

Focused back on reading, Avery reached out her hand without looking away from her page. Hazel placed the teacup in her palm. They waited for her to finish her paragraph before studying the leaves.

Hazel called up, “It’s love, innit?”

“Misery,” Avery clarified.

Camilla rolled her eyes, ”I swear that’s all you ever see.” She ran over and swiped the cup from Avery’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Tenley waved them off. “I don’t hold a lot of stock in it anyways.”

Camilla laughed, “Oh let us have a bit of fun! It’s not a perfect magic, but it sure beats crunching numbers.”

“Although…” Her lips twisted to the side as she sat back down. “Avery’s right. See how it curves here.”

She turned the cup toward Tenley, so she could see the dark purple pattern pooled at the bottom.

“It’s the Sphinx.”

Tenley’s brow furrowed. “The winged lion? Why would that mean misery?”

“Muggles branded them as female monsters. Deadly tricksters. So, it’s fitting this prophecy is named after them,” Camilla explained. Her gleeful green eyes grew serious, “It means love tied to devastation.”

“Hey!” Hazel hollered, “I said love, didn’ I?”

With a laugh, Camilla jumped back on her feet and gave the cup back to her.

“Best be careful out there, Tenley,” she gave a wink. “Is it ever really worth it?”

* * *

Enveloped by the soft sheets of her new bed, exhaustion clouded Tenley’s mind.

Her body urged her to sleep as images swirled behind her eyelids: moving staircases, floating whiskey, and a glittering rocket. Then, steel grey eyes.

She saw the sharp line of his jaw, and the flecks of gold in his hair. She could still feel the pounding of Cedric’s chest against hers.

Tenley dug her head in her pillow, and tried to force it away.

The sorting hat’s words reverberated in her head, “...you’ll need to determine friend from foe.”

It sounded like a warning.

The morning sun crept towards Tenley as she slept.

It slowly made its way up her chin, then over her brown cheeks and nose. When it burned her eyelids, she groaned and threw a pillow over her face.

“Knock, knock,” a voice called, and a curtain slid open.

“I thought we were underground,” Tenley grumbled.

“A good mornin’ to yuh too.”

She pried her eyes open and saw Hazel smiling in the doorway. Sandy waves flowed down her back and silver broomsticks dangled from her ears.

“Believe me, enchan’ed windows help brigh’en this place up a bi’,” she said, then threw her hands in the air. “Brekkie time! Ge’ a move on!”

As Hazel disappeared down the hall, Tenley took a deep breath and hoisted herself into a sitting position. Daylight warmed the little cave, and illuminated the emerald velvet draped throughout the room. Her bare feet sunk into the rug as she searched the floor for clothes she discarded the night before.

They were gone. Instead, Tenley found her school uniform neatly folded on the top of her trunk. The lining of her robes had turned green.

Maybe the magic world wouldn’t be so bad after all, she thought.

In front of a mirror, her fingers lingered over the snake crest now sewn to her chest. Tenley draped the silver and green necktie across her shoulders. With a flick of her wrist, the two ends looped together to create a perfect knot.

She directed her wand at her scalp and whispered, “capillus levis.” Her thin black braids smoothed and tightened to her natural curls. With a frown, Tenley stared at the gold strand that framed her face. It now clashed with her house colors.

“How’s it comin’?” Hazel called.

Tenley grabbed her canvas bag, and stepped out into the hall.

“Glad to see yuh in the propuh colors!”

Hazel was standing by the door with Avery at her side.

She followed them up the spiral staircase and back through the common room corridor. Once they made their way to the Great Hall, Tenley noticed Fitz sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table with his Walkman in hand.

“I’ll catch you later,” she said and made her way over.

As she sat down next to her brother, she moved the headphones from his blonde-tipped curls.

“Hey!” Fitz yelped, then relaxed at the sight of her. “Oh hey, Ten”.

His school robes now matched the surrounding Ravenclaws, except his blue and bronze tie hung loose around his neck. Fitz remained focused on his radio screen while Tenley used her wand to retie it into a respectable knot.

“You know there are real people around you can talk to,” she advised.

As he continued to press buttons, he mumbled. “I’m looking for this one episode of Mystifying Mysteries. I swear I recorded it…”

“Settle into your dorm alright?” she asked.

His head perked up. “Ten, it’s incredible,” he gushed. “We’re up high in this tower where you can basically see the whole view of the grounds. You have to see it.”

A girl sitting near them intervened, “Common rooms are only for house members.” She gave Tenley a disapproving once-over.

“Really? Can’t my sister just-”

The girl looked away, shaking her head.

With a shrug, Tenley grabbed a biscuit. She noticed a Ravenclaw hesitate and choose to sit a few feet away from her.

“Tough crowd,” she smirked.

Fitz’ eyes grew big and sympathetic. He leaned closer to her, “Slytherins don’t have the greatest reputation around here.”

“I got that part,” she said with her mouth full.

He chose his words carefully. “They’re known to have close ties to the wizarding war…” His voice lowered to a whisper, “And Voldemort.”

“C’mon,” Tenley replied. “That was ages ago. Can’t everyone just move on?”

“I don’t know, Ten…” His brow furrowed as he tried to explain. “They won’t even say his name.”

She smiled, “What? Will his ghost appear if you say it three times fast?”

“Ten, it’s serious,” he scolded. “A lot of people died, and his followers all came from Slytherin. Just be careful.”

Tenley rolled her eyes. “So far, this crowd only seems guilty of enjoying pillow forts and firewhiskey, but I’ll be on high alert for any evil pep rallies,” she teased. Then, she shook her head in frustration. “Can’t believe I gotta deal with this on top of everything else. It’s not like I asked to be put in this house! Hell, I didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

Fitz whispered. “Did the Sorting Hat give you a reason?”

“Mentioned something about ancestry,” she stated. “Do we know of any family that went here?”

“Eh, sore subject with Mom,” he answered, now back to fiddling with his Walkman. “If she didn’t go to Hogwarts, why would her family have?”

She nodded. “We should probably send Mom and Dad an update. ‘Congratulations, your son is a scholar and your daughter was sorted into a murderous regime’.” Tenley smirked, “Maybe that’ll get me sent back to Montana.”

Fitz shook his freckled head at her. “We get to see history made though! First tournament of its kind in over a century. Do you think Mom’s involved?”

“Huh, that’s a good point,” Tenley considered. “Still can’t believe she gave up her job at the bike shop to coordinate wizard sporting events. Did she ever even mention Quidditch before this summer?”

“You know Mom,” Fitz replied. “If she had it her way, we wouldn’t have discussed magic at all.”

“And now she’s in the belly of the beast,” Tenley muttered. “Maybe she’s on a mission to introduce wizards to the joy of cycling?”

They shared a laugh.

With a sigh, Tenley motioned to the portable radio in his hand. “What’s this new obsession of yours?”

“I’m trying to dig up information on the forest.”

“Oh, yeah? I was wondering about that. Why is it -” Tenley used her fingers as quotation marks, “out-of-bounds?”

“It’s unclear,” he admitted. “People seem genuinely afraid of it. Even the Grey Lady shut down at the mention of it.” He saw Tenley’s confusion and added, “My house ghost.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your house has its own ghost?”

Tenley waved the question away and prompted him to continue. “So naturally, that made you more curious…”

“Exactly,” he agreed. “Here, let me try again.” Fitz looked over at the clump of students next to them and tapped the nearest shoulder, “Excuse me.”

Curious, a boy turned and surveyed them.

“Hi, my sister and I are new here-” Fitz began.

He brightened and nodded eagerly, “What can I do for yuh?”

“Can you tell us why we’re not allowed in the forest?”

The boy’s face fell. “It’s forbidden.”

“Yes, thank you.” Fitz replied politely. “Why though?”

Shakily, he replied, “It’s a death sentence.”

“For any Ravenclaw, that is,” corrected the girl across from him. She leaned forward to explain. “Legend says it was cursed by a witch who was outsmarted in a duel. No Ravenclaw has made it out alive since.”

Under her breath, Tenley muttered, “‘Safest place on earth’.”

“Believe me,” the girl continued, “no Ravenclaw with any sense would go near it.”

“Appreciate it,” Fitz smiled back. He quickly turned to Tenley, and lowered his voice, “See what I mean? What a load of crap.”

She laughed. “You don’t seem convinced.”

“Of course not!” Fitz seemed offended by the thought. “I can’t believe these so-called intelligent students have bought into some dumb conspiracy.”

“Careful, Fitz,” Tenley teased. “You don’t want them to make an example out of you.”

Fitz blustered on, “Yes, students have disappeared in the forest, and yes, a good portion of them have been Ravenclaw, but to jump to the conclusion-”

Suddenly, his face was covered by a piece of parchment

“Here you are, Mr. Wright,” a voice squeaked. They looked down to see a man standing next them with deep wrinkles and wild white hair. His head barely reached the height of their shoulders. Tenley recognized him from the staff table. He continued to address Fitz, “Please note that today’s Muggle Studies class is cancelled.”

“Now, who do we have…” The old professor looked up from his stack of papers and became flustered at the sight of Tenley. “Oh my. I can’t remember the last time I saw green at our table. Better get along now, dear. Professor Snape will have your schedule.”

Tenley waited for him to move on, then rolled her eyes. She stood up with a sigh, “I’ll catch you later.”

Fitz nodded and reached for his headphones.

She patted her brother’s shoulder. “Maybe try some other conversation starters,” she offered, then headed over to the designated ‘green’ table.

“What I miss?” Tenley asked as she joined her housemates.

Odin placed a piece of parchment in front of her. “Grabbed your schedule for you.” He nodded over to the Ravenclaws, “What were you doing over there?”

“Just checking up on my brother,” she answered casually. “He’s a fourth year.”

“Huh,” his brow furrowed. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a family member choose a different house.”

With an eyebrow raised, she replied, “Choose?”

“That’s the only way I can figure it,” Odin reasoned. “Slytherin legacy runs deep in families.” With a shrug, he said, “At least he picked Ravenclaw. It’s the only other one I’d consider.”

Tenley shook her head with a smirk. That sneaky kid, she thought. Of course Fitz would act holier than thou when he could’ve just as easily joined her.

“Yur takin’ Arithmancy?” Hazel looked over her shoulder. “Ouch.”

“Best of luck,” Odin chuckled, “We dropped after hearing the calculations are nearly impossible in sixth year.”

“Wonderful,” Tenley grimaced.

Odin’s heavy-lidded eyes met hers. “Did I see you’re taking… Muggle Studies?”

Hazel stopped chewing, and Avery’s auburn head poked up from her book.

“Oh uh…” Tenley looked down and spotted the class listed under Friday. “Looks like it. Are you?”

“Not a chance,” he snickered. “It’s rubbish. Probably roping the transfer students into it since no one else wants to.”

“Yeah,” Hazel laughed, “They jus’ clap muggles on the back for bein’ able to toast bread and wash their clothes.”

Tenley shrugged. It couldn’t be worse than last year’s English class. “At least it sounds like an easy ‘A’”, she offered.

“Better than that! They probably hand out ‘O’s just to thank people for taking the class,” Odin snorted. Hazel and Avery snickered in response.

“We bes’ be gettin’ on,” Hazel sighed, “Ancien’ Runes awaits!”

“Oh,” Tenley watched as they gathered their things. “Do we have any classes together?”

“Of course!” Hazel assured her. “We’ll see you in Charms.”

As the three of them walked out of the hall, Tenley continued to study her schedule. Her day was to begin in Room 7E with Professor Vector. She turned the paper over in hope of finding a map on the back. No luck.

“How on earth…” she muttered.

Tenley jumped up and slung her book bag over her shoulder. Not looking where she was going, she stumbled into a tall group of students in yellow robes. She mumbled an apology and continued on.

“Rude,” someone called out.

“What do you expect?” scoffed another.

She hesitated at the door and looked back at the Hufflepuffs. There was a frail-looking girl with translucent skin glaring at her, and two guys. One in particular made her stomach flop. He shifted uncomfortably and avoided her eyes.

The other nudged him, “Think you can deduct points for that, Ced?”

Tenley quickly ducked out of the room.

Heart in her mouth, she walked slowly towards the entrance hall.

“Took yuh long enough!”

She looked up to see Hazel and Odin standing at the foot of the marble staircase.

Her red cheeks beamed, “Didn’ think we’d jus’ leave yuh, did yuh?”

With a huge sigh of relief, Tenley shook the encounter from her mind, and followed her new housemates up the stairs.

* * *

Tenley found her Arithmancy classroom on the seventh floor. It was practically silent except for the occasional rustle of robes or parchment. Only five other students were present. Three Ravenclaws, one Gryffindor, and one Hufflepuff all sat separated by house. She took the hint, and chose to sit at an empty table near the door.

At the front of the room, a stocky woman in grey robes and a pointy hat was pacing back and forth. Presumably, this was Professor Vector. Every few steps, she would pause and wave her wand at a large blackboard filled with long strings of numbers. A floating eraser quickly wiped a section of the board while a piece of chalk scratched a new equation in its place.

“Oh good!” Camilla’s musical voice rang out between big heaving breaths. Face flushed, she threw her bag down next to Tenley. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

“Only had to fight off a few people,” Tenley teased.

“Glad to have someone to suffer with,” she sighed. Her many bracelets and rings clinked together as she tamed her disheveled bangs. “Bad enough to start the morning by climbing ten flights of stairs.”

Cling! Tenley jolted from the sharp toll of a bell. Claaang!

Attention turned to the professor still staring displeased at the dusty blackboard. After one more correction with her wand, she turned to address them.

“Welcome back,” Professor Vector began. She moved to the center of the room and leaned on the front of her desk to address them. “You are all here due to a passing grade on your O.W.L.s, and a personal decision to continue on to N.E.W.T. level study,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I do not need a theorem to know that at least one of you will drop this class by the end of the month.”

The room held its breath.

“I do not say this to frighten you. My aim is to set proper expectations,” she explained. “Not everyone is cut out for this type of magic. It requires incredible concentration, memory, and problem-solving ability. You will no longer be able to rely solely on understanding theory. We’re moving beyond the simple calculations of predicting a coin flip or a card draw.”

“From this point forward, we will start incorporating the actual complexity of the world, and its competing data sets.” She motioned to the blackboard covered in equations. “Furthermore, we expect you to conduct most of these calculations in your head by the end of the year.”

The Gryffindor girl in the front row raised her hand.

“Angelina,” the professor nodded at her.

“Isn’t that illegal?” she asked.

“Only in certain situations,” Professor Vector confirmed, “such as gambling. We will cover the legal restrictions in each country.”

The professor paused and began to scan each of their faces. Tenley wondered if she could determine who would pass the class just by looking at them.

“Now,” her voice cut through the tension. “I doubt any of you have practiced since the spring. So let’s review.”

Tenley got out a roll of parchment, a feather quill, and a glass ink bottle to take notes. The next hour was spent discussing the proper theorems to use for certain data sets, and reviewing the correct spells to gather and organize that data. Plenty went over her head, and it didn’t help that she could barely read her own inky chicken scratch.

“Your first homework assignment will be to determine what color of socks I will be wearing at this time next week,” Professor Vector announced at the end of class. “You will submit your answers at the beginning of class, and those who have predicted correctly and shown their work, will be rewarded with fifty house points.”

She nodded at a Ravenclaw over at the next table. “Simon.”

“Can we use computation spells?

“Not yet. You will learn those shortcuts soon, but for this assignment, I want you to review how to calculate by hand.”

Tenley and Camilla looked at each other in disbelief.

As they exited the classroom, Camilla let out a groan. “I thought we were done with manual calculations! When will we ever need to do that in the real world?”

“Yeah,” Tenley agreed, “Terrance was way less strict about that.”

They waited for a staircase to slow to a stop before Tenley followed Camilla down.

“Hey,” she put out her arm. “See that step second from the bottom?”

“Yeah?”

“You gotta jump over it,” she advised. “First years always get their foot stuck in it.”

Tenley’s forehead crinkled. “Why doesn’t anybody fix it?”

“I don’t know…” Camilla considered, then shrugged. “Been like that for as long as I’ve been here.”

Tenley watched her hop over the trick step, then followed her lead.

Camilla continued to point out certain landmarks as they made their way to Charms. There was a suit of armor that signaled if the girls bathroom was occupied and an empty classroom with a good windowsill for napping between classes.

When they finally reached the third floor, Tenley caught sight of the same group of Hufflepuffs from earlier. Her stomach did a somersault, and she quickly dipped around a corner.

Camilla stopped and stared blankly at her. “The classroom’s this way…”

“Give me a minute. I’ll meet you in there.”

With a shake of her bangs, Camilla continued on down the main hall.

Back against the wall, Tenley tried to slow her heart rate. He’s nothing special, she told herself. Best to ignore him. Clearly, he wants nothing to do with you.

She held her breath as the Hufflepuffs passed by her corridor. Sure enough, there was Cedric, laughing with his friends.

An idea popped into her head.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Tenley lifted her bag and emptied its contents onto the marble floor. The loud thud of her books echoed down the corridor along with a clatter of quills and the shatter of glass.

Tenley crouched down to inspect the damage as the sound of hurried footsteps approached. When they stopped, she took a breath and looked up.

Cedric stood frozen in the doorway, wand at the ready.

Suppressing a smile, she casually waved him off, “It’s alright. Must’ve tripped.”

He turned his back, and her stomach tightened.

“Go on! I’ll catch up,” Cedric called down the main hallway, then made his way over to her. Wearing a sly grin, he bent down to meet her at eye level. “I’m just glad to see you instead of Peeves.”

She smiled back, although not quite sure what he meant.

Cedric began to gather her books as Tenley continued to siphon the splattered ink from the floor. Their closeness caused her skin to prickle. Now at the end of her plan, her mind went blank.
Rifling through her book titles, Cedric asked, “Have you got Flitwick next?”

She nodded as he handed them back to her.

“Nothing to worry about,” Cedric assured and helped her to her feet. “He’s one of the good ones.”

As Tenley lifted her bag to her shoulder, he turned toward the main hall. There had to be something clever to say, but nothing seemed good enough. She watched him take a few steps, shake his head, then turn back.

“Did you read today’s chapters?”

She felt her mind snap back to the present.

“Haven’t bothered yet,” she said with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “You’d think a new student would get more time to settle in.”

“Risky bet,” he chuckled, “but you’ll luck out with Flitwick. His summer holiday will fill up most the hour.” With a pause, he warned, “Wouldn’t try that with Snape though.”

“What class is that?” Tenley asked.

“Potions,” he replied. “I believe we’ve got it on Wednesday.”

She raised an eyebrow, “We?”

Color rose to his cheekbones. “Here I am, assuming things again,” he mumbled and tried again. “You’re a sixth year?”

She nodded.

“We’ll be together then,” he confirmed, then quickly clarified, “That is… if you’re continuing on with the N.E.W.T. levels.”

She failed to hide her smile, “I guess we will.”

Cedric looked toward the hallway again, so she prepared for his good-bye.

Instead, he leaned forward as if divulging a secret.

“When Flitwick brings up invisibility charms,” he said in a low whisper, “…suggest disillusionment instead.”

“He’ll love it,” Cedric grinned, “Probably ask you to join his house.”

Tenley laughed, “Is this a trick?”

With a shake of his head, he said. “I don’t think I’d ever try to pull one over on a Slytherin.”

“And why is that?” Tenley mused.

“I don’t,” he fumbled. “It’s just...”

Shifting uncomfortably, he searched the floor for the right response. Finally coming to a decision, he looked up through his lashes. “Didn’t I promise to find a way to welcome you?”

“You did, but god forbid I hold you to it,” Tenley sighed, “Now that you know my true colors and all.” She motioned to the green badge on her chest.

Cedric studied her.

Something was wrestling behind his eyes. Then softly, he said, “I have a feeling there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

A spark ignited in her chest.

“Well then…” Tenley whispered. She took a step closer to him. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to find out.” Her head lifted to meet his gaze. “If you’re not too scared.”

He breathed back, “I’ll take my chances.”

Claaang! The sound broke their spell.

“Not a good look for a prefect,” Cedric laughed as they quickly walked toward the empty main hall. “Hopefully McGonagall isn’t too mad.”

“Just say a student was causing you trouble,” Tenley offered as they parted ways.

Cedric sighed, “Trouble indeed.”

* * *

Despite showing up late, the mention of disillusionment helped Tenley gain ten house points to the delight of her new housemates.

However, the rest of the day continued on without too much excitement. Her afternoon was spent with an old ghost named Professor Binns. The novelty lasted for about fifteen minutes until she realized that his voice was the antithesis of joy.

“Is it possible to die from boredom?” Tenley greeted her housemates at dinner. “That class was worse than reading Grapes of Wrath,” she sighed.

Avery gave a slight chuckle.

“Binns?” Odin confirmed with a nod of his spikey head. “Yeah, wish we could’ve warned you before you picked your classes. Maybe there’s still time to change.”

“Enough of that!” Hazel interrupted. Her broomstick earrings swung with the turn of her head. “Did yuh ‘ear what ‘appened to Draco?”

“The blonde kid?” Tenley replied, casually filling her plate with Shepard’s pie. “No, what?”

“So we’re headed inside, Camy and I, and it’s packed with people-”

“The Entrance Hall,” Camilla clarified. “Students lined up for dinner.”

“Righ’, righ’”, Hazel waved her off. “So we see the Dar’ Arts professor - the one with the scary blue eye - comes runnin’ at Draco and turns ‘im into a squirrel!” she exclaimed. “Starts throwin’ ‘im around an’ everything.”

Tenley slowly set down her fork. “Can teachers do that?”

She had never been transfigured into an animal, nor thrown around a room before. Neither sounded particularly pleasant.

“No, stopped by McGonagall,” Camilla assured. “But he still got dragged to detention!”

“Squirrel Draco?” Tenley asked.

“Human Draco,” she corrected. “We were just saying it’s too bad that Odin wasn’t there to see it for himself.”

He shook his head.

“No one deserves that,” Odin said firmly, “Not even that kid.”

Aggressively picking at his potatoes, he muttered, “Knowing this place, Moody won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

“And ge’ this!” Hazel continued, disbelief written across her sun-burned freckles. “All he did was tell Weasley ‘bout his dad bein’ in the paper.”

“Who?”

“You know, the red-head that’s always with Potter,” Camilla explained, then rolled her eyes. “Looks like Moody’s already defending the golden boy and his friends.”

Tenley lifted her head and scanned the Great Hall. “Which one’s Potter?”

Hazel nearly choked on her pumpkin juice. “Yer kiddin, righ’? Scrawny fourth year. Black hair and glasses.”

“Often looks like someone’s just smacked him in the head with a broomstick,” Cass flashed his teeth.

“He can never do anything wrong,” Camilla scoffed. “Potter sneaks into the forbidden third-floor corridor. Fifty points to Gryffindor!”

“Potter opens the chamber of secrets,” Odin added with a smirk. “A thousand points to Gryffindor!”

Cass leaned his curls over the middle of the table as if they were in a team huddle. “We had a six-year winning streak before that kid showed up,” he grimaced. “He could blow up the school and still win the House Cup.”

“What’s so great about him?”

Her question fell on deaf ears.

Cass and the others were now looking toward the front of the hall. Tenley followed their gaze to see Dumbledore offering a chair to a man at the other end of the staff table. The newcomer appeared to wear jeans and a jacket instead of robes.

It wasn’t just their table that noticed. Heads were turning across the hall, and the room gradually grew quieter.

The white-bearded headmaster walked to the front podium.

“Good evening,” the calm voice greeted them. “A quick announcement before you return back to your dinner. Professor Burbage has decided to take a sabbatical this year to live with non-magic folk in Luxembourg.”

With a snort, Cass muttered “muggle studies”, then resumed eating.

Dumbledore raised his arm to gesture to the very end of the head table. “In her stead, we’ve invited a new professor to join us. I trust you will give Professor Wright a warm welcome.”

There was half-hearted applause as most of the hall had already lost interest.

Tenley felt like she’d been hit by the train. Squinting her eyes, she found a familiar face with a scruffy chin.

Confusion and shock began to settle in a pit in her stomach.

“Blimey!” Camilla snickered. “He even dresses like a bloody muggle.”

Among their laughter, Tenley had one alarming thought.

That’s because he is.

“You’re teaching at Hogwarts?!”

Tenley was quick on the draw as they closed the door.

After dinner, she and Fitz quickly diverted from their housemates and followed their dad back to a small windowless room that he introduced as his new office.

Gerry grinned. “Isn’t it great?”

His thick brown hair was freshly cut and combed back. As long as she could remember, he sported the same old navy jacket. It looked different though. Nicer, as if dry-cleaned and newly lined.

“How do… how did…” Fitz tried to put a sentence together, then gave up.

They both stared dumb-founded at their dad as he crouched down and began unzipping a suitcase at his feet. He looked up at them.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you two off yesterday,” he said while unpacking a tape dispenser and a stapler. “But I knew it wouldn’t be long ‘til I saw you again.”

Tenley tried to absorb his words, but a slow boiling anger began to rise to her chest. Slowly, she said, “You didn’t think this was something worth telling us?”

Exasperated, Fitz cut in.

“That’s what you're stuck on?” he exclaimed. “C’mon Ten, this is way crazier than that. I mean… don’t get me wrong, it’s good to see you, Dad, but how are you here? I didn’t know people, you know, without magic could teach here.”

“Well, I guess I’m setting the precedent!” he smiled big, then began unloading book after book in piles around his desk. “You know that I’ve been looking for a job since we moved, and Mom recently found out that your headmaster was looking to fill an open Muggle Studies position.”

He stopped to inspect the cover of Magic in the Greco-Roman World, muttered something to himself, then continued.

“And might I say…” he said slyly, holding his arms out, “who better to teach it.”

Tenley rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious! You’ve never taught a wizard before.”

He lifted an eyebrow, then chuckled, “I’ve taught you, haven’t I?”

“C’mon,” Fitz chimed in. “You know it’s different.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “I know it’s a little unconventional, but think about it. I’ve been teaching college students for years about magic through a historical muggle lens. Now I get to do the same thing, it’s just teaching magic folk about how the rest of the world perceives magical events. Besides…” he patted the small pocket on the chest of his suit jacket, “I’ve got luck on my side.”

Tenley rolled her eyes, “Your lucky coin can’t stand against real magic.”

Chuckling, Gerry pulled out his old coin and held it out in front of them.

It was ancient, literally. A glob of gold imprinted with the face of some Greek goddess.

“Since your mom gave me this,” he said proudly, “it’s led me through every-”

“-difficult moment in your life,” Tenley cut him off. “We know, dad.”

“It has!” he exclaimed. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Gerry flipped the coin in the air, then placed it safely back in his pocket as he walked over to inspect one of the torches lighting the room.

“I do suppose it’ll take a bit to get used to,” he told the flames, then looked back at them. “After all, I don’t suppose this castle is built for people like me.”

Knock knock.

They all turned to see Professor McGonagall in the doorway.

“Oh good, I’m glad to find the three of you together. May I take a few minutes of your time?”

“Come in! Come in,” Gerry ushered her into the small room as Tenley and Fitz awkwardly huddled together in the corner.

Eyeing the desk and single chair, McGonagall quickly withdrew her wand and with a single wave, three more cushioned chairs appeared. She motioned for everyone to sit.

“I’m glad to see you settling in, Gerald,” she stated matter-of-factly. “As you know, your safety is of utmost importance to us while you are here and we must all agree to certain terms to ensure success.”

“Safety?” Tenley spoke up, puzzled by the professor’s words. “Why would that be a main concern?”

Unfazed, her dad locked eyes with her and assured, “It’s just a precaution.”

“How did anyone think this was a good idea?” Fitz sighed as he lowered his head into his hands.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, placing a hand on Fitz’ shoulder. “It’s fine! Hogwarts is the safest place I could be.”

Fitz shook his head in disbelief.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on!?” Tenley raised her voice

“Your father is in a unique position as the first muggle that has ever been hired at Hogwarts. While exciting, we do have concerns about the current political climate. Are you aware of what transpired at this year’s Quidditch World Cup?”

Tenley thought back to the few details that her mom had revealed about that night. “I know people were attacked.”

“Muggles were attacked,” McGonagall clarified. “By a group of people who believe that magic bloodlines are superior.”

“So essentially you’re saying that these same people would not be okay with Dad teaching here.”

The three of them nodded.

“Why the hell are any of us here then?” she exclaimed. “There wasn’t anything like this happening in Montana! It doesn’t make sense.”

Sternly, McGonagall cleared her throat. “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters to discuss at this moment.”

“Yes, of course,” Gerry affirmed. “Please continue, Minerva.”

He then gave Tenley a look that said ‘we’ll talk about this later’.

“First of all,” McGonagall continued, “it’s important that no one finds out about your dad’s… lack of magic.”

Tenley scoffed. “It’s gonna be pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

There was a heavy hobbling of footsteps and another knock at the door.

“Ah, Alastor please come in.” Before McGonagall could conjure another chair, the strange new professor put out his hand.

“I’ll stand”, his deep voice crackled.

“Gerald, this is Alastor Moody, a retired auror and our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He will be keeping an eye out to prevent any danger from coming your way.”

All Tenley could think about was Moody transfiguring a kid into a squirrel. She watched as his magical blue eye whirled around to inspect every inch of the room.

Their dad reached out his hand and Moody cautiously took it.

“I appreciate it! You can call me Gerry.”

“Hmph,” he grunted, still grasping Gerry’s hand. “Stay vigilant. You’ve got a target on your back now.”

* * *

The next morning, Tenley struggled to concentrate during her first Herbology class.

Already, Professor Sprout was freely using terms like ‘bubotuber’ and ‘shrivelfig’. She assumed that Europe had different native magical plants, but she hadn’t expected to feel so lost right off the bat.

Besides, she had more pressing matters on her mind.

It was reassuring to have her dad close by. She was happy to see him.

However, there was an uncomfortable cloud of mystery that kept invading her once somewhat normal life. It reminded her of any time their mom had been confronted with a question about her past. Although her parents insisted that Tenley study witchcraft, her mom had never wanted anything to do with it. It was always discussed as a theoretical concept, just like how she assumed Dad talked to his students.

If it was dangerous to teach at Hogwarts, why on earth would he agree to it?

It was just another straw on top of the pile of recent decisions that made no sense.

Now, here Tenley was, sitting in a magical greenhouse surrounded by people who had freely lived their lives in the wizarding world. How nice for them that they didn’t have to think about such complicated circumstances.

“Can you pass those?”

Tenley snapped back to the present to see a boy in blue robes gesturing to a pair of gloves in her reach.

“Oh, sure.”

She gave him the protective gardening gloves. As he put them on, she noticed a silver band wrapped around his wrist. It reminded her of Odin’s.

Figuring that she had missed the instruction, she put on a pair of gloves herself.

“I’m Roger, by the way.”

“Tenley”, she sighed. No part of her wanted to socialize right now. That’s why she had taken a seat near the back, away from people, but… maybe he could be of service.

“I’m new here,” she continued innocently. “Do you mind helping me?”

There was a pile of average-looking twigs and branches on the table in front of them of all different shapes and sizes.

“Of course!” Roger puffed up his chest, clearly glad to have an opportunity to showcase his knowledge. “The vitanima root is one of my favorite species.”

“Really? Why’s that?” she exclaimed, pretending to be interested. If she could get this guy wrapped around her finger, this class would be a breeze.

“It’s fascinating, really.” He grabbed one of the dry brown twigs. “See how it looks like a dead piece of wood.”

She nodded.

“It’s very much alive!” he said enthusiastically. “It’s a protective mechanism so that people won’t harvest their life-force. They’re incredibly difficult to grow and also difficult to identify from just an average stick.”

He grabbed another twig and put them both in front of her.

“See here,” he grabbed a sharp tool and dug a hole into each. “Can you tell a difference?”

Holding one up close to her eye, there appeared to be something shiny at the center. She looked back at Roger, “Is this the vitanima?”

“It is! And the emerald vine in the middle is what we’ll be learning to extract.”

Intrigued, she asked, “So what does it do?”

“You’ve never seen the ads in the Prophet? They’re everywhere.” Roger laughed, then waved his hands in front of his face for dramatic flair, “Feel alive with VitaWear.”

Tenley shook her head.

“It’s woven into most designer clothes or jewelry. Check this out.”

He lifted up his arm and pushed back the sleeve of his school robes to reveal the sleeve of his white dress shirt. Sure enough, there were silvery green stars stitched along the cuff, moving in and out of the cloth as if they were twinkling.

“We’ve got closets full of this stuff,” he beamed. “Mum says she likes the idea of wearing something with a life of its own.”

“So… it’s alive? Even when spun into thread?”

“It’s an incredibly strong organism. No matter how many pieces it’s cut into, vitanima will stay green as long as it’s exposed to the proper amount of air and sunlight. Some people even believe it has healing properties.”

“Does it?” Tenley mused while fiddling with the deceivingly dead-looking stick.

“I reckon just wishful thinking”, Roger shrugged, “but impressive nonetheless.”

Tenley couldn’t help but agree. Healing powers or not, the end product sure was beautiful.

They spent the rest of the lesson identifying which pieces of kindling contained the vitanima, or rather, Tenley encouraged Roger as he did most of the work.

Once class ended, Tenley made her way out of the greenhouse and began walking towards the castle. However, something made her stop in her tracks.

The hair on the back of her neck rose and her heart began to pick up speed. It felt like someone was watching her. She quickly turned around.

There was nothing. Nothing except for the thick brush of trees that barricaded the grounds like a fortress. This must be the forest that she’d heard so much about. The forbidden forest.
She wanted to go towards it.

Faint whispers seemed to seep from the tree line. She wanted to hear what they were saying, so she closed her eyes and leaned forward…

“Careful with Roger Davies.”

Startled, Tenley turned to see Camilla with warning eyes. Hazel stood next to her with their herbology textbooks in hand.

“Oh, he was just helping me with the assignment,” Tenley replied, shaking any thought of the forest from her mind.

“Be sure to leave it at that. He’ll drop you the second he spots another pretty girl,” Camilla said bitterly.

“Noted.”

They hopped up the stone steps and headed back in the direction of the dungeons.

Hazel changed the subject. “You both ‘ave Ancien’ Runes nex’?”

Tenley shook her head. “I’m actually done for the day. Probably should get a head start on the Arithmancy homework though.”

“Good luck with that!’ Camilla laughed, “Let me know if you figure it out. How the hell are we supposed to guess the color of her socks?”

“I’ll keep you posted,” she laughed back. “Maybe I’ll check out the library or something.”

“Oh nice, it’s actually down that corridor over there.” Tenley’s eyes followed her outstretched hand. “Just try to avoid the librarian. She’s a real piece of work. See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Tenley waved back at them as she headed down the new corridor. Paintings of old witches and wizards talked freely as she walked toward the medieval-looking door at the end of the hall.

She finally reached the large brass handles and pulled them open to reveal a massive room decorated with books. Wherever she looked, thousands of spines sat pretty on their designated shelves. Rows and rows of polished wood enveloped the library and reached high up to the ceiling.

Tenley chose a table near the back, touched by daylight that streamed through a stained-glass window. She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out The Advanced Art of Arithmancy. Flipping open the hefty textbook, she smiled.

Dozens of data sets and equations covered the first few pages.

Numbers made sense to her.

Tenley had found the subject moderately interesting in the past, but it had just been memorizing spells and theorems. Finally, she would be doing actual calculations.

Over the next hour, she found the proper magical theorem to be used in order to predict color. Then, she used the “recenseo” spell to transcribe the data set of how often Professor Vector wears different socks. With the help of her wand, she covered an entire roll of parchment in equations.

“Impressive.”

The sound of his voice made her breath catch in her throat. She looked up to see Cedric beaming down at her with one hand on the back of her chair.

“I couldn’t get past the first year of arithmancy,” he laughed. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Tenley motioned for him to take a seat. As he pulled up the chair next to her, she was suddenly aware of every cell in her body.

“How did your first day of classes go?” he asked.

“Alright,” she replied. “Although I had a bit of a shock last night… my dad showed up.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Professor Wright. That’s him.”

“Incredible. And you had no idea?”

“It seems my family is not great about keeping each other in the loop,” she muttered.

“Frustrating,” he empathized. “Although I can’t say I relate. Sometimes I think my dad tells me too much. Our family owl gets a lot of mileage.”

“How so?”

Cedric nodded to a few students that passed by, then continued. “Like this morning, I get a letter from him asking if I saw the article in the paper about him.”

“Your dad was in the paper?”

“Not exactly,” he sighed. “His department was referenced briefly due to Mad-eye Moody and some dustbins. I’ll save you the details.”

“Mad-Eye is a good name for him,” she replied, thinking back to the magical blue eye that whirled around in its socket.

“I actually had his class this morning. Incredible what he’s seen as an auror, ” Cedric said, then leaned forward as if telling a secret. “He even performed the three Unforgivable Curses in front of us…”

Taken aback, Tenley choked out, “On what?!”

“A spider,” Cedric said solemnly. “Although I can’t say it deserved it. I don’t think any living creature would.”

“Thanks for the warning,” she replied, thinking ahead to Thursday’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

“So, what can you tell me about my future?” Cedric motioned to her textbook.

“It doesn’t work quite like that,” she playfully rolled her eyes. “If done right… I more so can tell you the probability of the future.”

“How about where I’ll be taking you?”

“Taking me?”

Cedric grinned. “To do good on my promise. To show you around! That is, if you’ll still have me.”

“Let’s see…” Tenley grabbed a fresh roll of parchment and started sketching out the bones of the Montessori Theorem. With a tap of her wand, numbers began rearranging themselves across the page. She did some mental calculations, then smiled. “You’ll be taking me to the third floor.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind…”

“What can I say,” she casually threw her hands up in the air. “The numbers tell me it’s a five to one chance that we’ll end up there. Always room for error.”

Cedric leaned over to better see her parchment, and Tenley breathed in his woodsy scent of cedar and sage.

“What else can they tell you?” he said with a sly grin.

Tenley turned her head to lock into his grey eyes. A streak of sunlight met the gold specks in his hair, and her body felt warm under his gaze.

“Well…” she whispered, their faces close together. “We could look at the weather or… what’ll be served for dinner-”

“How about the next time I get to see you?” he breathed back.

Suddenly, a wand slapped down on the table and they both jumped back in their seats to see a stuffy old witch with a sour face glaring back at them.

“This room is for studying, not fraternizing,” she hissed, then prowled on to the next table.

Heat rising to her cheeks, Tenley quickly gathered her things and stood. “I better be getting back.”

“This time. Next week. Meet by the library?”

She smiled back at him. “I’ll be there.”

Once out of his sight, Tenley sped through the hall and down towards the dungeons. She felt like she could run a marathon with the energy coursing through her body. Finally, she reached the common room and collapsed on the main couch by the fire and tried to catch her breath.

Cedric.

Her mind reeled as it played back their conversation. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this flustered before. It was uncomfortable and maddening. She loosened the tie around her neck.

“What’s got you so bothered?”

Startled, Tenley turned to see Odin’s spikey head poking out of a book. He set it down and walked over to sit across from her.

“It’s nothing,” she waved away. “Scolded by the librarian.”

“Way to make a first impression,” he smirked. “Although, I’d expect you to have thicker skin than to let Madame Pince rattle you.”

Tenley rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the support.”

Across the room, she spotted Blaise Zabini pacing the floor, peeking around every corner and crevice.

“What’s up with him?”

Odin craned his neck.

“Oh, Blaise? Probably lost his cat. She always turns up eventually,” he waved the thought away. “So what’s the deal with your dad? He’s teaching here now?

“Apparently so,” she nodded. “I had no idea.”

“At least we now know why you were put in Muggle Studies,” he laughed. “Maybe he’ll actually make it a worthy subject instead of Dumbledore’s rewrite of history.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to pretend that witches were never burned at the stake. Wants everyone to live in blissful harmony and ignore the cold hard facts,” Odin grimaced. “We hide so we’re not hunted.”

Tenley paused and let his words sink in. She thought back to her dad.

“I… I know a muggle who’s aware of the wizarding world. He’d never…”

“You sure about that?” Odin’s wide eyes glittered. “There’s more of them than there are of us. It only takes a mob. They’d try to wipe us off the map if they all knew about our power.”

“But they don’t!” she exclaimed.

“And do you think that’s fair, Tenley? That we must live in the shadows while they lay claim to the world’s land and property.”

“I’ve never thought about it…” she mumbled.

It was true. She’d never considered what he was saying. She’d never thought about why she had to hide her magic. Tenley hated hiding. All her life, she just wanted to forget about magic and be normal for once.

Odin leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “I’m surprised your parents have never taught you this. I swear it’s the only thing my dad talks about.”

“I guess we’re not very political.”

“Political? This is life and death, Tenley.”

She surveyed his face. He was serious.

With a hard swallow, she offered, “I’m sure my dad will be very fair and balanced.”

“Let’s hope,” Odin said with a shake of his head. “If Dumbledore doesn’t censor him first.”

Just then, a hoard of students began to stream through the common room curtain. They spotted Camilla and Hazel as they came bounding down the granite stairs.

“Oi!” Hazel exclaimed. “Guess where we’re goin’ this weeken’?”

She held up a piece of parchment that looked like an official school notice. In large black script, Tenley thought she made out the word ‘Hogsmeade’.

Odin smirked, “Better send an owl to let Abe know we’re coming.”

“Already done,” Camilla affirmed, then motioned to Tenley. “I told him to expect one more.”

Responding to the clear confusion across Tenley’s face, Hazel smiled big and said, “Jus’ you wai’ and see.”

In Potions class the next day, Tenley was distracted by one particular yellow-robed student on the other side of the room.

She tried to keep her eyes on Professor Snape as he explained the side effects of aging potions, but every few minutes, she’d glance over to see Cedric focused on his parchment, taking notes with his quill. Tenley didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but some kind of acknowledgement would be nice.

Instead, she watched him pack up his things and walk out of the classroom without any sign of awareness that she existed. She told herself that it meant nothing, but it left a lingering sting throughout the days' worth of classes.

That is, until she got to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As promised, Professor Moody was in his element, raving about the need to protect oneself. They all watched in muted fascination as he demonstrated the three Unforgiveable curses on an enlarged spider. Torture, impersonation, and finally, a flash of green light illuminated the room briefly as they witnessed instant death.

“There’s only one person in recent history that has survived the killing curse,” Moody grunted, “and he lives among you.”

Back straight and chin held high, Cass called out, “How’d he do it?”

The room patiently held its breath.

Professor Moody hobbled to the front of his desk, then his gravelly voice filled the air. “There are few things that can stop a killing curse. It is unblockable, and there is no cure. It’s unclear how a mere child was able to survive the greatest dark wizard of our time.”

Pieces of European history shuffled around in the back of Tenley’s mind. She knew he was referring to Lord Voldemort, a murderous wizard that disappeared over a decade ago. If she remembered correctly, there was a little boy who survived his last attack.

“Potter…” Tenley muttered under her breath. She leaned over to Hazel, “Is he talking about the Gryffindor kid?”

Hazel didn’t move. She stared straight ahead, eyes widened in horror, as the slow creak of footsteps closed in on them.

Tenley took a breath and turned to see Moody’s grizzled face bearing down on her.

“Hmph,” he grunted. “The new professor’s daughter doesn’t know her history.”

She gave an awkward smile, “I know how wizards influenced the American Revolution – not so much about Voldemort.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Moody’s face remained wooden while his electric blue eye went wild.

“We don’t speak his name,” he growled. “There’s your first lesson.”

He hobbled back over to the desk. “I’m sure your classmates can fill you in on the rest,” Moody advised while picking up the attendance sheet, “just beware of your source. Let’s see… Pucey!”

The room turned to look at Adrian Pucey, a clean-cut quidditch kid. He stared at Moody with an uneasy hesitancy.

“How’s your mother?”

Adrian shrugged.

“I hear she leads the ministry’s MCI unit now,” Moody grunted. “Impressive after her own run-in with the law. ”

“It was the imperious curse,” Adrian called back. “She did nothing wrong.”

“A common story among the Dark Lord’s followers.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying-”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” Moody replied with a sinister grin.

He addressed the class again. “Many of his followers escaped consequence. Some lied, others ran, and some betrayed their friends, but many still walk free to this day. Including the head of the Magical Crime Investigation unit!”

“She was cleared of all charges!” Adrian cried as he sprung from his chair.

Moody challenged his glare, “Lucky her.”

Flustered, Adrian slammed his textbook shut and stormed out of the classroom. The rest of the class watched in stunned silence.

“Now,” Moody continued without missing a beat, “No more wasting time. I’ve got one year to teach you how to protect yourself.”

“So, what do we do?” Camilla spoke up.

Moody lifted an eyebrow at her.

With more confidence, she clarified, “About the killing curse. There must be some spell…”

“If you’re ever on the receiving end of this curse, Miss Inkwell, than I hope you have more skill and speed than your opponent.” His mouth widened into a mischievous grin that made Tenley’s skin crawl. “You better be the one to fire first.”

A shaky voice rose from the back of the room. “Isn’t there some kind of armor… or… or amulet?”

“Nothing!” Moody hissed. “There is no object that can protect you from this curse. It can be dodged, but you can’t let it hit you. Once it hits you, it’s over.” He slammed his fist down on his desk, making Tenley and the rest of the room flinch. “Lights out.”

“He’s a bit mad, isn’ he?” Hazel whispered as they filed out of the classroom. Her thick sand-colored braid swung with each skip in her step.

“He’s mad, alright,” Cass grunted. “But bloody better than our past teachers. Maybe I’ll actually learn something this year.”

“Don’t go singing his praises too loud,” Camilla warned, her eyes wide. “Remember what he did to Malfoy? Besides, think of all the people he’s sent to Azkaban. Stephan’s uncle. Marcella’s stepmother. We can’t forget that.”

Tenley internally groaned. This was the man in charge of her father’s protection.

Nodding his spikey head in agreement, Odin pulled the group into a huddle at the edge of the main hall. “Exactly. He’s been a ministry pawn his whole career. He can’t be trusted. I mean, we know he wasn’t completely honest in there.”

“C’mon man, not your soulcatcher theory again,” Cass flashed his toothy grin. “No one knows if they actually exist.”

“Soul catcher?” Tenley asked.

“Objects that capture your soul,” Odin explained. “So you can’t die.”

“What he means is that there are legends of people who’ve used them,” Camilla rolled her eyes. “Besides, if that were really a thing, wouldn’t everyone be using them?”

“All I know is that it comes at a cost,” Odin shrugged. “Some kind of sacrifice.”

“You sound like one of those looneys who’re waiting for the Dark Lord to return,” she countered.

There was a glimmer in Odin’s eyes. “Crazier things have happened. Like the most powerful wizard in the world being defeated by a baby.”

“So that’s Potter, right?” Tenley whispered. “The Boy Who Lived?”

“You’re finally catching on,” Cass laughed, then gave her a pat on the back. “No matter how insufferable the kid may be, he still gets credit for ending the war.”

“I wonder where Adrian ran off to,” Camilla sighed, lifting her book bag to her shoulder. “I can’t believe Moody went after his mum like that.”

Tenley surveyed the shakes of their heads. “Yeah, what was that about?”

“Basically accused her of being a Death Eater,” Odin explained. “Some kids are proud of their family ties to the war, but in most circles, it’s still an insult.”

“Proud?”

“Oi, don’t ge’ him star’ed!” Hazel exclaimed with a smile. “He’ll drone on for hours if you le’ him.”

Cass playfully grabbed Odin’s shoulders, “Yeah, mate, let’s get some lunch first.”

“Piss off,” Odin said, although a small smile betrayed him as he wrestled out of Cass’ grip. Conceding, he whispered to Tenley, “Another time.”

She nodded, and followed her housemates into the Great Hall.

Tenley quietly sipped on her pumpkin juice as Hazel and Cass debated the best techniques for servicing a broom.

“I’ll buy that polish this weekend,” Cass finally agreed, “as long as you try my shearing method.”

“Deal,” Hazel said while shaking his hand. “Speakin’ of this weekend… anyone talk tuh Roger?”

Camilla grumbled, “He knows.”

“Think of how good it’ll feel to hit him with a stunning spell,” Cass offered.

“He’s lucky Moody didn’t teach us how to perform those curses,” she muttered.

Odin laughed, “Careful there, Camy. We don’t want to give anyone a reason to rat us out this year.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” she smirked. “Besides, that’s what Hufflepuffs are for.”

Tenley nearly choked on a bite of bread. They all turned towards her.

“What do you mean?” she breathed.

Eyes shifting from one person to another, Cass quickly replied, “We can’t say.”

Nodding her black bangs in agreement, Camilla quickly added, “Not yet, anyway.”

Tenley suspiciously looked around at her new housemates as each of them suddenly became very interested in their own plate of food. Anxiously twirling her fork through a mound of mashed potatoes, Hazel finally broke the silence.

“She oughta know abou’ the oath.”

Wide-eyed, the rest of the group looked at her as if she had committed a mortal sin.

“Oh relax, why don’ yuh!” Hazel exclaimed.

Her sunburned cheeks turned to Tenley.

“We wanna take yuh to our favorite pub in Hogsmeade,” she started, then chose her next words more carefully. “The thing is… it’s gonna cost yuh.”

“How much?”

“A secret,” she replied matter-of-factly. “The best one yuh got.”

* * *

The next two days couldn’t pass quickly enough, especially with the amount of homework that was racking up. Tenley had hoped her course load would decrease significantly by dropping out of normal high school, but sixth year studies were turning out to be just as much work.

It was especially difficult to concentrate with the impending Hogsmeade trip close at hand. She had no idea what to expect. On one hand, her curiosity was piqued. On the other hand, blind trust was required of her, and that did not come easily. What was she getting herself into?

Every time she asked a question, she was met with a vague “you’ll see” or a not so reassuring “it’ll all be worth it”.

Even still, she wanted to know.

After years of watching friend groups with their inside jokes and after-school plans, this was her chance. She was tired of being on the sidelines.

Nevertheless, the thought of divulging a secret made her skin itch. Tenley had no idea what she was going to say or how revealing she’d need to be. Maybe she could make something up.

By Friday afternoon, Tenley and Camilla walked together to their final class of the week, double Arithmancy, where they each turned in their completed assignment at the top of the hour. They anxiously watched as Professor Vector unrolled each parchment one by one to check their work.

“Miss Wright,” the woman looked up from her roll. “Would you care to tell me how you arrived at your conclusion?”

“Oh um,” Tenley felt the eyes of the classroom on her. “I collected sets of data based on the frequency that you wear different socks, your buying history, and um…your qualitative preference. The odds of you wearing purple socks were 1 in 4.”

A few students nodded in agreement, while others furiously flipped through their notes.

“And your conclusion?” the professor pressed.

“Well,” Tenley continued, “the Montessori theorem also showed there was a 65% chance of you wearing green, so I uh… concluded that you’d wear both.”

Professor Vector lifted up her cloak to reveal purple knee-length stockings with green polka dots.

“Very good,” she said plainly. “I see most of you did not consider the probability of multiple colors. Ten points to Slytherin.”

When the dull clang of a bell marked the end of class, Camilla stood and gave Tenley a pat on the back. “Thank God, one of us knows what the hell’s going on in this class. Guess I’ll be going off of your calculations from now on!”

“Only if you help me survive Charms,” she countered.

“That, my friend, is what Hazel is for,” Camilla assured her with a sly grin as they descended the stairs. “My mum likes to say ‘it’s all about who you know’, and Hazel is our go-to for wand work. You’ll see firsthand tomorrow.”

“Will I?” Tenley replied, this time annoyed by the hint at whatever laid in wait for her in Hogsmeade.”

“Trust me, Tenley,” she waved the tension away. “We wouldn’t take these precautions unless they were necessary.”

“And if I don’t want to be a part of it?”

Camilla stopped in her tracks, then led Tenley to the side of the main hall. Her green eyes glittered as she lowered her voice to a whisper.

“Listen, you’re one of us now. We want you there.”

At these words, Tenley felt her shoulders soften as a twinge of camaraderie warmed her chest. Unfamiliar as it was, it was nice to be a part of something.

With an encouraging smile, Camilla shrugged, “You keep our secret, and we’ll keep yours. It’s that simple.” As they continued on toward the dungeons, she added, “We got bloody caught last year. See that painting,” she motioned down a corridor to a floor-length portrait of a woman in a white sundress sitting on a rope swing attached to the branch of a large tree.

Camilla waved as they passed. The woman smiled and fluttered her fingers back.

“We call her the Woman in White. Leads to a room where we used to meet on the first Wednesday night of every month.” Her plump face twisted into a scowl. “The last time we met there, McGonagall was waiting for us outside. Almost got us expelled,” she spat. “All because of Diggory.”

“Who?”

“Hufflepuff golden boy. Our year,” she answered coolly. “The name’s Cedric.”

Tenley’s stomach dropped.

She quickly fixed her face to appear unfazed as they approached the common room entrance. They found the marker of discolored bricks on the opposite wall than it’d been that morning. At the mention of the password, the bricks shifted into an archway.

“And you’re sure it was him?” Tenley asked, attempting to sound casual as they stepped into the dark corridor.

“Certain,” Camilla affirmed. “First and last time we trust a Hufflepuff,” she stated just as the archway closed behind them.

* * *

The next morning, nerves shot through Tenley as she dressed for their day-trip.

In only a few hours, she’d discover what her new friends were up to.

Something that could get her expelled, and furthermore, something Cedric clearly did not approve of. Her stomach gave a lurch at the thought.

She hadn’t told anyone about her encounters with him, and now, she certainly wasn’t going to. What would they think about her befriending him? And what would Cedric think about her partaking in this underground club?

No part of her wanted to find out.

Sporting blue jeans and her trusty Peets High sweatshirt, Tenley joined the rest of the crew on the long walk across Hogwarts grounds, past the train station, and towards a small village near the castle. Red and orange leaves lined the path as they admired the picturesque September day.

Once they arrived in town, sun glinted from dozens of shop windows that dotted the sprawling cobblestone streets. Wide-eyed, Tenley stared at the locals going about their usual day, buying potion ingredients and spell books. It was odd to think that there were hundreds of villages just like this hidden across the world where witches and wizards could live their magical lives freely. People back home had no idea that such places existed, and here she was, fully participating in it for the first time.

They wove in and out of shops for most of the morning.

Cass and Hazel spent most of their time at Spintwitches debating the best quidditch supplies until Camilla dragged everyone to the Gladrags wizardwear store to dress each of them in the latest fashions. Odin ended up buying a striped sweater, and even Avery was convinced to put down her book to try on a hat or two.

By noon, most of their pocket change had been spent and any thought of a covert mission seemed to be far from anyone’s mind. That is, until Cass took a look at his watch and began rounding up the troops within Honeydukes.

Tenley was inspecting an array of acid pops when she noticed his burly frame appear behind her.

“It’s time,” he said under his breath, then motioned towards the door.

Outside, the street was bustling with students. Tenley followed the five of them away from the main road down a winding path. The farther they walked, the fewer people she saw milling about.

Eventually, they came upon a shabby looking pub. A wooden sign above the door displayed the severed head of a pig. Inside, the dirt-caked hall smelled of stale beer and sweat. It was empty except for one old ashy-haired man slumped over the bar with an empty glass in hand, mumbling incoherently to himself.

“Favorite pub, huh?” Tenley smirked.

Ignoring her, Camilla strode in, searching the room.

“You’re late.”

They turned to see a lanky man with long scraggly grey hair emerge from a door behind the bar. “I told the lot of them that they’d be kicked out if you weren’t here in five minutes,” he grunted.

“Well, we’re here now,” she assured with a charming smile, then nodded to Cass.

He made his way through the group, pulled out a velvet drawstring bag, and placed it in the old man’s hand. A clink of coins rattled inside. “We appreciate you doing this, Abe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he said. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Abe stepped aside and held the door open for them.

Tenley followed them into a small storage room with a wooden ladder poking out of a hole in the floor.

One by one, they took turns climbing down into the dark and dusty basement.

When her boots landed on the dirt floor, she looked around a cavernous room lit by dozens of torches along the cobwebbed walls. Most of it gave way to wide open space aside from a few rows of barrels and shelves holding various fruit jars and canned vegetables. Off to the side, there was a table laid with a platter of bread, cheeses, and pitchers of beer.

At least ten people stood chatting near the refreshments with pints in their hand. She recognized most students from the Slytherin common room and others she’d passed in the hall. She even spotted Roger Davies from Herbology class.

“Took you long enough,” said an older Ravenclaw, raising her glass to them as they filed in.

“My faul’, my faul’,” Hazel confessed. “Got caugh’ up with some fizzing whizbees.”

There were snickers of laughter, then silence as Camilla stepped up on a wooden crate. Her rosy cheeks glowed under torchlight as she commanded the room.

“Thank you all for joining us for another year,” she clasped her hands together. “Before we get down to business, we must swear-in our new recruit. Avery, the ledger?”

Tenley anxiously watched as Avery withdrew a thick black leather-bound book from her satchel, then handed it over to Camilla. She raised the heavy book as high as she could so that everyone could see the silver dagger detailed on the front cover.

“This record has been passed down for centuries. It contains the history of the select few who’ve come before you and mastered their craft under this coven. Your names join the ranks of those like Leopold the Brave and Filipa Cromwell, and like them, your legacy will live on through these pages.”

Camilla opened the book, and cradled it in her arm.

“Like them, you’ve taken an oath to protect the emblem we wear proudly.”

She lifted her hand to display a familiar silver band wrapped around her wrist.

“And now, Tenley, you’ve been invited to carry on the tradition. Your most confidential information will be entombed in this ledger as a covenant to never reveal the nature of this club to anyone outside of these walls.”

Signaling with a nod, Hazel held out a slim mahogany box. She lifted its lid to reveal green velvet encasing a large feather quill that looked like it had been dipped in silver.

“This quill decides if your secret is worthy enough for our cause. Think carefully. It must be something that would have repercussions if exposed.”

Gingerly, Tenley picked up the quill and walked over to the outstretched book. Stained with age, the blank parchment paper stared up at her.

It now seemed useless to make-up a lie. Unprepared, she wracked her brain for some detail she’d prefer to keep private.

Cedric came to mind.

The warmth of his gaze. The rise and fall of his chest against hers. She tried to put her feelings into words, but came up short.

No, whatever he was to her, she knew it wouldn’t do.

With all eyes on her, Tenley dug through her memories, targeting the areas she least wanted to think about. Then, she came upon one that always frightened her as a child. To this day, it still carried a deep pang of shame.

She lifted the quill and etched her confession on the empty page. Black ink appeared as she wrote.

I set fire to my second-grade classroom

Chest tight, she watched as her words sank down and were swiftly swallowed by the paper. Staring at the blank page for a moment, she then looked up to see Camilla’s mouth twisted to the side.

“Not strong enough”

Tenley was at a loss. What’s something that she wouldn’t tell anyone?

Then, it hit her.

A promise she had made just a few nights prior.

She quickly scribbled it down.

My dad, Gerry Wright, has no magic ability.

It felt strange to write.

Her dad’s status in the wizarding world was something she rarely considered nor cared about. Nevertheless, she’d been convinced that it was dangerous information in the wrong hands, and apparently, the enchanted quill agreed.

This time, when her handwriting sank into the page, new words bubbled to the surface in elegant cursive script:

The Cloak and Dagger Society welcomes its newest member,
Tenley Wright.

May you sharpen your wits, hone your craft, and safeguard your coven.

Your word is your bond.

Camilla closed the leather-bound book and stepped down from her stage. Exchanging the ledger for a pocket-sized box, she appeared before Tenley with a glint in her eye. Her wrists jangled as she opened the box and gently withdrew a thin silver cuff. Up close, Tenley noticed the tiny hilt of a sword connected to a pointed blade that wrapped around to form a circle.

With an encouraging smile, Camilla slid the band onto Tenley’s wrist, then whispered, “Welcome to the dueling club.”

“Expelliarmus!”

Odin jumped out of the way just in time for the spell to collide with a jar of pickles that exploded on its shelf. Without missing a beat, Odin fired his own leg-locker curse in the direction of his opponent, a seventh-year Slytherin named Lucian.

The boy’s knees buckled.

As he fell to the ground, he shouted, “Stupefy!”

The attack grazed Odin’s stomach, causing every inch of him to go stiff.

On the sidelines, Tenley watched in muted horror as he tipped over onto the dirt floor. The surrounding students clapped as if enjoying a nice game of chess.

With a wave of his wand, Lucian unlocked his legs, dusted himself off, then made his way over to Odin’s motionless body at the other end of the room. He took a potion vial out of his back pocket and dripped the green liquid into Odin’s open mouth. In seconds, Odin was back on his feet, shaking Lucian’s hand.

“Well played,” he conceded. “I always forget to watch out for your stunners.”

Lucian clapped him on the back, “Next time.”

They both walked over to the refreshment table for a round of butterbeer as Camilla coordinated the next showdown between Hazel and Cass.

Over in the corner, away from the action, Tenley took notice of Avery’s auburn head buried in the old black ledger. As she moved closer, it appeared that she was writing something in it.

“You up next?” Tenley grinned, kneeling down next to her.

Without taking her eyes from the page, Avery softly said, “I’m the record-keeper.”

“Sounds like a tall order.”

She gave a polite nod.

“Have you ever tried it?” Tenley asked. “Dueling, I mean.”

In the center of the room, Cass and Hazel both stood with their wands drawn, smirking as they gave each other a formal bow.

Avery shook her head, “Not one for combat.”

“Why join then?” Tenley asked earnestly.

With a thoughtful pause, Avery set down her quill, then flipped to the front cover of the ledger. Turning past the first few pages, her hand trailed across old handwritten script until she found what she was looking for. Tenley followed her finger and read over her shoulder:

“This society dates back to the sixteenth century,” she explained. “My family were founding members. Every Burke wears this band.”

Instinctively, Tenley’s thumb grazed the new silver blade wrapped around her wrist. They both looked up to watch the next duel begin.

Cass was twice the size of Hazel, but she was faster. Quick on her feet, she proceeded to dodge the first few spells that he directed at her.

“What about yours?” Avery’s curious eyes met hers for the first time. “You come from American wizards, right?”

“Right,” Tenley lied, thinking about her non-magic paternal grandparents. She quickly diverted to her magical side. “My mom grew up in England though.”

“Did she go to Hogwarts?”

“Actually, no…” Tenley searched her memory for the few details her mom had divulged about her upbringing. “She wanted to, but her parents made her go to a different school.”

“Strange.” Her forehead crinkled. “I wonder why.”

Tenley shrugged. “Sore subject.”

Suddenly, she saw a streak of blue light. Tenley jerked out of the way just as the jinx flew by her ear.

“Careful Cass,” Hazel playfully mocked as they circled each other, “Yer gonna take someone else ou’!”

He flashed his white teeth at her. “Not a chan- Protego!”

An invisible shield appeared just in time to deflect her latest charm, but Hazel doubled down and ran towards him.

“Rictuhsempruh! Rictuhsempruh!” She repeatedly fired from her wand.

Eventually, Cass’s protective shield faded, and a purple streak hit his knee causing him to topple forward. Once on the floor, his body began to convulse. Then, they watched as he erupted into a fit of giggles.

“Stop it!” he wheezed between howls of laughter. “Stop it! ”

Hazel’s sunburned cheeks beamed with pride as the room applauded her triumph. She stood over Cass for a moment, then waved a counter-curse at him.

Through a sigh of relief, he breathed, “You know I hate being tickled.”

“Bettuh than the dancing jinx you gave me las’ time,” she grinned, then helped pull his linebacker frame off the ground.

They shook hands.

Among the sea of students, Tenley caught Camilla’s eye and watched as she sauntered over to greet them.

“Time for you to have a go?”

Avery quickly returned to the ledger while Tenley got to her feet, ignoring the nerves radiating from her core.

“Can’t promise I’ll be any good,” she warned with a smirk. “Dueling wasn`t exactly part of my curriculum.”

Camilla’s wrists jangled as she gleefully clapped her hands together. “That’s alright. We’ll find you a good match.” She scoured the room, then called across it, “Cho!”

A petite girl poked her head up, then gracefully made her way over to their corner. Tenley noticed that she had smooth white skin and long black hair that flowed like silk.

“I’d like you to meet Tenley Wright. Our newest housemate,” Camilla introduced. “And this is Cho Chang. Fifth year. Ravenclaw. Roger brought her in at the end of last year.” There was a slight edge to her voice.

In contrast, Cho spoke with a gentle lilt. “Didn’t know what I was getting myself into, to be honest.”

Tenley smiled, “I’m with you there.”

“Right then, let’s get on with it,” Camilla said as she corralled them to the center of the room. Before darting off, she squeezed Tenley’s arm and whispered in her ear, “You’ll be brilliant.”

As Tenley stood amidst a crowd of onlookers, blood pulsed loudly in her ears. She gripped her wand handle tight, then closed her eyes. Silently, she went through the full list of defensive spells she had learned over the years.

Just don’t look like an idiot, she coached herself.

Mimicking the duelers that came before, Tenley faced the pretty Ravenclaw. She appeared calm and focused as they locked eyes and stepped closer.

Once in arm’s length, they crossed wands and bowed low to each other. Then, they turned, walked a few feet away, and waited for the count-down.

Together, the surrounding dueling club members chanted, “Three…two… one-”

“Impedimenta!” Tenley shouted with a flick of her wand.

The bright white stream of light hit Cho’s arm, but not before she had fired her own spell. As if there was an invisible string at her feet, Tenley tripped and fell to her knees. The impact knocked the wind out of her.

Clutching her chest, she looked up to see Cho. Moving at half-speed due to the jinx, she slowly raised her wand to strike again.

In that moment, Tenley drew a blank.

She felt all eyes on her as she missed the perfect instant to beat her opponent to the punch. Meanwhile, Cho mustered up a stunning spell. Her voice was soft, yet direct.

Tenley ducked just in time, then shot a disarming spell that missed her collarbone by only an inch. Cho was regaining momentum as the impediment jinx wore off. Stunning spells began firing at Tenley like a flare gun. She wanted to conjure a protective shield, but couldn’t remember the right wrist movement. Instead, Tenley bobbed and weaved across the circle, doing her best to not get hit.

Sitting empty on the sidelines, a wooden chair caught her eye. Without a second thought, she copied one of her tutor’s signature moves.

“Accio!”

With a flick of her wand, the chair flew onto the scene, hit Cho from behind, and scooped her up like a rag doll. An audible gasp erupted from the onlookers as the collision jerked Cho forward and sent her long black hair flying.

Breathing hard, Tenley stood at the ready, waiting for the next attack, but Cho wasn’t moving.

A heavy silence hung in the air, cut only by a couple of awkward claps.

Unsure what was happening, she watched a few students run forward and gather around Cho. Her body still slumped over the wooden chair.

Looking at the surrounding faces, Tenley was met with a mixed bag of disapproval, astonishment, and for some Slytherins, glee.

Finally, a boy broke the silence. “She can’t do that!”

“Relax McBroom,” Camilla scowled as she walked into the circle. She joined Tenley’s side and addressed the crowd. “We’ll call this one a draw.”

Chatter rose among the students as Camilla leaned down to mutter in her ear, “Can’t use outside objects.”

Heat rising to her cheeks, Tenley quickly looked back over at Cho.

Likely with the help of magic, she appeared to be stirring.

Eyes squeezed shut, Cho slowly sat up and gingerly felt the low of her back where she’d been knocked off her feet. A gaggle of girls encircled her, no doubt discussing Tenley’s lack of sportsmanship.

“Don’t worry about it,” Camilla said, attempting to combat the embarrassment. “You didn’t know.”

Frozen in place, Tenley’s mind raced. There had to be some way to ease the sinking pit in her stomach. A few feet away, she spotted Cho’s wand lying in the dirt.

It must’ve dropped on impact.

Tenley walked over and picked it up.

At the expense of a few dirty looks, she shouldered her way through the group of Ravenclaws, and held out the wand.

Cho cautiously took it, then gave her a polite smirk.

“I’ll have to watch out for you.”

“Me?” Tenley countered. “Your tripping jinx nearly took me out.”

With a gleam in her eye, she said, “I’d say your method was more effective.”

“Well,” Tenley sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ve come to learn throwing chairs is frowned upon… Didn’t cause too much damage, did I?”

“Nothing that a pint can’t fix,” she waved away. Cho steadily rose from the chair, smoothed out her knee-length skirt, then stuck out her palm.

Relieved, Tenley took hold of it and said, “It’ll be a fair fight next time.”

Cho’s lips lifted into a playful smile, “No promises.”

Gripping her hand tight, Tenley returned a devilish grin.

* * *

On the way back to the castle, Cass’ large hand clapped her on the back, “Inventive, really. Bloody technicality that you didn’t win.”

Tenley grimaced, “No one thought to give me a run-down of the rules first?”

“Didn’ think abou’ it,” Hazel shrugged. “Gave us a good show though, didn’ it?”

Unwillingly, Tenley cracked a smile, then followed her friends up the steps to the main entrance.

Before they could reach for it, the large door swung open and the shaved head of Blaise Zabini appeared. He quickly pushed past them.

“Oi!” Odin called. “What’s got you all bothered?”

Blaise hesitated on his way down the stairs.

“Have you seen Matilda?” he reluctantly asked.

Camilla’s sympathetic voice rang out, “Still haven’t found her, huh?”

“It’s been almost a week,” he quietly brooded. “Keep an eye out, will you?”

They all agreed before heading inside.

The rest of the weekend passed by without much fuss. Rain soaked the grounds, and made for the perfect excuse to stay indoors. When not relaxing in their own bed chambers, the group of them took over a table in the common room.

Not interested in learning the rules of some complex magical board game, Tenley picked up the deck of cards that Terrance had given her, and taught them all how to play blackjack. They each placed bets with their spare knuts and sickles, which earned Tenley a couple galleons worth of coin.

“You’re not cheating, are you?” Camilla questioned while shuffling the deck.

“Counting cards?”

She shook her head. “No, no. Arithmancy! I bet you can calculate the odds in your head.”

Tenley gave a snort. “If only,” she replied. “Not a bad idea, really.”

“Great,” Odin dripped with sarcasm, “let’s have Tenley take more of our money.”

Amongst the casual ring of laughter, Avery’s timid voice rang out.

“They used to place bets on duels.”

Everyone turned to look at her. It was rare for her to contribute to a conversation unprompted.

Shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention, Avery continued. “In the ledger,” she whispered, “It notes how much was owed to each member.”

“Now that’s dangerous,” Cass bellowed with a wide flash of his smile.

Odin smirked. “What, Warrington? Afraid to blow more of daddy’s money?”

He pulled Odin into a headlock and ruffled his spikey head. “Just don’t want to put you further in the gutter, Sideris.”

Wrestling free, he muttered, “We’ll see about that,” then placed two more sickles on the table.

They played far into the night, until finally, the frequency of their yawns forced them all to make peace with their losses. Some more gracefully than others.

During the next morning’s classes, Tenley struggled to stay awake. Through demonstrations of new theorems and charms, Camilla kept nudging her side to keep her eyes open. Even so, her drowsiness did nothing to quell the anxiety of her upcoming Muggle Studies class.

Sure, she’d seen her dad teach college seminars before, but never to a room full of witches and wizards, and especially not ones who were forbidden from finding out that he wasn’t one. She had no idea what to expect, or what on earth he would talk about.

Over the course of the past week, Tenley had successfully only seen her dad in passing.

In all honesty, she didn’t want to see him. His presence was a stark reminder that her parents did not trust her with certain information, and rather than receive a barrage of half-truths, she’d rather avoid those conversations altogether.

Even still, she dutifully found the classroom tucked away in the south corner of the first floor. When she walked in, she noted how cramped the room was. Everywhere, shelves and cabinetry overflowed with displays of ordinary household items, such as blenders, gardening tools, and collections of vintage vinyl records.

In the middle of the room, there sat a dozen or so school desks, each with an individual chair connected to a small tabletop. They appeared in an assortment of shapes and colors, as if acquired from different thrift shops.

Only a handful of desks were filled.

Claiming the back row, she recognized the red-headed Gryffindor twins.

There also stood three yellow-clad students that she’d seen walking with Cedric. She’d gathered that the girl with translucent skin was Summer Marks. Then, there was short and burly Graham Appleby, and another guy named Tony Rickett who always looked like his mind was someplace else.

They did nothing to hide the shock and disdain on their faces as Tenley walked through the door. She chose a spot near the back, away from her supposedly “patient” and “loyal” peers who were busy whispering in each other’s ears about her.

“Don’t often see Slytherins in here, do we, George?”

Tenley turned around to see the twins leaning back in their chairs, grinning ear to ear. In response, his brother said, “Can’t say we do, Fred.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” she shrugged. “I hear it’s a boring class.”

“That all you’ve heard?”

She thought back to her conversation with Odin the other night. He seemed genuinely upset over the course content.

Just then, the bell tolled as her dad strode through the door.

His scruffy hair looked more maintained than usual, but he wore the typical sport coat that brought out the blue in his eyes. He lifted his leather briefcase onto his small desk, then took a breath to take in the room.

“Welcome!” he exclaimed, beaming at each of his students. “My name is Gerry Wright, and I’ll be filling in for Professor Burbage this year. I understand that this will be an adjustment for us all. You see, for the last sixteen years, I’ve been teaching non-magic students – ‘muggles’, as you call them.”

Incredulously, Fred blurted, “You what?”

“Yes, I taught ‘Anthropology of Magic’ at Montana State.” With a little pump of his fist, he added, “Go Bobcats.”

Tenley sank low into her chair as the other students looked at him like he had spoken a foreign language. He clarified, “It’s a college in America.”

The blank stares continued.

“Ah, I see that means nothing to you,” he finally said. “How much do you all know about the non-magic education system?”

From the front row, Summer called out, “I have a cousin who goes to university!”

“Wonderful! Non-magic family. That’s a great place to start.” He looked around the room. “How many of you have muggle family members?”

Tenley froze, unsure how to answer.

Everyone else raised their hand, except for Fred and George in the back.

Nodding his head, Gerry replied, “We’ll be able to draw quite a bit from your individual experiences. Unpack the cultural differences!”

He casually leaned against the front of his desk.

“I’ll be learning from you as well. You see, since my students didn’t know about the wizarding world, I talked about how the belief in magic has shaped different communities and cultures over time. Now with this opportunity to teach young wizards and witches, I get to re-examine my research through a different lens.”

“I’ve had to make some tweaks to my usual lesson plan, but I think you’ll find it useful to study the non-magic perspective from someone who’s lived… among it. On that note, quills and parchment away!”

Gerry reached into his briefcase and extracted a bundle of #2 pencils and a stack of college-ruled spiral notebooks. He walked through the middle aisle of desks, passing them out. He gave a wink to Tenley as he handed her a notebook and pencil.

Most of the room inspected the items in a curious fashion. Tenley watched as one girl gingerly poked the sharp end of her pencil, while others flipped through the bright lined pages of their notebooks.

With a jovial clap of his hands, Gerry explained. “This here is a standard writing utensil made of wood and lead. A wonderful invention that allows one to write and erase mistakes with the pink eraser on the other end. Give it a try!”

From the front of the room, a Hufflepuff boy murmured, “I never thought about that…. They can’t use a spell to erase mistakes.”

“Exactly!” Her dad declared with delight. “It is my hope that each of you can appreciate muggle ingenuity throughout history. Without potions or spells, muggles continue to find creative ways to better their lives.”

He began to slowly pace across the small space in front of his desk.

“Now, I want to learn more about each of you and your familiarity with this subject. For your first assignment, I would like you to write about your personal experience with the non-magic world. How much do you know about it?” he mused. “If you grew up in the wizarding world, when did you first learn about muggles? What was your perception of them? If not, what has been your experience assimilating into the wizarding world? No wrong answers. I’d just like you to reflect on your experience before we dive into deeper subject matter next week. Any questions?”

“You’d like us to write in these?” George asked, raising a notebook in the air.

“Yes! Thank you. Please use these materials for all assignments. I will collect your notebooks at the beginning of next class.”

Once the hour had ended, Tenley took her time gathering her things as the rest of the students filed out of the room. Gerry directed his attention to his daughter.

“Settling in alright, T-leaf?”

She sighed, “Surviving.”

He gave her a knowing look, then chose a cheerful tone. “It’s surreal, isn’t it? One moment, I’m discussing the importance of rituals in Ancient Rome, and now I’m explaining the utility of a pencil,” he chuckled. “It’ll take some time to get used to.”

She quietly nodded, then made her way to the door.

“Tenley, I- I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you ahead of time.”

Against her better judgement, Tenley paused to ask, “Why didn’t you?”

Her dad rubbed the back of his neck, then squinted up at her. “Would you believe me if I said it was to protect you?”

Rolling her eyes, she ducked out of the room, and headed towards her next class. Trying to pry more information out of him had proven to be a waste of time, and so was dwelling on it. Therefore, Tenley spent History of Magic consumed by far more important thoughts.

In less than twenty-four hours, she would be with Cedric.

Their planned meet-up couldn’t come soon enough, and the anticipation of it carried her through breakfast and into Herbology the next morning.

This time, as she walked through the greenhouse, she recognized a couple Ravenclaws from the basement of the Hog’s Head, who each gave her a subtle nod. Less than subtle, Roger Davies, looking all too proud of himself, commented “nice bracelet” as she took her seat.

“Thanks,” she replied dully, eyeing the dagger on her wrist.

Participating in an underground society with her friends was one thing, but Tenley found no pleasure in sharing a secret with this guy.

Nevertheless, he could still prove to be useful.

She barely touched the vitanima root they were tasked with polishing today. Roger carefully extracted each root from the appropriate twigs and made a small pile of thin swirling green vines. She watched as he bathed each in a potion, then delicately dried the vines until each strand gleamed silver.

Once Professor Sprout declared the end of class, Tenley quickly gathered up her notes and darted for the door. As she skipped up the stone path toward the castle, she pictured Cedric casually standing with his hands in his pockets, waiting for her by the library entrance.

Suddenly, a wall of wind sprung up, whipping her braids across her face and causing the loose pieces of parchment to fly out of her hands. As she bent down to collect them, a faint yowl caught her ear.

Tenley turned toward the forest.

There, only a few yards away, she saw a plot of leaves shake from their branches, then a silver ball of fur saunter out onto the lawn.

“Matilda!”

The large green eyes of Blaise’s cat stared back at her. She stood frozen with her tail in the air.

Tenley quickly strode over to the tree line. “C’mon, girl, let’s get you back.”

As she approached, Matilda darted into the bushes.

Sighing heavily, she took a longing look back at the castle, then begrudgingly followed the cat into the forbidden forest.

It’d only take a minute, Tenley told herself.

Swallowed by the greenery, her shoes sank into the mossy forest floor. The bark smelled musky and damp from the weekend rain. She continued calling her name and steered herself in the direction of Matilda’s occasional chirp.

Step by step, daylight drifted away.

“Lumos.”

The tip of her wand washed the surrounding brush with a harsh white light, and in the dirt, she spotted the clear imprint of a paw. One after another, the tracks snaked along a narrow footpath.

Encouraged, Tenley followed the prints until they disappeared into a patch of dried brown grass that made up a small circular clearing in the woods.

In the middle, drenched in sunlight, stood only a single aspen tree. Chalk white and pockmarked with black scars from where its limbs had been, the thin trunk led up to sprawling branches set ablaze by scorching red and orange leaves.

Tenley stopped and stared up at it.

The tree seemed to be the only living organism within a fifty-foot radius.

As if hit by a nuclear weapon, all other vegetation within the circle was long dead, crispy and wilted, in stark contrast to the dense green foliage surrounding it.

“Matilda!” she called again.

In response, a rustling came from a nearby bush.

Hopeful, Tenley watched as the sound grew louder and louder.

Too loud, she thought.

Hand gripped tight to her wand, her knees trembled like leaves as a shadowy figure emerged.

“Fitz?”

The blonde-tipped curls of her younger brother appeared through the thick patch of shrubbery. Wearing his trusty headphones, he strolled into the clearing, caught sight of her and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Oh hey,” he breathed, sliding the headphones around his neck. “You scared me.”

“Me?” she said, heart still pounding in her ears. “What are you doing here?”

Ignoring her, his eyes locked onto the prominent aspen tree in the center of the clearing. Open-mouthed, Fitz slowly moved toward it, then began circling around the stark white trunk.

“Fitz!”

His head jerked up and met her exasperated expression.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just… this is it!”

Grinning, he extended his arms out wide.

Her eyes narrowed. “What is?”

“Ten,” he said, bubbling with excitement. “This is the spot where they found Dorothy Kemp’s body.”

Tenley stood impatiently with her arms crossed. “You lost me.”

Pacing back and forth, Fitz animatedly explained. “I listened to every Mystifying Mysteries episode about the forest – you know, all the deaths and disappearances.”

He took a breath before rattling on, “But most of them seem pretty cut and dry. An animal or poisonous plant. Anyway! There was one case that stood out. Dorothy Kemp. Her body was found in this very spot back in 1896.”

“And?”

“They never found the cause of death! There was no trace of magic on her. Only a strange marking around her neck. That… and this tree.” Fitz gazed back at the aspen. “Check out this symbol.”

Tenley moved closer.

Sure enough, carved into the center of the bumpy white bark were thick black etches. Two parallel lines with a circle and two dots in between.

Her fingers brushed over the calloused edges, “What does it mean?”

“No one knows!” Fitz said enthusiastically. “Some say she went crazy, and some think it’s a clue to her killer.”

“How do we know it has anything to do with her?”

“We don’t…” Fitz admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “It wasn’t done with magic, but c’mon! It has to mean something!”

“I thought you didn’t believe in conspiracy theories,” she smirked.

“This is different,” he argued. “There’s actual evidence. I think I can figure it out.”

Skeptically, Tenley shook her head. “A crime that happened a hundred years ago? Who cares?”

“That’s the thing,” Fitz said softly. “No one cared back then. She was muggle-born, so the headmaster at the time swept everything under the rug. What if we can uncover new information?”

“We?” she snorted. “What makes you think I’ll be of any help?”

Tenley didn’t buy his altruistic reasoning for a second. Fitz was a crime junkie first and foremost. An unsolved mystery was too good for him to pass up.

“Well, there were a handful of students who were questioned at the time,” he said as a coy gleam appeared in his eye. “And most of them were Slytherin.”

Tenley gave a sharp laugh.

“So naturally, you assume they had something to do with it,” she replied. “Why are you so desperate to prove that I was sorted into a house full of monsters?!”

“It’s not that!” he insisted. “You can’t ignore history! Dorothy was muggle-born. It’s fair to assume that she was killed based on her blood status.”

“Fine,” she conceded. “Let’s say you, Fitzgerald Wright, heroically uncover her murderer. What then? Everyone involved is probably dead.”

“Doesn’t make the truth any less important,” he said with his head held high. “It’s for her memory.”

“How noble of you,” she grimaced.

“Please, Ten.”

“What’s the plan?” she cried. “Should I go around the common room, asking people if their grandparents ever offed someone?”

“Not what I had in mind.”

“What then?”

“Here,” he said, ripping the headphones from his neck. “You’ve got to listen to this.”

Tenley put her hand up to stop him.

“Not now,” she said, suddenly aware of how much time had passed. “Have you seen a cat around here?”

Puzzled, Fitz shook his head.

“Why do I even try?” she groaned. “Look, I’ve got to go. Can we talk about this later?” As her shoes crunched back over the dead grass, she added, “Don’t stay out here too long, and don’t get eaten.”

With one more look at her little crime-fighting brother, she noticed the disappointment now clouding his freckled face.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she called, then turned to leave.

Quickly tracing back her steps, Tenley eventually resurfaced from the tree line near the greenhouse. There had been no more signs of Matilda, and at this point, she didn’t care. Her main objective now was getting to the library before Cedric decided to stop waiting for her. She had no idea how long she’d been in the forest.

As Tenley raced across the grounds, back to the castle, she kicked herself for wasting so much time.

Breath heavy and sweat beading from her brow, she finally made it to the familiar hallway with the large ornate door at the end. She searched the faces of each student she passed, but didn’t find who she was looking for.

Without warning, she was pulled through a doorway.

Her body knew the culprit before she caught sight of his gentle grey eyes. The only person who could make her skin feel more hot than it already was. She watched him as he closed the door of the empty classroom.

“Hello again,” Cedric said politely as if he hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere.

With a laugh, Tenley leaned her back against the door. “You know, I think there are more subtle ways to get someone’s attention.”

“I’m sorry,” he blushed, resting his hand above her head. “I don’t know what came over me. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“It’s a long story,” she waved away. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

He gave a slight shrug. “I’d say you’re worth the wait.”

This lit a fuse in her chest, sending a cascade of sparks across her shoulders and through her stomach. Trying to appear unfazed, Tenley averted his eyes and shifted her weight under his gaze.

“So… you plan to show me around?”

“I think a proper tour is in order,” he grinned. “Ready?”

Hand on the door handle, she said, “Let’s see what you got.”

“I’ll do my best,” he laughed.

Cedric led the way out into the hallway, and Tenley followed his stride. Side-by-side, she was overly conscious of every time his robe grazed hers.

“You’ve been here a whole week now,” he remarked. “How are you settling in?”

“Oh, just fine,” she replied. “Though I could do with a little less homework. I feel like I’m already behind.”

“You’re not alone. They say sixth year is the worst. All to prep for our future careers.”

She fidgeted at the thought of working in the wizarding world. It has never been an option before. Up until now, the purpose of learning magic had been solely to hide her powers, in hopes of living a normal life. Just like her mom had.

With a quick reply, Tenley said, “I haven’t given it much thought. What are you gunning for?”

“Dad thinks I’d do well in the Wizengamot,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Law?”

“It’s a practical choice.”

Skeptical, Tenley squinted her eyes up at him “And that’s what you want?”

Cedric casually waved at a group of Gryffindors that they passed.

“It’s all part of the plan,” he assured her. “After Hogwarts, I’ll take the bar exam, start as a clerk, then work my way up through the courts.”

“What’s ‘Plan B’?”

He stared curiously down at her. “What do you mean?”

“Moving here wasn’t part of my plan,” she admitted. “Things change.”

There was an uncertain pause as Cedric took in her words.

Finally, he bent his head low, and murmured in her ear, “I sometimes think about being a curse-breaker.”

She smiled up at the confession. “And what’s wrong with that?”

He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. “It’s not what they’ve pictured for me… too dangerous.”

“Your parents?” she questioned.

They made it to the main staircase and started to ascend.

“I’m their only kid,” he explained. “They thought they couldn’t have children, and then miraculously-” He stressed the word like he had heard it hundreds of times. “They had me.”

Tenley gave a polite nod, though she didn’t quite fully understand why this meant he had to practice law. She didn’t press any further.

When they reached the third floor, Cedric stopped at the foot of an open marble ledge that looked out over the moving staircases below.

He checked his watch.

“This one should be back in five minutes.”

Tenley looked up to see other staircases moving slowly above them. “That’ll take some time to get used to,” she mumbled.

“I was thinking we’d go all the way up to the Owlery, but maybe we’ll take a detour first.” He looked down the left hallway, then changed his mind. Turning to the right, he gently grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s go this way.”

Tenley felt like she was floating.

The warmth of his touch radiated up her arm as she walked alongside him.

“I think the trophy room will be here today,” he thought out loud. “Sometimes it appears on the sixth floor-

“Ced!”

Quickly, he dropped her hand at the sight of another Hufflepuff boy walking down the corridor toward them.

The sudden absence of his hand prickled her fingers.

“What’re you up to?” the boy said quizzically. Eyeing Tenley up and down, he landed on the house crest on her chest.

“Oh, just showing a new student around,” Cedric replied nonchalantly.

She reached out to shake the boy’s hand. “Tenley.”

He hesitated, then tentatively took it.

“Sulley,” he said back, then turned to pat Cedric on the shoulder. “Well, good on you for fulfilling your prefect duties. I’ll see you at lunch.”

They waited for him to disappear down the hall before continuing.

The interaction had left Tenley feeling awkward and tense. She tried to ignore it.

“Ah, here it is,” Cedric said while opening the door to the trophy room. She followed him inside.

It was aptly named for the rows of cabinets filled with placards, moving photos, and prizes. Everywhere she looked, silver, gold, and bronze awards gleamed through panes of glass. Tenley slowly spun around to take in the room.

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” Cedric said with a big grin. “Lots of history preserved up here! I’ve found records of my family from centuries ago.”

Tenley slowly walked around sliding her finger along the top of the dust-covered cases. She stopped at a case with a large ornate trophy filled to the brim with little red rubies. A plaque underneath read “1993-1994 House Cup Winner: Gryffindor”.

She felt Cedric close behind her.

“My house hasn’t won since the 70s,” he chuckled. His voice gently caressed her ear. “I guess there are more important things.”

Tenley turned to face him, her back now against the glass case. She breathed in his woodsy scent of cedar and sage.

“What kind of things?” she mused, locking in the warmth of his eyes.

She wanted to feel the grip of his hand again, but with a sudden shake of his head, Cedric broke the spell and took a step back.

“How do you feel about quidditch?” he quickly spouted.

Disappointed, Tenley watched as he sped over to a new display. “It’s new to me,” she begrudgingly replied. “Never been to a game.”

She joined him in front of a massive wall covered in picture frames that reached high up to the ceiling and down to the floor. Like mini-television screens on loop, they saw different stages of students shuffling around to get in position for the camera. All sporting house-colored uniforms with broomsticks in hand.

“You’re kidding!”

“I swear,” she drew an ‘x’ across her heart. “Never even been on a broom.”

After a moment of shock, he grinned, “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she assured him, fiddling with her hands.

He smiled down at her, “C’mon, you’ve never wanted to fly?”

“Not on a broom! Rugs are far sturdier.”

Cedric looked at her like he couldn’t believe his ears. “A rug?”

“I was tutored in the basement of the best-selling magic carpet shop in North America,” she proudly declared.

He shook his head. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.”

With a grin, she added. “I probably won’t be able to avoid quidditch much longer though… now that my mom works for the magical games department and all.”

“Is that why you transferred here?”

“Supposedly,” Tenley frowned. “There’s a lot they won’t tell me.”

Cedric’s head cocked to the side. “Like what?”

She hesitated, then took a deep breath.

“My mom - for as long as I can remember - she wouldn’t touch magic,” Tenley began, “It’s like she was afraid of it.”

Seeing that he was listening, the words started to tumble out of her mouth.

“Then, out of nowhere, she picks it up again - like it’s normal – as if magic hadn’t been banned in our house for as long as I can remember. Then, surprise! We’re moving to London so that she can fulfill some secret lifelong dream to work for the magic government. And now apparently, my dad is teaching here?” she trailed off, leaving out the part about him being a target for blood supremacists.

“You weren’t kidding,” he sympathized. “So, you lived among muggles?”

She nodded, “Even grew up going to a non-magic school.”

“Incredible. I’ve never heard of that,” he pondered. “I wonder what would cause a witch to stop using magic…”

“Whatever it is, it’s not stopping her now,” she muttered.

He considered this for a moment. “Will your mum be involved with the Triwizard Tournament?”

Tenley shrugged, “Potentially.”

A mischievous gleam appeared in his eye. “I’m thinking of entering.”

“Really?” her eyebrows raised. “What’s stopping you?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, leaning his shoulder up against the wall. “Worldwide humiliation.”

“You’re right,” she sighed playfully. “That wouldn’t fit with ‘The Plan’.”

Cedric grinned up through his lashes. “I’m willing to risk it.”

Tenley laughed, “You say that now! Just wait ‘til your battling alligators and mountain trolls!”

“Maybe so,” he conceded, walking over to a cabinet draped in yellow and black. “But I think I’m up for the challenge.”

Jaw set in defiance, he stared thoughtfully at the contents within. She wondered if he was sorting through all that could go wrong, or likely, all the ways people would perceive him.

“You should do it,” she stated plainly.

His head turned towards her, and she watched his lips lift into a half-smile.

In that moment, she knew that he would.

Restless under his gaze, Tenley stepped forward to inspect the newest pictures on the wall. Sure enough, she found Cedric’s bashful grin, putting his arm around a teammate.

“Captain, huh?” she said, spotting the letter “C” sewn on his robes.

He nodded, placing his hands in his pockets.

“Can’t say I led much of a victory though. Brutal competition between the seekers. Harry carried the Gryffindor team, and then Cho-”

“Potter?” she sneered.

“He’s a good kid,” Cedric affirmed. “Can’t help all the attention he gets.”

“Sure,” she replied, unconvinced.

Meandering with her hands behind her back, Tenley’s eyes continued to roam across quidditch teams through the ages. As the decades changed, so did the quality of each photo.

Once she reached the 1960s, a grainy yellowed photo in the far right corner caught her attention.

It showed a tall boy with dark brown skin and short black hair. His round features and dimpled cheeks bore a striking resemblance to Fitz.

Moving closer, Tenley scanned the names at the bottom of the picture:

Raven Seamonds, Chester Gray, Kingsley Shacklebolt…

Towering over his teammates, her young uncle flashed a subtle smile among a sea of green robes.

Slytherin Quidditch Team 1965-1966

Mouth agape and feet frozen to the wood floor, Tenley stared at the aged photograph.

Her mind reeled as she reached up to touch the smooth pane of glass protecting it.

The sorting hat was right. Her family had walked these halls.

Ancestry, it had said, but she had never considered that it could be so recent. Now, reading Kingsley’s name over and over again, she felt like she finally had a lead.

“Tenley?”

Her head whipped back to see the curiosity clouding Cedric’s grey eyes. She wasn’t sure how to convey the weight of this discovery, so she settled on the basics.

“I didn’t know my uncle went to Hogwarts,” she said softly. “That’s him.”

Cedric stepped forward to examine the old team photo.

She felt his closeness. His chest at her back. His hand near her hip. His low voice prickled her ear, “Why would they keep that from you?”

With a small turn of her head, her hair grazed his neck.

“No idea,” she murmured, “But I’m gonna find out.”

Tenley took one last look at the photo, then strode over to the door.

“I’m sorry to cut this short,” she said.

Following her out into the hall, Cedric opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a high-pitched shriek.

They shared a quick glance, then hurried in the direction of loud voices coming from the floor below. Robes billowing behind them, they hopped down the steps, turned the corner together, and stumbled right into a stand-off between her housemates and a handful of Hufflepuffs.

Shoulder-to-shoulder, Tenley and Cedric took in the scene, then quickly stepped apart when they recognized their friends.

Off to the left, she noticed the crew from Muggle Studies.

There was Summer Marks, the sickly girl who looked like she had never seen the sun. She was crouched next to bulky Graham Appleby, who appeared to have been knocked off of his feet. He now sat upright with his thick thighs sprawled out on the floor. All the while, blank-faced Tony Rickett stood unbothered behind them as if still trying to put two brain cells together.

“What’s wrong with you!?” Summer screeched, a hint of color finally reaching her translucent cheeks.

“Lower your voice, would yuh?” Hazel rolled her eyes.

She stood protectively in front of Odin and Camilla, each wearing different shades of guilt. Camilla picked at her nails, trying to calculate their next move. Then, there was Odin, paler than usual, still with his wand drawn.

Summer glared at them.

“You’re wretched, Sideris!” she seethed. “What did Graham ever do to you?”

For the first time, Tenley thought she saw embarrassment creep across Odin’s face. He kept quiet, inspecting the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Cedric finally stepped forward and offered a hand to his friend, “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” Graham grunted as he was hoisted off the ground. He shook the brown curls from his eyes, then stared straight at Odin. “Just a little misunderstanding.”

Anxious for an explanation, Tenley joined her friends.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Summer interjected. “We were minding our own business when they decided to take target practice out on my boyfriend!”

“Come off it,” Camilla scoffed. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What, Inkwell? You think he just fell on his own?”

“I think it was an accident,” she said, shooting a warning look at Graham. “Right, Appleby?”

He locked eyes with Odin, then gave a proper nod.

“There, how abou’ we chalk this up to nothin’ more,” Hazel suggested with a clap of her hands.

Hesitant, Cedric searched each of their faces. “This isn’t right.”

“Oh joy,” Camilla said dryly. “How lucky we are to have Cedric Diggory on the case. Have another go at getting us expelled, why don’t you?”

With a firm shake of his head, he said, “I only want what’s fair.”

Camilla sauntered over, pointed her finger at his chest, then whispered.

“No one likes a rat.”

“No,” he asserted, “No one likes a snake.”

The air left the room.

Tenley stared at him. His grey eyes were darker than she remembered, and his words needled at her skin. Suddenly, she wanted to be anywhere else.

It was Hazel that corralled them out of the hall.

Tenley felt the pull of her hand leading the way, but didn’t register what was happening until they had reached the bottom of the marble steps.

“I hate them,” Camilla said plainly.

“Righ’,” Hazel agreed, then smacked Odin’s shoulder. “Bu’ what the hell was that? Tryin’ tuh get us detention?”

He gave an apathetic shrug.

His unusual silence only gave Hazel more of a runway.

“And a trip jinx!?” she exclaimed. “Are you twelve? I mean, don’ get me wrong, I love any chance tuh make Summer Marks squirm, but c’mon, it jus’ wasn’ smart of yuh.”

Odin continued to stare straight ahead, pretending not to hear her.

“Let him be,” Camilla smirked. “He’s allowed to be an idiot every once in a while.”

“And to be caugh’ by Diggory,” she shook her head. “I’m a prefect too, yuh know! Makin’ me look bad…”

Tenley’s stomach churned.

The truth of her situation had become clear, and as she dragged her feet toward the dungeon, it burrowed deeper and deeper into her chest.

Cedric was a pipe dream. He was made up of all of the things that she wasn’t.

Just then, the bell tolled, marking the end of another class period. As the hall began to fill, there was one person that crossed her mind. A source of comfort that happened to be only a few doors away.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” she called to her friends before darting towards the south corner of the first floor. When she arrived, she carefully opened the door and scanned the small classroom to make sure no one else was there.

The coast was clear.

“Dad?”

Gerry looked up from his desk.

“Hey T-leaf,” he beamed. Capping his pen, he stood up from his chair. “I was just thinking about you.”

Tenley ran over, and buried her face in the breast of his navy sport coat as he wrapped his arms around her. After a week of endless surprises, familiar was exactly what she needed. She felt her dad’s chin move atop her head as he said, “Now what do I owe this pleasure?”

Quickly releasing her, he studied her face. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

At the question, hot tears welled up in her eyes.

More confident than she felt, she assured, “I’m okay.”

Then, she hugged him tight again.

For the first time, she let herself feel the full stress of the week.

Everything was new: her classes, her friends, her clothes, and even her bed. Then, on top of that, there was the hate towards her house, a secret dueling club, an impossible boy, and-

“Hey…” her dad soothed, rubbing her arms, “What do you need?”

Tenley solemnly shook her head.

Gerry thought for a moment, then withdrew his lucky coin from his pocket and held it up to her, “How about we seek some guidance?”

Wiping her tears with her palm, Tenley gave a snort. She knew this trick.

Gerry performatively called out to the empty classroom. “Does my daughter have all the strength and smarts she needs?”

With reddened eyes, she watched him flick the coin straight up in the air.

He caught it and placed it on the back of his hand so that she could see the Ancient Greek woman’s head etched into the glob of gold. “See,” he said. “Heads always means ‘yes’.”

She gave a reluctant smile.

Her dad’s voice reverberated again, “Is she exactly where she needs to be?”

The coin spun and landed back on his hand, still showing the woman, he said. “Heads again.”

Tenley rolled her eyes, “I’m not so sure about that.”

“What can I say,” he grinned up at her, “the coin never lies.”

She cocked her head to the side and said, “If that’s the case… what can it tell me about The Shacklebolts?”

With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand across his scruffy chin, “Not much, I’m afraid.”

Tenley stepped further away from him.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she accused.

“Listen, Ten,” he pleaded. “It makes sense that you want to know more about your family. I would too, but… it’s not my place.”

“I’m getting tired of that answer,” she groaned. “What could be so bad?”

His usual bright eyes grew grave and gloomy.

“Please be patient,” he said. “She’s lost a lot.”

A knock came from the door, and an old man with a long white beard poked his head in.

“Ah, Headmaster,” Gerry perked up. “Come in, come in!”

Smartly dressed in maroon robes, the slender frame of Albus Dumbledore strolled toward them.

“Have you met my daughter, Tenley?”

“Charmed to meet you, Tenley,” he said, his eyes sparkling behind half-moon spectacles. “I hope you’ve been settling in alright. Professor Snape has assured me that you’ve been fitting right in.”

Cautiously, Tenley replied, “Yes, thank you.”

“Now, Gerry, I was hoping we could go over your lesson plan.”

“Yes, of course!” he said, then apologetically turned to Tenley. “Can we continue this later, T-leaf?”

“No need,” she muttered, then made her way to the door.

Tenley felt rigid and rattled as she walked back to the common room.

When she arrived inside, she found the main couches near the fireplace to be empty, so she crumpled onto the black leather cushions and covered her face with her hands.

Odin had said the headmaster would try to manipulate her dad.

Add that to the list of things to worry about.

Seconds away from grabbing a pillow to scream into, she heard a heavy creak.

Tenley lifted her head and watched as one section of the tall wooden bookshelf next to the fireplace raised upward to reveal a hidden entryway.

Blaise Zabini casually strolled out with a book under his arm.

“What the hell?” she breathed, then called out. “Blaise!”

Wearing a bored expression on his face, the younger boy looked back at her as she scrambled to sit upright on the couch.

“I saw Matilda in the forest today.”

A rare glimmer of emotion flashed past his stone face. “Where?”

“By the greenhouses,” she answered. “I couldn’t catch her.”

He nodded stiffly, then turned to leave.

“Blaise,” she tried again.

Eyebrows slightly raised, he looked back at her.

“What’s behind that bookshelf?”

The hidden door had secured itself back into its proper place.

“See for yourself,” he shrugged, then walked toward the boy’s dormitory. Just before disappearing down the spiral stairs, he added. “Tap the frog three times.”

Tenley stood and made her way over to the piece of shelving that had moved just a minute before. It looked no different than the surrounding ones that lined the back wall of the common room. Its dark wood had the same ornate gothic carvings around the edges, and it displayed an array of eclectic keepsakes, such as ancient quidditch gear and busts of supposedly important people. At eye-level, sitting in the left corner, Tenley spotted a figurine of a large stone frog.

Her finger gently patted its smooth head three times, but nothing happened, so she tried tapping it again with her wand instead.

The eyes blinked, and the frog gave an audible croak.

As the shelf lifted, Tenley was met with the musty smell of old parchment.

She walked through the door, and found herself in a small square room lit by an overhanging chandelier emitting bright white flames. One wall was covered with wooden cabinets that housed hundreds of small drawers, and the other was lined with books that sat on shelves and in tall stacks on the emerald carpet. At the back of the room, a long glass case shimmered with a bluish light.

With a thud and a swirling plume of dust, the door shut behind her.

Tenley began to explore.

First, she was drawn to the black file cabinets that reached high up to the ceiling.

She opened a random drawer, and found newspaper clippings that dated all the way back to the eighteenth century. The first one she pulled out was from The Daily Prophet and the headline read “Wizard Death Toll Rises”.

She carefully placed it back in its folder, and moved on to the glowing glass case at the back. Endless vials swirled with a cloud-like substance. Each were labeled with a name, date, and time, like Z. Borgin (4/1/1823) or A. Malfoy (23/11/1946).

“What’s all this?” she murmured to herself.

“Our history,” rasped a hollow voice.

Tenley jumped to find a grown man staring at her with glassy black eyes.

Pearly-white and practically see-through, the man sat cross-legged in a corner armchair, wearing medieval robes with chains hanging by his feet.

She’d seen this ghost before. Once roaming the halls, and sometimes at the end of their table at meals. Now, up close, she noticed the silvery bloodstains that seeped across his chest in splatters and pools.

“Bloody Baron,” she acknowledged.

He bowed his head, then floated toward her.

“It’s tradition!” he explained in a hoarse whisper. “Before they leave, students will store a memory, safeguarding a piece of them forever amongst their brethren.”

“Memory?” she said, scrunching her nose. “Like… you can see it?”

He gave a nod, then added. “Only with the proper equipment - which has not been allowed in these halls for some time now.”

“Why?”

“Students used to spend days standing around the Pensieve,” he said. “One can easily be allured and trapped by the past.”

Tenley muttered, “If you can’t see them, what’s even the point?”

“The point,” he grimaced, “is not for childish amusement. It’s preservation of our most precious moments.”

“Sure,” she said, then motioned toward the wall of books. “And these?”

Patience thinning, the ghost gave a heavy sigh. “Every work written by or about a former Slytherin.”

“Why not keep them in the main library?”

The Bloody Baron scoffed. “Child, they began censoring us centuries ago. We cannot trust them to keep accurate records of our history.”

Tenley studied his disgust. “Them?”

“Those that mock and belittle us. Those that refuse to see the constant threat we’re under!” he croaked.

Although she didn’t quite get the meaning of his words, she felt the weight of them. His nervous energy was contagious. It spread through her, gripping her spine and inhabiting every cell of her body.

“The survival of our kind hangs by a thread that grows thinner each day,” he cried. “Do you understand what I’m saying, child?”

She gulped, then shook her head.

“It’s kill, or be killed.”

* * *

The next morning, Tenley moodily slumped onto the bench and laid her head on the breakfast table. Not only had her conversation with the Bloody Baron left her in an uneasy state, but she had spent the rest of the afternoon and evening tucked away in the secret room, scouring through as many records as possible.

“Rough night?” Cass grinned.

She lifted her head and groaned, “I don’t even know where to start,”

“Didn’ see you at dinner,” Hazel observed through a mouthful of toast.

“There’s this room behind a bookcase-”

“The Archive?” she asked. “What were yuh doin’ in there?

Tenley explained the photograph she found, and why she was looking for more information about her family. However, she purposely left out the detail of who accompanied her in the Trophy Room.

“Shacklebolt,” Odin pondered. “I swear I’ve heard that name before… Did you check the obituaries?”

Tenley shook her head.

“Oi, look who’s talkin’ again,” Hazel beamed at Odin. “No longer givin’ us the silen’ treatmen’, huh?”

Odin looked down at his plate and became very interested in his bacon.

“I heard about that!” Cass roared. “What’d Appleby do? Look at you funny?”

“Yeah,” Odin mumbled, then he turned the focus back to Tenley. “What were you saying about your dad?”

She frowned, “Dumbledore wanted to talk about his ‘lesson plan’.”

“I knew it!” Odin cried. “He’ll do whatever he can to push his own agenda.”

Suddenly, a flash of blue robes slid next to Tenley.

The Slytherins stared at the boy like he had three heads.

“Hey Ten,” Fitz said, then gave an awkward nod to her friends, “Hi everybody.”

“This is my little brother, Fitz,” Tenley explained, then added. “It’s good you’re here, I gotta tell you about-”

“I sent an owl to Mystifying Mysteries,” he blurted, buzzing with excitement.

“Your radio show?” she asked. “Why?”

As if it was obvious, he answered, “To see if they can give me any more details on Dorothy Kemp.”

“Oh right,” she muttered. “Your murder mystery…”

“I’m telling you, Ten, I’ve got a good feeling about this.” He scanned her friends, then turned back to his sister. “We’re gonna find out what really happened.”

“There you go with the ‘we’ again,” she smirked. “Listen, I’ve got to get to class, but we do need to talk.”

Intrigue lit across his face.

As they all stood from the table, Camilla sardonically said, “Yes, it’s time to see our dear Hufflepuff friends.”

Tenley’s stomach lurched at the thought.

“Let’s try to refrain from any bloodshed,” she continued. “Right, Odin?”

He rolled his eyes at her.

Each step toward the dungeons, Tenley felt like she was walking towards the gallows. As they entered the cold stone classroom and made their way to their seats, she averted looking at the other side of the room. However, that did not stop her from feeling the weight of all the Hufflepuff eyes on them.

Camilla shot a wink and smile in their direction.

As they settled in, Tenley snuck a glance to see Summer’s hand protectively around Graham Appleby. The chair next to them was empty. Cedric’s usual spot.

At the faint toll of the bell, Professor Snape rose from his chair. Head of Slytherin House, he had long slicked-back hair, a prominent hooked nose, and he spoke in a disinterested drawl.

“Turn to chapter three of your textbooks,” he instructed, and they all dutifully took out their own copies of Advanced Potion-Making. “Now that you’ve reached the N.E.W.T. level, it is expected of you to have a grasp on alchemical processes.”

“Alchemy is not something to take lightly. Many have devoted their lives to it, and many have failed. The end goal being to perfect and protect the human soul. Although many attempts have been made, the most notable achievement was the creation of the philosopher’s stone. Can anyone tell me the wizard who discovered it’s Twelve Keys?"

A Hufflepuff girl in the front row raised her hand. “Nicolas Flamel?”

“Incorrect,” Snape replied. “He’s the only modern wizard who succeeded in creating the stone. Anyone else?”

Hazel casually glanced at her textbook, then confidently stated the answer, “Basil Valentine.”

“Very Good, Miss Crane,” he smirked. “Ten points to Slytherin.”

Cass gave her a pat on the back.

“Today, you will begin the transmutation of lead into silver,” Snape continued. “Follow the instructions on page eighteen, and by the end of class, your cauldrons should be filled with a fine white powder.”

Tenley peered inside her cauldron and noticed a large metal ball, presumably lead. On the table, there were various mortars filled with a colorful array of strange substances. She lit a fire, then began reading through the first steps.

Next to her, Camilla whispered, “Can you hand me the pearl ash?

Tenley reached for the bowl of fluffy white particles, and in the process, her elbow collided with a porcelain jar, causing it to fly off the table. It shattered and bright pink sea salt scattered across the stone floor.

Begrudgingly, Professor Snape flicked his wand. Porcelain shards and salt grains swirled together and landed in the palm of his hand, fully repaired.

“This will not do,” he said, lips thin.

Just then, the dungeon door opened. Cedric stepped in and set his bag down on his chair. He started to say, “I’m sorry, sir, I was-”

“Save it,” Snape snapped, then waved his hand in Tenley’s direction. “Make yourself useful and show Miss Wright to the storeroom.”

Her chest tightened.

Cedric hesitated, then gave a nod.

Mortified, she followed him out into the hall. They silently walked together along the torch-lit walls until they reached a door. He held it open to reveal a small walk-in cupboard displaying endless jars that carried an overall aroma of vinegar and sweetgrass. Tenley stepped inside and quickly spotted the salt. As she reached up high to grab the pink vial, she felt his eyes on her.

“Tenley, I-”

He double-checked that no one was around, then entered the cupboard and closed the door, leaving little room between them.

A single lantern loomed overhead, flickering a warm glow across his face.

“I should’ve warned you about your housemates.”

“Warned me?” She whispered. Her eyes narrowed. “Warned me about what?

“This isn’t the first time they’ve caused trouble,” he explained in a hushed tone, searching for the right words. “They’ve had it out for us for a while.”

“Was that before or after you tried to get them expelled?”

“Tenley,” he said, trying to reason with her. “They were running some kind of underground club. Someone could’ve gotten hurt. I had to do something.”

She nodded.

The image of Cho’s back slamming into a chair came to mind. She didn’t blame him for doing his job… but she also didn’t like the way he was talking about her friends.

Defensively, she said, “They mean well.”

“Is that what you saw yesterday?”

“Odin feels bad about what happened! I can tell,” she urged, then added. “Listen, I don’t know the full history between you guys, but there’s no way it’s just one-sided.”

With a shake of his head, he sighed, “You shouldn’t tie yourself to that lot.”

“And what? Your friends will welcome me with open arms?” She pointed to the patch on her chest. “I’m a snake, remember?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean that. Not about you.”

“You can’t even stand the thought of being seen with me!”

“It’s nothing to do with you,” he faltered. “You’re not like them.”

“Because you know me so well,” she muttered.

Cedric reached for her hand, and she felt his warm fingers wrap around hers.

“I want to.”

She stared up at him.

A slight chill ran up her spine, sending tingles through her neck and up through her ears. For a minute or maybe only a moment, there was nothing but the sound of shallow breaths. Every cell in her body gravitated towards him as his head tilted downward. Mouth slightly parted, her chin drifted forward to meet his lips.

Still, there was one thought she couldn’t shake.

“We can’t,” she finally breathed.

Mustering whatever strength she could, she stepped back and pulled her hand from his. Confusion flashed across his eyes as he painstakingly searched hers for an answer.

Swiftly, she flung open the cupboard door and strutted back out into the hall.

He rushed to catch up with her.

Before she could re-enter the classroom, Cedric’s arm blocked the door.

“Help me understand,” he pleaded.

She closed her eyes and twisted the silver band around her wrist.

When she finally opened them, there he was, patiently waiting. The boy with golden hair and eyes like steel. The boy from the train.

Tenley wished things were different. She wished she were different.

Quietly, she aired the fear that had gripped her since yesterday’s altercation.

“One day you’ll realize,” she said, “I’m no different than them.”

As it registered, his limbs went slack, and Tenley moved past him without another word.

Tenley spent the next few days holed up in the Archive.

Under the flicker of white flames, skimming through old documents was a welcome distraction. For whenever she thought of her last conversation with Cedric, a dull blade twisted inside her gut.

His position was clear. He wanted nothing to do with her friends, and she wasn’t going to waste her breath trying to convince him otherwise.

For the first time in her life, she had people in her corner.

Sure, they were brash and wily and a little unnerving at times, but then again, was she any better? They had accepted her right away. It felt good to be a part of their circle, and now that she’d found such comfort, Tenley didn’t want to let it go.

Not saying it was easy.

Every so often, she remembered the touch of his hand or the subtle scent of cedar on his skin.

The knife plunged deeper.

Tenley rubbed her eye, and directed her attention to the newspaper clippings scattered around the table where she sat. She wondered who was in charge of collecting and organizing the Archive’s many shelves and drawers of content. She hadn’t quite figured out the filing system. It seemed almost as arbitrary as Terrance’s bookshelf in the rug shop basement.

Even so, she’d finally managed to track down a pile of obituaries.

Odin thought his parents had attended a Shacklebolt funeral recently, and sure enough, after scanning a dozen or so clippings, she finally found a hit. The column read:

Cynthia Shacklebolt passed away peacefully at her home of over fifty years, on May 13, 1994, at the age of 76. Preceded in death by parents Cerberus and Mary Aspinwall, and husband Thames Shacklebolt. Survived by sisters Dorthea Nott and Leona Fawley, many loving nieces, nephews and devoted friends. If you knew Cindy, she always kept an owl nearby to chat with friends. If you’re lucky, you’ve had many helpings of her famous plum pudding. She will be deeply missed. Memorial will be held at Oak Park Chapel...

Just then, Tenley heard the creak of the hidden bookcase rise behind her. She turned to find the heavyset frame of Camilla carrying a plate of food. Setting it down in front of Tenley, her lips lifted into a smirk.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” she said.

Without hesitation, Tenley grabbed a biscuit and mumbled a muffled “thanks” through a mouthful. It had been a while since she’d eaten a full meal. The Great Hall carried the high risk of seeing a certain Hufflepuff, and she wanted to avoid that for as long as possible. Her strict routine of class, then common room, had so far been successful. However, she still hadn’t figured out what to do about the next Potions class…

Camilla’s bracelets jingled as she pulled up a chair next to her, “What’s the latest?”

Tenley slid the obituary over for her to read.

“You know any of these people?” Camilla asked.

She shook her head. “Could be third cousins for all I know.”

“Still, it’s something,” she encouraged, then added. “I can’t imagine not knowing my family. When the Inkwells get together, it’s bloody mayhem… exploding snap and enough spiced mead to fill the Black Lake.”

Tenley politely smiled, “Sounds fun.”

In all honesty, she liked her family’s quiet life in Montana. Holidays were small and simple. They had their own little traditions each year, like watching the same movie every Halloween or making waffles on Christmas morning. Her and her dad liked blueberry while Fitz would no doubt demand chocolate-chip.

Fitz…

She’d been so wrapped up in her own world that she’d forgotten about him.

“Is it too late for me to get to Ravenclaw tower?”

“To see your brother?” Camilla asked, then offered. “Just send him a note.”

Tenley smiled as an image came to mind of a pink origami crane pecking at Cass’s head. She watched Camilla take out a quill and a spare piece of parchment, “Here. Write on this.”

She scribbled the following note:

When she slid it back, Camilla quickly folded the paper into an airplane. Then, with a swish of her wand, the plane took off from the table like it was a runway. It flew in a circle above their heads while Camilla walked over to raise the bookcase door.

The paper zoomed out in search of its recipient.

“It’ll find him,” she assured.

The next morning, Tenley made her way to the outdoor courtyard. There was a brisk autumn chill in the air. When she spotted a boy wearing headphones and a blue scarf around his neck, she sat down next to him on the bench.

“Where’ve you been?” her brother asked, handing her a napkin with a piece of buttered toast and three slices of bacon inside.

Between bites, Tenley told him all about the secret door leading to the Archive.

Fitz frowned. “They keep their own record of history?”

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, giving his arm a playful slap. “They’re worried about things getting lost or misinterpreted over time. What’s wrong with preserving the full story?”

He side-eyed her, “If you say so.”

“More importantly!” she transitioned. “I’ve discovered that our very own uncle - Kingsley Shacklebolt – not only went to Hogwarts, but also happens to be a member of Slytherin house,” she revealed smugly.

“Cool.”

“Cool?” she repeated. “Fitz, this means we can find out more about Mom’s past. If Kingsley went here, it’s likely that more of our family did!”

“I say we let it go,” he shrugged, then removed the headphones from his neck. “Will you please listen to this episode now?”

Incredulous, she replied, “You’re not curious?”

“Why does it matter? Won’t change anything.” he argued, then held out the headphones again. “Please.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, placing the foam circles over her ears. “Let’s see what’s got you so worked up.”

The headphones connected to a silver cassette player that he held in his hand. Fitz eagerly pressed play, and a deep grainy voice filled her ears.

“Welcome back, Mystifiers,” he said. “I’m your host, Damian Powell, and I’m joined by our returning guest, Elias Runkle. One of the ministry’s finest MCI agents.”

A gruff, older man’s voice croaked. “No, no, Powell. I haven’t been an agent for many years now.”

“Nonsense,” Powell declared. “Your investigative prowess practically filled half the cells in Azkaban, which is why we’re excited to have you here to talk about a highly requested case. Are you familiar with the name Dorothy Kemp?”

“You could say that,” Runkle replied. “Why, that case has baffled the Magical Crimes Investigation unit for decades, and for good reason. In all my service, I never saw anything like it.”
“Surely, you’ve had cases without magical prints?”

“Of course, of course,” he affirmed, then explained. “Wands aren’t the only weapons that wizards use. We’ve seen our share of blades and poisons. Especially when it’s premeditated, the prevalence of non-magic methods increases. Criminals assume we’ll just blame the muggles.”

“So, what was so unique about Miss Kemp?” Powell pressed.

“Have you seen the pictures? This was no common strangulation,” he added with fervor. “And they never found the cause. Whatever was wrapped around her neck… it constricted like a snake.”

“And no spell could’ve done that?”

“That’s the thing… even bewitched objects will leave a trace.” Runkle continued, “There was nothing, not even a hint of magic found on the tree. A knife carved those symbols.”

With a dark, almost sultry tone, the radio host turned his attention back to the listener. “For those just joining us, seventeen-year-old, Dorothy Kemp, was found in the forest surrounding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the spring of 1896.” Powell continued, “Just days before she’d complete her studies, the gamekeeper found her body lying next to a tree with a symbol etched in the wood. How would you describe the symbol, Runkle?”

“Numbers,” he confidently stated. “It’s clearly a one, zero, colon, one.”

“Interesting. Do you have a theory of what it could mean?”

“Matthew 10:1”

Powell nearly choked. “A bible verse? That’s a new one.”

“Not just any verse,” Runkle continued. “It talks about disciples being given the power to drive out ‘impure spirits’. I don’t think it’s a stretch that our killer signaled their motive.”

“That Dorothy was muggle-born, you mean.”

“Exactly,” he said. “This was at a time when muggle relations were extremely poor. There were reports of infighting within the Minister of Magic’s own cabinet about whether or not to continue allowing muggle-born students into schools, let alone graduate into our workforce!”

“And is that the reason for the cover-up?”

“Phineas Nigellus Black was the headmaster at the time,” Runkle explained. “A known supporter of traditional pure-blood values. I think it’s safe to say he had a hand in making this story disappear.”

“Not to mention… his own son was a suspect.”

“Right,” he confirmed, “Phineas Junior. There was a group of them that were questioned. All Slytherin. Said to have threatened Dorothy earlier in the week.”

“And nothing came of it?”

“There was no proof,” he sighed. “Especially with no murder weapon.”

“Well, Runkle, we’ve given a lot of focus to her death so far,” said the host. “I think it’s only right that we take a moment to reflect on her life. One of Dorothy’s classmates, Greta Griffin, sat down with us a few years ago to talk about her friend. Let’s roll the tape.”

The soft musical voice of an elderly woman rang out.

“Dottie was the greatest,” she began. “That girl knew everything. Always scribbling in her book… we would joke that she could even predict who we would marry or how many children we would have, and I swear, she ended up being right!”

Greta took a deep breath, and her voice grew grim.

“She was always running off to the forest. Never wanted company. It wasn’t thought of as dangerous back then… I just wish I would’ve gone with her-”

Tenley abruptly ripped the headphones from her ears.

“Okay, I get it,” she said dryly. “Tragedy. Trauma. So sad. What’s your point?”

“Did you get to the part about the kids who threatened her?”

“The headmaster’s son?”

Fitz looked at her expectantly. “And…?”

Tenley’s brow furrowed.

With bright eyes, he explained. “The group was identified as Phineas Black, Walter Nightingale, and Cornelia Inkwell.”

As the name registered, she hung her head in silence for a moment, then gave her brother a stern look.

“Really?” she grumbled. “Camy is your answer? You think my friend knows some dark family lore about this girl’s murder?”

“That, and...” Fitz fumbled for a response, “you said yourself! There’s a whole separate library of information that only Slytherins have access too. What if there’s something in there?”

Tenley shook her head. “How are you so enthralled by this case, and not interested in your own family?”

Fitz was quiet for a moment, then whispered.

“Maybe there are some things we’re better off not knowing.”

* * *

Over the course of the next few weeks, Tenley hadn’t found any time to dedicate to the Archive. There simply was too much homework to think about much else. Her friends took up a corner in the common room almost every evening just to compare notes and review each other’s papers. Between the six of them, there was bound to be someone who had paid attention.

She learned quickly that Hazel was the go-to for spell practice, and Odin had a knack for Herbology. Cass liked to say he was only there for “moral support”, however, Tenley found his Astrology star charts to be the most useful to copy.

When it came to Camilla, she had mastered the concept of ‘quid pro quo’. Tenley provided her Arithmancy calculations, and in return, she transfigured her bed cushions to be cozier and successfully performed an eyelash extension charm on her. As for Avery, she seemed deeply uninterested in anything other than reading, so much so, that Tenley wondered how she completed any of her assignments.

Unfortunately, it was History of Magic that Tenley had to suffer through alone. Although Odin still had a lot to say about the errors of her textbook, especially when Professor Binns began lecturing about the Witch Trials of 1692.

“Like this!” he said, pointing to a particular paragraph. He read aloud, “Of the twenty people executed for practicing witchcraft in Salem, only three of them had magic origin.”

“Only three,” he spat. “Like it was nothing. And not one mention of what this proves! Muggles would go on a killing rampage if they knew we existed.”

Hazel patted his hand, “And yer killin’ the mood righ’ now.”

They all laughed, but it was true. The last thing any of them needed was to dwell on a hypothetical massacre. Not when there were classes like Defense Against the Dark Arts to worry about. Moody had started to test every student on their ability to fight off the Imperius Curse. Every period, they wondered what embarrassing positions he would force them into. She watched Avery walk like a crab and Cass perform a perfect ballet pirouette. When it came to her turn, the relaxing sensation of the curse convinced Tenley to flap her arms and soar around the room. No one had come close to beating it.

“Potter’s done it,” Moody grunted one lesson. “Threw off the curse entirely.”

Tenley joined everyone in a collective groan.

Of course he had. From what she’d heard, this kid had everyone wrapped around his little finger. Everyone except Severus Snape.

Moving around the room to inspect everyone’s cauldrons, Snape paused in front of dull-eyed Tony Rickett. “I haven’t seen anything this bad,” he said in a despondent drawl, “since Harry Potter’s last potions exam.”

A chorus of snickers came from one side of the room.

She glanced over to see the disappointed shake of Cedric’s head, then quickly turned her attention back to her station. Despite many attempts, Tenley had failed to forget his existence. Whenever he was near, his presence noisily pressed upon her mind, making it extremely difficult to focus on almost anything else.

This was the reason she’d come to dread Potions. To the point where, one day, she just decided not to go. Instead, she hung out in the common room and brushed up on some charms. Lying on the couch, she practiced magically moving chess pieces across a board while playing a tune on the piano. Absent-mindedly twirling her wand around her gold-threaded braid of hair, she decided that the accent string should match her house colors. It took a few tries, but finally, she managed to change it from gold to silver.

When Camilla and Hazel returned that afternoon, they were in awe of her.

“Careful Tenny,” Hazel said. “He may be head of our house, but he won’ hesitate to throw yuh in detention.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tenley waved away, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“I told him you were in the hospital wing,” Camilla assured her.

As Tenley sat thinking about how she was going to explain her sudden ailment, Cass’ large body came bounding down the granite stairs and landed in front of the leather couch where they were lounging.

“Did you see it?”

They gave each other a confused look, then Hazel asked, “See wha’?”

“The tournament!” he exclaimed. “It’s happening! The two other schools will be here next Friday.”

“Take it easy there, Cass,” Camilla smirked, “You haven’t been crowned Hogwarts champion yet.”

He was telling the truth. A large sign had appeared in the entrance hall announcing “The Triwizard Tournament” with students arriving from Beaubatons and Durmstrang on Friday, October 30th.

Once the news had spread, it galvanized the school into a frenzy.

The cranky caretaker, Mr. Filch, led a massive cleaning, causing the halls to smell faintly of antiseptic. Not to mention, for the entire next week, teachers seemed far more on edge than usual. Even Tenley’s dad must have gotten the memo to smarten up, for he urged his classes to refrain from mentioning that they’d spent the past few weeks watching movies.

Gerry had found a VHS player in the remnants of junk that lined the classroom, so he thought it was the perfect opportunity to show his students how the muggle world perceived magic. They started off with The Wizard of Oz, moved to Mary Poppins, then watched an episode of the old American sitcom, Bewitched.

When Friday finally arrived, Tenley and Camilla made their way from double Arithmancy to join the lines of students along the front castle steps. A cloudless purple sky accompanied the moon that shone brightly over them. Whispers sprung up through the crowd as curious onlookers anxiously awaited their guests to arrive.

“Will they apparate?” Adrian Pucey muttered.

“Can’t,” Odin replied. “No one can apparate in or out of the grounds.”

From the back of the assembly, they heard Dumbledore call out, “Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

Amidst the murmurs of confusion, Camilla pointed toward the forest, and shouted, “There!”

They followed her finger to see two giant horses flying toward them at breakneck speed. Close behind, it appeared they were pulling a pale blue carriage that could easily be mistaken for a three-story house. In seconds, the enormity of the contraption became even clearer as it closed in on them. Tenley felt a strong gust of wind from the flapping of the horses’ wings as they braced for impact. With a heavy thud, both the horses and the carriage landed onto the grass before them.

A boy in powder blue robes emerged, and with a wave of his wand, golden steps cascaded from the carriage door. There were gasps as a massive high-heeled woman stepped out. Her tree-trunk sized legs lumbered forward to greet Dumbledore. She stood twice as tall as him. The woman wore a black bob and matching satin robes, and from a distance, it sounded as though she sported a thick French accent. A dozen or so students in silk blue robes exited the carriage and followed the woman into the castle.

Now patiently awaiting the arrival of Durmstrang in a similar fashion, their eyes were trained toward the sky when the loud sound of an unplugged drain met their ears.

“The lake!” yelled a Gryffindor boy. “Look at the lake!”

Suddenly, all eyes were on the Black Lake as its usual serene surface was swirling into a vortex. At the center, a pole began to rise, then a mast, and eventually a full ship emerged from its depths. Under the light of the moon, it glided across the water, and anchored onto the bank.

Students overdressed in fur-lined cloaks disembarked from the vessel and marched toward the castle entrance. At the front of the pack was a thin man, also adorned in furs, with silver hair and a goatee. He shook hands with Dumbledore, then motioned for the rest of his crew to follow him inside.

“No!” Cass whispered incredulously, eyes drawn towards an older boy with prominent eyebrows and a curved nose. “It can’t be.”

Hazel stared open-mouthed after him.

“He’s the quidditch bloke, right?” Odin said.

“Bloke,” Cass scoffed. “That’s Viktor Krum.

“Younges’ seeker in a cent’ry!” Hazel beamed.

According to them, the Durmstrang boy already played for the Bulgarian team. Far from star-struck, her and Odin shared multiple looks of amusement while Hazel and Cass continued to gush about the boy’s quidditch stats.

Following the stream of people into the Great Hall, they sat down at their usual table. Tenley watched the Beauxbatons lot gravitate toward the blue decorations and settle in among the Ravenclaws while the Durmstrang students still apprehensively gathered near the entrance.

Before she knew it, Cass was on his feet, beckoning Viktor Krum and his classmates toward them. They gratefully obliged, discarding their furs to reveal bright red robes, and taking seats along the Slytherin table.

“How hospitable of you,” Tenley muttered to Cass as he returned to his seat.

“What can I say,” he grinned. “They’re our guests!”

When Dumbledore stood, the hall quickly quieted down, buzzing with anticipation.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests,” he announced. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts… I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

Their golden plates filled with an assortment of new dishes that they weren’t accustomed to. It became an easy conversation starter. One of the Durmstrang girls introduced her to the joys of beet salad while Tenley convinced her to try a bite of a Scotch egg.

After dessert, Dumbledore addressed them again, but first introduced a couple ministry officials. Mr. Bartemius Crouch, a tired-looking mustached man, was the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Then, there was rosy-cheeked Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, which was the department her mom now worked in. Dumbledore explained that they would both be on the panel of judges along with himself, and the headmasters of the other two schools.

“The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch,” he motioned over to the caretaker in the corner who now carried an old bejeweled wooden chest.

As the chest was placed before him, Dumbledore explained, “There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

Tenley looked over at Cedric. He was listening intently as Dumbledore mentioned the grand prize: the Triwizard Cup.

When the headmaster tapped the bejeweled chest with his wand, the wood slowly melted away to reveal an ancient-looking cup with blue flames spitting from its rim. He explained that students – specifically those that were seventeen years of age – had twenty-four hours to place their names into the Goblet of Fire.

“Finally,” he declared. “I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”

As they made their way back to the dungeons, Tenley had a few choice words. “A binding magical contract?” she whispered. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s an old tradition,” Odin shrugged. “Best not to mess with ancient magic.”

Despite Tenley’s skepticism towards the entire process, she got up early with the rest of her friends. All dressed in their casual Saturday morning attire, she joined them in the Great Hall at dawn. Above their heads, the ceiling glowed red, mimicking the warmth of the rising sun. As they had hoped, they were the only ones there at such an hour. The Goblet of Fire sat on a stool in the center of the hall, and the six of them perched on top of a house table, gazing at the blue flames that flickered within.

“Alright, Cass,” Camilla patted his shoulder. “It’s your time.”

Chest jutted out, he walked confidently across the room and gently placed a small bit of parchment into the dancing flames.

Echoes of their clapping and hollering bounced around the empty hall.

“No backing out now,” Odin called.

Hazel wrapped her arms around Cass as he sat on the bench at her feet. “What now?” she asked. “Still an hour ‘til brekkie.”

Tenley looked around at them, “Up for another round of blackjack?”

Amid a chorus of agreement, Odin gave a caveat. “Only if I deal this time.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, pulling the deck of cards from her pocket.

A loud wooden groan came from the entrance hall, and they all turned their heads to watch the large door creak open just enough for a boy wearing jeans and a t-shirt to slip through. Tenley didn’t need to see the sharp line of his jaw or the gold specks in his hair to know who it was. The sudden awareness of every inch of her body told her all she needed to know.

“Well, look who it is,” Camilla smirked.

Like a deer in headlights, Cedric hesitated at the door.

“S’alright, Diggory,” Hazel called, “We don’ bite.”

Cass grinned up at her. “Not unless provoked.”

As Cedric stepped forward, the clouds across the ceiling bathed him in vibrant hues of orange and pink. He strolled to the Goblet of Fire and stared into the blue flames. Tenley watched his fingers toy with a scrap of paper in his hand.

“Oh, go on already,” Odin muttered.

He reached up to let the scrap be swallowed by fire, then turned his head towards Tenley. For the first time in weeks, their eyes met, and the entire room melted away.

There was no hint or gleam of a smile.

No, the warmth was gone, but the gravity of his gaze still weighed heavy on her. Feeling the familiar twist of a dagger, she saw her pain mirrored plainly across his face. In that moment, Tenley wanted nothing more than to take it back. She returned to the cupboard in her mind and imagined a different path, but it was too late.

He looked down at his feet.

Suddenly, she was back in the Great Hall surrounded by her friends, and all she could do was watch him walk away.

Throughout the morning, people began to trickle into the Great Hall, much earlier than usual, to witness which students thought themselves worthy enough to represent their school. As the circle around the Goblet of Fire became more and more crowded, Tenley and crew withdrew to the Slytherin table. Every once in a while, they heard the hall erupt in a fit of laughter when an underage student would no doubt try to put their name in the cup. However, after already seeing a couple disastrous attempts, resulting in a kid sporting a full white beard, they lost interest and focused their concentration on the cards in front of them.

That is, everyone except Cass, who was on high alert for a Viktor Krum sighting that never came. Instead, once breakfast was served, they were joined by a Durmstrang student that introduced himself as Miko. He had bright colorless eyes and a prominent square jaw, although that did little to distract from his large ears. Desperately searching for something else to comment on, Tenley landed on his clothes.

“That’s quite the emblem,” she observed.

Miko’s maroon knit sweater displayed what she assumed was the Durmstrang crest. In the center of his chest, there appeared to be a dragon with its wings spread wide sitting atop the bony skull of a ram.

Between bites of porridge, the boy replied in his eastern European accent, “Ve say it’s the Golden Fleece.”

“The what?”

“C’mon,” Camilla elbowed her side. “You must’ve heard about Medea and the Golden Fleece. It’s a classic.”

Tenley shrugged, “Sounds familiar.”

“So it goes,” Miko explained. “Medea vent against her family to help a smertny steal the Fleece.”

“Smertny?”

“Uh, what you say,” he snapped his fingers trying to remember, then the light went on. “Muggle?”

With a nod, Camilla continued, “The story ends with the muggle betraying Medea.” Under her breath, Tenley could’ve sworn she heard her say “serves her right.”

“But what is it?” Tenley looked around the table. “The Fleece?”

Odin flashed a knowing Cheshire-cat smile.

“Oh, here we go,” Hazel said, rolling her eyes.

“The Golden Fleece,” he declared proudly, “is our first account of immortality. Greek lore depicts it as the skin of a ram, and many think… it’s the first soulcatcher.”

A deep-bellied laugh came from Miko.

“Ve got a believer here, huh?”

“Listen, it’s not a wild notion,” Odin defended. “There are wizards throughout history who claim to have achieved it.”

“Dark wizards,” Hazel countered.

“Not always,” he said, then launched into further detail. “It’s said that the Fleece was created by a pair of siblings. The brother, Herpo, played with dark magic while his sister, Helma, refused to. The theory is they both developed different types of methods.”

“Ody,” she sighed. “Ain’t that Helma the Hapless?”

“Your point?”

“She fell into a river and drowned,” Hazel stated, “Yuh think that’s the creator of your precious soulcatcher?”

Looking back and forth between them, Tenley was doing her best to follow along.

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “Not only do you believe that objects can carry people’s souls… but you think the Golden Fleece is one of them?”

“Correct,” Odin affirmed.

Miko cut in, “Ve believe in the Fleece... not so much this ‘soul’ thing.”

“So, what then?” he challenged. “What is it?”

“Ve say it’s a coat! It extends your life if you vear it.”

“Semantics!” Odin exclaimed. “Whatever it is, it makes you immortal.”

Just then, they heard a cacophony of flapping wings that grew closer and closer with each second. They looked up to see a stream of owls circling the now sunny blue-skyed ceiling. Each began to descend upon the students to deliver the Saturday morning mail, including a barn owl that flew down and dropped a brown-paper package in Tenley’s lap. It was a relatively light and small rectangular box.

“Ooo,” Camilla sidled up close to her. “Who’s it from?”

Turning it over in her hands, Tenley found no note attached.

She carefully undid the paper to find a VHS tape. Its cardboard cover had a black and white picture of a ghostly man with wild eyes, slicked-back hair, and a high collar around his neck. In red bubble letters, it read “DRACULA”.

Tenley smiled, “It’s from my mom.”

She looked across the room and found Fitz’ curious face. She raised the tape above her head to show him. He strained his eyes to get a good look, then when recognition hit, he grinned back.

“It’s a movie,” she explained to the table. “We watch it every Halloween.”

Forehead crinkled, Cass leaned over her shoulder to get a better look. “I’ve heard of these,” he said. “It’s the only way for muggles to see moving pictures, right?”

Tenley laughed, “I guess that’s true.”

“Is that supposed to be Count Dracul?” Camilla questioned, staring intensely at the still photograph. “The vampire?”

“Ve hate those things,” Miko said, shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t say that too loud,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “It’s a touchy subject around here.”

Miko scoffed, “Easy for you to say vhen it’s not your people they’re infecting.”

“I’d be curious to see what the muggles think of them,” Odin smirked, reaching out to inspect the tape. In an announcer’s voice, he read aloud from the back cover, “‘Dracula strikes fear in the hearts of villagers’!”

“Something ve can agree on,” Miko muttered.

Hazel thought for a moment, “What do yuh think they say abou’ us?”

“If only you were in Muggle Studies with me,” Tenley teased. “I’d say magic isn’t given too bad of a wrap. Well… aside from a green wicked witch.”

Avery popped up as if she had something to add, then quickly changed her mind and returned to her book.

Odin shook his spikey head, “Sure you’re not getting a sanitized version?”

“I lived in a muggle town, remember?” Tenley pushed back.

“Well, love,” he smirked, and condescendingly cocked his head to the side. “If magic’s so well regarded, how come you couldn’t tell anyone about it?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.

She thought about how all she wanted was to be normal. She thought about her mom, and how wands weren’t allowed in the house. How if given the choice, Tenley would’ve cut the magic out of her body in order to fit in.

This deep disgust she’d felt for her powers, maybe it wasn’t her fault?

These thoughts ate at her for the rest of breakfast, so she kept quiet as the rest of them moved on to pepper Miko with questions about his school. When they finally began to file out of the Great Hall, Fitz caught up with her.

“So, when are we watching it?” he eagerly asked.

Now battling a sour mood, Tenley gave a noncommittal shrug.

He pressed further, “Before or after dinner?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she said, “Tell dad that we’ll meet him in his classroom after dinner.”

With an excited nod, Fitz returned his headphones to his ears, and rushed off in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, Camilla made the executive decision that they should show a group of Durmstrang students around the grounds. Despite the beautiful day, Tenley had no desire left to socialize, so she returned back to the dungeons with Avery.

As she walked beside the pixie-like girl with auburn hair, Tenley realized that she knew virtually nothing about Avery Burke.

Well, except for the fact that she clearly liked to read.

As they both descended the spiral staircase toward their dormitory, Tenley offered up some polite conversation. “So… do you ever spend time in the Archive?”

Avery shook her head. “I prefer fiction.”

“Oh nice,” she replied. “I haven’t read many novels written by wizards…”

Continuing on in silence, Tenley wracked her brain for something else to say, but Avery beat her to it.

“Actually, I-” she began, then stopped herself.

Suddenly, Tenley watched her hop down the last few steps and sprint over to their dorm. Once they were both securely inside, Avery turned her back to the door, and looked to Tenley with wide lemur-like eyes. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amused, Tenley’s hand moved across her lips as if zipping them shut.

Without requiring any further collateral, Avery flitted down the hall, leading Tenley toward her own little cove cut out of stone. When they arrived, she pulled back the emerald curtain to reveal a library of sorts. Every nook and cranny possible were being utilized for book storage. Inlaid along the walls, piled on her windowsill, and even hanging from the ceiling. There were books everywhere. Nearly every inch of floor was covered except for a narrow footpath that led to her bed.

“I’ve seen your room before-” Tenley smirked, then hesitated. Standing among the overwhelming literary display, something did feel off.

Then, it hit her.

No matter the book - small or large, leather-bound or paperback, pink or green or blue – they were blank. Nameless. No titles appeared on any spine or cover.

Behind her, she heard Avery mutter a disillusionment counter-charm.

Suddenly, images and text began to slowly seep onto the outside of every book. Tenley gazed around the little room, then turned her head sideways to read the titles.

Pride & Prejudice… The Hobbit… Little House on the Prairie… To Kill a Mockingbird…

“Ave,” she said, picking up a yellow hardcover copy of Nancy Drew on top the nearest stack. “These are all muggle authors.”

Avery gave a jittery nod.

“Why keep it a secret?” she asked. “I grew up with a lot of these.”

“At home,” she said softly, “I’m not allowed. That’s why I keep them all here.”

“But why?”

“Guess they don’t want me getting any anti-magic ideas,” she offered. “Like they were talking about at breakfast.”

Tenley snorted. “I don’t think you’ll find too much controversy in Little Women.”

“I dunno… I just like them. It’s a nice escape.”

“And our friends? Why can’t they know?”

Avery grew serious.

“They won’t get it,” she said, then added quietly. “I barely get it...”

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a book!” she exclaimed back. “Hell, you’re an English teacher’s dream.”

She shook her auburn head, “Promise you won’t tell.”

Tenley smiled, resisting an eye-roll. “Cross my heart.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in their respective coves. It had been an early morning, and Tenley needed to save her energy for the pending excitement of dinner and a movie. When the time came, they both emerged from their little stone rooms and walked with each other back up to the Entrance Hall.

“So, what are you reading now?” Tenley asked, nodding to the untitled book that Avery clutched under her arm.

“The Moon is Down”, she whispered back.

“Never heard of it… What’s it-”

Just then, Cass bounded up behind them and took hold of their shoulders.

“You two missed it!”

Hazel beamed beside him.

“Brough’ us on their ship and everythin’. Got ourselves a full tour!”

Not far behind was the rest of the crew, chatting away with the Durmstrang lot. They all made their way to their usual seats within the Great Hall. Its Halloween decor was on full display. Firelight flickered from suspended jack-o’-lantern’s, cobwebs crept across walls and windows, and Tenley did her best to ignore the live bats that flew overhead.

An overwhelming buzz of anticipation gripped the room throughout the entire meal as students made their predictions of the coming ceremony. When all plates were cleared, everyone quickly quieted down and their attention was drawn to the front podium where the headmaster stood. On either side of him, he was joined by Professor Karkaroff of Durmstrang, and Madame Maxine of Beauxbatons.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” Dumbledore announced. He then pointed out a door that the selected champions were instructed to walk through after their names were called.

With a wave of his wand, the hall plunged into total darkness except for the glow of the carved pumpkins and the brilliant blue flames flickering from the Goblet of Fire. They patiently watched and waited for something to happen.

After a half of a minute that felt like an eternity, blood red sparks finally erupted from the goblet, spitting out a piece of slightly burnt parchment. Dumbledore caught the fluttering scrap in midair, and held it up to the firelight.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he declared, “will be Viktor Krum.”

Thunderous cheers and applause echoed around as Tenley looked down the table to see their elusive quidditch celebrity stand.

Cass reached across the table to high-five Hazel, then put his arm around their new Durmstrang friend.

“Sorry there, mate,” he called through the clamor.

Miko respectfully clapped along. No emotion showed behind his colorless eyes, although Tenley could’ve sworn his large ears had grown significantly redder.

Once Viktor Krum had exited through the proper door, everyone’s eager attention returned to the goblet at hand. This time when the flames turned red, Dumbledore read the name of the Beauxbatons champion.

Fleur Delacour, a slim blonde girl, rose from the Ravenclaw table accompanied by a similar uproar. However, wails of disappointment could also be heard from her schoolmates as she took her leave through the same chamber door.

Now with the most important and final name left to be called, Tenley felt a crisp bite of tension in the air. All Hogwarts students seemed to hold a collective breath as utter silence pulsed against their ears. For the third time, red sparks rained down, carrying a piece of parchment.

Dumbledore took a look around the hall, smiled, then proudly called out, “The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!”

The room reached a whole new decibel that deafened their ears. The Hufflepuff table especially exploded into a frenzy of delighted screams. They held out their hands to Cedric and patted his back as he too followed the other champions’ path.

At the sight of his grinning face, Tenley’s lips couldn’t help but lift into a smile too. She was happy for him. Truly. Still, there was a dull ache in her chest that she couldn’t seem to shake. A painful acceptance that she’d given up any chance to share this moment with him.

As the applause raged on, Tenley took a look around at her housemates. A less than half-hearted celebration came from their end of the table. Cass’ usual straight-backed broad shoulders had folded into a slouch. Hazel reached across the table to pat his hand while Camilla whispered encouragements in his ear.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore addressed them once again, attempting to tame the noise. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —”

He trailed off.

The Goblet of Fire had begun showering red sparks again.

With a curious expression, Dumbledore watched a flame shoot up, delivering with it another piece of parchment. Gently swiping it from the air, he stared at the scrap for a long time before he finally cleared his throat and read out a name that no one wanted to hear.

“Harry Potter.”

“What?” was the question on everyone’s lips as they all wildly looked around with the same dumbstruck expression of disbelief.

Maybe they hadn’t heard correctly.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore called again. “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

Every head turned to the Gryffindor table. There, they watched a messy-headed kid with round glasses nearly trip over himself as he walked to the same chamber door that the three named champions had gone through just minutes before.

A barrage of whispers filled the hall and grew stronger with each breath.

“No way,” Cass said darkly. “There’s no way.”

When Camilla’s head leaned toward the center of the table, they all followed suit to hear her hushed tone, “They can’t actually let him compete, can they? He’s fourteen for god’s sake.”

“We already have a champion,” Tenley muttered back. “Why does he think he can steal the spotlight?”

Odin laughed. “Potter always steals the spotlight. Should’ve seen this a mile away.”

“How though?” Hazel cut in. “How’d he do it?”

No one had an answer for her.

“Two Hogvarts champions?” Miko chimed in. “How’s that fair?”

Tenley shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Can’t they just throw him in detention?”

“Dumbledore’s pet?” Cass flashed a menacing smile. “Not a chance.”

“He can’t compete!” she exclaimed.

Tenley couldn’t believe they were actually considering it. Here was an underage wizard who somehow managed to trick the cup into naming two champions.

“Yuh heard the rules, Tenny,” Hazel mumbled. “‘Bindin’ contract’.”

“Screw the rules! It’s not right!”

This was Cedric’s moment, she thought. How dare this kid try to ruin that.

They weren’t the only ones vexed.

Similar conversations were being had throughout the room in varying shades of confusion and annoyance. One could feel the ire steaming from the Hufflepuff table as they, not so quietly, demanded an explanation. Disdain dripped from the Ravenclaw’s mouths as they debated the outcome with the Beauxbaton students, and then there were the tittering Gryffindors. They seemed to be rather enjoying themselves.

This subject fueled them all the way back to the dungeons, and her friends filled her in on the last three years.

Since Potter had arrived to the school, he had allegedly stolen a heavily-guarded stone, forced the whole school into lockdown, and not to mention, opened a secret chamber that caused multiple attacks on students. As she tried to make sense of their stories, one thing was clear, Harry Potter was an ever-present thorn in their side.

They’d gotten all the way back to the common room couches when Tenley finally remembered her after dinner plans and darted back out into the deserted hallway.

She found her way back up to the first floor, then heard voices echo from the entrance hall, so she hid beneath the marble staircase, and paused to listen.

“I didn’t put it in. I was telling the truth.”

She peered around the corner to see Potter pleading his case. The boy appeared even more pathetic in comparison to the real Hogwarts champion that towered over him.

Cedric replied with polite skepticism. “Ah… okay. Well, see you, then.”

She watched him walk to a nearby door as Potter’s footsteps pattered up the marble staircase. Then, despite her better judgement, his name escaped her lips.

“Cedric,” she whispered.

Hand on the door handle, he turned and caught sight of her.

With a hint of surprise, he breathed, “Tenley?”

To her own surprise, he smiled, and strode over to meet her underneath the shadowed stairs. Grinning ear to ear, he said, “Can you believe it?”

“I can,” she confirmed.

It’d been weeks since they’d been this close to each other, and Tenley felt the effects. She wondered if he could hear her heart beating out of her chest.

His face grew serious. “Feeling alright?”

Curious, she looked up at him.

“I heard you were in the hospital wing,” he explained.

“Oh right.” She waved away, then quickly said, “All better. Listen, I – I just wanted to say… “

She took a step forward, then gently reached up to fix the wrinkled collar of his white shirt.

“You’ll be great.”

Her fingers lingered near the crease of his neck, and a buzz of electricity hummed between them. He shook his head, then mumbled, “You’re not making this easy on me.”

Her hand shot back like he was a hot stove. “Sorry, I-”

“I’m not complaining.” His lips lifted into a slight smile. “I’ve thought about what you said and… I think it’ll work itself out.”

“Do you?” she teased. “I wouldn’t want to be a distraction.”

“How about an incentive?” he countered. “When I win, we’ll go on a proper date.”

Among the shadows, she could still see the gleam of his grey eyes. Confidence radiated from him, but she was less sure.

Biting her lip, she said, “Our friends hate each other.”

Cedric shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe we can change that.” He held out his hand, “Do we have a deal?”

Hesitantly, her hand met his.

For just a moment, Tenley borrowed his optimism. She let herself believe that they could actually make it work.

“Deal,” she softly said.

Just then, the chime of the clock tower signified nine o’clock.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, moving past him. It was getting late, and she still had somewhere to be. She stepped into the warm light of the entrance hall, then turned toward the left corridor.

He called out after her, “You think I’ve got a chance?”

Tenley looked back.

With a playful smirk, she replied, “I like your odds.”

* * *

When she arrived to the Muggle Studies classroom, she found Fitz and their dad in quiet conversation with each other.

“Am I interrupting something?” she said, gliding through the doorway.

They turned to look at her with mild disappointment. “Where’ve you been, Ten?”

“Oh, just got caught up with a few things,” she waved away. “Can you believe they’re letting this kid compete?”

Gerry shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Could be part of a deeper plot,” Fitz said in a hushed tone. “There are still people out there who want him dead.”

Tenley scanned each of their grim faces, then laughed. “Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

Fitz’ mouth grew thin as he bit his tongue back.

Her dad tried to lighten the mood.

“Well, it’s nothing for us to worry about tonight!” He said with a clap of his hands, “We’ve got a vampire to slay.”

Without need for any convincing, Tenley got to work transforming the classroom. Desks became armchairs and books became cushions as she borrowed a thing or two from Camilla’s playbook.

“I never get tired of it,” her dad said, mesmerized by each spell.

Once she’d finished draping curtains across the walls, Tenley looked around and gave a satisfied nod. Three comfy chairs had been placed around the television set, complete with a giant cauldron of popcorn in the center that Gerry had solicited from the kitchens.

They popped in the tape, and Fitz used a remote to fast-forward through the previews until he landed on the title credits. A swirling orchestral overture welcomed them into the black-and-white world of Dracula. From years of family viewings, they could recite almost every line, each with their own impersonations of the vampire. In their best accents, they all mimicked, “There are far worse things… awaiting man… than death.”

Yet despite their best attempts to carry on this well-worn tradition as normal, there was still an essential piece missing from the equation.

“Mom’s sorry she couldn’t join us,” Gerry said when the end credits began to roll. “Although I’m hoping we can see her soon.”

“For the tournament?”

He nodded.

“She’s been coordinating the three tasks,” he said, then sighed, “Sounds mighty dangerous for anyone… let alone teenagers.”

Tenley shifted in her chair as worry scurried across her skin. She distinctly remembered talk of the tournament’s death toll, which did little to ease her mind. Luckily, her dad moved on.

“How are your classes going?”

“You should’ve seen my switching spell in Transfiguration the other day,” Fitz proudly beamed, “I got ten house points.”

“How scholarly of you,” Tenley retorted, then said, “Unfortunately, they’re not showing movies in my other classes. What’s next on your agenda, dad?”

“I’ve been thinking about that…,” Gerry pondered. “The headmaster and I have talked about how to incorporate my expertise on mythology.”

Tenley lifted an eyebrow, “What does he think?”

“Oh, he’s supportive… I just get the feeling that he’s got a different motive.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” he dismissed. “Just seems to have a special interest.”

Tenley thought back to her conversation at breakfast. She grabbed a handful of popcorn from the cauldron, then asked, “Do you know anything about the Golden Fleece?”

Her dad nearly choked. “Why do you ask?”

“My friend thinks it’s real,” she shrugged. “Believes it makes you immortal.”

“That’s definitely a theory,” he nodded.

“You’ve told me that story before, dad,” Fitz added. “That’s the one where Jason falls in love with a witch, and she helps him steal the Fleece.”

“Yes, well,” he said, fiddling with his wedding ring. “It’s a common Greek myth.”

“But he betrays her in the end,” Tenley added. “Right? That’s what I heard.”

Fitz’ brow furrowed. “I don’t remember that part…”

Gerry picked at the arm of his chair.

“It’s not exactly a pleasant part of the story…” he said hesitantly. “Yes, Jason leaves Medea. Then in retaliation… she kills their two children.”

“What?!”

“What a monster…” Fitz breathed.

Tenley suddenly felt a prickle of anger.

“So, what’s the moral of the story?” she challenged. “Watch out for witches?”

“It’s a myth, T-Leaf. There is no moral.”

Defensiveness crept up her neck. “Sounds to me like an great way to rile muggles up against us.”

Her dad looked at her confused. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve been telling you,” Fitz muttered. “It’s her new friends.”

“And so what?” Tenley scowled. “It’s becoming clearer and clearer that I’ve been shielded from a lot of hard truths.”

Patiently, her dad asked, “Like what?”

“Like, why are we the ones in hiding, huh?” she cried. “We live in fear that muggles will wipe us out if they knew about magic. How is that right? How is that fair?”

Both sets of blue eyes stared at her.

“It’s a delicate situation, Tenley,” her dad spoke slowly. “Since when have you been living in fear?”

Without warning, tears welled up in her eyes.

“Of being found out?” she sputtered. “Since the day of the fire! You should’ve seen their faces… the way they looked at me…”

For a moment, she was back in her second-grade classroom. She saw the terror in their eyes, pointing fingers as they threw accusations. “Did you see it!?” she heard them scream, “It was her!”

Sure, Kingsley had erased memories, but not hers. For weeks after, she could still smell the smoke. Her classmates had no knowledge of what happened, but she knew. She carried it around with her.

“I learned magic just to suppress it,” she seethed. “And for what?”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Fitz grumbled.

Tenley glared back at him.

“No, no, Fitz,” Dad said, “Your sister brings up a real concern. It was our decision to raise you two away from the wizarding world, and we knew that would have its challenges.” He sighed, then locked eyes with her, “Here’s what I ask, T-leaf. Be careful where you put your blame. If it’s on me, that’s fine, but don’t let that hate spread. Do you understand?

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he smiled. “Though I know that hurt has to go somewhere…” He scratched the scruff of his chin, then said, “It’s late! I think we all could use some rest.”

Her and Fitz transfigured the room back to it’s original state, then silently walked the corridor together. When they reached the staircase that led to the Ravenclaw tower, Fitz started to ascend, then stopped and looked back at her.

“You really think that about muggles?” he asked.

She thought for a moment, then said, “We accept them into our world… why can’t they accept us?”

“Maybe we just haven’t given them the chance.”

Tenley shook her head. “That’s naive, Fitz.”

“I’d rather be naive than spouting pureblood rhetoric…” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“You’re not thinking, Ten!” His voice echoed through the empty halls, so much so that portraits began grumbling in their frames for them to keep it down. “You’re just repeating Slytherin bullshit.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Because you’re so above us,” she scoffed. “Don’t act like the sorting hat didn’t try to put you in our house. How much did you have to beg?”

His freckled cheeks reddened as he swallowed her words. Then he quickly turned, and began making his way up the stairs.

“Really?” she called. “That’s it?”

He ignored her and continued climbing.

She turned on her heel, and haughtily trudged back toward the dungeons. That is, until she rounded a corner, and ran straight into a wall of black robes.

“Miss Wright,” Professor Snape drawled. “Out past curfew, I see.”

“I was just making my way back,” she explained.

His mouth twisted into a smirk. “From the hospital wing?”

“No,” she breathed, “I… I-”

“Whatever’s stopped you from attending my class,” he dryly continued. “I suggest you figure it out. Written assignments can carry you for only so long. I expect to see you demonstrate the theory of transmutation by the end of the term.”

She nodded.

“Now run along,” he dismissed. “If I see you out at this hour again, you’ll have detention to deal with.”

Tenley thanked him with a smile, then headed downstairs to find her house’s hidden entrance. When the stone archway closed behind her, she’d never been so happy to see the inviting green glow of the common room at the end of the corridor.

* * *

Over the course of the next week, the topic of the four champions had yet to lose steam, and the smug satisfaction of the Gryffindors only fueled more bitterness among the school and it’s guests. Each house seemed to be going through their own stages of denial, then anger, then denial again.

The Hufflepuffs felt cheated, the Ravenclaws were outsmarted, and the Slytherins simply couldn’t stand the thought of Potter getting any more praise. They took every possible chance to knock him down a peg.

“There goes our school mascot,” Camilla mocked outside of class one afternoon. All eyes followed Potter as he strolled down the hallway, his loyal girlfriend by his side, pretending not to hear her.

“I still can’t believe it’s come down to us rooting for Diggory or Potter,” Cass said with a shake of his silky curls.

Tenley smirked, “There’s no contest, right?”

“I’ll suppor’ Diggory,” Hazel said, then mumbled, “Doesn’ mean I’m happy ‘bout it.”

The rest of them nodded.

“Lesser of two evils,” Odin agreed.

Although begrudging, Tenley was encouraged by their endorsement. It was a step in the right direction. She’d been wondering how to garner support for Cedric without drawing too much attention to herself and there was still one idea she’d been toying with.

Now was the time to put it in motion.

“You know how we could really get under Potter’s skin?” Tenley prompted.

Amused, they all looked to her.

“Imagine,” she painted the picture. “He’s walking around the school and… everyone’s wearing badges that say they support Cedric.”

There was a collective snicker.

“That’s brilliant,” Camilla affirmed. “I’m sure we could whip something up. Cass?”

With a flash of teeth, he said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

It ended up taking Cass only a week to find a supplier.

At breakfast one morning, four owls swooped down, each tied to a corner of a large cardboard box that, when delivered, took up the entire width of their table. The six of them stood up from their benches to have a look inside. Sure enough, it was filled with at least a hundred circular buttons.

“Now we just need a designer,” Camilla grinned. “Haze?”

“On it,” she replied. “I’ve been practicin’ the charm.”

As they discussed how to get the box back to the common room, Tenley was distracted by a tiny owl that kept flitting back and forth across the ceiling. In its claws was a letter nearly twice its size. It circled around the Ravenclaw table a few times, then losing ground, it changed direction, growing closer and closer.

Before Tenley had time to react, the bird slid headfirst into the plate in front of her, rattling the surrounding dishes.

As she recovered from the initial shock, Tenley waved away the curious eyes of her housemates and reached out to help brush scrambled egg from the owl’s little wing. Letting go of the letter, it heaved a couple deep breaths, then took off again.

Tenley looked down at the deep blue envelope that the owl had left behind. She first noticed a silver seal with two letter ‘M’s pressed into the wax. Then, when she turned it over, bold capital letters read that it was addressed to:

FITZGERALD WRIGHT JR.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

RAVENCLAW TABLE

Tenley looked up to scan the neighboring table. Her brother was nowhere in sight. In fact, they hadn’t been on speaking terms since the night of Halloween, so she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him.

The letter weighed heavy in her hands.

She thumbed the edges of the opening flap.

Fitz would show it to her anyways, she reasoned, so why not go ahead and open it? Besides, it wasn’t her fault that the owl had delivered it to the wrong Wright. After all, she could always repair the seal with magic…

She made up her mind, gently pried open the envelope, and pulled out its contents. Unfolding a piece of parchment, she read the note addressed to her brother:

Mr. Wright,

We thank you for your continuous support of our program. It’s Mystifiers, like you, who make this work possible.

As for your particular interest in the cold case of Dorothy Kemp, I’m afraid there’s not much more information we can share. Our own request to the MCI to review case files was denied, so we relied heavily on interviews, and for the privacy of our guests, we do not give out contact information.

However, we will leave you with this photo.

It’s one of many copies we received from friend of the show, Greta Griffin. Although we enjoy a good mystery, we do not delight in the tragedy of Miss Kemp. We believe it is of the upmost importance to keep her and other victim’s memories alive. From a fellow Ravenclaw, I wish you well in your studies, and urge you to stay out of the forest.

Sincerely,

Damian Powell

Mystifying Mysteries

Tenley frowned.

No matter what Fitz had asked the radio host, this sure felt like an anticlimactic response. She flipped to the moving picture included with the letter.

Saturated in sepia tones, it showed a teenage girl wearing old-fashioned robes. Her heart-shaped face was framed by a messy bun, and she sat cross-legged on an outdoor ledge, holding a large leather-bound book.

This was, no doubt, Dorothy Kemp.

She stared.

It wasn’t the girl’s sharp eyes or smirking expression that captured her attention. It was the book under Dorothy’s arm, and the large silver dagger that glinted from its cover.

“You’ve got to take a look at this,” Tenley whispered to Avery.

She laid the old photo down in front of her, and Avery’s auburn-head leaned forward to examine it. Her eyes widened.

“Is that what I think it is?” she squeaked, referring to the book underneath Dorothy’s arm. It was the spitting image of the leather-bound ledger that held the history and secrets of all Cloak and Dagger Society members

“Only one way to find out,” Tenley replied. “Where is it?”

“I left it in Abe’s basement for safe keeping,” she said, picking up the picture to inspect the backside. “Who is this anyway?”

“Dorothy Kemp,” Tenley explained. “Heard of her?”

Avery shook her head.

“She died at the school like a century ago. My brother’s obsessed with solving her murder, and… what if it had something to do with the club?”

Excitement bubbled up within her.

Now, Tenley was interested.

“We’ve got a trip coming up,” Avery offered. “We can check the book then.”

She gave a reluctant nod.

This meant she had to wait a full two weeks until their next Hogsmeade weekend. Fortunately, Tenley had plenty of other distractions to keep the anticipation at bay. Namely, their mission to organize the school against Harry Potter.

The buttons turned out more perfect than she imagined.

Once Hazel had worked her magic, each badge read “Support Cedric Diggory – The REAL Hogwarts Champion” in bright red letters. Then, at suggestion of some creative fourth years, a second message was added to flash “Potter Stinks” in green. They began passing them around the common room to the glee of their fellow Slytherins who pinned them to their chests without hesitation.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the school to start requesting their own. Hufflepuffs, who normally looked down their noses at them, started coming up to them in droves. There was finally something they could agree on.

When Tenley walked into Muggle Studies at the end of the week, she even found Summer Marks, Graham Appleby, and Tony Rickett all sporting one.

“It’s nice to see Slytherins on the right side of something for once,” Summer remarked as Tenley passed by.

Through gritted teeth, Tenley replied, “Don’t think of this as peace offering.”

Sure, she liked Cedric, but that didn’t mean she had to like his friends.

As for Fred and George Weasley, they notably did not partake in the buttons. However, as she settled into her desk, they had plenty to say about them.

“I would’ve expected something more clever,” Fred mused.

“Something with a better ring to it,” George agreed.

“Potter’s a Rotter-”

“Putrid Potter-”

“Harry the Horrid-”

Tenley turned around to smile at them, “Would you like a special order?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Fred gave a sly grin. “In exchange… we’ll give you some homemade sweets to try out.”

She laughed. “Something tells me I’d be better off eating chalk.”

“An inspired idea,” he said, spreading his arms out wide. “Be our guest.”

At the sound of the bell, her dad stood from his desk to address the room in his usual upbeat mood.

“I’m almost done grading your Hocus Pocus reflections, and I must say, you’ve given me a lot to think about,” he began. “Some found it be a harmless Halloween tale, while others were concerned by the portrayal of witches as child abductors.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Summer argued, “Dark magic exists. Why shouldn’t muggles tell a story about evil witches?”

“Not just any witches,” Tenley countered. “Salem witches. They make a mockery of a real-life tragedy and try to justify the killing!”

From the back of the room, George called out, “They don’t even know magic’s real.”

Her dad’s hands clapped together.

“You make a good point, George,” he grinned. “Does the Statute of Secrecy make this a non-issue? After all, there was a time before that law was enacted. There was even a time when wizards ruled.”

“We’ll dissect this more as we dive into our next unit: myths and legends,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “This is a personal favorite of mine. It was the subject of my doctoral research, and even led me to excavating ancient ruins in Greece.”

Tenley knew this time period was special to him for an entirely different reason.

It’s when he met her mom.

As he told it, Reyna was on holiday in Greece when she noticed this ‘bumbling American’. She struck up a conversation with him, and they grew close over the course of a week. Then, one day, Gerry happened to step foot into oncoming traffic, and Reyna rescued him with her wand. Instead of waiting for officials to erase his memory, she told him about the wizarding world, and they ran off together.

Any further details were hard to come by.

Like most events from her past, Mom would quickly change the subject whenever it was brought up. However, that never stopped Dad from talking about the first moment he saw her. “I couldn’t believe this beautiful woman was talking to me,” he’d say.

Pacing back and forth in front of the class, Gerry continued his lecture, “It’s important to note that in Greek mythology, magic characters are often referred to as gods and goddesses, which demonstrates the power that witches and wizards had in that time period. For your next assignment, we will start to separate fact from fiction, and talk about the utility of these stories in the non-magic world. Did a wizard invent fire? Did a wizard control the oceans? Did Hercules actually capture a three-headed dog?”

He left them with the task of reading up on the witch, Athena.

Tenley wasn’t too worried about their new assignment. She had the advantage of having heard many of these myths from her dad growing up. Although, she was beginning to see them through a different lens.

“Like this,” she pointed to her book, while her friends studied at their usual table. “A mortal challenged the goddess, Athena, to a contest. As punishment, Athena turns the mortal into a spider…. Did that actually happen? Or is it just anti-magic propaganda?”

Odin smiled, “Now you’re getting it. Ancient Greek witches and wizards especially got a bad rap. They’re all painted as selfish, evil tyrants.”

Just then, a silver cat softly landed in Tenley’s lap.

“Matilda?” she said surprised.

“Told you she’d turn up,” he smirked.

Stroking the cat’s sleek fur, Matilda closed her big green eyes as Tenley whispered, “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

The cat purred in response, then reached up to bat her silver-stringed braid of hair.

Cass yawned and stretched out his arms, “How many buttons have we got left?”

“Less than half,” Hazel confirmed. “Still need tuh ge’ to the Ravenclaws.”

It was true.

They’d struggled to convert the Ravenclaws to their cause.

In theory, most of them supported Cedric, but they found the buttons to be unnecessarily juvenile. That is, until the Daily Prophet article dropped the next day.

“Listen to this,” Odin said before quoting the local newspaper. “‘Being chosen as champion is really a dream come true,’ Potter revealed. Then, with a catch in his throat, he said, ‘I want my classmates to know that I’ll make them proud.’”

The Saturday morning post had just been delivered, and the Prophet was being devoured across the hall. It’s latest edition was all about the Triwizard Tournament, and it prominently featured the Gryffindor wonder boy on the front cover.

“And get this-” he added. “They don’t even mention Cedric once!”

Tenley fumed, “Can this kid ever get enough?”

“Bloody unbelievable,” Cass grumbled, crossing his large arms. “Acting like he’s god’s gift to the school.”

She scanned the Hufflepuff table and found Cedric surrounded by his standard group of sycophants. Most of them held up the newspaper and seemingly took turns reading snippets from the article. She watched as he’d grin and casually shrug off each comment. Then, for a moment, his eyes met hers from across the room.

Stolen glances had become their only form of communication.

They both knew the consequences of being seen together. That it would set off a barrage of questions that they weren’t prepared to answer, and neither wanted that kind of scrutiny, especially while all eyes of the school were currently on him.

Cedric gave her a subtle nod before turning back to his friends.

It didn’t take long for the contents of the Rita Skeeter article to disperse throughout the halls, and once it did, Ravenclaws were suddenly no longer above wearing a button. Yet despite most of the school being on the same page that Potter did not represent them, there were still a handful that hadn’t been convinced.

That weekend, they all finally made their way to the basement of their favorite Hogsmeade bar for the second Cloak and Dagger meeting of the school year. Passing under the sign with the severed pig’s head and into the cramped tavern, a familiar patron with unkempt ash-white hair, drunkenly raised a pint to welcome them in.

“What’s with all the kids, Abe?” the old man slurred at the bartender.

As they lowered themselves down into the musty cellar, they overheard a group of Ravenclaw girls in a heated exchange about the article.

“Don’t believe a word of it,” Cho Chang stated. “It didn’t even sound like him.”

“Like you know him so well.”

“I’d say she knows him well enough,” her friend teased.

“Yeah,” another Ravenclaw chimed in. “You should see the way he looks at her…”

“Isn’t he dating that one girl?”

“That’s the thing! Him and Hermione are just friends,” the girl assured, then added. “No, he’s only got eyes for Cho.”

“Oh, stop it,” Cho said, but failed to contain her smile.

Tenley rather enjoyed knowing this piece of gossip. So the wonder boy had a little crush, huh?

A loud whisper interrupted her thoughts, “Tenley!”

She looked up to see Avery crouched down, inspecting a metal air vent. She used her wand to remove the cover, then reached in and pulled out the black leather ledger from its hiding place. There was the silver dagger on the front cover.

Avery began flipping through the book. “When did you say she was a student?”

“Uh…” Tenley tried to remember the year. “Late eighteen hundreds?”

Avery gave her a sour look, then muttered. “I’ll keep looking.”

Once the rest of the members had trickled in, Camilla stood on a wooden crate to address them.

“Welcome!” she declared. “We’re delighted to be back to continue this long-standing tradition. By request, I’ve been asked to refresh us all on the rules.”

Tenley’s weight shifted as a few heads turned her way.

“Each duel begins with a bow to your opponent,” she explained. “Curses may only be used if one confidently knows the counter-curse. No outside objects or animals may enter the ring. Duels will continue until a participant is immobile for seven seconds, or they concede. Avoid any spells that could cause open wounds, irreparable harm, or death. ” She turned toward Hazel, and said, “Did I cover it all?”

“No contac’?”

“Right! Wands are your only weapon. No touching your opponent.”

Camilla took a look around the room, and smiled at them all. “Right then, let’s get on with it, shall we?”

They all circled around to make a large clearing. Two Ravenclaws stepped forward to the center as Tenley retreated back to the corner where Avery was still skimming through the ledger.

“I’m not seeing her name anywhere…”

“What about Cornelia Inkwell?”

Avery gave her a curious glance. “Yeah, she’s in here quite a bit. Actually…” She flipped through a few pages, then her finger trailed down a list of names. “I found her.”

She turned the book toward Tenley, and said, “June 13th, 1896”

Tenley squinted her eyes to read the two names. It was clear that Dorothy had beat Cornelia in a duel, but she wasn’t sure what the numbers meant. As if reading her mind, Avery spoke up.

“This was when they put money down on duels,” she whispered. “Look how many galleons were bet on this match… Cornelia was highly favored.”

“I wonder who won that gold,” Tenley muttered.

“Or who lost it.”

A jet of blue light flew over the top of their heads, hit the brick wall, and sprinkled debris on top of their heads. The two Ravenclaws were now circling each other in the middle of the ring.

Avery turned back to her. “You think Camy knows something about this girl?”

Tenley shrugged.

“You sure there’s no other mention of Dorothy in there?”

“Doesn't look like it,” she replied. “It’s likely she was the record-keeper.”

As Tenley watched the dance of the dueling students in front of her, she wondered why the dead girl had only participated once.

It did not look good for the Slytherin.

Now that they had a motive, she began calculating how to mention it to Camilla.

Applause signaled the end of the first duel, so Tenley got up from the ground, dusted off her jeans, and started making her way over to her friend.

Just then, Cho stepped in front of her. Softly, she said, “Ready for another round?”

“Oh,” Tenley paused. “Not today. I’ve got some-”

She saw Cho’s brown eyes flit to the Support Cedric Diggory! badge pinned to her chest, so Tenley switched gears. “You sure I can’t interest you in one?”

The pretty Ravenclaw girl politely shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve it. Harry.”

An idea surfaced.

“How ‘bout we make our next duel interesting?” she smirked. “I win, you wear the badge. And if you win, I take it off.”

A sly gleam appeared in her eye. “If I win, you all have to remove it.”

Tenley laughed. “Like that’s gonna happen!”

“Afraid you’re going to lose?”

They studied each other’s faces. There was a subtle deviousness to Cho Chang.

“If you win, my friends will take theirs off too,” Tenley affirmed.

Reaching out her hand, Cho took it, and then with a nod, she followed her to the center of the room.

A hand grabbed Tenley’s shoulder and she looked up to see Hazel.

“Yuh sure abou’ this?”

Tenley smiled at her. “No chairs this time. I swear!”

Wand at the ready, she moved into position. In stark contrast to Tenley’s baggy sweatshirt and pulled-back braids, Cho wore an iron-pressed skirt and a ribbon in her sleek black hair.

Tenley felt the tension of the anxious onlookers as they bowed to each other. Then, the crowd counted them down from three.

At go-time, their voices melded into a mess of syllables as they both shouted their first attack. A loud bang erupted as the two spells collided in mid-air, sending a rain of yellow sparks in every direction. This did not deter either of them.

“Flippendo!” Tenley yelled while dodging the pink stream of an oncoming jelly-legs jinx. Her spell caught Cho’s shoulder and sent her spiraling backward until her hands caught her fall. Without missing a beat, Tenley fired a stunning spell, but it bounced off of a force-field that had been conjured a second before.

As Cho jumped back on her feet, Tenley tried again.

“Stupe-”

“Silencio!”

Suddenly, her words lost all sound. Tenley shouted, but nothing came out. She jumped out of the way of an oncoming disarming charm, and wracked her brain for an easy nonverbal curse.

With a silent flick of her wand, she knocked Cho to one knee.

Catching herself, Cho looked up and gave Tenley a determined smile. From the ground, she stuck out her wand, and calmly called, “Stupefy.”

There was a jet of red light, and then nothing.

The next thing Tenley remembered was lying flat on the cold stone floor. As she opened her eyes, five familiar faces hovered above her, silhouetted by the orange basement light. They all wore similar looks of concern.

With the help of Cass and Odin, she was slowly lifted into a sitting position. Wincing, she grabbed the back of her skull as a splitting headache emerged.

“Careful, there,” Hazel murmured. “Yuh had a nasty fall.”

Tenley looked over to see Cho. Her housemates were patting her on the back, and enthusiastically recounting each play-by-play. Seeing that Tenley was awake, she broke free of her circle and walked over to their group.

They helped her to her feet, so that she could face Cho eye-to-eye.

“Well played,” Tenley conceded.

She couldn’t tell if it was her head or her ego that hurt worse, but there was no denying it. Tenley unpinned the button from her chest and placed it in Cho’s hand.

The Ravenclaw smiled and said, “I think we can call it even now.”

Tenley gingerly shook her head, then whispered.

“Not a chance.”

* * *

At dinner that night, there were only six students at the Slytherin table not wearing the Support Cedric Diggory! buttons, and it just so happened to be the creators of them. Her friends weren’t thrilled to learn about the bet she’d made, and it had taken quite a bit of convincing for them to remove their own.

“Hell, I didn’t agree to these terms!” Cass declared.

Tenley patted his shoulder. “I promise to find other ways to piss off Potter. Besides, we still got most of the school on board.”

While he grumbled quietly to himself, Tenley turned to Camilla.

“Camy,” she started. “Ave and I were looking through past pages of the ledger today and stumbled on an old name. Have you ever heard of a Cornelia Inkwell?”

“Sure,” she said between sips of pumpkin juice. “Must be Great Aunt Nellie. Why?”

“I think she might’ve been friends with old family of mine,” Tenley lied. “I’d love to ask her about the Shacklebolts.”

Camilla shook her head, “She’s been dead for years. Went a little crazy in her old age if you ask me.”

“That’s too bad,” Tenley feigned sympathy, then added. “Did she leave behind any mementos from her school years? Maybe some photos or… or a diary?”

At first, Tenley thought she had gone too far as Camilla turned a skeptical eye towards her, but then her green eyes lit up.

“You know, she did ramble on about this box.”

“A box?”

“Yeah,” Camilla squinted as she searched her memory. “Her and some friends put together a time capsule of sorts, and buried it before they left school.”

Avery and Tenley exchanged a look.

“And you never found it?”

She shrugged, “Never went looking for it. You really think it would have information on your family?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Tenley offered, trying not to sound too eager. “Where is it?”

Camilla gave a coy smile that Tenley had come to know as the signal that her friend was prepared to cook up a scheme.

“The Quidditch pitch.”

Although Tenley was pleasantly surprised that Camilla knew the location of this time capsule, it happened to be buried in a rather inconvenient place.

Not only was the quidditch pitch shut down this particular school year, it was especially off-limits due to the Triwizard Tournament. No one knew exactly what the champions were to face that coming Tuesday, but it was clear that it had something to do with that field. Throughout the past week, various workers and ministry officials could be seen coming and going from the stadium at all times of day.

How they were to manage sneaking in and digging up a hundred-year-old box remained to be seen, but it gave them something other than homework to focus on.

“Tomorrow night,” Camilla said as they huddled around the common room couches. “It’ll be me, Tenley, and Odin—”

Hazel snorted.

“None of yuh have even set foot on the field before,” she whispered, then nodded toward Cass, “Take him at leas’.”

“She’s right,” Cass murmured. “I can get us into the locker room.”

Odin put up his hands, “Fine by me.”

“We’re all part of this,” Camilla affirmed. “And no, I’ve thought this through.”

She paused to lock eyes with each of them individually as she divvied up the roles. “Cass and Haze will pretend to have flying practice near the broom shed. You’ll have a birds-eye view to warn us if anyone comes close to the stadium. Ave will keep watch by the castle entrance.”

“As for the three of us,” she motioned toward Tenley and Odin. “We’re on box duty. Ten will patrol the pitch while Odin and I figure out how to get to the capsule. It should be buried in the center, but there’s no telling what they’ve been doing to the field.”

Avery piped up, “And if we do encounter anyone?”

“I have full confidence in each of your abilities to create a diversion,” Camilla said with a sly smile.

Arms crossed, Tenley questioned, “Why not wait ‘til after the first task?”

“I talked to a worker today,” she explained. “Convinced him to leave it open for us. If this is happening, we’ve got to act fast.”

“Is it really worth it?” Odin offered. “We don’t even know what’s in this thing.”

“If it gets Tenley closer to her family history, then it’s worth it,” she replied. “Besides… don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

With a shake of his spikey head, Odin muttered, “Aye, aye, captain.”

Cass flashed a smile at Tenley. “Ignore him. He’s just not used to risking his skin unless there’s something in it for him!”

Tenley looked around at her friends.

She’d never had anyone rally around her like this.

Sure, there was a slight twinge of guilt for lying about what she hoped to find in the time capsule, but no matter how she looked at it, they were doing her a favor all the same. Did the reason really matter?

“I appreciate the help,” she said. “Really. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry, love.” Odin smirked, putting an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll be sure to hold you to it.”

At breakfast the next morning, they exchanged ideas for spells and excuses to use if they were stopped by anyone. The plan was to act while everyone was at dinner.

As they walked out of the Great Hall, Tenley caught sight of her little brother.

For the last few weeks, he’d given her the cold shoulder, and after a few failed attempts, she began giving him his space.

Tenley didn’t blame him.

It wasn’t his fault that he’d fallen for the muggle-loving mainstream. He just didn’t have all the facts. She was sure that he’d eventually see the danger they were under. Putting politics aside, she missed him, and Tenley knew just the thing to get him talking again.

“Fitz!” she called.

This time, he reluctantly paused to wait for her.

“Here,” she said, holding out the Mystifying Mysteries envelope addressed to him. Tenley had tucked the letter and photograph securely back in place before resealing it.

With one curious look, he grabbed the envelope, then kept on walking.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” she asked, matching his stride.

He ignored her.

“What if I told you that I’ll help with the Dorothy Kemp case?"

Fitz stopped, then pulled the headphones from his ears. “Really?”

She smiled.

He gave her a skeptical glance, “What changed your mind?”

Tenley knew that she couldn’t tell him about the dueling club, so she chose her words carefully.

“I talked to Camy,” she whispered. “Her great aunt buried some kind of box before she left school. We’re going to find out what’s in it.”

Her brother’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“No promises,” Tenley said. “But if Cornelia had something to do with it, maybe she kept a souvenir or something.”

Practically vibrating with excitement, Fitz exclaimed, “Don’t forget her friends! Walter Nightengale and Phineas Black were suspects too. Do you think they also buried stuff?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” she shrugged. Then, with forced enthusiasm, she said, “Open your letter! Let’s see if your radio show has anything more for us.”

Knowing full well what his reaction would be, Tenley patiently waited as he ripped open the envelope and read the message within. As his eyes darted back and forth across the parchment, his face fell.

“Nothin’,” he grumbled, slumping onto a wooden bench with the letter limp at his side. As she sat beside him, he halfheartedly handed it over.

Tenley pretended to inspect the note as if it were her first time seeing it.

“The MCI has all the case files,” Fitz muttered. “I thought about reaching out to them… but if Damien Powell was denied, there’s no chance they’ll give me anything.”

She’d forgotten about that part of the letter.

Although the ministry’s Magical Crimes Investigation unit had botched this case in the first place, they surely had saved crucial pieces of evidence.

“Let’s not worry about that now,” she suggested. “What else have you been able to find?”

Fitz grinned, then grabbed his school bag. He spoke rapidly as if finally relieved to be able to tell someone, “So I was talking to the Grey Lady, and she tipped me off that they donated all of Dorothy’s textbooks to the school, so I started going through the bookshelves in our common room—”

“And?”

“I found them,” he said. “Well… I found three with ‘Dottie Kemp’ written on the inside cover, but that’s not the best part! Check out what was tucked in her Arithmancy textbook.”

From his bag, Fitz withdrew a scrap piece of parchment.

In messy black ink, it read:

He knows. Meet tomorrow?

Tenley looked up at her brother. “Any idea who wrote it?”

He shook his head, then added, “But it looks like a warning, right?”

She stared at the note, then handed it back to him. It didn’t quite fit with her scorned dueler theory. Who was ‘he’? And what did he know?

“Maybe,” Tenley replied as she stood from the bench. “Let’s see what else I can find.”

Glad that they were back on speaking terms, Tenley made her way back to the dungeons to anxiously count down the hours until they could put their plan in motion.

To pass the time, she spent the afternoon perusing The Archive.

Her investigation into her family had been put on pause due to her busy school schedule, but today she welcomed the distraction of flipping through old documents. Once she had figured out the filing system, there were plenty of records of Shacklebolts throughout the years. In a stack in front of her, she kept a growing pile of clippings. There was a secretary to the minister of magic, a renowned lion tamer, and even a winner of a prestigious wizarding world peace award.

Accompanying the materials, she often found a symbol – a family crest of sorts. It had a royal crown in the center, encircled by a black serpent that was eating its own tail.

Once it was a quarter to six, the hidden door slid up to reveal Hazel. In one hand, she carried her prized Starsweeper broomstick.

“Get a move on! It’s go time,” she said before rushing off.

Tenley gathered her things, then found Camilla and Odin waiting for her in the common room. They each wore black cloaks and green-striped scarves wrapped snugly around their necks. The others had already made their way outside to take position. The three of them headed up to the entrance hall, and instead of following the crowd of students into the Great Hall for Sunday dinner, they took a sharp left.

Walking out onto the front steps, the brisk November air nipped at their cheeks.

They passed Avery bundled up on a stone ledge under torchlight, reading her latest coverless book. She gave them a subtle nod.

A crescent moon glowed bright amidst a dark blue sky, and in the distance, they saw the shadowed outline of the tall rectangular towers surrounding the quidditch pitch. There wasn’t another soul seen across the grounds except for two figures mounting brooms by a small shed.

As if on a casual nighttime stroll, the three of them started down the path toward the stadium. From the sky, they saw Cass and Hazel zooming around, each casting a subtle white light from the tip of their wands, signaling that the coast was clear.

The bones of the structure became clearer as they continued forward. Tenley counted twelve towers in total, each adorned with a Hogwarts house emblem and all connected by a wooden fence that wrapped around the field.

As they came closer, all doorways had thick metal chains barred across.

“Where’s this secret entrance?” Tenley murmured in Camilla’s ear.

Their boots crunched over blades of frost-tipped grass as she led them around the side of the stadium until the castle was blocked from view.

Camilla placed both hands on the tall wooden fence and began patting around.

Tenley and Odin exchanged curious looks.

“It should be around here somewhere,” she muttered, now pushing on the wood as if she expected the wall to fall at her feet. “I even paid the guy—”

Suddenly, she lost her balance as her left hand fell through the fence like it was made of water. The shock on her face was quickly replaced by a pleased smirk.

Looking back over her shoulder, she said, “Follow me,” before the rest of her body disappeared. Hesitant, Tenley reached forward, watched as her hand seemed to melt into the wood, then the rest of her body swam through the barrier.

As Odin followed suit, the three of them emerged onto the outer middle of a large oval field lit only by the moon. On either side, there stood three tall goalposts with rings on the end for quidditch players to throw a ball through. It appeared that the surrounding towers held bleachers where onlookers could cheer on their house team from up above. For a moment, Tenley imagined that it would’ve been fun, sitting with her friends to cheer on Cass with the rest of the Slytherins.

“Let’s not step on the lines,” Camilla warned.

As Tenley followed them across the frosted grass, she noticed thick swaths of white paint under their feet. It looked nothing like any ball field she’d seen in America. There were lines in every direction: straight and curved. They stopped abruptly in certain areas and spun around to form nonsensical shapes like a Picasso painting.

“Does it normally look like that?”

“No,” Odin replied. “Must be for the tournament.”

Just then, they heard a whistle of wind and a folded-paper butterfly flew straight into Camilla, rapidly flapping its wings in her face. She managed to bat it down, then quickly unfolded and scanned the note.

“We better hurry,” she said. “Ave says there’s someone coming.”

“Must’ve tripped an alarm,” Odin muttered as he followed Camilla’s lead.

Tenley knew her role.

Carefully avoiding the white paint, she ran over to the nearest tower facing the castle. The exterior looked like a yellow and black chess board with the emblem of a badger checkered throughout. She stepped through a narrow doorway into a dark enclosed box. It was pitch black except for streaks of moonlight coming in through little windows dotted throughout the walls that stretched high above her. A wooden staircase made the shape of increasingly smaller squares as it wound up to the top of the tower.

Tenley heard the explosion of a firework.

The rickety stairs groaned under her feet as she raced up the first few steps to reach a window that looked out over the grounds. Not far from the stadium, she saw Hazel talking to a shadowed figure. Cass was hidden from view, but off to the side, there was a crackling spurt of red sparks cascading through the air. Both a diversion and signal.

They wouldn’t be able to stall for much longer.

Unfazed, the person stepped past Hazel back onto the moonlit path. It looked to be a woman wearing a hooded cloak.

It was Tenley’s turn.

She knelt to the ground, pointed her wand out the window, then shot a jet of fire straight out like a flamethrower. Black smoke billowed upward as a wave of heat cut through the cold air and washed over her.

To steer them away from the field, she had to steer them toward herself.

Whatever happened, her friends needed to get the time capsule back safely without it being confiscated. If that meant Tenley was the sacrificial lamb, so be it. As she crouched on the stair landing, breathing heavy, she wondered if it’d been enough to attract their attention.

That is until she heard the clatter of heavy chains.

Someone was unlocking the tower door.

As she heard the wooden door creak open, Tenley purposely stomped up to the next stair landing and peeked out that window. This one looked out over the quidditch pitch. From up high, the painted white lines made up an intricate maze with plenty of dead-ends and snaking paths. They all formed a large circle in the middle of the oval field that looked like the pupil of an eye. Right in the middle is where she saw Odin and Camilla throwing dirt over their shoulders with their wands.

Below her, she heard the hesitant groan of the first stair step.

A woman’s voice wavered, “Who’s up there?”

Crouched in the corner of the landing, Tenley tried to calculate her next move.

There was nowhere to hide. She’d have to talk her way out of this one.

Peering through the slats and handrails of the staircase, she caught sight of a bright white beam of light casting shadows on the walls and shaking upward with each step. The back of the woman’s hooded robes came into view as she approached the first landing.

Tenley held her breath as the woman turned the corner, then gasped.

“Mom?”

The woman’s head jerked up, revealing her mom’s high cheekbones, silver curls, and the thick square glasses that covered her eyes. She pointed her beam of light straight at her daughter.

“Tenley?” she whispered incredulously, then took the steps two at a time to join her on the landing. As Tenley stood, her mom hurriedly scooped her into her arms, then whispered, “What are you doing here?”

Tenley cleared her throat.

“I come up here to think sometimes,” she lied, looking down at her feet. “It’s nice to get away from the castle every once in a while.”

Reyna gave her a stern look.

“You know full well students aren’t allowed in here,” she stated. “And what’s with the pyrotechnics?”

“Just an accident,” she waved away. Before Reyna could question her further, Tenley changed the subject. “So, you’ve been tasked with watching this place, huh?”

“I coordinate the tournament,” her mom replied coolly. “It’s my job to make sure everything runs smoothly – like not having my daughter breaking and entering.”

Behind the glasses, Tenley could see that she was being surveyed. Amidst the bright white wand light, her mom’s hand reached up and touched her silver-stringed braid.

“What happened to your hair?”

Tenley rolled her eyes. “All I did was change it to fit my house. Slytherin if you hadn’t heard.”

Through pursed lips, her mom mustered up a “congratulations.”

Tenley struggled to read her reaction. It wasn’t disappointment or fear.

Was it envy?

“Which I’ve come to find out,” Tenley added, “that I share with your brother. Why didn’t you tell me Kingsley went to school here?”

“It never came up—”

“Of course it didn’t! You never tell me anything!”

“I don’t want to hear it, Tenley,” Reyna warned. “Everything I do is to protect this family, and here you are, doing everything in your power to find trouble. How can you be so reckless?”

“Protect us? That’s what you’re calling it?” she spat. “Sending us away so that you can go off and plan some tournament?”

“This is far bigger than you or me! You have no idea the gravity—”

“Explain it to me then!” Tenley exclaimed. “I’m all ears!”

Despite her thick frames, she saw a fire ignite within her mom’s eyes.

“Really?” Reyna seethed. “You act like a child, and expect an explanation?”

“I’m an adult in the eyes of wizard law!”

“Then act like it!” she snapped. “No more skulking around places you don’t belong! There are rules in place for a reason. What if we kept the dragons here, huh? You could’ve—”

Her mouth snapped shut.

Tenley froze, losing every trace of her counter-argument.

“Dragons?”

“Forget it,” her mom muttered. “They’ll be gone after the first task.”

Mind reeling, Tenley looked over her shoulder toward the window. She spotted her two friends making their way back across the field. It appeared like Odin was carrying something, but it was too dark to see. Careful not to show any reaction, she turned her attention back to her mom.

“What exactly do they have to do? Slay them?”

Reyna shook her head.

“Of course not,” she replied. “But I’ve already said too much. Let’s get you back.”

After being escorted to the castle by her mother and swearing not to set foot near the quidditch field any time soon, Tenley couldn’t get back to the common room fast enough. When she stepped through the tunnel into the green-tinged mausoleum, she quickly spotted her friends huddled around their usual corner table.

She hurried down the granite steps, and strolled over to them as she unbuttoned her cloak. “How’d we do?”

The five of them jolted up, each sporting their own look of surprise.

“We thought yuh were a goner,” Hazel said as she pulled Tenley into a hug.

Cass gave her a heavy pat on the back, “Yeah. What happened out there?”

Tenley shook her head.

She wasn’t interested in going over the details of the night. What mattered was sitting in the middle of the table. It looked to be a dirt-caked box made of polished walnut. On the side, there was a printed label for an old camera company.

“Have you opened it yet?” she asked.

Camilla grinned, “We were just debating how long to wait for you.”

“Well, I’m here now! Let’s see it.”

Using a bit of force, Camilla pried open the top lid of the box and it finally detached, clattering onto the table. They all leaned forward to look inside. The contents looked rather well-preserved meaning it had likely been charmed to withstand decay. She first picked up a sepia-toned photograph of three students in poised position next to each other, each holding a broomstick. They appeared to be standing on the exact field where the box was found.

“It’s Aunt Nellie, alright,” she confirmed then passed the photo to Tenley.

On closer inspection, there was a young woman wearing a long dress with billowing sleeves, gloves, and a floral witch's hat. On either side of her were two young men. One had light hair combed to the side and a sad attempt at a mustache above his lip. He wore a white dress shirt with suspenders holding up his trousers. In contrast, the other boy wore a full three-piece suit. He had messy dark hair and heavy-lidded eyes underneath thick blocks of eyebrows.

“Excellent style choice,” Odin muttered sarcastically over her shoulder.

“You’re one to talk,” Tenley countered, eyeing his spikey hair.

Turning over the picture, she found all three of their names inscribed on the back in order: W. Nightengale, C. Inkwell, P. Black Jr.

Camilla had already moved on to the next item. She held up a vintage carton of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. There was also an old galleon dated 1876, a peacock feather quill and a pair of ballet slippers. When she pulled out a book, Tenley eagerly reached for it, but only found it to be an old romance novel.

“Sorry, Ten,” Camilla said. “I’m not seeing anything pointing to your family.”

Finally, at the very bottom, there was a folded thin white cloth that had leaf-like lace spun along the edges.

“A handkerchief?” Tenley observed as they passed her the delicate cloth.

“Careful,” Camilla warned. “Looks like some of the embroidery is flaking off.”

Confused by what she meant, Tenley held it up closer to inspect the little brown flowers stitched along the corners. The thread appeared brittle and crumbling. Parts of the pattern had dissolved entirely, leaving behind tiny holes in the cloth.

“This must be vitanima,” she mumbled. “Dead vitanima.”

Odin pointed to a section of the folded square that was particularly spotty with bits of brown thread woven throughout. “What’s that?”

“Numbers,” she replied, squinting to get a good look. “That’s a one and a zero…”

Then, it dawned on her.

Stitched on this old handkerchief was the exact symbol that was carved onto the aspen tree where Dorothy Kemp’s body was found.

Words tumbled out of Tenley’s mouth. “Who buried this? Cornelia?”

“Not quite,” Cass said. “Look at the picture.”

Sure enough, when she looked back at the aged photograph, a lace handkerchief could be seen poking out of the suit pocket of dark-eyed Phineas Black Junior.

Exhaustion clung to Tenley’s skin like soaked clothes, yet still, she laid awake.

The previous evening had left her perplexed by two main queries.

How was Phineas Black involved in the murder of Dorothy Kemp?

And more importantly, how was Cedric going to survive a fire-breathing dragon?

The severity of the first task had only begun to sink in once she was alone in her cove. She continued to tell herself to remain calm and levelheaded, but it did little to prevent her mind from concocting images of Cedric’s body in various states of bloody, broken, and burned. Even now as she stared up at the dark ceiling, she was fighting away the latest heart-palpitating scenario of a dragon swallowing him whole.

Tenley sat up, and curled her arms around her knees. She needed a reliable plan to warn him, but it was proving difficult to think.

She thought about sending him a note, but that could attract too much attention.

No, there had to be a better way.

First, she needed to get him alone, and that would be no easy feat.

Since Cedric had been named champion, there seemed to be an entourage around him at all times, including a flock of fawning girls. They were a good reminder that it was in her best interest to stop fixating on him. She knew that he could change his mind about her at any point. However, at this very moment, Tenley was more concerned with keeping him alive.

Knowing that sleep was no longer in the cards, Tenley decided to cut her losses and get out of bed. Still dressed in a large t-shirt and sweats, she made her way up the spiral stone steps to the empty common room, then tip-toed over to the hidden Archive door. When the bookcase slid open, she was bombarded by the room’s bright white light. As her eyes adjusted, she was surprised to find that she wasn’t alone. A boy from her year, Adrian Pucey, sat hunched over a book with his head resting in his hand.

“Adrian.”

He jolted upward, then groggily rubbed his red eyes.

“Pulling an all-nighter, huh?”

“Ancient Runes exam,” he explained as she walked over to the wall of books.

Among all the stories written by Slytherins throughout the centuries, she figured there had to be some valuable piece of information. Scouring the spines for nearly a half hour, she came up with a stack of promising titles, then settled across the table from Adrian.

Without lifting his head, he asked, “What’s your excuse?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said simply, then opened My Date with A Dragon Trainer.

She was in the middle of a paragraph describing the secret to scale trimming when Adrian slammed his textbook shut. Tenley stared up at him.

“It’s no use,” he grumbled. “It’s all gibberish.”

“At least it’s an elective,” she offered.

“Not for me,” he replied. “Mum won’t let me back on the quidditch team next year unless I pass.”

“A bit harsh, isn’t it?”

“Our family’s been under a microscope since she got promoted,” he muttered. “Says she can’t play favorites. I’ll need top marks to make it into the MCI.”

Her ears perked up.

“You want to work for the MCI?”

He nodded, then said, “Practically everyone in my family is an agent.”

Tenley quietly returned to her book as he began gathering his things. Her eyes moved across the page, but her mind was elsewhere.

She’d forgotten that his mom was head of the Magical Crime Investigation unit. That was the exact kind of access they needed. She thought back to Camilla’s motto: it’s all about who you know. After a few seconds of calculating her next move, Tenley finally decided on a direction just as Adrian stood up from the table.

“Ever heard of Dorothy Kemp?” she asked nonchalantly.

His eyebrows raised.

“The cold case? Of course.”

“What if you were to solve it?” she offered slyly. “Let them try to deny your application after that.”

Hovering above her, he crossed his arms and gave her a skeptical once-over. “And how do you propose I do that?”

“I’ve got a lead,” she said. “I just need the case files.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

“I’m telling you, Adrian. You get me the MCI files, and I’ll let you take credit for any findings.”

“What’s in it for you?”

She hesitated.

In truth, she didn’t know what drew her to this case. It wasn’t Fitz, and his “honorable” search for justice. It wasn’t just the dueling club, and the involvement of her house. There was something about Dorothy. She felt connected to her somehow.

“I get to have you forever in my debt,” she replied.

Shaking his head with a smile, he stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

After they shook on it, he slung his bag over one shoulder and left her alone in the Archive. With newfound energy, she skimmed through the stack of books until the grandfather clock in the corner suggested it was dawn.

Tenley made her way back to the dorm.

As she dressed for the school day, she continued to stew about how she was going to warn Cedric. It had to be foolproof, but she saw holes in every potential plan. This line of thinking led her through the tunnel and out into the dungeon corridor. Making her way toward the Great Hall, she wracked her brain and wished for the answer to appear in front of her. It was then that she walked past the hallway that displayed the painting of a woman wearing a white sundress on a rope swing, gracefully pumping her legs back and forth.

The woman gave her a polite wave.

Tenley slowed, then stepped back to stare at the floor-length frame.

She hadn’t given it a single thought since Camilla had pointed out the Woman in White her first week. Looking back and forth to make sure no one was around, she sprinted down the hall towards it, then whispered.

“Can you let me in?”

“Depends,” the painted woman replied, sliding her feet into the grass to stop the swing. “Why should I?”

Tenley lifted up her hand to display the silver sword wrapped around her wrist.

“Very well.”

The portrait swung forward to reveal a black abyss.

Hesitantly, Tenley stepped inside, and the door suddenly shut behind her, leaving her swallowed by darkness. She lit the tip of her wand, exposing the thick layer of dust floating through the air. Slowly moving around the former clubhouse, the beam of light found cushy couches and armchairs that surrounded the long rectangular room. There were a number of paintings lining the walls, including the portrait of a sleeping man wearing a Shakespearean hat. He opened one eye, and grunted, “Point that someplace else.” Next to him, she noticed a torch. With a wave of her hand, it ignited. Then, one by one, flames sprung from the dozens of other torches, revealing black velvet and dark wood adorned throughout the room. Stretched along the middle of the floor, there was a long black rug with a swirling pattern of a silver dagger.

Perfect.

She had a place. Now, she just needed Cedric.

When the coast was clear, Tenley climbed out of the portrait hole, then turned to the Woman in White.

“Thank you. I’ll be back.”

The entrance hall was beginning to fill with students heading to breakfast. Tenley spotted the door leading to the Hufflepuff common room, then stopped the first student that emerged. It was a younger boy wearing a Support Cedric Diggory! badge.

“Nice button,” she offered.

The kid smiled, then his face fell when he caught the color of her robes.

“Can you find Cedric and tell him that Snape needs to see him in his office right away?”

Uncertain eyes stared up at her.

“It sounds urgent,” she added.

He nodded, then rushed back down the stairs.

With this, Tenley disappeared down to the dungeons, and stepped into a corridor close to the potion master’s office. As she waited, she listened to the patter of shoes near the Slytherin entrance up ahead.

After a few minutes, she finally heard the sound of footsteps nearing closer.

Then, there he was.

The sharp line of his jaw made her stomach flip.

As Cedric strolled past, she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dark corner. The surprise across his face quickly turned into a smile.

“Please tell me I don’t actually have to see Snape.”

“Just me.”

Her back against the wall, they stood in the shadows with only an inch between them.

He grinned down at her. “Well, that’s worlds better.”

“This is important,” she breathed, doing her best to ignore the proximity of their bodies. “Do you have time now?”

Cedric paused, then said, “I’ve got a half hour.”

“Then we better hurry,” she said, grabbing hold of his hand again.

First, peeking around the corner, she confirmed no one was in sight, then led him down the hall to the Woman in White. When they arrived, Tenley stepped behind him as he stared up at the portrait.

His lips twisted into a disapproving frown.

“So they told you about this, huh?”

Hands on his shoulder, she leaned close to whisper, “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

He didn’t need to know how literal that was.

She subtly raised her silver-cuffed wrist for the Woman in White to see. Puzzled, the painted woman’s eyes inspected Cedric, then turned to Tenley.

“You’re vouching for him?”

“I am.”

The woman shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

The portrait door swung open to reveal the torch-lit chamber. Tenley followed him inside and watched as he looked around in awe.

Quietly, he mumbled, “So this is the secret clubhouse…”

“They don’t use it anymore,” she affirmed. “No one will know we’re here.”

He gave her a sly smile. “Is that so?”

“Listen, this is serious,” she said. “You’ll be facing a dragon tomorrow.”

A flash of panic flickered past his grey eyes.

“How do you—”

“Trust me.”

Stunned, he walked toward the nearest couch and sat down. After a moment, he grinned up at her. “Well, that’ll definitely be a first.”

“It’s not funny,” she countered, pacing back and forth in front of him. “We’ve got to find a plan. I’ve thought about a heat-resistance spell, but it’s not effective on skin… A stunner won’t work on that large of animal, and hurting it will only make it angry. I think the best bet is to distract it—”

Staring up at her, he appeared amused. “You’re worried about me.”

“What?”

He stood, then stepped closer so that he was towering over her.

“Tenley Wright is worried about me,” he smiled. “I take that as a good sign.”

She placed her palms flat on his chest.

“Don’t think you’re so special,” she smirked.

“I see,” he teased. “So, you’ve talked to the others, have you? Given Fleur a few tips? Maybe coached Harry?”

Dropping her hands, Tenley quietly conceded, “Fine. I may be a little biased.”

“I appreciate it. Really,” he replied. “And thanks for not wearing one of those badges – they’re rather embarrassing, aren’t they?”

She shot him a defensive look, then said, “You’ve got the whole school behind you. That’s what matters.”

Cedric gave a small chuckle. “No pressure.”

“You just need a plan,” she asserted.

“You think I can distract it?”

She nodded.

“With what?”

“Something that it will go after instead of you,” she suggested while nervously picking at her skin. “I’ve seen you transfigure a rocket into a bird… but dragons eat large forest animals. How about a bear?”

He laughed. “I may be good at transfiguration, but I’m not that good.”

“A wolf?”

“I can try,” he shrugged.

Then, he withdrew his wand from his robes and waved it at an armchair across the room. Before their eyes, the four wooden legs grew hair and shrunk into the body of a spotted raccoon-like cat.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” he murmured.

As they walked towards the foreign animal, it hissed at them. Even the framed portraits on the back wall became interested in the spectacle and began whispering with each other.

Cedric gave another wave, and this time the legs collapsed even further and shaped into the largest rabbit Tenley had ever seen. With silver fur and long upright ears, it cowered in the corner.

“Cute,” she teased.

On the third try, the animal’s body grew taller and its fur grew longer until the sharp nose of a wolf stared back at them. In an instant, it howled, then took a running leap at them.

Without hesitation, Cedric lunged and brought Tenley to the ground just before the wolf could make contact. As he protectively covered her with his body, he used his free hand to fire a spell at the snarling animal just as it pounced again. Halfway through the air, it transformed back into a chair, toppling sideways and landing with a thud onto the rug.

For a brief moment, they were intertwined. Under the weight of his chest, she felt the quick beat of his heart and the heat of his breath on her neck.

Disentangling himself, Cedric rolled over. Laying side-by-side with his arm still underneath her neck, they stared up at the crown-molded ceiling.

“On second thought,” Tenley said between short breaths. “Let’s not risk you being eaten by two animals.”

With a slight tilt of her head, she caught the corner of his eye, and they both broke into a smile. For a moment, their laughter washed away all concerns that waited for them outside those walls.

Once they collected themselves, Tenley turned onto her side to get a better look at him, and he followed suit. As Cedric’s grey eyes surveyed her face, she felt the fear creeping back in.

“Hey,” he said, reaching over to graze her cheek. “It’ll all work out.”

He then got to his feet, and offered out his hands. When she grabbed hold of them, he lifted her off the ground, and put his arm around her waist to steady her.

Tenley gently brushed the dust off of his shoulders, then said, “Keep practicing, will you?”

“Of course! I’ve got a date to secure.”

Suppressing a smile, she turned toward the door, then felt his fingers wrap around her palm.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I owe you.”

Tenley quietly shook her head.

Cedric assured her again, “I’ll be alright.”

She locked eyes with him.

“You better,” she warned.

They shared a smile, then he squeezed her hand before letting Tenley slip through the portrait hole. Instead of joining her friends in the Great Hall, she decided to make her way up the seven flights of stairs to the Arithmancy classroom. While trying to review last week’s notes, her head replayed the last hour over and over, hoping it had been enough.

Eventually, Camilla threw her bag down next to her.

“Didn’t see you at breakfast,” she observed.

“Lost track of time in the Archive,” Tenley replied.

It wasn’t not true.

“Find anything more about your family? I know last night was a bit of a bust.”

“Not really,” she replied. “Still cool to dig up some history. Thanks for letting me take the handkerchief.”

“Sure,” Camilla shrugged. “Just wish we had gotten a better lot after all the trouble.”

At the sound of the bell, Professor Vector commanded the room. “Put your quills away! You’ll be doing mental calculations today.”

They spent the rest of class making predictions on the outcome of the game ‘stone, cloak, wand’, which Tenley quickly learned was the wizard equivalent of ‘rock, paper, scissors’.

It was not the best day for her to be calculating complex equations in her head.

She wondered if there was an arithmatic way to ensure Cedric’s survival, but based on her performance on today’s lesson, she doubted that she’d be able to pull it off. Failing to predict the first several rounds, she resorted to guessing, which ended up having a higher success rate.

It wasn’t until after lunch that she managed to find her brother to update him on the latest developments.

“I knew that symbol would point to her killer!” Fitz exclaimed after she showed him both the handkerchief and photo from the time capsule.

Tenley was less certain.

“Good luck proving it without a motive or a murder weapon.”

“Don’t forget the note,” Fitz reminded her. “‘He knows.’ Maybe Phineas killed her ‘cuz of something he found out.”

“Let’s wait to see what’s in the case files,” she suggested.

“You really think this Pucey guy will get them for us?”

“It’s our best shot,” she replied.

The next day, the first task was all anyone could talk about, yet somehow, they still had to get through their morning classes. Professor Sprout started the lesson by enthusiastically describing how to grow magical hedges, then let them go early once she realized no one was paying attention. As Tenley followed her friends back to the castle from the greenhouses, she caught sight of a large bald man in brilliant purple robes striding through the entrance hall.

“Uncle Kingsley!” She called out, running up to him.

He smiled wide, then leaned down to wrap her in a big hug.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Thought I’d pay a visit to an old friend,” he replied. “Walk with me?”

Together, they continued on down the corridor.

“I see you’ve followed in the family footsteps,” he said, motioning toward her green-lined robes.

“About that…” Tenley began. “If you went to school here, why didn’t Mom?”

Kingsley raised his eyebrows, “She never told you?”

With a disapproving shake of his head, he continued.

“Our parents didn’t like Dumbledore… so it caused quite a stir when he became headmaster,” he explained with a soft chuckle. “Since I was in my fourth year at the time, they let me stay, but when Reyna came of age, they sent her to Durmstrang.”

Tenley tried to imagine her mom walking around in those deep crimson robes and furs. Having heard Miko talk about their institute in the mountains, she wondered what her mom’s school days were like.

As if reading her mind, Kingsley added, “She wasn’t a fan.”

This wasn’t a shock. However, it was validating to learn her grandparents had the right idea about Dumbledore.

“You don’t have a problem with him then?”

“With Albus? Of course not. You can trust him.”

“I’m not so sure,” Tenley grumbled. “What’s he doing letting a fourteen-year-old compete in this tournament?”

As they ascended the west stairwell, Kingsley lowered his voice.

“We had a feeling something like this was going to happen,” he said. “Everyone’s on guard to make sure no harm comes to Harry.”

“And the other champions?”

“They know the risks,” he replied.

This did nothing to relieve the tightness in her chest. Of course, Potter would have a cavalry of protection around him while Cedric was left to fend for himself.

They arrived in front of a rather large and hideous stone gargoyle.

“Well, this is me,” Kingsley announced before addressing the statue. “Sugar quill.”

Suddenly, the gargoyle jumped to the side, revealing a winding stone staircase. As he approached the first step, all of Tenley’s unanswered questions boiled inside her until one finally bubbled to the surface.

“Why’s everyone so against our house?”

Kingsley hesitated, then turned back to face her.

“It wasn’t always that way,” he answered grimly. “I used to think it could be salvaged… but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was your age, I saw good people turn angry and scared,” he explained with a vacant look in his eyes. “I once thought I could fix it from the inside, but Voldemort’s dogma spread through our common room like a cancer.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to say his name.”

“And give him that power?” he posed. “No, it’s best not to act out of fear. That’s exactly how we got into this mess.”

“But he’s gone now! Why can’t people just move on?”

With a sad smile, Kingsley said, “I’m afraid that kind of hate doesn’t just disappear. It always ends up finding its way back.”

He returned to the staircase, and it slowly began to rotate him upward. He called out to her, “I hope you have better luck than I did.”

Then, with a wink, he was out of sight.

Once all morning classes had been completed, anticipation reached a whole new level as students quickly devoured their lunch. Tenley was half listening to Odin’s latest theory on the Triwizard Tournament’s economic impact. However, most of her attention was on the Hufflepuff table where Cedric was politely nodding along to the animated conversation happening around him. She could tell he was distracted. Eventually, she watched Professor Sprout tap him on the shoulder and usher him toward the door.

Just before exiting the hall, Cedric glanced her way.

She gave him a reassuring smile.

When the plates had cleared, they all followed the large stream of students outside. To Tenley’s surprise, it wasn’t the quidditch pitch that everyone was headed towards. Instead, they were being led to the other end of the grounds to walk along the perimeter of the forest.

“Do you hear that?” Cass said.

They’d wrapped far enough around the tree line that the castle was no longer in view. Nearing closer to a tent up ahead, the sound of beastly screeches and snarls became clearer. Tenley felt the pit in her stomach deepen as her friends took turns guessing what lay in wait for the champions.

On the other side of the tent, the crowd climbed up tall bleachers that surrounded a large wooden enclosure. There seemed to be some kind of hazy filter distorting their vision. As if watching a dream, they looked down upon a rough terrain with large boulders and jagged rock littered about. Among the hundreds of people filling the stands, Tenley caught sight of her mom, dad, and Kingsley all sitting together in the front row.

Hazel pointed, “Look!”

Across the arena, a half-dozen leather-clad wizards were pulling thick chains through an open gate in the fence. With them, emerged a giant dragon with silvery-blue scales and sharp horns that cascaded down its head, back, and tail. Gasps and various shouts of “dragon!” were drowned out by a shrill screech.

Then, it reared its ugly head, unhinged its maw, and projected a long torrent of flames straight at the stands. Panicked people screamed and covered their heads as the fire was absorbed by some kind of transparent barrier that protected the onlookers.

“They’re insane!” Camilla cried.

With a smirk, Odin leaned over and muttered, “They weren’t kidding about the deadly part.”

As the dragon-wranglers left the field, the scaly blue beast firmly planted its feet in front of, what looked like, a nest of eggs.

Off into the distance, a whistle sounded.

They anxiously surveyed the landscape for any sign of movement.

Then, the flap of the adjacent tent rustled, and Cedric stepped out, wand-drawn.

This time, a loud roar erupted from the crowd as they clapped and cheered for their champion. All the while, Tenley was stiff as stone.

She stared at the dragon as its neck craned with agitation from the noise.

“Apologies! Apologies!” An out-of-breath voice loudly boomed. “This is Ludo Bagman welcoming everyone to the first task!”

With her eyes locked onto Cedric, she watched him carefully inch forward while checking offsides to get a feel for the arena.

“As you can see, we’ve already begun!” Bagman hurriedly continued. “Each champion must steal the golden egg from their assigned dragon. Here, we have Cedric Diggory up first, facing off against the Swedish Short-Snout.”

Raising up on its hind legs, the dragon spread its wings and let out a warning screech that made her blood run cold. Testing the waters, Cedric ran to the left and ducked behind a large rock formation just as a jetstream of fire sprang from the dragon’s mouth.

“Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow,” the announcer said, but the rest of his commentary seemed to be drowned out by the blood pulsing against her own ears.

The dragon charged forward, using its spindly tail to swipe at the boulder that Cedric’s back was to. He dove out of the way of the collapsing rubble, landing on his stomach. From the ground, he shot red sparks from his wand that caused the dragon to momentarily lose its balance. This was enough time for Cedric to jump to his feet and get behind another rock barrier closer to the nest.

He aimed a spell across the field, but it was interrupted, bouncing off shimmering blue scales as the dragon spotted him. Cedric peered out from his hiding place, and tried again. This time, his spell hit a large boulder on the other side of the arena that quickly began sprouting four legs.

The dragon leapt into the air.

Tenley covered her eyes.

There was a thunderous thud and the sound of cracking rock along with a collective gasp from the crowd. Between her fingers, she saw Cedric lying on his back. The dragon loomed over him, mouth widening.

Then, a bark.

The dragon hesitated.

In the opposite direction, what once was a boulder, now sat a black Labrador Retriever whining and wagging its tail.

The lizard-like head turned toward the dog, allowing Cedric to crawl out from under its shadow. He didn’t waste any time. Once he was back on his feet, he launched himself behind another rock to catch his breath.

Meanwhile, the black Lab was running around the perimeter of the arena. Now only a few yards from the nest, the Short-Snout charged headfirst into the dog’s path. As if enjoying a pleasant game, the dog ducked underneath the dragon, weaving in and out of its legs. Frustrated, the creature pierced the sky with another screech.

Chest heaving, Cedric stayed put.

The dragon nipped and threw spurts of fire at the dog as they chased each other around the eggs. As Tenley began wondering how he was going to lead them away from the nest, Cedric lifted his hand and let out a loud whistle.

The dog’s ears perked up.

He whistled again, and the dog bounded in his direction with the dragon at its tail.

Now, he was on the move.

Circling around the wall of rock, Cedric carefully snuck out the other side, keeping his eye on the animals. Assured that they were keeping each other preoccupied, he sprinted toward the nest about fifty yards away.

He was in the clear, closing in on the prize, when the dragon paused all of a sudden. As if by mother’s intuition, it looked back to see Cedric nearing its nest. With a deep-bellied roar, the dragon changed course, sending a giant surge of fire his way.

Tenley yelped.

When the billow of smoke cleared, Cedric was knelt to the ground, clutching the side of his face in pain. Jaw clenched in defiance, he began army-crawling toward the nest only a few feet away. The dragon’s sharp talons took a swipe at him, but he rolled out of the way just in time, then lunged for the golden egg.

The moment he grabbed hold of it, the stands erupted into cheers, and the dragon-wranglers rushed onto the scene to restrain the Short-Snout. With the egg securely under his arm, Cedric stood, and slowly turned around to take in the crowd. The whole school was chanting his name. Even the black Lab raced over to give its congratulations.

Tenley, however, was more focused on the damage inflicted.

Disheveled would be an understatement. From up high, it looked like his clothes were singed, and half his skin was raw.

Then, without warning, his body gave out and Cedric crumpled to the ground.

Before she knew it, Tenley was on her feet.

Nails digging into her skin, she stood watching as two men carried Cedric’s limp body out of the arena and through a small white tent.

Then, she was on the move.

Ignoring the concerned calls from her friends, she stepped over students, quickly making her way past the bench of people toward the exit. When she reached the bottom of the steep staircase, she routed directly to the medic tent, then paused outside to listen through the thin tarp.

“He needs proper rest,” a woman’s voice said. “Give me a few hours, and he’ll be good as new.”

“But isn’t there-”

“Mrs. Diggory, there is nothing you can do for him at this very moment,” the nurse replied, slightly annoyed. “I assure you, he’s in good hands.”

“Let’s head back to our seats,” a man suggested. “We’ll be sure to see him afterwards. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.”

Tenley stepped out of the way just as two figures, presumably Cedric’s parents, emerged. The stocky man led his wife back to the stands with an arm around her waist. Still, the woman seemed unconvinced. Every few feet, she’d look back at the medic tent, concern lining her face. At one point, she briefly locked eyes with Tenley and forced a small smile.

Now assured that Cedric was going to be fine, Tenley knew the next reasonable course of action would be to follow his parents back to her seat. However, she stood frozen in place, anxiously tapping her fingers at her side.

She had no business - really, no right-

Without another thought, she slid through the flaps of the tent.

The room was just big enough for four cots to be lined up with thin cloth dividers in between. On the far left, Cedric was lying flat on his back, unconscious.

He looked terrible.

His golden-brown hair was matted down with sweat and dirt. His shirt was torn and scorched in several places, and worst of all, angry red burns covered the right side of his face. An older woman was leaned over him, dabbing his arms with a damp cloth.

“Dragons… what kind of lunacy,” the nurse muttered under her breath. When she heard the presence of someone new, she called out, “Yes?”

“The tournament coordinators sent me,” Tenley confidently stated. “To help.”

Madam Pomfrey looked up and studied her. “A student?”

“Yes, well, it’s good experience for when I become a healer,” she offered.

With a shake of her head, she said, “I suppose it can’t hurt.”

The nurse stood, handing Tenley a cloth and a little glass bottle labeled ‘Essence of Dittany’. Just before leaving the tent, she instructed, “Use this to clean the open wounds. I’ll be back with something more for the burns.”

Swallowing back all fear, Tenley walked over to his bedside and got to work.

Gently, she pressed the potion-soaked cloth over a bloody gash along his forearm, causing a puff of green smoke to rise with a hiss of mending skin. In seconds, the wound began to close, leaving behind no sign of a scratch. Meanwhile, she listened to the muffled commentary of Ludo Bagman and reactions of the crowd as the second champion faced their dragon.

She moved on to his shoulder, and then up to his neck.

As she tended to the scrape along his cheek, she felt him wince.

“Cedric?”

He stirred, slowly opening his eyes.

“Where-” he started, trying to lift his head.

“Don’t move,” she warned. “That dragon did a number on you.”

He attempted a grin, but the pain forced his lips into a grimace. His voice came out low and hoarse. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

“Not well enough,” she sighed, brushing the cloth along his eyebrow.

“Hey,” he rasped, unfurling his fingers. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She placed her free hand in his.

“Let’s hold off on any ‘thank you’s until you’re back on your feet.”

“Maybe I should fight dragons more often…” he offered, staring up at her with a glint in his eye. “If that’s what it takes to spend time with you.”

She shook her head low to hide her smile.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey strode through the tent, stirring the contents of a ceramic jar with a little spoon. Promptly, she said, “Oh good, you’re awake.”

Tenley gave Cedric’s hand a discrete squeeze before sitting back and addressing the nurse. “How’d I do?”

“He looks better,” she stated, scanning his skin. “It’s lucky he didn’t break anything, although his face will take longer to heal. Here.”

The nurse handed her the ceramic jar filled to the brim with some kind of purple-grey clay.

“Belladonna Balm,” Madame Pomfrey explained. “Spread a thick layer over his burns and let it sit. After the hour, we’ll be able to tell if it needs to be reapplied.”

Applause arose from the arena.

“Let’s see what damage they’ve done to the Beauxbaton girl,” the nurse muttered, then left through an adjacent tent.

Cedric gingerly lifted himself up into a sitting position.

“So you’re the new apprentice?” he teased.

“What can I say,” Tenley smirked. “I heard healing was a good career path.”

The purple clay was ice cold as Tenley dipped her finger into the jar. She leaned close, then carefully smoothed the mixture across his rough fiery-red cheek. After the initial sting of the first touch, Cedric closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. As the cool clay warmed to his skin, it slowly turned the orange color of a setting sun.

She continued, delicately painting across his forehead to the bridge of his nose, and then down to his collarbone. When she reached his cracked lips, he couldn’t contain a smile.

“Stay still,” she hissed.

He quickly composed himself, but she felt his eyes on her as she traced the line of his jaw. Moving slowly, she made sure not to miss a spot.

“Okay,” she breathed. “I think that’s it. How do you feel?”

“Better than ever.”

“Good, because you look ridiculous,” she snickered.

“That’s your own handiwork!” he laughed in return. Then, he leaned back and rested his hands around the back of his neck. “I’m starting to think you actually want me to win.”

“Survive,” she countered. “And… so what if I do?”

“We say to hell with our deal, and I take you out on that date.”

“Nice try,” she smiled. “Think of what people would say! They’d think you’ve gone crazy…”

She watched his mind drift as her words took hold.

“Maybe so,” he said with an uncertain sigh. “Or you worry that’s what your friends will think about you?”

Tenley crossed her arms, and looked down at her feet.

“Neither of us want that kind of attention,” she countered.

He pondered this, then conceded with a shake of his head. “So where does that leave us?”

“The clubhouse,” she suggested, biting her lip. “Meet tomorrow after dinner?”

Cedric nodded, “Tomorrow.”

In the distance, a dragon shrieked, and the crowd let out a horrified gasp. They took a moment to listen to the play-by-play. By the sound of it, Viktor Krum’s dragon had accidentally stomped on its own eggs. They exchanged amused expressions. Then, not a minute later, thunderous applause suggested that Krum had been successful in retrieving his egg.

Once the Durmstrang cheers had died down and the scores were counted, Bagman boomed, “Last, but certainly not least, we have Mr. Harry Potter up against the Hungarian Horntail.”

“Harry actually warned me about the dragons yesterday,” Cedric mentioned.

“What!?”

“Yeah, right after breakfast,” he added.

“What’s he playing at?” she said exasperated. “How’d he find out?”

“I think he was just being helpful… but for a moment, I thought you had told him.”

Tenley snorted, “I can assure you, I’m doing everything in my power to throw that kid off his game. He’s already getting enough special treatment.”

“Well, give him some slack, will you?” Cedric said with a smile. “He’s out there facing a dragon just like the rest of us.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re too nice for your own good, Diggory.” Then, she stood, “I better go before Madame Pomfrey asks me to stitch anyone else up.”

At the tent exit, she looked back at him.

He was in a significantly better state than when she had first found him.

His shirt was still ripped and singed, but the wounds had healed, only leaving behind marks of dried blood and dirt. Most importantly, he was awake, sitting upright, watching her with a light in his grey eyes. Even with the burnt orange clay caked across half his face, she couldn’t deny the skin-tingling electricity of his gaze.

“Tomorrow,” she affirmed before slipping out of his sight.

When Tenley got back to the stands, everyone’s eyes were glued to the arena. As she shuffled past people, they quickly looked around her to keep watching the action on the field. Reaching her group of friends, Hazel was the first to acknowledge her.

“Where the hell were yuh?”

Before Tenley could answer, she suddenly pointed to the field. “Look!”

Some kind of thin torpedo was hurtling through the sky toward the skinny dark-haired kid on the field.

“Outside objects?” Camilla commented. “That can’t be within the rules, can it?”

“It’s Potter,” Cass reminded her. “I’m surprised they didn’t let him just summon the egg right to him.”

Sure enough, Harry Potter had summoned a broomstick, and was now flying around the arena to avoid his dragon. Within minutes, Potter had grabbed the golden egg with barely a scratch on him. Among the roar of the cheering crowd, they all begrudgingly clapped their hands, and when it came time for scoring, nearly all the judges gave him top marks.

As they made their way back to the castle, the sun had already dipped below the tree line. Tenley explained away her absence, claiming she had felt sick. Without having to elaborate further, her friends filled her in on what she had missed. Harry and Viktor were tied for first place, Cedric was in second, and Fleur came in third.

“All that for second,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Camilla questioned.

Shifting gears, Tenley said, “Clearly favoritism was at play.”

They all nodded their heads in agreement while entering the Great Hall, which was noticeably bare. There were no students sitting at the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff tables, and they didn’t see anyone from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons either.

“Probably celebrating,” Cass grunted, no doubt imagining what it would have been like to be selected as the Slytherin champion.

With the extra space, Tenley decided to venture over to sit with her brother, which earned her disapproving looks from the present Ravenclaws. She’d learned that their house was the friendliest towards the Slytherins, but only by a slim margin. Once she sat down, Tenley took notice of the pretty soft-skinned girl across the table from Fitz, wearing a ribbon in her smooth black hair.

“Cho,” she acknowledged.

“Tenley,” her dueling opponent returned with a sly smile. “How are you?”

“Well. Thank you,” she said shortly.

Sensing tension, Fitz looked back and forth between the two of them before saying “You two know each other?”

“Somewhat,” Tenley answered, stabbing her fork into a sausage.

“Tenley, here, tried to sell me on one of those ‘Potter Stinks’ badges,” Cho politely offered with a glint of humor.

Unamused, Tenley’s eyes narrowed.

Then, casually waving her fork in the air, she replied, “Aren’t you still waiting for him to ask you out? Potter?”

Cho went pink as the curly-haired girl next to her giggled. “I keep telling her! It’s just a matter of time!”

Tenley smirked, “Well, your boy did well today. I’ll give you that.”

Forcing a smile, Cho turned away from them to start a private conversation.

“Really, Ten?” Fitz scolded, lowering his voice. “It’s hard enough to make friends.”

“Oh, you can do better,” she assured him. “Haven’t found anyone to obsess over murder cases with yet?”

He shook his head, then quickly redirected. “I went back to the tree today.”

“To see the marking again?” Tenley guessed.

He nodded, “They must be numbers, right? A ten and a one.”

“Maybe it’s a significant date? A birthday or… an anniversary?”

“Whatever it is…" he pondered. “It was significant enough for someone to put on both a tree and a handkerchief.”

“Could Dorothy have done it?”

“Possibly,” Fitz said, “but unlikely.”

“Why?”

“Well, if she had time to carve something before she died, you’d think it’d be the killer’s name, right? Not some cryptic code.”

“But what reason would the killer have to leave a mark?” Tenley argued. “Unless you buy that bible verse theory.”

Fitz thought for a moment, “I’m not sure… but we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for anything you can find on Phineas Black, will you?”

Eager to return to her dorm, Tenley quickly finished her meal and wished her brother a good night. More than happy to tuck in early and crawl into bed, she sank into her pillows and began letting go of all the panic and dread that had gripped her over the past couple days.

Finally, she could breathe freely knowing Cedric was alive and well. That’s what mattered.

She was able to keep that peace of mind all the way up until Potions the next day.

Despite the Hufflepuffs’ abnormally cheery mood, their champion was nowhere in sight. While most were sharing highlights from last night’s party, the two lovebirds, Summer Marks and Graham Appleby were in quiet conversation with one another. Tenley strained her ears to hear what they were saying.

“…think he’s in the hospital wing?” Summer whispered.

Graham shrugged his burly shoulders, “I dunno.”

Tenley’s stomach dropped.

Not even Cedric’s friends knew where he was.

What if his recovery had gone wrong? He could be bleeding out somewhere, or walking around in a delirious state. She began to spiral.

Although tasked to transmute mercury into gold, Tenley spent the rest of class picturing scenarios, each one more implausible than the last.

When it came time for Snape to inspect each station, Tenley braced herself.

While everyone else’s cauldron resembled warm molasses, she had somehow created more of a charred rubber concoction. She could already hear the snide remarks brewing under the surface of Snape’s sneer. However, after seeing the tired look of defeat in her eyes, he decided to pass her by without a word. She did not have the same luck in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Mad-eye Moody was in rare form, ranting and raving about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He specifically called out Tenley more than once, forcing her to admit that she hadn’t heard the question.

“You should know this,” he growled. “How did the Dark Lord summon his followers?”

“I don’t know, Professor,” Tenley mumbled for the third time that class period.

“A tattoo branded on their forearm!” he shouted. “The Dark Mark, it’s called. Many of you have already seen the image cast over the Quidditch World Cup this summer. Can anyone tell me what it looks like?”

Alphonzo Fluke, a quiet boy from their year spoke up. “It’s a skull eating a snake.”

Moody flashed a sinister smile, “I bet your uncle is still trying to get rid of his. Isn’t that right?”

The boy sunk deep down into his chair as Moody continued.

“It’s permanent!” he spouted. “As the Dark Lord’s power faded, so have the tattoos, but once you're marked, your're marked forever. His followers are patiently waiting for their skin to burn again, so they can apparate to his side.”

Odin called out, “You make it sound like the Dark Lord will return.”

In a hushed tone, Moody replied, “Never underestimate the power of dark magic, Mr. Sideris.”

At dinner that night, Camilla casually mentioned between bites, “How could anyone be stupid enough to be branded? Especially with something so ugly.”

Odin shrugged, “Guess they really believe in what they’re fighting for.”

“A bit extreme, innit?” Hazel suggested.

“Sure,” he accepted. “But sometimes you got to break a few eggs.”

She snorted, “What does that even mean?”

“I would never use dark magic,” Odin clarified, “but some think it’s the only effective way to stand up for wizard rights.”

Tenley had no interest in joining this discussion about Moody’s lesson. She was busy scanning the Great Hall, hoping that she’d finally see Cedric surrounded by all of his friends at the Hufflepuff table.

Still, nothing.

As they walked back to the common room, she said “I’ve just remembered I said I’d meet up with Fitz. I’ll see you later.”

Once her friends were out of sight, she headed toward the clubhouse entrance with the last remaining hope of seeing Cedric. However, that hope quickly evaporated when she turned down the empty corridor.

As she waited, worry continued to creep in.

The image of his battered body, bloody and raw, began to eat at her mind.

Maybe he’d taken a turn for the worse.

After ten minutes had passed, she decided it was time to check the hospital wing. She turned on her heels and headed back out into the main hall. As she turned the corner, she collided with a tall figure.

It was him.

Rather than relief, suddenly all fear molded into frustration.

Without missing a beat, she quickly pulled him through the portrait hole, and gave his chest a small shove.

“Where’ve you been?”

The stress of the day simmered inside her, and the amusement in his grey eyes only fanned the flames. From his ruffled golden hair down to his chiseled chin, there was no sign that he’d been badly burned just hours before. She felt lightheaded from his all-consuming scent of cedar and sage, and her blood began to boil louder and louder in her ears. She saw his mouth begin to move.

“I’m sorry. They let me-”

Suddenly, his shirt collar was in her fist.

She pulled him close and caught the bottom of his lip with her own.

Hesitant and gentle at first, he reached up to cup her face in his calloused hands. Like steam rising from a hot kettle, every cell in her body began to float as he leaned heavily into the kiss.

When they slowly parted, Cedric rested his forehead against hers.

Tenley spoke in a low whisper, “You were saying?”

“Nothing important,” he breathed back.

Then, Cedric tilted his head down until she felt the softness of his lips again. Placing his hands on her hips, her body buzzed under his touch. She reached up to wrap her hands around his neck, melding further into him.

The room disappeared, along with time itself.

That is, until the titter of voices met her ears. Tenley tried to ignore it, but their chirping grew louder.

Breaking apart, Tenley peered around Cedric to glare at the artwork on the back wall. In the middle, there was a Monet-style scene of a lake where three subjects were huddled together, gossiping with each other.

“Excuse me,” she called out. The people froze mid-conversation while the surrounding portraits pretended to be distracted with a book or flower in their frame. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something.”

A girl carrying a parasol piped up. “Apologies, apologies! Carry on!”

Tenley shook her head, then looked up at Cedric.

Laughter in his grey eyes, he gave a slight shrug before kissing her again. Firmer this time, he pulled her in tight against his chest.

Within seconds, the voices popped up again.

“She does, doesn’t she?"

“It’s uncanny.”

Still locked in each other’s arms, they both turned to look at the rude painting.

“Apologies,” the girl said again. “It’s just that… we couldn’t help but notice you bear a striking resemblance to-”

“Yes?” Tenley replied impatiently.

In unison, every painted subject along the wall pointed a finger to a large canvas on the other side of the room.

Cedric eyed her with a look of intrigue that made her skin prickle. He took hold of her hand, and together, they walked over to stare up at the portrait in question.

Within the frame, a thin dark-skinned woman with high cheekbones and copper eyes sat upon a throne. She wore a gold crown around her head of dense black curls, and she looked down at Tenley with a hint of curiosity.

“It’s you,” Cedric said.

He wasn’t wrong. The woman in the portrait did look a great deal like her, so much so that it was almost like staring into a mirror.

“Who are you?” Tenley asked.

Coyly, the royal woman surveyed her up and down, then replied.

“Medea. Princess of Colchis.”

“Medea?” Tenley questioned. “As in the Greek myth?

Chin raised high, the woman coolly restated, “As in the Princess of Colchis.”

Cedric leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Portraits don’t usually know that much about their subjects.”

Lips pursed, the painted princess spoke directly to Tenley. “Why does this boy think he can insult my intelligence?”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Of course I have heard the stories,” she cut in. “And I must say, they don’t always paint me in the best light.”

Hiding a smile behind her hand, Tenley said. “Well then… what’s the real story?”

“You must know,” she asserted. “You’re a Shacklebolt, are you not?”

Copper eyes connected, Tenley stared blankly at her painted reflection.

Medea continued, “I’ve seen our bloodline across hundreds of generations. There’s no doubt about it.”

“We’re… related?”

“Don’t be so dense, dear,” she pronounced. “It’s not a good look for us. We come from one of the oldest ruling wizarding families. You must know your ancestry.”

“Well, I… I…” Fumbling for words, hot humiliation began to climb up her neck.

“You must’ve heard about the Guard?” the princess questioned, observing her closely. “No? Not even our oath?”

This only inflamed her further. What the hell was she talking about? What oath?

Medea sighed, “A shame, really.”

“It’s not my fault that they’ve kept these things from me!” Tenley cried.

In an instant, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

Tenley caught a glimpse of Cedric’s reassuring smile and, for a moment, her whole body softened. Only a few minutes ago she was locked in his arms, and a part of her longed to be back there… but this was the closest she’d come to finding anything meaningful about her family.

“Due to a lack of trust, perhaps?” Medea pondered.

Tenley glared at her, then fired back, “Says the woman who stole from her own family.”

Across her painted face, Tenley swore she saw a glimmer of respect.

“I may have been created in her likeness,” Medea replied with an air of formality, “however, I do not condone her actions. I mean, betrayed by a muggle. How embarrassing.”

“I remember this one…” Cedric spoke up. “The witch falls in love with a muggle, and then runs off with the Golden Fleece. That’s you?”

“Allegedly,” she grimaced.

“But it’s real,” Tenley confirmed. “The Fleece actually exists?”

Medea scoffed, “I take it back. No descendent of mine would be so ignorant of her own history.”

“Tell me then.”

“No,” she stated. “Not until you can prove where your loyalties lie.”

Baffled, Tenley said, “And how do I do that?”

“Let’s see…” she mused, “How about you bring me a family heirloom?”

“You’re kidding.”

The princess smirked, “If you truly belong to the Shacklebolt bloodline, one shouldn’t be hard to come by.”

Tenley turned and gave Cedric a look of defeat.

With a grin, he said, “Well, who knew I was in the presence of royalty?”

Rolling her eyes, Tenley gave his shoulder a playful swat.

In response, Cedric pulled her by the waist, then wrapped his arms around her from behind. Tenley leaned back into his chest as his lips brushed the crook of her neck, sending tingles down her spine.

Medea watched them with a grim expression.

“Tragedy is an unavoidable consequence of love,” she muttered. “Remember that.”

Ignoring her, Tenley and Cedric spent the next hour in quiet conversation.

Cross-legged on the couch, they sat opposite each other with his hands in her lap. Her fingers slowly traced the creases in his palm as they whispered about ancient betrayals and bloodlines. Then, when they had exhausted that topic, she explained her brother’s murder mystery.

When she got to the part about digging up the time capsule, his eyes grew wide, “You did not!”

“I did,” she admitted coyly. “How many house points will that cost me?”

He thought for a moment, then leaned over to steal a kiss.

Tenley teased in his ear, “I think this makes you an accomplice.”

Shaking his head with a smile, he countered, “And I think you’re a bad influence.”

Just then, the deep clang of the clock tower tolled.

Tenley closed her eyes as the sound reverberated through her body.

The real world awaited.

Before parting ways for the night, they made sure to plan their next meeting.

Once she had safely returned to her dorm, Tenley fell back onto her mattress and grinned up at the ceiling. Giddy, like a child on a sugar high, she laid awake.

The rush of blood to the head washed away all worry.

Was it too good to be true?

Most definitely, but for the moment, her mind waded in it’s calm waters.

Every second with him felt like laying down a royal flush, and all Tenley wanted was to bask in the glow of her winning hand.

“You look happy,” Cass observed the next morning at breakfast.

A master of the half-truth, Tenley decided to fill her friends in on her conversation with Medea’s portrait.

“You were in the clubhouse?” Odin questioned with a hint of panic in his voice.

Tenley countered, “I’m a member, aren’t I?”

“No one should be using it,” he asserted.

Camilla raised an eyebrow at him, “What’s got you all bothered?”

“Yeah,” Tenley crossed her arms. “I thought you’d be excited to hear about the Golden Fleece.”

“I… I don’t want us to get caught again,” he explained. Then, between bites of porridge, he added, “You’re related to her, huh?”

“Looks like it,” she said with a sullen nod. “I don’t know where I’m gonna find an heirloom though.”

“Just take something from the common room,” Cass suggested. “How’ll she know the difference?”

She considered this for a moment, then shook her head, “No, too risky.”

Hazel chimed in, “Can’t yuh ask your mum?”

“That subject is off-limits,” she sighed.

“Well, you’re bound to share a family tree with someone around here,” Camilla offered. “I bet the Archive will help.”

Tenley agreed… but finding the time was a whole other challenge, especially when her evening and afternoon breaks were consumed by one particular prefect.

Their secret rendezvouses continued all throughout the next week.

After meals or during study breaks, sneaking away to see Cedric had become the best part of her day. Even when only allotted a few minutes, they tried to make the most of it. Aside from ‘snogging’, a term Tenley found to be rather revolting, she looked forward to his daily updates.

“It shrieks,” Cedric stated one afternoon as they laid together on the clubhouse couch. Tenley looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

“The egg,” he explained. “You know the one that I took from the dragon? I opened it up in the common room this morning. Woke up my whole house.”

She sat up.

“And that’s supposed to tell you something about the next task?”

With a smile, he offered, “How to apologize to a room full of cranky Hufflepuffs?”

Tenley leaned back into him, then frowned.

“What could be more dangerous than a dragon?”

He kissed the top of her head. “A Slytherin?”

“Funny,” she grumbled back.

Their time together never felt long enough, yet still, they had to make room for schoolwork. End of term finals were fast approaching, and professors seemed to take pleasure in piling on as many assignments as possible. Tenley made an effort to join her friends at their usual study table every few days, but they were starting to find holes in her excuses.

“I went lookin’ for yuh in the Archive yesterday.” Hazel mentioned as they walked into Potions the following Wednesday.

“Really?” Tenley said nonchalantly with a subtle glance at Cedric. “Must’ve just missed you.”

“Right…” she replied suspiciously as they sat down.

Once the bell rang, Professor Snape grimly stared around the classroom. In his disinterested drawl, he said “I’ve been tasked with telling you about The Yule Ball.”

“The what?” Camilla exclaimed.

“The Yule Ball,” he repeated dully. “Dress robes, dancing,” he stressed like he couldn’t imagine anything worse. “Apparently, it’s a tournament tradition. Fourth years and above may stay over holiday break and attend the ball on Christmas Day.”

A new energy spurred from Camilla. Tenley could already feel the wheels turning in her head, likely imagining her outfit and who her date would be…

A date.

The realization made her stomach churn.

“Mr. Diggory,” he snapped.

Tenley turned her head to look at Cedric along with the rest of the class.

His back straightened, “Yes, Professor.”

“You should know that the ball opens with a dance between the champions and their partners,” he sneered. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“No, Professor,” he suppressed a smile, then locked eyes with Tenley.

Her stomach dropped.

He was out of his mind if he thought she would do anything of the sort.

However, the alternative waltzed itself into her brain in nauseating detail.

There he was, his hands on the waist of another girl as the whole school looked on with envy and awe. This image plagued her through the remainder of class.

In stark contrast, Camilla was bursting at the seams with excitement.

“A ball! Did you ever think we’d be so lucky?” she beamed as they sat down for lunch, then rattled on, “Who are you thinking of asking? I’ve got my eye on Lucian, but I don’t know if he’s still seeing Franchesca.”

Avery sighed, “My parents will kill me if I’m not home for Christmas…”

For a moment, Tenley considered using this excuse, but the thought of being in their new house in London made her skin crawl.

No, she’d rather go to a stupid ball.

“I dunno,” Hazel shrugged. “Can’t we all just go together?”

“Fine by me,” Odin agreed.

Camilla rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun! C’mon, you’re telling me there’s no one you want to dress up for?”

“You’re right,” Cass said, then dramatically grabbed Hazel’s hand and got down on one knee. “Hazel Crane, will you do me the honor of being my date to the Yule Ball?”

“Yes! I thought yuh’d never ask!” she giggled.

He stood and brushed off his shoulders. “See, that was easy.”

Everyone laughed, except for Camilla.

She glared at them, then turned to Odin. “What about you?”

“Let it go, Cam,” he said gruffly.

“Fine,” she said, lips thin. “Tenley, please tell me you have someone more interesting in mind.”

She hesitated for a second too long.

“You do! Don’t you?” Camilla exclaimed. “Who have you been sneaking off with?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Leaning forward, they all waited patiently for her reveal.

With a sly smile, Tenley whispered. “Harry Potter.”

Her friends devolved into a fit of guffaws and giggles, then Camilla leaned in to gossip, “I wonder who he’s gonna ask, especially since he has to open the dance!”

Tenley looked around the table with a glint in her eye. “Didn’t you know?” she said. “He’s after Cho Chang.”

“She’s way out of his league,” Cass snorted, “but I wonder if she’ll go out with him just ‘cause he’s champion.”

“One of you could ask her,” Tenley suggested.

Odin lowered his eyes, “Why’re you looking at me?”

“I’m already spoken for,” Cass said, putting his arm around Hazel.

Lost in thought, Tenley mumbled, “Don’t worry, I’ve got a better idea…”

That afternoon, she found Fitz’ blonde-tipped curls amid the sea of students exiting the Great Hall.

Bouncing up next to him, she said, “I think you should ask Cho to the ball.”

Her brother looked at her like she had just suggested murder.

“Are you out of your mind?” he hissed. “She’s the most popular girl in my house.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. She’d be lucky to have you!”

Eyes narrowed, he said, “I’m not risking social suicide for whatever scheme you’ve got brewing.”

She feigned offense. “Me? Never.”

“Who are you going with?”

“No one yet,” she shrugged.

“What about that Pucey guy?” he offered. “Maybe that would secure us the files.”

Tenley side-eyed him. “Look at you being a little schemer… Don’t worry, I’ve got him in my pocket already.”

“How?”

“When we solve the mystery, he’ll be the public face of it,” she asserted.

“What?!”

“What, Fitz?” she smirked. “I thought this was all for Dorothy’s memory?”

He sputtered, “Sure, but… but… why would we let someone else take credit?”

“To get the files,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You’ll thank me later.”

He shook his head, then muttered, “If you say so.”

That night, Camilla gathered Tenley and Hazel in her cove.

It looked like a dress shop had exploded. Fabrics of all different colors and materials were strewn about her bed and floor. She began rifling through the piles. Every few seconds, she’d throw a garment up for one of them to catch.

“Camy, the dance is two weeks away,” Hazel consoled.

“Exactly!” she cried. “I can’t believe they gave us so little time to prepare.”

A dress hadn’t even crossed Tenley’s mind yet. Formal clothes were not something she’d thought to pack in her trunk.

Camilla smirked up at them, “Lucky for us, I’m always prepared.”

For the next hour, the three of them took turns trying on different styles until Camilla was satisfied with the result.

“Once I make some alterations,” she mumbled, removing the sewing pin from her mouth. “We’ll be the best dressed by far. No competition.”

Back in her own bed, Tenley laid awake thinking about the ball. For a moment, her mind drifted to the image of her in full regalia, walking down a staircase with Cedric waiting for her at the bottom. She’d take his arm and he’d lead her through the crowd.

A chorus of whispers entered the scene.

“Her?” they jeered. “Really?”

The horror on her friend’s faces swam into view. “That rat? How could you?”

No, she much preferred the way things were.

For now, they’d stay far away from the school’s prying eyes and unsavory opinions.

It still left the question of who Cedric should take instead…

Tenley knew the answer before she even finished her thought. It was right in front of her: a way to mess with the two people that she’d come to dislike the most.

Now, all she needed was to get Cedric on board.

When she arrived at the clubhouse the next night, she was surprised to find the Woman in White’s feet planted on the ground rather than swinging.

“There you are,” she said quietly. “I’m to give you a message.”

“Yes?”

“Go to the fifth floor,” the painted woman instructed. “West corridor. There’s a statue of Boris the Bewildered. Wait for him there.”

Intrigued, Tenley did as she was told.

Once she arrived on the fifth floor, her footsteps echoed as she walked down the empty hall. Next to a large stone statue, Cedric came into view.

Back leaned against a door, his hands were in the pockets of his black slacks. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to quarter-length and his striped necktie hung loose around the collar.

He beamed at her as she approached.

“What’s-”

He put a finger to her lips, then looked back and forth down the hall.

Satisfied that no one had seen them, he returned to the door.

Muttering something under his breath, he turned the handle and a wave of warm air wafted out, smelling strongly of eucalyptus. He took hold of her hand and led her through the doorway. Like stepping into a sauna, Tenley entered and was immediately met with the sound of rushing water. Through the steam, she gazed upon a white marbled room, illuminated only by the soft glow of a candle-lit chandelier.

“What is this?”

“Private bathroom for prefects,” he replied. “Check out the bath.”

Eyes wide, Tenley observed the large square basin cut into the middle of the floor.

“That’s not a bath,” Tenley mumbled. “That’s a swimming pool.”

There were dozens of taps surrounding the rim, already turned on, filling it with warm water and other heavily perfumed substances. Cedric walked over to the ledge to observe the half-filled pool.

Next to his feet was a large golden egg. It was the first time Tenley had seen the first task prize up close. Roughly the size of an American football, it sat upright next to a stack of fluffy white towels.

Motioning toward the egg, he said, “Mad-eye told me to open it underwater.”

Tenley’s brows furrowed. “Moody? Why’s he helping?”

Cedric shrugged, then began loosening his tie. “All I know is it works. Want to hear?”

“In there?” Stepping closer to the sudsy water, she gave a sly smile. “I think you’re just trying to get me undressed.”

He blushed, then looked up through his lashes.

That look’ll do it, she thought.

Wearing a playful grin, he placed one hand over his eyes.

“No peeking,” Tenley said, letting her green-lined robes slither to the floor. She kicked off her black boots, then began fumbling with her sweater.

“And you say I’m the bad influence…” she teased.

With her eyes trained on him, she discarded each piece of her uniform until she was down to her cream-colored bra and underwear. Despite the hot steam swelling from the pool, a shiver ran across her skin.

Hovering over the ledge, she dipped a toe into the frothy bath.

“My turn?” Cedric called over the rush of water.

She glanced back at the strait-laced prefect with his eyes still covered.

Before she knew it, her feet were clicking across the marble floor, closing the distance between them. Now only an inch apart, she grabbed hold of his necktie, then leaned close to his ear.

“Not yet.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Slipping the satin from his collar, she let the striped fabric fall to the floor.

Then, she thumbed the top button of his dress shirt.

Heart pounding in her throat, she released it and moved on to the next.

Gradually exposing more and more of him, she felt the heat radiating off his skin as his blush cascaded from his neck down toward his stomach. Every so often, her fingers would brush against his bare chest causing a slight catch in his breath.

When she ran out of buttons, Tenley reached up to wrap her fingers around his wrist. Then, slowly, she lowered his hand.

The intensity of his gaze made her freeze.

Something had taken over his grey eyes; a kind of longing that struck a deep chord. It magnified the electric current that ravenously burned through her body and… it scared her.

Abruptly, she took a step back.

Stammering, she talked to the floor, “We… we should get in.”

“Tenley-”

“I want to hear the egg!” she called, making her way over to the pool.

She lowered herself into the cloud of soap bubbles that sat upon the surface. The warm water enveloped her, soothing every inch of her body except for the chaotic flutter in her stomach.

Tenley busied herself with shutting off the taps as Cedric finished undressing. Still, she snuck a glance. The candlelight warmed his well-defined shoulders and back as he freed them from their cotton confines.

Reaching for his belt, he caught her eye.

With a guilty smirk, she quickly returned to the taps, stopping the water until only the subtle sizzling of soap bubbles could be heard.

Then, there was a splash.

Tenley spun around to see ripples from the middle of the pool. Within seconds, Cedric appeared at her side, soaking wet and grinning amongst the bubbles.

He held the golden egg up out of the water, “Ready?”

She nodded.

Carefully, he submerged the egg and unclasped its top latch. As it split open, a familiar green glow illuminated the water along with a faint chorus of voices.

The music grew louder as Tenley sunk below the surface. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened to the chilling, yet ethereal, song coming from the egg:

“Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you’re searching ponder this:
We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,
An hour long you’ll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour — the prospect’s black,
Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”

Tenley resurfaced, then dipped down to listen to it a couple more times.

“It’s gotta mean the Black Lake,” she finally gasped, wiping the water from her eyes. “Sounds like we’ve got to find a way for you to breathe underwater for an hour.”

He shook his head with a smile, “Took me ages to put that together… I wonder what I need to ‘recover’.”

“Something that you’ll miss,” she mused. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“Luckily we’ve got time,” said Cedric, closing the egg and placing it back over onto the marble floor. “Unlike a certain event coming up…”

Tenley joined him on a step where water swirled around their waists. Her exposed skin prickled while her braids dripped down her back. With a sigh, she said, “Let’s not think about that now.”

“We’ve got to talk about it eventually,” he countered.

“But this…" Leaning forward, she gently kissed his half-parted lips. “Is far more important.”

Suddenly, he scooped up her legs and pulled her onto his lap.

Her fingers found the back of his wet hair as his mouth firmly pressed against hers. Matching his fervor, her tongue clung tight to his.

Once they came up for air, Tenley lowered her head to nibble at his neck.

“I can’t argue with that,” he murmured in her ear. “But you know I have to go with someone…”

Slowing to a stop, Tenley peered up at him.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “If you must know… you’re going to ask Cho Chang.”

“Cho?” he stuttered. “I… I don’t… it’s not a good idea.”

Detaching herself, she climbed out of his arms. Water streamed down her body as she stood. “On the contrary, I think it’s a great idea.”

His eyes followed her while she stepped out of the pool.

“It should be you.”

“Unfortunately, I’m declining your offer,” she replied while ringing out her braids.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So, this is your game? Act like you don’t want to go with me?”

“Oh please… it’s not that serious,” she waved away.

Then, she wrapped herself in one of the fluffy white towels as Cedric made his way out of the pool. Drenched, wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs, she watched as he swiped the towel from the ground and began using it to ruffle his hair.

“You want to be with me,” he stated plainly.

“I’ll find someone else.”

He took a step closer to her. “You want it to be me.”

“You and Cho will make a lovely couple,” she said coolly.

Cedric captured her from behind, then softly said.

“But you want it to be me.”

“I want you to enjoy the night without me being a distraction,” she whispered

“Well… that would be inevitable.”

“You know what I mean,” she smiled, then gave his hand a playful slap. “And you know that I’m right! Ask her to the dance.”

His lips against her neck, he murmured. “This won’t change anything.”

Locked in his arms, Tenley solemnly stared ahead.

It better not.

No one needed to tell her when it happened. Tenley sensed it.

Maybe it was the extra girls surrounding Cho at breakfast or the discomfort written across Cedric’s face when they passed in the hall.

He’d done what she had asked.

He invited Cho to the Yule Ball, and she had said ‘yes’.

This is exactly what Tenley wanted.

It was all part of the plan. Cedric was required to go to the ball with someone, so why not slight Potter in the process?

Tenley grasped tight to every shred of vindication, but unfortunately, there was no one to share her triumph with. Only she and she alone knew about the strings being pulled, and no matter how often she told herself it was the best move, the pit in her stomach proved to be more distracting than anticipated.

It didn’t help that it’d been a week since her and Cedric had spent any time together. End-of-term exams were especially gruesome for sixth years, so studying had taken over their lives. Therefore, their only real form of communication had become the Woman in White. The painted woman waved her over whenever she had a new message from him.

“He wanted me to tell you,” she whispered to Tenley one evening. “That you looked especially nice today… which caused him to spill an entire vial of salamander blood into his dragon-pox drought.”

Tenley rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Tell him that he won’t be able to use that excuse for any of his other exams.” Then, she added softly, “And tell him to meet me on Saturday morning.”

For the majority of the following week, Tenley spent every moment of free time with her friends at their usual table, pouring over textbooks and scrolls of parchment. Every once in a while, they allowed themselves a break to play cards or to come up with their own arithmancy scenarios.

“I’ve got one!” Camilla called out one evening. “See how compatible I am with Miko.”

There was a collective groan. It’d been less than 24-hours since their Durmstrang friend had asked Camilla to the Yule Ball, and she could not stop talking about it.

Odin muttered, “Is there even a spell for that?”

“Sort of,” Tenley replied, then started scratching out the equation with her quill. Her friends continued the conversation around her as she performed the required data collection charm until finally, she concluded, “I’m afraid there’s only a 1 in 87 chance that you two work out.”

“Oh well,” she shrugged. “Plenty of fish.”

“You’re not going to actually listen to those numbers, are you?” Cass snorted.

“It’s only a bi’ of fun,” Hazel assured him. “C’mon, ask your own.”

“Right now, all I want to know is that we’re going to pass our classes.”

Tenley dramatically rolled up her sleeves one by one, then got to work. After a few minutes of calculations, she squinted down at her parchment.

1:29

Only a 3% chance that they were all going to pass? That couldn’t be right. She must’ve missed a step. Tenley crossed out the numbers, then looked up at her friends.

“It says here we’ve got a 96% shot at it,” she lied.

“See!” Hazel exclaimed. “Nothin’ to worry abou’!”

After her friends let out sighs of relief, Tenley urged them back to their books. She was almost settled back into her reading on the history of wizard colonization when Camilla interjected again.

“Have you found anything more about your family?”

“Not exactly,” Tenley shrugged, thinking back to the few stolen moments she’d spent in the Archive. “But I’m learning a lot… did you know there was a time when wizards were locked up and tortured?”

There were nods around the table.

“My granddad used to tell me loads of stories about the witch-hunters,” Cass commented casually. “Gave me nightmares as a kid.”

Odin hung his spikey head.

“That’s not even the worst part,” he said darkly. “They won.”

Tenley’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” he urged. “They wanted us gone. Exterminated. And what do they get? To live in blissful ignorance of our entire existence.”

“But the Statute of Secrecy is good. It protects us from them,” she offered feebly, hyper-aware that her heart had begun to beat heavily in her throat.

“And how does that make you feel, Tenley? Hiding from our executioners?”

“But we’re more powerful than them!” she exclaimed. “Why should we be afraid when we’ve got magic on our side?”

With a pleased smirk, Odin eyed the rest of the group, then folded his hands.

“I rest my case.”

Tenley pushed his comments aside to focus on the remainder of the week, which included a dire amount of charm practice, star charts, herbology presentations, and not to mention, an essay on the notorious wizard, Zeus. As the shriveled cherry on top, her last exam was to perform protective spells in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ever since she had found out that Moody had helped Cedric with the second task clue, she had a slightly more favorable impression of him. However, he clearly did not feel the same towards her.

“You’re not going to become an auror with that Patronus charm,” Moody growled once she finished her demonstration.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Tenley said through gritted teeth as she walked back to her seat. She didn’t have particularly warm feelings towards the law enforcement division of the ministry. Her uncle, Kingsley, worked as an auror, and she’d lost count of how many muggle minds he had altered over the years on behalf of her magical mishaps.

It didn’t sit right with her.

Was brainwashing the only way to be accepted by them? To be safe from them?

As she considered this, something else occurred to her.

At the end of the class period, she slowly packed up her things and waited for everyone to trickle out of the room. Then, she made her way over to Professor Moody as he was writing at his desk.

“You worked with my uncle, didn’t you?”

Without lifting his head, he grunted, “I know your uncle.”

“Do you… know anything about his parents?” she asked.

Moody set down his quill. His squinty beetle-like eye locked onto her and his whirring magical blue eye followed suit.

“Honorable people, your grandparents,” Moody replied with a somber tone. “Thames Shacklebolt died in the war… and as far as I heard, Cynthia did everything to carry on his legacy.”

Her ears perked up. She’d seen those names somewhere before.

“If they’re so great,” Tenley asked, “Why doesn’t anyone ever talk about them?”

“I can only assume… political differences,” he huffed.

“What do you mean?”

“Not my place,” he muttered. “I’m sure Professor Wright would be happy to share his thoughts on the matter.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” she groaned. “Why can’t anyone just tell me?”

He glanced at the closed classroom door, then lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “It’s dangerous to speak freely these days.”

Studying his grizzled face, a chill ran up her spine.

He was serious.

“About what?” Tenley whispered back.

There was a heavy pause as her teacher stood and hobbled over to the window.

Gruffly, he said, “There is a movement… people who believe wizards should no longer live in the shadows. Who believe magic should be used to better our world rather than be restrained… But you will not hear about that in the Prophet or in your carefully crafted lesson plans! No, you will not hear anything that threatens the status quo.”

“But why-?”

“Power,” he snapped. “Those that have it, cling to it. And those that undermine it are vilified and silenced.”

“So, you’re saying… we’re being lied to?”

“You are being fed exactly what they want you to think and nothing more,” he grimaced. “People eat it up, because it is easier that way. Far easier than sitting with uncomfortable truths.”

Wide-eyed, Tenley tried to digest what he was saying. Under her breath, the words escaped her lips, “We hide so we’re not hunted…”

With a flick of his wrist, the classroom door flung open and his arm extended out to invite her to leave. As she stepped out of the room, he grumbled, “If you tell anyone about this conversation, I will deny it.”

“Yes, Professor.”

And with that, the door slammed shut behind her.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Tenley found herself beneath bright white flames, surrounded by stacks of old books and newspaper clippings. Talking with Professor Moody had only fortified her need to understand. If her grandparents were a part of this underground movement, she wanted to know every detail about it. Rather than skimming stories, Tenley began to dive deep into all the content that the Archive had to offer.

She was most drawn to The Torch, an old publication which displayed a snake wrapped around a burning scepter of fire. At the top of every page, its tagline read: LET TRUTH BE YOUR GUIDING LIGHT

Bold headlines beaconed her forward. Stories like “Muggles Threaten Nuclear War” or “Sirius Black: Terrorist or Freedom Fighter?” grabbed her attention and gripped her until the very end. With every new piece of information that she consumed, she felt wool falling from her eyes, as if emerging from a long mind-numbing sleep.

Finally, she was uncovering the Truth that she had longed for.

Truth that had been willfully kept from her and the entire wizarding world. Truth that was so taboo that even her own Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was afraid to speak of it. Now, it was becoming clear: Muggles were the common denominator in every problem – war, poverty, pollution, hunger, disease - and due to the Statute of Secrecy, wizards could only sit back and watch them wreak havoc on the Earth.

Tenley continued her research well into the night and early the next morning.

That is, until it was time to meet up with Cedric.

Once the clock struck ten, she bolted from the common room and practically ran to the clubhouse corridor.

There he was.

Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, he stood at the end of the hall, talking to the Woman in White. Tenley paused to take a breath, then moved forward with measured steps to disguise her sudden nerves. As her boots clipped across the dungeon floor, she watched Cedric turn his head. His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

Her skin buzzed as she reached his side.

“Hi,” she said simply.

He grinned back at her.

The portrait swung open, and they stepped through the opening. Before the door had closed, they were in each other’s arms.

“I missed you,” he murmured.

Tenley pulled herself back. Gazing up at him, she placed a hand along his jawline, then gave his lips a gentle kiss.

Over the next few days, they spent hours tucked away in the privacy of the clubhouse. Finally, they could enjoy each other’s company without the looming dread of schoolwork or the Triwizard Tournament. This gave them plenty of precious time to get to know each other. Tenley detailed the mountain trails and ski slopes around Bozeman. She talked about the little shops along Main Street, including her mom’s bike shop and the basement of Big Sky Artisan Rugs where she learned magic.

In return, Cedric told her what it was like growing up on a dairy farm in the hills of Ottery Saint Catchpole. Although his dad worked for the ministry to control magical creatures, at home, him and his parents were surrounded by numerous cows, chickens, and sheep. He was especially fond of Muffin, their trusty Saint Bernard. His summers were spent helping his mom take care of the animals, which were a handful, but he didn’t mind.

Amidst these stories, they also discussed other crucial elements, like favorite foods and most embarrassing moments and secret fears.

“Bats,” Tenley answered definitively.

Cedric gave her a skeptical look.

“What? They’re gross!”

“C’mon,” he prodded. “Give me a real one.”

“Okay… um…” she wracked her brain, then hesitantly, she said, “I guess… magic used to scare me.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“Before I learned how to control it,” she explained. “Not knowing when it might happen or what I might do next…”

“Like what?”

“Like… there was this fire.”

Before she knew it, her face grew hot and tears had sprung into her eyes. Trying to swallow them back, she stammered over her words, “They looked at me like I was a monster, but I didn’t mean to do it… it just happened.”

Concern lining his face, he held her tight and whispered, “Hey… it’s alright…”

“I’m fine,” she whimpered, then with more vigor, she cleared her throat and tried again, “What about you? What is Cedric Diggory afraid of?”

“Being trapped,” he replied with a shrug. “I somehow managed to lock myself in a cupboard when I was a kid. Took them ages to find me.”

“Well, let’s hope the next task doesn’t involve a cupboard,” she smiled up at him.

He gave a laugh, then threaded his fingers through hers.

In the sanctuary of the clubhouse, all stress and fear seemed to melt away.

However, in the Archive, she was fueled by it.

Whenever she wasn’t sneaking off to see Cedric, she could be found pouring over texts that raised the hair on the back of her neck. One after the other, The Torch lit a fire in her stomach that spurred her onto the next.

Moody was right about the movement.

There seemed to be a select group of people who had the courage to stand up against the establishment and it’s approved doctrine. Among them were her grandparents. A few days into her research, Tenley came across their names in an article dated back to 1968.

SHACKLEBOLTS HOST ANNUAL FUNDRAISER
by Gregoria Greengrass

Thames and Cynthia Shacklebolt were pleased to welcome over two hundred international guests into their Knightsbridge home on Saturday night to raise money on behalf of the Wizard Rights Organization (WRO). It was a dazzling night full of invigorating speeches by known supporters, including Abraxas Malfoy and Rachelle Macmillan. Attendees were treated to an erupting chocolate volcano and delightful samples of plum pudding.

All went off without a hitch, aside from one minor interruption during Cynthia’s toast when a guest shouted “Lord Voldemort”, which garnered a mix of cheers and jeers from the crowd. When the hosts were pressed to comment on the controversial wizard’s recent rise in popularity, Thames replied, “We appreciate any and all support for the Anti-Statute movement, however, my wife and I do not condone Voldemort’s involvement in dark magic.”

Clearly, the reception of Lord Voldemort continues to be a real sticking point for the WRO. One member, preferring to stay nameless, said “To make change, we need someone like him. Playing nice has gotten us nowhere.” Only time will tell how the organization will handle these differences of opinion.

Tenley set down the paper, and stared off into the distance.

She’d heard horrible things about Voldemort. He caused the Wizarding War, killing many, and yet… he apparently supported the same movement as her grandparents.

It was a relief to know that Thames and Cynthia didn’t like him, but others did.

How could people support someone so evil?

This question nagged at her and propelled her forward.

“You seem distracted,” Cedric said one night.

It was Christmas Eve, and they were holed up again in the clubhouse as usual.

Tenley sat up from their horizontal position on the couch, and turned to look at him. “Do you ever think about… why we hide?”

“What do you mean? You’ve said yourself, it’s easier this way.”

“No, no,” she said. “Not us. I mean, the wizarding world.”

With a cautious laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck, “You mean the Statute of Secrecy? No, I haven’t given it much thought.”

She frowned.

It had pressed upon her mind the past few days. The unfairness. The injustice.

“Think about it,” she urged. “There’s a whole wide world out there, and wizards only get a piece of it. A handful of secret villages and castles…”

His brow furrowed, “Do we need more than that?”

“The point is,” she sighed, “why should we let muggles run everything? They certainly have done a piss poor job.”

Eyes surveying her, Cedric spoke slowly, “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I just keep thinking about how magic could fix things,” she hurriedly explained. “Is it right to withhold our power? I mean, if wizards were in charge, think of how we could improve people’s lives!”

“I don’t know, Tenley…” he said with concern. “There’s a reason we have the Statute. It protects us just as much as it protects them.”

Disappointed, Tenley shook her head.

She’d read about this counter-argument. It was a common defense that wizards used when they had nothing better to say.

“Never mind,” she said through thin lips. “Forget it.”

“It’s important to you, I can tell,” he replied, then covered her hand with his. “But it’s Christmas! Let’s talk politics another night.”

Politics, she thought.

This was way bigger than politics. Still, she gave a polite smile and nod.

Cedric reached for his school bag on the floor. “I have something for you.”

“A present?” she perked up.

With a grin, he said, “Something small… but I hope you like it.”

He retrieved a square box wrapped in silver paper and a green bow, then handed it to her. She quickly discarded the paper to reveal a cardboard box.

“Careful,” he warned. “It bites.”

Wide-eyed, she gingerly opened the lid and pulled out a miniature figurine of a shiny blue dragon. Lifelike, it flapped it’s wings.

“It’s the Swedish Short-Snout,” he offered. “A keepsake from the first task.”

Sitting in her palm, the little dragon appeared to yawn as it tried to emit fire.

Placing his arm around her shoulders, Cedric said, “I want you to have it.”

Tenley laughed, “Why, thank you!”

“But,” he continued, “I know it’s a bit of an eye-sore and may raise a few questions, so I’ve been practicing… hold out your hand please.”

Waving his wand at the tiny creature, she watched as he muttered something under his breath.

In an instant, the dragon grew thin and tall, and before she knew it, it had transformed into a small terracotta pot with a single flower poking out of the dirt.

A blue rose.

It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Its petals shimmered like dragon scales under the glow of the torchlight.

The sight of it left her speechless.

Then, closing her eyes, she finally managed to choke out, “It’s… perfect.”

She felt the warmth of his hand caress the side of her cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Tenley.”

Meeting his gaze, she admitted, “I don’t have anything for you.”

“No need,” he shrugged. Then, a gleam appeared in his eye. “Unless…”

Suspicious, her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You could let me take you flying.”

“On a broom?” she snorted. “Fat chance.”

Cedric continued to smile at her expectantly.

“I’ll think about it,” she said with a playful shove. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

His body grew tense. “I don’t know if we’ll have time… with the ball and all.”

Tenley groaned.

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered.

“Hey, at least you don’t have to dance in front of the entire school,” he jested.

“True,” she conceded, then leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. “Try not to have too much fun.”

“I promise to be miserable,” he murmured back.

She pulled back and sighed, “No… I don’t mean it. You should enjoy yourself… we both should.”

“Then, let’s make a deal,” he affirmed. “We’ll make the most of it, then meet back here to trade stories in the morning.”

Surveying the optimism across his face, her lips reluctantly lifted into a smile.

“Deal.”

When Tenley crawled into bed that night, she couldn’t help but gaze over at her windowsill. Magic moonlight slipped through the cracks in her curtains, just enough to see the glint of her new rose.

Tenley grinned and kicked her feet. Of all the things she’d come to like about Hogwarts, Cedric was the best of them all.

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of gleeful shrieks and ripping paper.

Hazel’s head dipped into her cove.

“Yuh’ve gottuh see this.”

Rubbing her eyes, Tenley stumbled out of bed and followed her down the hall. Camilla was sitting cross-legged on her floor, surrounded by an array of brightly colored presents – at least two dozen - and a layer of discarded wrapping paper. Picking up random packages, she rambled on, “This one’s from Uncle Jesper, and then, of course, there’s Hyacinth. Aww... and our next-door neighbor… she really shouldn’t have.”

Standing at the door in their oversized night shirts, Tenley and Hazel watched on with amusement.

“Help yourself to some licorice wands!” Camilla exclaimed, pointing to an opened box. “My brother knows they’re my favorite. Oh, and Happy Christmas!”

She launched herself off the ground and flung her arms around them both.

“Happy Christmas,” they mumbled into her shoulder.

“It’s so strange not to be at home this year,” she said, releasing them. “But exciting nonetheless! What’d you get?”

Hazel’s cheeks grew as red as the sunburn from the day they first met. She looked down at the floor, “Mostly socks, and well… dad’s always sendin’ me his latest inventions. This time he’s workin’ on hands-free floss – yuh know, for your teeth – so we’ll see what that’s all abou’.”

“Let me look,” Tenley said.

Back at her cove, she found no presents at the foot of her bed, instead there was a red envelope on her trunk addressed with her name. She opened it up, and read the familiar scribble from a ballpoint pen:

Merry Christmas, T-Leaf!
Join us for breakfast in my office. Love, Dad.

Throwing on a sweatshirt, she got ready for the day and promised to meet up with her friends later to get ready for the ball.

When she arrived at her dad’s office, she heard the swell of violins seeping through the cracks in the door. Nat King Cole’s croon became clearer as she slowly opened the door to find twinkling lights strewn from the ceiling and hand-cut paper snowflakes taped to the walls. There was a pile of wrapped presents beneath a spruce tree in the corner, and notably next to it, a table with plates towered high with waffles.

Instead of a desk, her dad was sitting on a sofa with his arm around an old woman that, on second glance, happened to be her mother. Tenley still hadn’t gotten used to the grey hair and chunky glasses that obscured half her face. However, as if grasping at any semblance of normal, her mom had forgone her formal wizard robes in favor of a simple sweater and jeans.

“Hi, my love,” Reyna whispered as she stood and gave Tenley a firm hug.

She felt her mom wince and pull back.

Tenley eyed her curiously, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” she quickly waved away. “My arm’s been bothering me lately… that’s all. Now tell me you’ve been staying out of trouble-”

“Mom!” Fitz burst through the door and threw himself at Reyna.

She cupped his freckled face in her hands, “How are you? Are you eating enough? Are you making friends?”

Fitz rolled his eyes, “I’m fine.”

She kissed the top of his blonde-tipped head then released him. “Help yourself to some breakfast. I made sure there was both blueberry and chocolate-chip.”

Not needing to be told twice, they each piled their plates with the assortment of waffles, fresh fruit, syrup, and whipped cream.

It felt strange.

Here they were huddled together in a magic castle thousands of miles from the home where their annual Christmas tradition had begun.

Tenley picked at her plate. It didn’t taste the same.

“How’s work?” Fitz said with a mouth full of waffle. “I can’t believe you brought dragons to our school.”

“That was actually one of the least offensive ideas,” Reyna pursed her lips. “Bagman keeps pushing for more entertainment, and it seems like I’m the only one around to reign him in.”

Fitz asked, “What’s up next?”

“You know I can’t-”

“The lake,” Tenley casually inserted.

Mouth agape, her mother stared at her.

“I saw some workers around it the other day,” she lied.

“Well, they shouldn’t have been,” Reyna said, lips thinned. “Dumbledore has been handling everything with the merpeople.”

Tenley raised an eyebrow. “Now they’ve got to fight a mermaid?”

Reyna sighed and shook her head. “I guess you’ll see.”

“Alright, who wants to open presents?” Gerry cut in, grabbing a gift from under the tree and squinting his eyes to read the tag. “Ten, this one is for you.”

She caught the gift and instantly recognized the shape and feel of a thick book. Ripping away the paper, she was confronted with a bold title that read, “The War on Muggles: An Abridged History.”

Her eyes shifted from her brother, then to her parents.

“I’ve read this one,” Gerry beamed. “Well-researched and not too dry. I thought it’d be right up your alley.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, setting it aside. She then reached over to grab another present. “Let’s see… here’s one from… Terrance!”

Tenley ripped open the card, then read aloud from their former tutor’s handwriting. “To The Wright Family… I can assure you that Bozeman has been less bright without you here. Please enjoy this collector’s edition box of chocolate frogs. Merry Christmas! Hopefully, we’ll see each other soon-”

She stopped and stared at a final sentence written below his signature.

P.S. Has Tenley played her cards right?

Turning the paper over, she looked for additional text, but found nothing.

Surely, he was referencing the deck of cards he had gifted her, but what did he mean about playing them right?

“That was very kind of him,” Reyna acknowledged, then pointed to a present in the corner. “I think I see one for you, Fitz.”

They all watched as he took hold of the box and tore it open. Staring at the contents within, her brother said, “Dress shoes?”.

“Yes, well, I thought you’d need them for the ball tonight,” their mom explained. “Are you excited?

He gave a noncommittal shrug, then returned to his plate of food. Pointing a fork at his parents, he asked, “Are you two going?”

“Oh, no,” Reyna waved away. “I don’t think-”

Gerry grinned, “Why not?”

Side-eyeing her husband, she sighed, “Think of the exposure…”

With a gleam in his eye, he reached into the small breast pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew his lucky coin, “What if I guarantee we’ll have a good night?”

Reyna shook her head with a smile, knowing already what the answer would be.

With a flick of his thumb, the coin spun in the air. When it landed back in his palm, he flipped it onto the back of his hand, then peeked at the result.

“The coin has spoken!” her dad exclaimed. “We’re going!”

“It’s a wonder why I ever gave you that that thing in the first place,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Tenley had no reaction, instead, she stared at the coin as if really seeing it for the first time. With a prickle of excitement, she turned to her mother, “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh… well… it’s been in the family for a long time.”

Tenley’s lips lifted into a wide grin. An heirloom wouldn’t be hard to come by, after all.

“Can I borrow it? There’s this-”

“No,” her mom cut her off. “We wouldn’t want it to get lost.”

Eyes narrowed, Tenley said, “I’ll be careful with it ”

“I normally would, Ten,” her dad explained. “But you know how special this is to me. I wouldn’t want to be caught without it.”

“Is it really that hard to trust me?” Tenley accused.

Fitz grumbled, “Here we go.”

Her body began to quake as the pent-up fury of the past week pressurized.

“Do I not deserve to know anything about my own history? About my own grandparents?”

Reyna’s face darkened.

“Not today,” she warned.

“Then when!? How can you hate them so much?”

Reyna closed her eyes and took a breath.

Gerry took hold of his wife’s hand. “That’s enough, Tenley.”

“I could never hate them,” Reyna whispered into her lap.

There was tense silence as Tenley looked between the pallid faces of her dad and brother. She stood, and set down her plate of food, “I don’t need this right now. And I don’t need your propaganda!” she said while kicking aside the history book. As she walked out, she yelled “Merry Christmas!” before slamming the door.

Fuming, Tenley headed back to the dungeons. It was beyond frustrating to be in the presence of people who refused to take her seriously. She was tired of the dodged questions and half-truths. Then, there was the book. The War on Muggles. What a joke. As if one textbook could make her forget everything she had learned from the Archive.

When she reached the entrance to the common room, she ran into Odin.

“Oh hey, I was just-” he stopped himself. “You look upset.”

“Excellent observation,” she muttered, moving past him.

“Fancy a walk?” he offered. “I’m headed to the Owlery.”

She hesitated, then nodded her head in agreement.

Quietly, they made their way up the many sets of stairs to the tower where all of the owls were housed. Tenley was relieved that he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. When they arrived, they walked out onto the tower balcony which looked out onto the entire grounds. From above, she saw the greenhouses and the massive lake where the next task would be held. Then, the fluffy mask-like face of a barn owl swooped down.

“Meet Keeva,” he said, offering a finger out for the bird to nibble at. “Been in my family for as long as I can remember.”

“Is that who you’re writing to?”

Odin nodded. “Thanking mum for my new hat…. and comb.”

“Not a fan of your hair, I take it?” Tenley snickered.

“Subtle, I know,” he said dryly. “What’s got you so riled up?

“Oh, the usual mix of secrecy and misinformation.”

He cocked his spikey head to the side, so she continued, “I can’t tell if my parents are ignorant or if they truly don’t care about the threat we’re under.”

“And you decided to have this out on Christmas?”

“What? I’m supposed to pretend like everything’s normal?” she challenged. “They’re the ones who can’t provide a straight answer to anything. It’s maddening!”

Odin shrugged, “You can’t choose your family.”

Tenley surveyed his heavy-lidded eyes. After a breath, she turned her attention onto him. “Do you usually go home for the holidays?”

He nodded as he attached an envelope to the owl’s leg. “My parents weren’t exactly pleased about them hosting a ball on Christmas… but they think it’s a good opportunity for me to ‘mingle’.”

Tenley snorted, “You’re not much of a mingler.”

“Well, it happens to be a family requirement,” he muttered.

“Now that you mention it – I don’t know what your parents do.”

“They’re innkeepers.”

She side-eyed him. “The way you talk about them… you’d think they were royalty.”

“That’s all Mum,” he sighed. “She’s determined to make something of the Sideris name. Says we’re one step away from greatness.”

“Meaning?”

“Money,” he shrugged. “She loves to talk about the house we’ll have and the parties we’ll go to… but also, notoriety. It’s no secret that she wants our lives to be important.”

Tenley raised an eyebrow at him. “By doing what?”

His tired eyes met hers, then he smirked, “I guess I’ve got to do something notable.”

“No pressure,” she smiled back, then her lips twisted to the side. “At least she sounds consistent… I don’t get mine at all.”

“You know what they say,” Odin said, looking out over the grounds. “Blood is thicker than water. At the end of the day, they’re all we got.”

Tenley grimaced, “Easy for you to say when your parents aren’t lying to you… or pushing pro-Statute rhetoric.”

He thought for a moment, then replied, “Is it more important to be right?”

“What?”

“Listen – my sister won’t talk to my parents anymore,” Odin admitted. “She left the house and hasn’t looked back. So, if you ask me if I’d rather be right or have her around…”

Tenley nodded solemnly as a pang of guilt hit her gut.

“I’ll talk to them,” she mumbled, then quickly declared, “But I’m not apologizing.”

With a smirk, Odin turned toward the door, “I’d expect nothing else.”

* * *

Back in the quiet confines of her own cove, Tenley admired her reflection.

Her curves were draped in gold satin that cascaded to her feet like molten honey. Thin spaghetti straps held up the cowl neckline as the smooth fabric clung to her waist, then continued onto a tasteful side slit at the base of her thigh. Her microbraids were woven atop her head in an intricate bun, bejeweled with little golden cuffs throughout. The silver string that typically accented her front braid had been discarded, and now hung from the corner of her mirror.

“It’s time!” Camilla announced, pulling back the curtain. She giddily bounced up next to Tenley, glittering in a strapless black dress that complimented her crimped hair. Close behind, Hazel entered in a billowy moss green number with a crown of holly adorning her sandy-blonde head.

Observing all three silhouettes with a wide grin, Camilla said, “I did good.”

After a giggle of agreement, Hazel said, “Shall we?”

The girls made their way up to the common room where Odin and Cass waited for them by the fireplace. Odin was fiddling with the sleeve of his frayed grey dress robes that were clearly an inch too short for him.

“No one’ll notice, mate,” Cass assured, looking dapper in his burgundy robes.

“Notice what?” Camilla asked as they approached.

Cass jolted upward, flashing his teeth at them. “Well, don’t you lot clean up nice.”

“Why, thank you,” she replied with a twirl. Then, Camilla reached up to mess with the gelled spikes atop Odin’s head until she said, “It’ll do.”

With a roll of his eyes, he ushered them forward and they followed the sea of students toward the Great Hall.

As they neared the entrance, there was a handful of people stationed at the door to welcome them in. The champions, and their partners.

First, they walked past Viktor Krum, standing close to a young girl in a blue dress. Next, there was Harry Potter, slouched next to a girl dressed in vibrant pink. To her surprise, Tenley passed by Roger Davies, sidled up next to Fleur Delacour. His robes were embroidered with an elaborate floral pattern that twinkled under the torchlight.

Then, there was Cho.

Her silky black hair was tied into a sleek bun and her small frame was stitched into silver lace that reflected the light in Cedric’s eyes. He stood tall behind her in classic black dress robes, smiling down at Cho as if they were sharing in some private joke.

Tenley told herself to look away, but she couldn’t.

She wanted the warmth of his gaze.

Look up, her thoughts begged, but she walked past them without Cedric taking his eyes off of Cho.

The Great Hall looked nothing like they were used to.

Underneath a starry night sky, it had transformed into a winter wonderland of snow-covered trees with thick garlands of ivy and icicles that hung from the rafters. The floor made it appear like they were skating upon frosted glass, and the four long house tables had been replaced with dozens of small round lantern-lit ones.

Tenley followed her friends toward a table near the back.

Camilla was now arm-in-arm with their Durmstrang friend, Miko, who was clad in handsome fur-lined robes. She leaned forward and eagerly whispered, “Can you believe our luck?”

“What?” Odin asked, but Tenley already understood.

“How do you think Potter feels?” Tenley replied slyly, allowing herself a brief moment of victory.

“The girl he fancies going with the real Hogwarts champion? I mean, c’mon,” Camilla laughed. “We couldn’t have planned it better!”

Hazel chimed in. “Didn’ they date las’ year?”

Tenley’s body went rigid. Her eyes darted around the table as they each took a seat, “Who?”

“Cedric and Cho.”

“I remember hearing that,” Cass confirmed. “Makes sense. Both seekers and all-”

The rest of his words were drowned out by an elegant stringed processional that accompanied the champions and their dance partners into the room.

Nausea swam to the surface of Tenley’s mind.

It couldn’t be true. He would’ve told her.

Tenley’s eyes locked onto the happy couple. Time slowed as she watched them glide across the floor together – glaringly perfect, like a stock photo in a frame. Then, subtly, she saw Cho stroke his arm.

It felt like someone had grabbed ahold of her insides and twisted.

How could she have not seen this before?

“You alright?” Hazel muttered in her ear.

With a quick shake of her head, Tenley said, “Of course.”

Her friend gave her an unconvinced shrug, then turned her attention to her menu. Across the hall, people took turns saying their preferred entree aloud, and each dish magically appeared on their plates within seconds.

Talk continued around her as Tenley picked at her roasted carrots.

Nothing made sense.

Her mind flitted through conversations with him. There was no indication that they had dated, right? He had only said asking Cho to the ball was a bad idea…

When the meal finished, the tables were cleared and pushed back along the wall to make room for a dance floor. Then, a stage full of rock instruments was erected off to the side. Amid a loud wave of cheers and applause, several wizards with ratty hair and torn robes stepped up and began playing a somber tune.

A spotlight illuminated the middle of the room, and gradually, the four champions strolled in with their dance partners while attendees formed a circle around them.

Hand-in-hand, Cedric led his ex-girlfriend to the center.

Standing among the crowd, Tenley’s vision began to swirl and melt around them in frigid shades of blue until only the two of them remained in clear view. A high-pitched ringing entered her ears and grew louder as Cedric lowered his hand and rested it on Cho’s silver-laced waist.

Then, they began.

Sweeping across the floor, the two of them stepped together in perfect synchrony. With each turn, she caught glimpses of their faces.

His reassuring smile.

Cho’s bright eyes.

They were a priceless painting that Tenley wanted to set ablaze.

“Tenny. C’mon!”

The room catapulted back into focus.

Dozens of couples had joined the dance floor, but Hazel was pulling her in the opposite direction until they reached an inconspicuous corner behind a frosted fir tree. They found Cass and Odin huddled together, snickering with each other. As they approached, Cass scrambled to shove a silver flask back into his coat pocket, then relaxed at the sight of them.

“There you are!” Cass said with a flash of white teeth. “Care for a bit of Ogden?”

Hazel eyed them with a sly smile, “Risky, innit?”

“All the teachers are dancing,” Odin answered with a shrug. “Live a little.”

Without another word, Tenley swiped the flask from Cass, arched her head back, and took a long pull of firewhiskey. Eyes pooling with tears, the liquor seared the back of her throat as she urged it to carry away the ache in her chest.

Her friends stared at her.

“Save some for the rest of us, will yuh?” Odin teased after she finally took a breath.

“We’ve still got a couple more bottles,” Cass replied. He tapped the thin silver container with his wand, and Tenley felt it refill right before she handed off the flask.

After a small sip, Hazel asked, “What’s the plan?”

“A few more swigs and I think we’ll be ready to join Camy.” Cass grinned, “But first, it’s time for Truth or Drink. I’ll start… Haze, who would you want to be your date tonight? Besides me, of course.”

Hazel eyed the flask in her hand, then held it out for Odin.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’,” she said. “Lucian.”

“Bole?” Cass snorted. “Not that wanker.”

“If you’re gonna be a tosser abou’ it, yuh shouldn’ of asked!” Hazel shot back. Then, she turned her attention to Odin. “Let’s see… Oh, I know - why’d yuh attack Graham Appleby?”

With tired eyes, he lifted the flask high. After taking a heavy draw, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then tossed it to Tenley.

“You’re quiet,” Odin observed, looking her up and down. “I saw your dad here… Is that your mum with him?”

Tenley smirked, “Is that your question?”

He shook his spikey head.

“Not quite,” he replied. “I’d rather know who you’ve been sneaking off with.”

Calmly, she said, “No one.”

“Bullocks!” Hazel called. “Drink!”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I want the whiskey,” she said coolly before taking another long sip.

They each took turns asking intrusive questions and passing around the liquid campfire until a wave of lightheadedness had washed over them.

“I bloody love this song,” Cass called over a heavy bass. He tipped the last drop of whiskey into his mouth, then grabbed Hazel’s hand.

Odin and Tenley followed them out of their hiding place and into the crowd of people, now jumping up and down to the fast-paced rock song. They navigated through the flailing bodies until they stumbled upon Camilla, wearing a huge smile on her face.

“Where’ve you been!?”

Her words were lost to the music as they all threw their hands in the air and fully committed to the chaos. She felt the electric guitar vibrate through her core. For a moment, all thoughts slipped away, and there was only the rush of the rhythm as they mindlessly moved together. A voice carried over the pulsing drumbeat.

“You look incredible.”

Tenley expectantly opened her eyes, but only saw red-faced Roger Davies, bobbing his head.

She pursed her lips and nodded to his embroidered outfit, “Nice suit.”

“I thought you’d like it!” he shouted back, then held up his sleeve. “It’s VitaWear.”

Sure enough, Tenley saw that the floral stitching along his robes were made of silvery green thread that seemed to move with the music. Vitanima root. As her eyes tried to focus, the pattern made her dizzy.

“Impressive,” she mumbled, then quickly added, “I need some air.”

Before he could respond, she navigated through the sweaty crowd and out into the entrance hall. The main doors were open wide and fairy lights guided her out onto winding garden paths. She prepared for the chilling bite of winter wind, but it never came. Tenley comfortably strolled the outdoor stone pathways that were dotted with people standing in groups and chatting on benches.

A solitary bush of white roses caught her eye.

She walked over and gently touched it’s fragile petals.

Her liquor-filled thoughts drifted to the potted blue rose on her windowsill. She saw Cedric’s warm smile when he gave it to her only the night before, but then, images of him and Cho flooded to the forefront of her mind.

Her stroking his arm. His hand on her waist.

Tenley’s fingers closed around the dainty flower, slowly suffocating it until she felt the soft crush of it’s petals.

“Tenley.”

Dropping the rose, she spun around until her mother swam into view. Despite the grey hair and glasses, Reyna was stunning in a long-sleeved black velvet gown.

“Mom,” she replied.

“I don’t want to disrupt your night, but I also can’t leave knowing–” Reyna stopped herself, and scanned her daughter up and down. “Have you been drinking?”

Before Tenley could open her mouth, her mom pinched the bridge of her nose, then added, “Don’t answer that… I’m not here to fight.”

“Listen, Ten,” she continued, “I know you are angry with me, and I know you want answers-”

“Reyna?” a deep voice interrupted.

Her mom’s body stiffened as the tall, thin frame of the Durmstrang headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, strode up to them. He repeated, “Reyna Shacklebolt? Is that you?”

Professor Snape appeared next to him, and curtly explained, “You must be mistaken, Igor. This is Rebecca Wright. She replaced Bertha Jorkins in the Games department and has been helping us with the tournament.”

“My apologies, madam,” Karkaroff bowed to her, then whispered to Snape. “You have to admit, it’s uncanny! Was she ever found?”

As they watched the two men continue on down the path, Tenley grumbled under her breath, “Should I even bother asking?”

Reyna took hold of her daughter’s hands. In a hushed tone, she said, “My love, we live in a dangerous time… and I will do everything in my power to shield you from it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tenley slightly slurred, and wobbled in her heels. “I’ve heard that one before. Anything new you’d like to share?”

Her mom’s hand cupped the side of Tenley’s face and their copper eyes connected.

“There is nothing you can do to make me love you any less,” she said and kissed her daughter’s cheek. Then, Reyna whispered in her ear, “Have fun. Drink lots of water.”

Her mother turned away and walked back toward the castle steps where Gerry was waiting to meet her. Dressed in his usual navy sport coat, her dad smiled and waved to Tenley.

It was all too much to process at that moment.

Tenley took a step forward, but the ground rattled under her feet and her head began to feel heavy. She sat down on a bench, then rested her back against a large stone statue….

Snape’s words echoed in her ears. Rebecca.

Assuming that Karkaroff recognized her mom from her Durmstang days, why would she hide her identity from him?

In the distance, she heard a familiar voice call, “She’s over here!”

Before she knew it, Camilla was at her side.

“Hey,” she soothed, putting an arm around Tenley. “Hey, you alright? We were worried when you didn’t come back.”

Tenley’s eyes fluttered open, and she saw her friends surrounding her: Odin, Cass, Hazel, Camilla, and even Miko.

Suddenly, tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks.

“Well, she’s sloshed,” Cass said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hazel narrowed her eyes at him, “An’ who’s faul’ is that? Ge’ her up!”

“I’m fine,” Tenley groaned as they got her to her feet.

With Cass’ arm around her waist, she clung to his neck as they made it up the front steps. When they reached the entrance hall, her eyes cracked open at the sound of Cedric’s alarmed voice.

“What’s wrong? Is she alright?”

Tenley did her best to lift her head and focus on Cedric as he strode in front of the group.

“We’ve got it,” Odin said gruffly. “She just needs some water.”

For the first time that night, Cedric met Tenley’s gaze. She watched the storm clouds roll into his grey eyes as they flitted between frustration and concern.

He wanted an explanation.

He wanted it to be his arms wrapped around her waist.

Good, she groggily thought, It’s his turn.

“What can I do?” Cedric directed the question only to her.

Tenley hesitated. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but it would all have to wait until morning.

She dismissed him with a shake of her head.

He dropped his gaze, then begrudgingly, Cedric stepped aside.

“Always the hero,” Cass grumbled as they carried Tenley to an empty table nearby. “Never can mind his bloody business.”

Once settled, Tenley sipped her glass of water while observing the rest of the hall. On the dance floor, she spotted Fitz with a wispy blonde girl who wore a strange dress with littles baubles hanging throughout. Intensely staring at his new shoes, he tried not to step on her toes.

Then, Summer Marks hotly strutted past them in a red chiffon dress that made her look like a stop sign.

“Lose something?” Odin called out to her.

“I’m looking for Graham,” she snapped back. “You haven’t done anything to him, have you?”

“I’m afraid he wasn’t on our agenda for this evening,” Camilla smirked.

Summer rolled her eyes and stomped away.

Odin jumped up from his chair. “Well, it’s time for me to retire. Goodnight, everyone.”

“Stay for one more dance, will yuh?” Hazel suggested.

He shook his head, “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

There was a collective groan around the table.

As for Tenley, she quite agreed.

Surfacing from a fitful sleep, Tenley felt satin sticking to her skin and bobby-pins digging into her scalp as she laid atop the covers of her bed. A sharp pain threatened to split open her skull, and with it, recent memories began to develop like photographs dipped into a chemical bath: friends, fairy lights, a flask… Cedric.

Staring into the darkness, she wondered which had hurt her more: him or the whiskey?

Tenley gingerly lifted herself into a sitting position, and hugged her knees.

How could she be so naive?

Of course, Cedric was interested in Cho Chang. Who wouldn’t be?

And now, Tenley had given them the perfect opportunity to remember why they should be together: No sneaking around. No secrets. There was no way she could compete with that… but above all, why hadn’t he told her?

Without last night’s anesthetic, this question burrowed deep under her skin, setting her nerves aflame with a restless fury. Tenley welcomed the feeling. It overpowered her insecurities, and drove out the weak and wounded animal she’d been hours before.

Even still, as she pulled herself out of bed to get ready for the day, Tenley clung to the hope that it was all a big misunderstanding. She wanted Cedric to deny it, and she desperately wanted to believe him.

Everything hinged on their next meeting.

However, when she finally arrived at the clubhouse entrance that same morning, the portrait wouldn’t open for her.

“It’s occupied.”

Tenley stared at the painted woman sitting on her swing.

“What do you mean it’s occupied?” she stuttered. “Who’s in there?”

“I’m not to let anyone else in.”

“Under who’s authority?” Tenley challenged.

The Woman in White remained expressionless.

Tenley wracked her brain for somewhere else that they could go. She thought about the prefect’s bathroom, but it seemed too risky to go there during the day. They needed somewhere secluded… a place no one could stumble on them…

“Tell him to meet me behind the greenhouse in fifteen minutes.”

The woman nodded in agreement, and Tenley returned to her dorm to quickly gather her winter clothes.

Bundled in a sweater, jeans, and thick cloak, she found her way out of the castle. It had been snowing the past few days, so the grounds were covered in a fresh layer of white powder that reminded Tenley of home. Her boots cut through the snow as she shuffled toward the greenhouse. Rounding the corner, she found Cedric standing with his hand in his coat pockets.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, she saw worry and a hint of exhaustion as he extended his arms out to her and sighed, “There you are.”

Icily, she walked past him and headed straight toward the tree line.

He hesitated, then called out, “In there?”

“It’s not as dangerous as they make it sound.”

“Still against the rules,” he countered.

Tenley stopped walking, then slowly turned to face him with an eyebrow raised, “And you always do what you’re told, do you?”

Cedric gave her a long look, then ultimately followed her through the brush.

The snow crunched beneath their feet as Tenley led him further into the forbidden forest. It’d been a couple months since she’d tracked Blaise’s cat through these woods, and she did her best to mimic the same route through the newly frosted terrain.

“Tenley… is there something-”

“Not here,” she interrupted.

They continued on in silence until the trees began to thin minutes later. Tenley squinted her eyes, unsure of what she was seeing up ahead.

There, in the center of the clearing, stood the singular aspen tree, it’s branches now spindly and bare. However, as if protected by an invisible force field, the surrounding forest floor was untouched by snow. Instead, there was a clear fifty-foot radius of wheat-like grass, and Tenley began to circle the outside perimeter.

“What kind of magic is this?” she mumbled under her breath.

Bracing herself, she dipped a toe across the wintery threshold onto the dry ground.

Nothing happened.

She shook away the rest of her reservations and strode across the dead grass.

Cedric’s voice cut through the cold, “Is this your crime scene?”

Tenley nodded as her fingers grazed the black marks etched into the papery white bark. They were the same numbers stitched onto the handkerchief found within the time capsule.

10:1

She was sure of it.

She felt his presence behind her. “Any new theories?”

“How about a crime of passion…” Tenley muttered as she slowly stepped around the tree to distance herself from him. Coolly, she changed the subject, “Did you have a good night?”

Peering up, she caught the skeptical look in his eye.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “That was the plan, right? To make the most of it?”

“Tenley,” he said, trying to level with her. “What’s really on your mind?”

“I mean, how could you not?” she shot back. “All you needed was a pretty little Ravenclaw who knows how to ride a broom.”

His grey eyes bored into her.

She watched him carefully choose his next words until, finally, with a measured tone, he said, “Where’s this coming from? You asked me to invite Cho.”

“I didn’t know you two had history!”

“Then why…” he replied, brow furrowed. “Why’d you pick her of all people?”

Knowing full well that she couldn’t tell him the real reason, Tenley exclaimed, “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t to rekindle your romance!”

“It’s not like that. We agreed that we’re… better off friends.”

Tenley scoffed, “So that was your arrangement, huh? You asked her to go as friends?”

“I may not have used those exact words-”

Tenley threw her hands up in the air. “And you see nothing wrong with this picture?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for her hand. “You were so certain… I thought you knew.”

“So, what now?” she cried, ripping her hand from his grasp. “I sit back and watch you two ride off into the sunset?”

He shook his head at the ground, then called out, “I told her about us.”

Tenley froze.

“She sensed something was off,” he explained. “So, I said there was someone else and…. you were her first guess.”

Tenley tried to file away this new piece of information.

On one hand, she was relieved.

On the other, it was unsettling to think about Cho holding this secret over her head.

“How-?”

“Well, I admit, I acted a bit batty after seeing you practically catatonic… what happened last night?”

Still processing his words, she absentmindedly answered, “Too much firewhiskey.”

“Tenley,” he said sternly.

“What?” She snapped back to the present. “It was all in good fun.”

“You could barely stand up straight!” he argued. “Think of what could’ve happened? What they could’ve-”

“You mean, my friends? They took care of me!”

He clenched his jaw, “Nice of them after getting you smashed-”

“Don’t you dare turn this on them!” She challenged, pointing a finger at him. “I actually had a good time, no thanks to you.”

Exasperated, he said, “Me? I only tried to help!”

Avoiding his stare, Tenley’s whisper came out cold and biting, “The way you looked at her. The way you touched her… I can only imagine how confused she was when you told her about me.”

“Actually, she took it very well,” he replied. “Even offered to help us.”

Tenley’s eyes narrowed, “Meaning what? You pretend to date her?”

Treading carefully, he said, “It was an idea.”

“Oh please,” she sputtered, “That’s exactly what she wants!”

“I know Cho,” he assured. “We can trust her.”

“I’m sure you do,” Tenley muttered.

“Hey,” he said firmly. Stepping in front of her, his large leather-lined hands cupped her face. “It’s you that I want.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

Cedric continued, his voice low and urgent, “Last night was maddening… to see you... and that dress… It took everything in my power not to steal you away, and then, seeing you slumped over that guy’s shoulder – the things I wanted to do to him - for hurting you… for keeping you from me.”

Feeling his pent-up frustration, Tenley rested her forehead against his. Her anger began to soften into a simmer. For a moment, there was only the sound of their staggered breathing until, faintly, she said, “I wanted it to be you.”

Despite the frosty air, an electric current buzzed between them.

“Maybe it’s time to stop hiding,” he breathed back.

Tenley paused to consider this, then shook her head. Wearing a playful smile, she said, “You’ve got a tournament to win first.”

“Right,” he sighed, dropping his hands. “Our deal…”

As Cedric turned away from her, she called out, “Think about it – we’ll have the whole summer to visit each other, and then by next term, no one will care who you date.”

“Your friends will care,” he stated plainly. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

Under the weight of his stare, Tenley bit back a sour remark and settled on sincerity instead.

“I... I need more time.”

He placed his hands along her arms, “Can you tell me why?”

“You won’t get it,” she grumbled.

“Try me.”

Hesitantly, she scanned his face, then took a deep breath.

“People come easily to you,” she began. “You make friends with everyone you meet… Me? Every time I get close… I ruin it. Well, my magic would ruin it, and then Kingsley had to swoop in and erase me. So, yes, I know it’s wrong, but this is finally my chance to have real-.”

“Erase you?” he cut in, “Your uncle went around altering memories?”

“Statute of Secrecy,” Tenley grimaced.

“But he didn’t have to wipe out everything,” Cedric reasoned, “only the magic.”

“You’d think,” she said with a sad smile. “I made it twenty-eight months with Lauren…” Her body began to shake. “And then, one day… she didn’t even know my name.”

Outrage burned clear across his face, but he held his tongue. Instead, her head nestled into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around her.

Quietly, Tenley said, “I’m not going to ruin this one…”

In the silence that followed, he held her close to his chest. Under his breath, he finally said, “I’ll be ready when you are.”

She nodded.

As she quickly collected herself, she admitted, “Cho will be a good cover for us.”

Releasing her, Cedric gave her a skeptical look, “You’re sure.”

“I’m sure about you,” she mumbled. Then, staunchly, she said, “But I swear, Cedric, if you fall in love with her-”

“Tenley,” he asserted, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The intensity in his grey eyes sent shivers down her spine as he said, “Can I please kiss you now?”

Slowly, her lips lifted into a devious grin.

Tenley gripped the collar of his coat and fell back onto the brittle grass, pulling him down with her. Wisps of their breath floated around them as Cedric positioned himself on top of her and leaned down. She felt the cold of his nose press against hers, then the heat of his mouth, and in a moment, the entire forest seemed to melt away.

That is, except for a dull pain digging into the middle of her back.

When she shifted her body, he must’ve taken it as a sign to go lower. His lips moved to the base of her neck while his hands made their way underneath her cloak. Laying her head back, she tried to focus on his leather grip on her waist, but a different kind of pressure kept distracting her.

“One second,” she breathed. “I think I’m laying on something.”

He paused to look at her, then rolled onto his side.

Tenley sat up, and felt around the grass until she made contact with a mound of dirt that had something smooth, yet sharp, protruding from it. Cedric patiently watched as she got to her knees to inspect it further. It looked like an exposed edge of a coin lodged into the earth. She withdrew her wand, pointed it at the object, and mumbled a levitation spell.

As the dirt crumbled away, a small round piece of silver rose into the air. They both moved closer to get a better look at it.

Cedric spoke first, “A ring?”

Tenley nodded, keeping her eyes on the dirt-caked metal band hovering between them. It had a flat circular head with something engraved on its surface. She reached out, expecting to feel the cold silver on her palm, but instead, it was warm. Her fingers brushed away the remaining dirt to reveal the image of an intricate creature. Etched into the ring was the side-profile of a long-haired woman atop the body of a lion with outstretched wings.

“It’s a sphinx,” she said, sidling up next to him. He placed an arm around her as she held it out to him. “I wonder what it’s doing out here.”

“Could’ve belonged to Dorothy,” he offered, turning it over in his gloved hand.

Shaking her head, she said, “They would’ve found it by now.”

“Maybe other students have been sneaking around?”

Tenley shrugged. “That might explain the cleared snow...”

“Well,” he announced, placing the ring back in her palm. “Now, it’s yours. Something to remember the day by.”

Tenley took a long look before pocketing it.

“If that’s the case…” Head tilted back, her lips grazed his ear, “How about we make it more memorable?”

A silver gleam appeared in his eye.

Her pulse rose and her breath began to shorten as Tenley watched him slowly pull the leather gloves from his fingers.

Then, Cedric laid her back down.

* * *

“Tenny.”

She jolted back to the Slytherin table. All eyes were on her.

Everything in the Great Hall had transformed back into its proper state, and her friends were settled in their usual spots for dinner. However, Tenley’s mind kept flitting back to the forest.

“Feelin’ any bettuh?” Hazel repeated.

She nodded quickly, “Just needed to sleep it off.”

“Impressive, really,” Cass commented. “For your first time, and all.”

Tenley nearly choked on her pumpkin juice.

“Hard to believe you’d never been drunk before,” Odin cut in. “It was only slightly embarrassing.”

Hazel slapped his shoulder, then turned to Tenley. “The importan’ thing is that you’re aligh’.”

“Thanks for the help,” she said sheepishly, looking down at her plate. “It’s all still a bit fuzzy.”

“Well, you must at least remember Diggory,” Cass sputtered. “I thought he was gonna take a shot at me! Can you believe it? After all we’ve done with those bloody buttons…”

“What do yuh expec’?” Hazel said. “He’s a prefect.”

“Besides,” Camilla giddily leaned forward. “We ought to thank him for taking Cho. If only we could’ve seen Potter’s face when he first realized.”

“Still doesn’t make me like him any more,” Cass grumbled.

Ignoring him, Camilla continued, “Do you think they’ll keep dating through the tournament?”

“That’s one way to throw the kid off his game,” Odin smirked.

Tenley forced a smile, “Here’s hoping.”

With little to contribute to the rest of the conversation, she excused herself early and returned to her quiet cove. There, Tenley sat on her trunk and felt her pockets for the ring. The silver metal was still warm to the touch as she traced the outline of the sphinx with her finger.

She smiled.

After today’s rollercoaster of emotions, she appreciated a moment of calm.

The situation with Cho wasn’t ideal, but Cedric had said what she needed to hear.

He wanted her, and her alone, and as they laid together on the forest floor, Tenley wanted all of him too.

She stood and walked over to her mirror. Staring back at herself, she thought about her last few months at this school. Tenley felt different than when she had first arrived, and yet, her reflection looked the same. That is, except for the string that was once woven through her front braid. Reaching up, she felt the silver strand that now hung from the corner of her mirror. A thought occurred to her.

Removing the string, she threaded it through the ring and fastened it around her neck. Then, she tucked it beneath her sweater so that the warm metal grazed against her skin at heart-level. Something to remember the day by.

That night, Tenley clutched tight to her new necklace as she laid in bed, and gradually submerged into a deep sleep. She drifted in and out of scenes: the rug shop basement, the prefect’s bathroom, the owlery. Then, in a dreamy haze, she was back in her gold satin dress, her head resting on Cedric’s shoulder as they slowly stepped together under twinkling lights.

It began to snow.

White flurries floated around them, sticking to her eyelashes and melting onto her bare skin. He spoke, but his voice sounded gruff and muffled, so she looked up.

Panic-stricken black eyes stared back at her.

It wasn’t Cedric at all.

Instead, she was in the arms of a pale man with taut cheek bones, dark brown hair, and thick eyebrows. A man she had only seen in a photograph.

“He knows,” the man rasped.

With a gasp, Tenley sat upright in bed, and tried to shake Phineas Black Junior from her mind.

It wasn’t easy. She could still feel the grip of his hand and the pierce of his stare.

It’d been over a month since they had dug up the time capsule, and since then, Tenley had given little thought to what they had found.

She took hold of the old handkerchief that sat on her bedside table. Her fingers grazed over the crumbling numbers stitched into the lace. The same numbers she’d seen that morning, carved into the aspen tree.

It didn’t look good for Phineas. The photograph from the time capsule clearly pictured that same lace handkerchief poking out of his suit jacket pocket.

Did he kill Dorothy?

If so, why? Because she was muggle-born?

The idea made Tenley uncomfortable.

She’d read about the ethics of muggles learning magic. It wasn’t clear how they gained the ability in the first place, and given their history with the wizarding world, she wasn’t sure if it should be allowed, but murder?

Shaking away the thought, she remembered the scrap of parchment that Fitz had found in Dorothy’s textbook.

He knows.

They had yet to figure that piece out, and privately, Tenley hoped it would point the blame away from her house. She couldn’t stand the thought of Fitz being right.

However, her stomach churned for a different reason.

Tenley still had yet to face her brother after her blow-up on Christmas morning.

For the entire week left of break, she kept an eye out for Fitz.

To her surprise, he always seemed to be paired with the pale blonde Ravenclaw that she saw him dancing with at the Yule Ball. The girl was undeniably strange. She often kept her wand behind her ear and walked around the school with no shoes, but nevertheless, Tenley was glad her brother had found someone to talk to and… she welcomed any excuse to delay their next encounter.

There were plenty of other things to keep her busy. Tenley spent a good portion of the next week walking the grounds or playing cards with her friends. Her and Cedric tried to meet up whenever the clubhouse wasn’t ‘occupied’, which was occurring more and more frequently. By Sunday, the rest of the school had returned from break, including Avery. As they sprawled out around the common room fireplace, they spent the afternoon recounting everything that had happened while she was gone.

“I’m tellin’ yuh, Ave,” Hazel said after they’d rehashed the entire Yule Ball, “Yuh shoulduh been there.”

Avery nodded grimly, “I wish… Sounds loads better than my holiday.”

“What’d you do?” Tenley asked.

Avery shrugged, “Quiet, really.”

Tenley opened her mouth to move on, but then Avery’s timid voice continued. “Except for… there was this meeting.”

They waited patiently for her to continue.

“I only picked up bits and pieces… it sounds like there’s going to be a demonstration.”

“Of what?” Camilla piped in.

“Something similar to the World Cup,” she squeaked back.

Odin perked up, “Dark Lord supporters, you mean?”

Avery nodded her auburn head, “They mentioned the Triwizard Tournament.”

Tenley’s heart dropped into her stomach, “What do you mean exactly?”

“It wasn’t clear… but they said the third task would be the perfect place to grab people’s attention.”

“Back up, back up,” Camilla rattled. “Death Eaters were at your house?”

Fiddling with her hands in her lap, Avery replied, “Friends of my parents.”

“Incredible,” Odin murmured. “Proves there’s still life in the Anti-Statute movement…”

With a roll of her eyes, Hazel scolded, “Yuh don’ wannuh ge’ involved with that lot. We’re talkin’ dark ma-”

The sight of another Slytherin striding past their couch made her pause. Hazel quickly diverted, “Hey, Adrian. Welcome back.”

Clean-cut Adrian Pucey stopped before the fireplace, carrying the handle of a weathered briefcase with large brass clasps. He set it on the table in front of Tenley, and primly stated, “I got your case files.”

The brown leather briefcase stood on the coffee table, glinting in the firelight of the Slytherin common room. A melancholic tune from the self-playing piano and the soft chatter of surrounding students filled the silence as Tenley’s friends digested her story.

Finally, Cass cleared his throat. “So, you’re saying… a Cloak and Dagger member was murdered a century ago, and you convinced Pucey to get the MCI files for you?”

Tenley nodded.

“And my Aunt Nellie was involved,” Camilla added.

“She was a suspect. Yes.”

Camilla’s eyes narrowed, “And you had me dig up her time capsule to convict her?”

“To clear her name!” she countered. “Right now, the evidence is pointing to her friend, Phineas.”

Under her shirt, Tenley felt the sphinx ring grow warm against her chest and her heartrate began to quicken.

“Would’ve been nice to know,” Odin muttered, arms crossed. “Before risking our necks.”

Hazel snorted, “Like yuh don’t have secrets of your own.”

“Enough,” Camilla cut in. “I’m willing to look past it… as long as we can see what’s inside.”

“Be my guest,” Tenley offered.

Scooting forward, Camilla unlatched the box and cracked open the lid to reveal a mess of scrolls and loose parchment. Attached to the inside lid were sepia-toned photographs and scraps of paper with lines of blue string stretching across, connecting pieces of information.

“As if anyone could make sense of this lot,” she muttered, then pointed to a small headshot in the top left-hand corner, “This our girl?”

They all leaned forward to get a better look at the moving picture.

On a loop, they watched the young victim’s heart-shaped face bashfully avoid the camera. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun and there was a simple braided necklace that shimmered around her collar. When Dorothy finally met their eyes, she gave a reluctant half-smile.

Camilla removed the photo from the lid, and flipped it over to inspect the back.

“Careful,” Tenley warned. “You heard what Adrian said.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved away. “I’ll put it back. Nothing will be ‘tampered’ with…See, there’s writing here.”

Camilla unceremoniously read aloud, “Name: Dorothy Amelia Kemp. Age: Seventeen. Status: Witch. Blood: Muggle… Huh.”

She looked up at the group with her nose scrunched up. “They let muggle-borns into the club back then?”

Avery quietly offered, “It was during Dumbledore’s time.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore?” Tenley questioned. “He was a member?”

“His name’s in the ledger,” Avery said. Then, with a little more confidence, she added, “That was back when Gryffindors were still allowed.”

Hazel jumped in, “Not sayin’ I like him or anythin’… but it migh’ be why we weren’ expelled last year.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Cass grunted. “He was protecting the club. Not us.”

Odin reached into the briefcase and pulled out another photo.

“It’s the crime scene,” he stated plainly, then passed it to Hazel, who recoiled and quickly handed it off to Tenley.

Her stomach did a flip.

There, in her hand, was the image of Dorothy’s body lying on a bed of grass. The camera moved closer to her feet, then trailed up her ankle-length skirt and white puffy blouse until it focused on her face.

The same sharp eyes seen in her headshot were now bulged out and lifeless.

“Was it the killing curse?” Camilla asked.

With a shake of her head, Tenley tore her eyes from the dark bruising around Dorothy’s neck and gave her the photo. “Strangled. The murder weapon was never found. No trace of magic.”

“Nasty way tuh go, if yuh ask me,” Hazel muttered.

“Personal,” Avery whispered.

“Well,” Camilla said with a huff. “That settles it. My aunt would never.”

Avery mumbled, “She did duel Dorothy right before her death.”

“So what? She must’ve had other duels.”

Tenley shook her head. “Didn’t look like it. Only Cornelia.”

“Well, look again,” she combated. “We’ve got a Hogsmeade trip coming up this Friday. We’ll check the ledger then.”

Ignoring her, Odin pointed to the inside lid of the briefcase. “I didn’t know there were aspen trees in the Forbidden Forest.”

She followed his finger to a wide shot of the crime scene. It was unrecognizable to the place that Tenley had visited only a week before. Even despite the lack of snow, the clearing was smaller, enveloped by dense foliage and a thicket of thin white pockmarked trees.

“That’s weird,” she said, inspecting the picture closer. “Now there’s only one tree left… everything around it is dead.”

Odin’s forehead crinkled.

“That can’t be right,” he replied. “Aspen are a resilient species. Each tree is connected to the same root system. If one dies, another will pop up in its place.

There can’t just be one.”

“I’m telling you,” Tenley doubled down. “It freaky. One tree within… fifty feet.”

With his lips twisted to the side, he shook his head.

“Check this out,” Cass said while digging around the bottom of the briefcase. He held up a tiny glass vial swirling with a cloud-like substance. It gave off a blue glow that Tenley recognized from the Archive. “If only we had a Pensieve.”

“Whose memory would that be?” she asked.

“Must be the MCI agent who worked the case,” Camilla shrugged. “It’s so they can revisit the crime scene or any interviews.”

Flippantly, Tenley called out, “What good is that when we have no way to see it?”

“There’s always the Pensieve in the headmaster’s office,” Odin suggested. “You could put in a request to use his.”

Her eyes lit up. “Will that work?”

“Worth a try.”

Tenley took the vial from Cass’ hand, tossed it back into the briefcase, then closed its lid. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

“What?” Cass groaned. “We can’t see any more?”

“It’s late, and we’ve got class tomorrow,” she replied. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

They said their ‘goodnight’s as Tenley stood from the couch, then carried the old leather case towards the girl’s dormitory.

That’s when she heard a hiss.

Tenley’s head snapped to see Blaise Zabini reading in his usual armchair. His silver cat was perched on his lap, staring straight at her with big green eyes.

“Where’ve you been, Matilda?” she called, reaching out to pet her.

The cat bared its teeth and let out another menacing hiss. Tenley quickly pulled back her hand and looked to Blaise, “What’s gotten into her?”

Without taking his eyes off of his page, Blaise coolly said, “She can see through people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tenley disputed, taking a step forward. Then, at the sight of Matilda’s threatening stance, she backed away.

Wearing a bored expression, Blaise replied, “You’d know better than me.”

At a loss for words, Tenley slowly turned her back on them. She’d never seen Matilda act in such a way… especially to her. Unsettled, she continued to spiral down the dormitory staircase.

Nevertheless, there were more important things to consider.

Once in the privacy of her own cove, Tenley climbed onto her bed, opened up the MCI briefcase, and began laying out the contents in front of her.

Aside from the photos and memory vial, there was an autopsy report, investigation notes, and a collection of signed statements from people of interest. She came across familiar names, including Walter Nightengale, Cornelia Inkwell, and Phineas Black. As she poured over the scrolls of parchment, trying to decipher old handwriting, her eyes began to droop and the words blurred together.

It wasn’t long before she was soaring through the mountains, laying atop a magic carpet, weaving through evergreen trees and snow-covered peaks. She drank in the peaceful scenery until it dissolved into total darkness.

Suddenly, she was dropped onto a hardwood floor, standing in front of a wall of books that stretched high up to the ceiling. Her wispy dream had been invaded and replaced by the stark realism of the Hogwarts library.

“You won’t find it there.”

Tenley turned to find a young girl reading at a nearby table, drenched in purple hues that were streaming through the stained-glass window. She tucked a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, then smirked up at Tenley with a heart-shaped face and piercing indigo eyes.

Dorothy Kemp lifted her book to display the title Advanced Arithmatic Theory and said, “I’ll let you borrow it when I’m finished, alright?”

Before she could respond, the scene shifted to the clubhouse.

Encircled by dozens of unfamiliar faces, Tenley’s wand was drawn, pointing at a smug boy in old-fashioned maroon robes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dorothy with a quill, furiously scratching notes onto a scroll of parchment. She paused, looked up at Tenley, and gave her an encouraging nod.

There was a flash of yellow light, and then, Tenley was standing in the castle courtyard, underneath the blinding sun. In her hands, there was a rectangular wooden box with a metal telescopic lens poking out of the center.

“I wasn’t ready,” Dorothy called out.

In front of her, the Ravenclaw sat cross-legged on a stone ledge, holding the black leather ledger of the Cloak and Dagger Society. As if she had heard Tenley say something, Dorothy replied with a laugh, “Don’t lie to me. I heard the camera flicker!”

Tenley took a closer look at the bulky contraption that she was carrying. When she peeked through the glass eyepiece, her surroundings began to shrink and swirl until she awoke, fully-dressed, with papers and photographs strewn across her bed.

The sphinx ring felt hot against her chest.

As she laid there for a moment, she stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember each piece of her dream. It had all felt so real. Eventually, she placed everything back into the briefcase, then got ready for the day.

When she followed her friends to the Great Hall for breakfast, she quickly diverted to the Ravenclaw table to find her brother. He was sitting next to his little blonde friend who gave off the impression of always being lost in a daydream.

Tenley swung her legs over the bench across from them.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” she said, helping herself to a bite of toast.

Fitz gave her a disapproving frown.

“Luna,” he grumbled. “Meet, my sister, Tenley.”

With a voice like a windchime, the girl commented, “That’s a very unusual name.”

“Er, right…” Tenley awkwardly replied, then focused back on her brother. "I got the case files.”

She saw excitement flash across his face, then he quickly composed himself. “Why would you care?” he muttered, “God forbid you help a muggle-born.”

“Listen,” she lowered her voice to level with him. “I was upset… I just want Mom and Dad to be straight with us for once.”

He crossed his arms. “And what does that have to do with your new politics?”

“Don’t worry,” Tenley sighed with a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with questioning the system.”

“There is when it leads to hating muggles.”

“Be real, Fitz,” she scoffed. “I don’t hate anybody. I just want us protected. They’re the ones that would wipe us off the map if given the chance.”

Shaking his head, he cried, “That’s why we have the Statute in the first place!”

“Hey, hey, there’s no need to get emotional,” she smirked.

Fitz glared at her.

“Wizards have more power, Ten,” he said through thin lips. “It’s our job not to abuse it.”

“It’s not like I’m advocating for muggle extinction! Think of all the problems that magic could solve if we were in charge. It’s the best outcome for everyone.”

Luna’s eyes widened like a child. “I read about a new species of hummingbear,” she softly announced. “They were introduced in the Azores to help the crops grow… but then, the hummingbears kept eating all the tea leaves.”

Tenley stared open-mouthed at the odd girl.

“Hummingbear…?” Fitz pondered, then shook his head. “Never mind. The point being – wizards would just create new problems.”

“Agree to disagree,” Tenley casually waved away.

“Do you really want to be on the same side as Voldemort!?”

She rolled her eyes with a nervous laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Her mind flitted to the night prior when Avery admitted to knowing family friends who were Death Eaters. It did make the threat of the Dark Lord feel more real. Whatever his followers were planning for the Triwizard Tournament, she needed to ensure that it didn’t affect Cedric, but that was a problem for another day.

“I never said that I support dark magic.”

“It’s a slippery slope,” he warned. “Thinking that the ends justify the means.”

“Fitz,” she said firmly. “Do you want the case files or not?”

He thought for a moment, then reluctantly conceded, “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, I’ll get them to you, but in the meantime, we need access to a Pensieve.”

“There’s a memory on record?!”

She nodded. “We’ve just got to be able to see it. Leave it to me.”

It was a delicate decision on when to make her request and to whom.

Her first thought was to ask her dad, but that was a conversation she wasn’t ready to have yet. Instead, after careful consideration, Tenley landed on her head of house, so she patiently waited for their Wednesday Potions lesson. Once class was dismissed, she made a point to slowly clean up her station and linger by Professor Snape’s desk as the rest of the students filed out of the room.

“What can I do for you, Miss Wright?” he drawled. His slick black hair fell over his face as he sprinkled a jar of boomslang skin onto a scale.

Tenley straightened her posture and cleared her throat. “Sir,” she began. “I was wondering if you could help me with a History assignment.”

He paused, then said, “It seems you’ve mistaken me for Professor Binns.”

“No, no, see – I’d like to use the memories in the Archive, and I thought you would know how to view them.”

Snape set down the jar and turned to face her.

“Congratulations,” he sneered. “In all my time here, this may well be the worst attempt to use the headmaster’s Pensieve.”

“Sir-”

“I encourage you to save yourself the trouble,” he continued. “The Pensieve is only used for special circumstances, and unless personally invited by the headmaster himself, you won’t be getting past the gargoyle.”

“But why-”

“Miss Wright,” he said with a sharpened tone. “Slytherin house comes with certain privileges. This is not one of them. I suggest that you leave our past alone.”

Tenley fought the urge to groan as Snape stood and ushered her toward the exit. As they reached the dungeon door, she looked up at him and said, “At least tell me what memory you left behind.”

His lips thinned. “Out.”

She cut her losses and dipped out of the room. However, as she made her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, she kept coming back to one new piece of information.

Gargoyle.

Just six weeks prior, she had walked with her uncle, Kingsley, to a staircase behind a rather ugly stone gargoyle. That very statue must guard the headmaster’s office, Tenley thought with a sly smile, and lucky for her… she still remembered the password.

* * *

“Yur gonna do what?” Hazel exclaimed.

As Tenley shuffled her deck of cards and dealt them around the table, she’d quietly told her friends about her intention to sneak into Dumbledore’s office.

“It’s mental,” Odin said.

“Suicidal is more like it,” Cass added. “You’re really going to risk expulsion for the off chance that you’ll solve some century-old murder?”

“I know how it sounds,” she sighed. Then, with a grin, she said. “But I’ve already come this far.”

It was true. Tenley wasn’t ready to quit, not after receiving confidential case files and breaking into the quidditch pitch.

Camilla interrupted her thoughts, “And you’re sure it’s necessary? What more will the memories provide that’s not already in the briefcase?”

“Don’t forget the Archive,” Tenley reminded her. “What if there’s a memory in there that provides the missing piece?”

“You won’t have enough time to go through all of them…”

Tenley put a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll be selective. Besides, everyone will be too busy with the second task.”

All day, she had run through the logistics in her mind.

The next event in the Triwizard Tournament was only a few weeks away and Tenley figured it would be her best shot. It was the perfect way to ensure that the whole school, including the headmaster, would be out of the castle. The downside was that she wouldn’t be able to see Cedric compete. Although, after the stress-inducing dragon showdown, she wasn’t too torn up about it.

Now that the holidays were over, the second task had returned to the forefront of their minds. It seemed like ages ago that she and Cedric had tried to figure out the golden egg’s song, but after talking with her mother, Tenley was certain that the next task would be held at the Black Lake. Cedric would need to breathe underwater for an hour. However, it was still unclear exactly what he would need to “recover”.

Her mom had also mentioned merpeople.

“Not exactly the most friendly species,” Tenley advised one night as they both sat on the clubhouse couch. “Known to pull sailors to their deaths.”

“No one’s going to drown,” Cedric assured. “I just need to practice the bubble-head charm a bit more.”

With his hand in her lap, Tenley toyed with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. “Sounds like a good excuse to go swimming.”

Cedric’s lips lifted into a teasing smile, “Remember when you didn’t want to be a distraction?”

“I’ve embraced my role as your motivation,” she said matter-of-factly, then leaned close to his ear. “Let’s say… a reward for every twenty minutes you can breathe underwater.”

“Hmm…” He looked up at her through his lashes. “Fifteen.”

“A hard bargain,” she sighed.

He pulled her close and tickled her sides. “Is that so?”

Breaking into a smile, she said, “I guess I can accommodate.”

Tenley couldn’t remember a happier time.

When she was with him, nothing else mattered. No outside perceptions or murder mystery or family secrets could reach them in their little sanctuary, but with Friday fast approaching, that sense of safety didn’t last long.

Not only did the trip to Hogsmeade signal the next Cloak and Dagger meeting, it meant coming face-to-face with one Ravenclaw in particular.

It had been nearly two weeks since Cedric had spilled their secret to Cho, and worse, Tenley had agreed for the two of them to continue “seeing” each other. It was all in an effort to ensure no one could interfere with her real relationship with Cedric. Still, no matter how Tenley rationalized it, she hated the idea of him with Cho.

Luckily, she hadn’t had much time to dwell on it. That is, until she was confronted with it head on.

On Friday afternoon, amidst the frosty January air, Tenley and friends followed the throng of students to the local village. While helping Hazel narrow down her purchases, Tenley nearly dropped an entire stack of books when she looked through the storefront window to see Cedric and Cho, hand-in-hand.

Tenley’s face grew hot and her insides twisted into tight knots. Eyes glued to them, she watched as the happy couple strolled into Madame Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.

For the next hour, she could think of little else.

What did they talk about? Was Tenley on his mind at all?

Itching for her wand, she thought about all the ways she could sabotage their date… but no, that would do no good. Besides, Cho would have to ditch him soon to attend club. So, in a sour mood, Tenley continued to peruse aisles of quidditch gear and potion ingredients, coming up with curses she could throw at Cho during their next duel.

When it was finally time, she followed her friends down their usual route to the Hog’s Head. As they walked through the door, she noticed the sphinx ring grow warm underneath her shirt. The bartender, Abe, was nowhere to be seen. There was only the familiar drunken old man, slumped over the bar top. He jerked his head up in acknowledgment as they let themselves into the backroom to join the club members in the basement below.

When their boots landed on the dirt floor, Avery immediately beelined to the air vent to retrieve the Cloak and Dagger ledger.

Within seconds, Tenley spotted Cho.

There she was, chatting among the small crowd, with her sleek black hair and perfect skin. Against her better judgement, Tenley walked straight toward her.

“-it was just coffee,” Cho was saying to a friend.

Bitterly, Tenley barged in, “Ready for another round?”

Cho curiously scanned her face, then her lips settled into a polite smile, “I better quit while I’m ahead, don’t you think?”

“And ruin the fun?”

There was a twinge of humor in Cho’s brown eyes. “I don’t need to duel to know who’s winning.”

Tenley let out a sharp laugh, then held back some choice words as Camilla called the meeting to order. She knew that Cho’s offer to date Cedric was far from charitable. There had to be a hidden agenda, and here it was. In Cho’s mind, this was a competition, and Cedric was the prize. When Camilla finished her announcements, students began to form a circle to prepare for the first duel.

Tenley leaned close and said, “You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

“We’ll see,” Cho replied with a twinkle in her eye.

Fuming, Tenley walked away and found her friends gathered in the corner.

“Take a look yourself,” Avery whispered. “Dorothy dueled once. Only a week before her death.”

Camilla scanned the yellowed pages of the old ledger, and snorted. “How’d she manage to beat Nellie?”

“Does it matter?” Tenley asked.

“Look at how many galleons were at stake!” she argued. “My aunt was the clear favorite. You’re telling me this muggle just happens to hex her on her first go-round?”

Odin smirked, “Beginner’s luck.”

A round of applause broke out across the room. They all looked over to see a younger Slytherin helping Roger Davies off the ground.

Tenley turned back to the group, “She had motive… but the handkerchief still points to Phineas Black.”

“Maybe he killed her on Cornelia’s behalf?” Cass suggested.

“It’s possible…”

For the next hour, they ignored the action from the other side of the room and continued to exchange theories. Tenley told them about the note that Fitz had found in her textbook. He knows. They came up with plausible scenarios, some more outrageous than others, including gambling debt, drug dealing, and a love triangle. There was no telling if the notorious ‘he’ was connected to the murder, but they sure had fun speculating.

Once the last duel wrapped up, members began trickling out of the basement until they were the only ones left. As they put on their coats, Avery returned the ledger to the air vent, and one by one, they all climbed up the ladder and back out into the cold. The sun had almost fully set, so they pulled their collars up high to protect their necks from the whistling wind.

After a couple blocks down the cobblestone street, Cass stopped and said, “Hold up. I forgot to pay Abe.”

There was a collective groan.

“It’ll only take a minute!”

“You guys go ahead,” Tenley offered. “I’ll stay with him.”

Hazel shrugged. “Meet yuh back at the castle.”

Within minutes, Cass and Tenley were back at the dingy pub. Again, she felt her sphinx ring heating up as they walked through the door.

They found the scraggly bartender cleaning a pint glass with the corner of his apron. Abe grunted at them, “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Striding up to the bar top, Cass stood next to the wrinkled regular with bushy white eyebrows. He handed over a small velvet pouch that clinked with coins. “I’ve told you. We’re good for it.”

Tenley joined his side, and suddenly, the ring scalded her skin.

“Ow!” she yelped, quickly pulling the string out from under her shirt.

The men turned to stare at her.

Next to her, the drunk patron took one look at the ring hanging from her neck, then growled, “Where did you get that?”

“What?”

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?” He erupted.

“I… I found it,” she stuttered.

“Take it off!” He yelled, then lunged for her neck.

Cass stepped in front of her just in time, grabbing the man’s hands and pinning them behind his back. “I don’t want to hurt you, old man.”

Tenley stood frozen as she watched him struggle against Cass with wild eyes.

“Listen to me!” the man gasped for air. “Destroy it. You must destroy it!”

“Stupefy!”

A jet of red light hit the assailant square in the chest, and he went limp in Cass’ arms. They looked over to see Abe tucking his wand away in his apron pocket. He hobbled over and helped Cass lay the old drunk on the barroom floor.

“I’ll take care of it,” Abe sighed. “You should go.”

Shell-shocked, Tenley stood there wide-eyed.

“Are you gonna alert the ministry?” Cass demanded. “This guy’s a raving lunatic!”

Firmer, the bartender said, “I’ll take care of it.”

Cass wrapped an arm around Tenley’s shoulders and led her out the door into the black night. With only the moon lighting their path, they swiftly began their trek back to the castle.

“What the hell was that?” he exclaimed.

Tenley stayed silent. Eyes on her feet, she focused on matching his stride while her fingers fiddled with the ring around her neck. It was still warm.

“That guy’s bloody lucky Abe was there,” Cass huffed. “I wouldn’t be so easy on him. Think of the damage he could’ve done!”

When she didn’t respond, he continued his tirade. “We oughta drink for free from now on… At least a discount would be nice!”

Meanwhile, Tenley couldn’t stop the man’s screech from echoing in her ears.

You must destroy it!

What was his connection to the ring? Was it actually dangerous?

Back in the privacy of her cove, Tenley carefully lifted the necklace up over her head, then inspected it carefully. Tracing the grooves and etches of the silver sphinx, she thought about all of the times the ring had grown hot to the touch. To be safe, she reached over and placed it above her bed in the flower pot that Cedric had gifted her.

That night, she tossed and turned, struggling to get comfortable. Her mind whirred with images of the wild man’s eyes. However, when she finally drifted off to sleep, it was Dorothy who crept into her dreams.

They were back in the empty clubhouse.

Lit by flickering torchlight, the square room looked exactly the same as Tenley was used to with ancient tapestries and familiar frames covering the walls. As usual, Dorothy’s dark brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun and a thick braid of silvery string hung from her neck. Wearing a white blouse and long skirt that cinched her waist, she paced back and forth in front of Tenley.

“One more time,” Dorothy assured her. “I promise.”

She knelt down and pulled back a corner of the area rug, then tapped her wand on the wood while whispering something under her breath. A small plank popped out to reveal a secret compartment in the floor. Dorothy reached in and pulled out a scroll of parchment.

Unrolling it, she muttered, “Someone was bound to find out eventually. As much as I hate to admit… she’s not an idiot.”

She looked up as if Tenley had said something.

“It’s the only way,” Dorothy replied, “I win. She gets her money back.”

Staring straight into her indigo eyes, Tenley watched the young woman’s face soften as she continued the one-sided conversation.

“No, no. You heard Inkwell. It has to be me.”

Dorothy’s attention returned to the piece of parchment in her hands. She studied it in silence for a moment, then said, “Everyone will bet on her to win. It’s foolproof.”

After a pause, Dorothy rolled her eyes, “You don’t have to tell me the odds. I know what I’m doing.”

The sound of the portrait hole creaked open, and Dorothy scrambled to roll up the parchment and return it to its hiding place.

“Let’s talk about this after class.” she whispered, “Meet me at our spot.”

Without warning, Tenley began to feel herself surface from the depths of her consciousness until she became fully aware of her body lying in bed.

Something was tickling her forehead.

Opening her eyes, a cluster of green leaves slowly came into focus.

Tenley jerked up and looked behind her.

“What the hell?”

In place of the single potted flower, an entire garden of at least a dozen shimmering blue roses had grown overnight, obscuring her windowsill. Open-mouthed, she gently touched a petal to ensure they were real. Then, she reached through the dense greenery to the pot of dirt where she made contact with hot silver.

Holding the sphinx ring in her hand, she whispered, “Aren’t you full of surprises…”

With a shake of her head, she placed it back in the terracotta pot and quickly threw on a sweatshirt and jeans.

This time, Tenley wasn’t so sure that her dream was just a dream.

It was too specific. Too real, like watching a film.

She replayed the scene in her head as she made her way out of the common room. Dorothy was talking to someone about her upcoming duel… and she was planning to win. All Tenley knew for sure is that she needed to get to the clubhouse immediately to confirm if there really was a secret compartment hidden in the floor.

Unfortunately, before she had even reached the end of the hallway, the Woman in White called out to her. “Occupied!”

“Are you kidding me?” Tenley groaned as she slowed in front of her. “This is important. Can’t you make an exception?”

The painted woman sighed, “How would you feel if I made an exception when you were in there? No, I like to keep my word.”

Tenley rolled her eyes. The portrait had a point.

“Fine,” she conceded, “but I’ll be back later.”

Returning to her swing, the woman waved goodbye as Tenley headed back out of the hall and up the stairs to the Great Hall.

It was only Cass and Hazel at the breakfast table.

“There she is!” Cass said as she sat down. “I was just telling Haze about last night.”

“Yuh alrigh’? Hazel asked, placing a reassuring hand on her back.

Tenley gave a small nod.

With flailing gestures, Cass continued, “This guy was senile! Spouting off about destroying something.”

“My necklace,” she clarified. “He was talking about my necklace.”

Hazel’s brow furrowed, “Any chance he’s righ’? I’ve heard abou’ bewitched jewelry.”

“Don’t know,” she shrugged, “But so far, I think the only thing it’s done is grow some flowers. How bad could it be?”

Before either of them could respond, Fitz’ wiry frame thumped down on the bench next to her. Under his breath, he said, “I’ve gone through the files.”

“Let’s hear it,” Cass called out, crossing his arms.

Fitz eyed him with an air of uncertainty.

“C’mon, they already know about the case. You can trust them,” Tenley encouraged.

“Okay…” her brother hesitantly began. “Well, for starters, the MCI was able to corroborate the whereabouts of all of Dorothy’s friends around the time of her death. The only statements that were flimsy were… um… the Slytherins-”

He swallowed, then quickly added, “And get this - Albus Dumbledore.”

Tenley’s ears perked up. With a smirk, she said, “I knew the old man wasn’t as squeaky clean as people think.”

“He was in the same year as Dorothy,” Fitz continued. “And there was a witness who saw him walking out of the forest on the same day as the murder.”

“Checkmate!” Hazel declared. “How’d he ge' outtuh tha’?”

“He claimed that he was taking his daily stroll and that he didn’t see or hear anyone on his route.”

“And they believed him?” Cass grumbled.

“Here’s the thing,” Fitz replied. “There were multiple witnesses that saw Cornelia threaten Dorothy a week before her death, including Phineas and Walter.”

“Where were they during the murder?"

“Well, the three of them say they were all together,” he explained. “Flying practice on the quidditch pitch, but there’s no one that could back-up their story.”

Tenley’s nose wrinkled, “So what? We literally have Dumbledore leaving the scene of the crime.”

“There’s no other evidence that points to him,” Fitz countered. “What motive would he have? They didn’t seem to know each other outside of class.”

She held her tongue.

The dueling club was the connection, but her brother was not privy to that information. Tenley thought back to last night’s dream. It sounded like Cornelia had found something out about Dorothy… what was it? And, who was she talking to?

“Maybe I’ll find something in Dumbledore’s office,” she suggested.

Fitz eyed her curiously, “Did you get access to his Pensieve?”

“You could say that.”

“Please tell me you’re not gonna do what I think you’re gonna do,” he warned.

Hazel hid a laugh behind her hand. “She’s jus’ as batty as yuh think.”

“There’s got to be a better way!” he argued. “Don’t be stupid, Ten.”

Tenley grinned, “Everything will be just fine… Do you wanna see those memories or not?”

“Let me try first, okay?” he negotiated. “I’ll… uh… form a student group! Maybe they’ll let us use it if there’s an academic basis.”

“You do that,” she smirked. “In the meantime, I’ll be gunning for February 24th.”

“February, twen… the second task?”

With a sly smile, she nodded.

Her brother held his forehead in his hand. “I guess that gives me some time to figure something out… Hey, before I forget, Dad wants to see you”

“Why?” she said skeptically.

“Says you’ve been avoiding him.”

Tenley rolled her eyes, “Oh, please, I skip one class and he’s-”

Fitz gave her a knowing look.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll go.”

Tenley set down her fork, swung her legs over the side of the bench, and added, “Let me know if you find anything else in the files.”

Once outside the Great Hall, she made her way down the first-floor corridor to her dad’s office. It was true that she hadn’t talked to him since Christmas, and Tenley struggled to come up with what she was going to say to him. She kept running into conversation landmines like ‘Hey dad, this old drunk tried to attack me last night’, or ‘This girl is trying to steal my secret boyfriend’, or even better, ‘I’m going to sneak into-

Suddenly, she was pulled through the Defense Against the Dark Arts doorway and into familiar arms. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, Cedric’s lips were on hers. Tenley leaned into the kiss, gripping tight to his gold-flecked hair while he moved in closer. Cedric pressed her back against the door and lifted her thigh up around his waist. As they melded into one another, she finally placed her hands to his chest and pulled back.

“It’s nice to see you too,” she said between staggered breaths.

He grinned down at her.

Then, she felt his shoulders stiffen.

Voices echoed down the hall, gradually getting closer until they stopped directly in front of them. Cedric grabbed her hand and they scampered to the back of the classroom. Nestling underneath one of the tables, they heard the door open and two pairs of footsteps enter.

“You were saying,” Professor Moody prompted.

The tired old voice of Albus Dumbledore replied, “He’s not being truthful.”

“Let me talk to him,” Moody grunted. “I’ll get it out of him.”

“No, no, Alastor… it’s important not to force it. After everything that’s happened, I can understand his hesitation with wizards.”

“He underestimates us. I can see it clearly hiding in the lining of his jacket!”

“We don’t know if it’s the map,” the headmaster countered.

Huddled together, Tenley gave Cedric a puzzled look.

Dumbledore continued, “I talked with him yesterday afternoon. He still claims that it was destroyed during their escape.”

“Bullshit,” he grumbled. “Have you made it clear that the Fleece may be the only way to stop the Dark Lord from coming back?”

“I haven’t put those pieces together for him yet,” Dumbledore admitted. “Gerald’s interest isn’t in horcruxes… He’s convinced of the existence of an entirely different type of soulcatcher.”

Eyes as wide as saucers, Tenley listened carefully. Not only were these men talking about her dad, they seemed to be seriously discussing Odin’s outlandish theory about objects that capture your soul.

Moody growled, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing that I can see, but we must tread carefully. If I’m right about the horcruxes, that map is the only way to find them.”

“He’s a muggle, Albus. I’ll just take it from him.”

“He’s just as much a part of the Order as you and I,” Dumbledore stated.

The sound of feet clipped across the floor and the door opened.

Then, with a sigh, the old man added, “I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that.”

* * *

When the coast was clear, they crawled out from under the table and Cedric helped Tenley to her feet.

“What do you think that was all about?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she lied.

No one was supposed to know about her dad’s lack of magic, and although she trusted Cedric, she didn’t want to burden him with another secret.

He continued his line of questioning, “What’s a horcrux? And what does it have to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

Tenley’s brow furrowed, “They must think… that he saved his soul in some kind of object…”

“Is that even possible?”

“Odin thinks so,” she replied. “Calls it a ‘soulcatcher’… That’s what he believes the Golden Fleece is…”

“I’d say he’s mad, but if the headmaster believes it…” He pondered, “It must have some merit, right?”

She grimaced, “We shouldn’t put our faith in that guy.”

This was just another reason to be weary of Albus Dumbledore.

If Tenley heard him correctly, he was trying to get some kind of map from her dad, and he wasn’t above taking it by force. Did Moody mention it was in the lining of his jacket?

“I bet that painting knows more,” Cedric offered. “Any luck finding an heirloom?”

It’d been weeks since they had talked to the portrait of Medea in the clubhouse. The painted woman had alluded that this “Fleece” was real, but wouldn’t give any other details until Tenley brought her a family heirloom.

“My dad has this lucky coin that he keeps on him,” she explained, then crossed her arms and looked away, “Says it’s too ‘special’ to let me borrow it.”

“You’ll find something else,” he assured.

When she didn’t meet his eye, he stepped closer and lifted her chin.

“Hey,” he said, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Her mind immediately drifted to the image of him in Hogsmeade. Softly, she mumbled, “…I saw you with Cho yesterday.”

“Ten-”

“You make it very convincing,” she cut in. “Almost like you don’t have to act at all.”

“Say the word and it’s over.”

She eyed him skeptically. There was no question that Cho had feelings for Cedric, but if he didn’t reciprocate… Tenley had no problem leading her on. “You swear there’s nothing between you two.”

“Cross my heart,” he assured. “She just wants to help take attention off us.”

“Right,” she said with a curl of her lips.

Tenley walked to the front of the room, and Cedric followed.

With her hand on the door, she looked back at him with as much sincerity as she could muster and whispered, “Please don’t make me regret it.”

Then, she slipped out into the hallway.

It wasn’t long before she made her way back to the common room. Her friends were quietly sitting at their usual table with textbooks and ink bottles scattered around. This time, everyone was accounted for.

“You won’t believe what I just heard,” she said, pulling up a chair. They all looked up from their homework as she continued, “Odin, you gotta tell me everything you know about a horcrux.”

His heavy-lidded eyes lit up, “Finally, someone wants to hear about soulcatchers!”

There was a groan around the table.

Hazel shook her head and sighed, “Don’ encourage him, Tenny.”

“That’s the dark one,” he eagerly explained. “They say it splits your soul – like tears it into two pieces. The horcrux keeps the other half… so you can’t die unless it’s destroyed.”

“Ody, why do yuh care so much? Yuh tryin’ tuh split your soul?” Hazel asked.

“No, no,” he said, exasperated. “It’s not my own mortality that interests me. It’s who has access to this information. Should any wizard be allowed to play God?”

Avery’s quiet voice chimed in, “That’s how you think the Dark Lord survived?”

“It’s a theory,” he affirmed.

Tenley tried her best to piece together this information with the conversation she overheard just an hour before. Dumbledore needs a map to find Voldemort’s horcrux… but her dad was interested in a different type of soulcatcher.

“There’s another kind?”

“Allegedly,” he answered quickly. “The zophora. There’s no record of anyone achieving it though.”

Under her breath, she mouthed out the word ‘zophora’, then asked “What does that one do?”

“It keeps the soul fully intact. If you die while wearing it, it’s supposed to capture your soul.”

“And… how do you, like, get it back?

“That – I don’t know,” he admitted. “Like I said, no one knows if it actually exists… Why the sudden interest?”

As all eyes turned on her, Tenley filtered through how much she was willing to divulge. She finally said, “I heard Dumbledore talking to Moody about horcruxes and something about the Golden Fleece.”

With a loud humph, Cass muttered, “Proves he’s lost his bloody mind.”

Odin, however, looked like he had been given the greatest gift of his life. Looking up in complete awe, he breathed, “I knew it was real.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Camilla interjected. “This is Mad-Eye and Dumbledud we’re talking about.”

Tenley lowered her voice, “That’s not the craziest part… They think my dad has some kind of map.”

“Of what?” Odin exclaimed. “Soulcatchers? What would a Muggle Studies professor be doing with that?”

She stayed silent as his words hung over her head.

Since her family had moved across the ocean, Tenley had come to realize there was a lot about her parents that she didn’t understand. Asking questions had gotten her nowhere, but maybe with this inside knowledge…

Tenley snickered at her own wishful thinking.

There was no chance that they would be more forthcoming, yet still, it didn’t change the facts: Her dad was a target. He needed to be warned.

The next day, Tenley was on high alert for her dad. Not only did she stop by his office, she also scouted the head table for him at meals. Of course, when she actually wanted to talk to him, he was nowhere to be found.

Instead, she resigned herself to wait until Monday afternoon.

When she finally strolled into Muggle Studies, she was met by the shrewd glare of Summer Marks, who was perched on top of Graham Appleby’s desk. Completing the hellish Hufflepuff package, dull-eyed Tony Rickett sat in the chair behind them.

“Summer,” Tenley muttered as she walked past.

In a sickly-sweet tone, the pale girl said, “Nice to see you’ve recovered from the ball. How embarrassing to be stumbling around like that…”

Tenley’s steps slowed.

“And it’s nice to see that you found your boyfriend,” she retorted. “If I was him, I’d want to hide from you too.”

Summer rolled her eyes as Tenley settled into the seat in front of the red-headed firework twins.

“Haven’t seen our Slytherin friend in a while. Have we, George?”

“Indeed,” his brother agreed. “I thought she dropped the class.”

Tenley shook her head with a smile, then called back, “You know my dad’s the teacher, right?”

“Ah, good ol’ Professor Wright...”

“What do you think, Fred? Can two wrongs make a Wright?

“Well, George,” he grinned. “Based on who we have in front of us, I’d say two Wrights made a wrong.”

Unamused, she mumbled, “Hilarious.”

Then, the classroom door opened and Gerry strolled in, balancing a stack of college-ruled notebooks on top of his briefcase.

“I spent the weekend mulling over your papers,” he called out, checking the names on each notebook before returning them to the proper student. “Some very interesting observations were made about the way non-magic folk use myths and legends to make sense of their world. Here’s a question, do-”

Gerry’s eyes brightened when he spotted his daughter. He lowered his voice as he reached her desk, “I’m glad that you could join us, Ten. Let’s talk after class.”

Continuing on down the row, her dad addressed the room once again, “My question is - do wizards not do the very same thing?”

“It’s different,” A Ravenclaw spoke at the same time that he raised his hand. “We know the truth.”

“Say more, Ulric.”

“Well… since they don’t know that magic exists, they have to come up with stories that explain away all the weird stuff happening around them. For us, we know it’s things like haunted silverware or mandrakes or… or blast-ended skrewts, you know?”

“True. In many cases, we have more information than non-magic people, but… do we know everything? Have wizards solved all the mysteries of the universe?”

The class was silent.

“I’ll give you an example that I was recently discussing with my son… Fourth Year. Bright kid,” her dad added with a proud smile. “We were talking about the Forbidden Forest. Can anyone tell me why it’s off-limits?”

“The animals,” Graham answered matter-of-factly. “They don’t want us running into any dangerous beasts.”

“I always thought it’s so they can keep a closer eye on us,” Fred countered. “Think of all the things we could get up to in there.”

Tenley felt her face grow warm, thinking about her last encounter in the forest.

“And Ulric?” Gerry prompted.

The boy frowned. “It’s cursed. Any Ravenclaw who goes near it will disappear or… or die a painful death.”

There was a sputter of guffaws around the room.

Her dad gave a sympathetic smile. “It’s possible! Afterall, we know that curses are real, just like we know that magical beasts live in the forest, and that students… always find trouble.”

“Here’s my point,” he said, leaning on the corner of his desk. “You’ve all come up with rationale to explain the unknown. This is not unique to muggles. You are more similar than you are different… Alright, turn to chapter seven in your textbooks.”

The rest of the hour passed by rather quickly, and when the bell rang, Tenley stayed in her seat until the rest of the class had filed out. When the last student closed the door, she slowly stood and approached her dad’s desk.

“Dad, there’s something-”

At the sound of her voice, Gerry nearly jumped out of his chair and scooped her into his arms. She’d never admit it, but Tenley missed the familiar texture of his sport coat and the scruff of his chin against the top of her head.

“It’s good to see you, T-Leaf.”

“It wasn’t that long,” she batted away.

Releasing her, he offered up a chair and said, “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“Do we?”

Gerry settled across the desk from her. There was remorse in his blue eyes as he confessed, “It’s been a whirlwind of change, and I’m afraid I got too caught up in my own story. So… I’d like to correct that. How’ve you been?”

Tenley was caught off guard by his apology.

“Oh. Good… I guess,” she faltered, then chose a different route, “But dad, listen… how much do you trust the headmaster?”

His brow furrowed.

“How much…” he repeated, then asked, “What’s on your mind, Ten?”

“I heard him talking to Professor Moody… there’s this map that he wants and he thinks you have it.”

Scratching his chin, Gerry pondered, “Does he now?”

“And!” she quickly added, “There was all this stuff about horcruxes and the Dark Lord and the Golden-”

“Back up, back up,” her dad cut in. “The Dark Lord?”

“Yeah!”

“Tenley,” he said, closing his eyes. “Only his followers call him that…”

Her face fell as she realized what he was getting at.

Gerry leveled with her, “Is that what your friends have been saying?”

“Um…” Wracking her brain, she tried to trace back when she had first heard the term. Wasn’t that what everyone said? Tenley remembered being told that the name ‘Voldemort’ wasn’t appropriate in public, but she never questioned what the proper alternative should be.

“That – that’s not the point,” she stuttered. “I’m trying to tell you what I heard-”

“I can promise you,” he said. “Albus did not refer to Voldemort as the ‘Dark Lord’.”

“Okay, but he still wants-”

“I’m concerned,” her dad continued. “Mom has made me aware of some questionable things about your house.”

Bristling, Tenley replied, “Like how it’s an evil cult?”

“I’d say… it has a sordid history.”

“She’s just jealous,” Tenley scoffed. “She would’ve done anything to follow Kingsley here.”

“Tenley,” he affirmed. “It’s natural to defend your friends. But be careful not to let that loyalty bleed into a doctrine you don’t understand.”

“And what doctrine is that?” she challenged. “Ensuring the survival of wizardkind? Bettering the world with magic oversight?”

“Anything can be wrapped in a pretty package, love.”

“Meaning?”

“You must consider what these ideas can do in the wrong hands. People have their own self-serving agendas. Even the best intentions are easily corrupted.”

“So, you’ve got the moral high ground, huh? Your side could never be corrupted?”

“I don’t pretend to have all the answers… what I do know is Voldemort is dangerous. He will kill and torture anyone who stands in his way. We cannot let him or his followers gain power again.”

“I never said that I support him, and neither did my friends!”

Gerry carefully studied her face, then asked, “How many would take a stand against him?”

Tenley opened her mouth, but no words came out, so her dad continued.

“Voldemort tied himself to an old ideology,” he explained. “And cleverly so. Even those who don’t like him, will never oppose him. All in the name of their belief system.”

“Do you really think he could come back?” she murmured.

“Alive or not,” he asserted. “His rhetoric – what he represents - lives on. Even if we stop him, someone else will just take his place… Look at what happened at the World Cup.”

“They’re a fringe group!” She argued. “Death Eaters aren’t representative of the entire movement.”

“And what movement would that be?”

“Those against the Statute of Secrecy!”

He sighed, “There’s room for debate there, Ten, but I warn you, Anti-Statute is not a far cry away from pureblood supremacy. It’s becoming more and more dangerous for people like me.”

Tenley thought back to the Archive and all the information advocating for a better world where wizards could live openly. Muggles would finally be able to reap the benefits of their magical contributions.

With a roll of her eyes, she said, “You’re overreacting.”

“I wish,” he snorted. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of waiting to find out.”

“What about this map?” She said, “If you’re so concerned about Voldemort coming back, why don’t you just give Dumbledore what he wants?”

“I trust the headmaster as much as anyone should trust a person with power,” Gerry admitted. “He is fallible like the rest of us, but his mistakes have greater consequences.”

She looked up at him with a glint in her eye, “So you do have it?”

“I,” her dad hesitated, then said, “I think that’s quite enough for today.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, Tenley gathered her bag and rose from her chair. As she crossed the room, her dad added, “But please consider what I’ve said. There’s a rush – a sense of righteousness - that comes with going against the grain, and I sincerely hope you don’t confuse it as Truth.”

Ignoring him, she called back, “At least hide it somewhere better than your jacket!”

His eyebrows shot upward, and with that, she skipped out the door.

The next few weeks, Tenley barely had any time to think about anything other than school. Sixth year classes had reached a whole new grueling level, causing them to spend most nights hunkered down in the common room. Furthermore, the Woman in White had turned them away enough times that Tenley and Cedric were back to stolen glances across rooms. She tried not to think about Cho, and how the pretty Ravenclaw was likely getting more quality time with him than she was.

When she did have a few spare moments, Tenley scoured shelves for information related to soulcatchers or the Golden Fleece.

There wasn’t much.

In the Archive, she found reference to a ‘horcrux’ in the Dark Arts section of an old history textbook. It’s said to have been first created by Herpo the Foul, an ancient Greek wizard who also happened to hatch the first basilisk egg.

“Charming guy,” she muttered.

As for the Hogwarts library, she found a copy of ‘Medea and the Golden Fleece’. This story was quite different from the muggle version she’d come to know. Rather than the mortal hero, Jason, the book centered on the magical princess, Medea.

The witch falls in love with Jason, helps him complete three impossible tasks, and they steal the Golden Fleece from her father. That was all the same. However, the wizarding world’s account focused more on what happened after they ran away together.

Even though Medea sacrificed everything for this muggle, he ends up leaving her for another woman. In retaliation for his betrayal, she tricks him.

“How?” Fitz asked one morning.

As they walked around the Black Lake in the brisk February air, Tenley was filling her brother in on everything she’d learned.

Finally, she had piqued his interest.

He asked again, “Does she kill her kids like in the myth?”

“That’s the thing,” Tenley eagerly replied. “In the wizard version, Medea makes him think that they’re dead. She magically stores their children’s souls in little pieces of gold, and secretly revives both of them after Jason sees their lifeless bodies.”

Her brother shook his head, “That’s cold.”

“He shouldn’t have cheated on her,” Tenley countered with a smile.

Ignoring her, Fitz pointed over to the lake. “Is that Viktor Krum?”

Sure enough, the severe-looking quidditch player was standing shirtless on the shore, wearing nothing except a pair of shorts. They watched him take a deep breath, then dive headfirst into the icy water.

“Must be preparing for the second task,” she commented.

“Oh, right,” Fitz replied. “Are you still… breaking and entering?”

“I’m borrowing Dumbledore’s Pensieve for the afternoon,” she clarified. “How’s your idea working out?”

Looking at the ground, he mumbled, “Flitwick said they’d consider my proposal once my history club reaches ten members.”

“And you have…?”

“Three,” he affirmed. “You, me, and Luna.”

Tenley laughed, “Okay, so more like two.”

He gave her a sour look.

“I guess you’ll just have to join me and my life of crime,” she sighed playfully.

“I just need some more time.”

“Well, you have until next Wednesday,” Tenley smirked.

With the return of the Triwizard Tournament, she would have the perfect window to sneak into the headmaster’s office. Admittedly, this murder mystery had fallen to the bottom on her priority list, but not without her subconscious putting up a fight.

Each night, Dorothy continued to show up in her dreams. Usually, it was only snippets of her walking in the hallway or reading in the library, but other times – she had a lot to say. Always sitting in the forest, leaning up against an aspen tree, Dorothy would tell her about teachers she hated or embarrassing moments or little fights with her friends. Tenley tried to chalk it all up to stress and a vivid imagination, however, that changed when she finally made it back inside the clubhouse.

One afternoon, on her way to the common room, she noticed something odd as she passed the corridor.

The Woman in White wasn’t in her frame.

Instead, in stark contrast, there was a young cherub-faced boy on the swing, attempting to fly higher with the pump of his little legs. Curious, Tenley slowly approached.

“Hello?”

“Hiyuh!” he called back.

“Where is…?”

“She’s out with friends,” the boy explained. “Asked me to keep watch for a few hours… Do you have one of those bracelet things?”

Tenley held up her wrist to show the silver sword wrapped around it.

He dug his feet into the dirt, then leaned forward to inspect it carefully.

Once satisfied, he exclaimed, “That’s the one!” and the portrait door flung open.

“Thanks…” Tenley said as she climbed inside.

She headed straight to the area where she had last seen Dorothy in the clubhouse. Mimicking the dream, Tenley pulled back the corner of the large dagger-patterned rug and tapped her wand on the floorboard. Nothing.

“It’s been decades since I’ve seen someone do that,” a familiar pompous voice called out.

Tenley turned to see the portrait of Medea, looking down her nose at her.

“Yeah? And what exactly did you see?”

The princess pursed her lips, “That was the mudblood’s hiding spot.”

Mudblood. She’d seen that term before… A not-so-nice word for muggle-born.

“How do I open it?”

“I can assure you,” she scoffed. “If you’re looking for a family heirloom, you won’t be finding one in there.”

“Actually, I have other matters to attend to at the moment,” Tenley said coolly.

Condescendingly, the princess replied, “Is that right? No longer taking an interest in your history? Your bloodline?”

“I have an heirloom! It’s just not… with me at the moment…”

“Likely story.”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Tenley grumbled. “Can you just answer my question? How do I open it?”

“A simple spell from a simple mind,” she grimaced. “I only heard it a few times… ‘Tentuhwon.’”

Tenley shrugged, then returned to the exposed wood.

“Ten-tuh-won,” she apprehensively sounded out with a tap of her wand.

The floorboard flew open, sending up a plume of dirt and dust. Tenley coughed and tried to clear the air with the wave of her hand.

She reached inside, first pulling out a thick scroll of parchment, then a hefty drawstring bag that rattled with coins. Sure enough, she loosened the tie, and looked upon a slew of galleons, knuts, and sickles.

Moving to the scroll, she smoothed out the parchment and tried to make sense of the lines of ink. It was a messy log of dates and names and numbers. There was a column for how much each student had bet on a match, and how much they were owed if they won.

Not only was Dorothy the recordkeeper for the underground dueling club, it appeared that she was also the treasurer for their gambling ring. Unlike the Cloak and Dagger ledger, her name was all over this scroll. It looked like Dorothy placed bets on nearly every match.

Creak!

Without warning, the sound of the portrait hole swung open.

Tenley scrambled to her feet with her findings just as the back of Odin’s spikey-head poked into the room. He was leading a stocky figure by the hand through the doorway. Frozen in place, she watched as Odin pulled the curly-haired boy straight into a warm embrace, and then… a passionate kiss.

Losing her grip, the sack of coins slipped from her fingers and clattered to floor.

The two boys jolted upward, then turned in her direction.

Tenley felt the weight of Odin’s heavy-lidded eyes on her, but she was too busy staring at his hand on Graham Appleby’s chest.

“S-sorry,” Tenley mumbled as she knelt down and started gathering up the coins.

Panicked whispers arose from the other side of the room, and she overhead Odin say to Graham, “Go, just go.”

“Are you sure?” the Hufflepuff replied in a low hush.

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. “Go.”

Graham hesitated, then made his way back out of the room.

When Tenley heard the portrait door close, she finally took her eyes off the floor and looked up at Odin. He had slumped onto the couch and was resting his head in his hands.

“You’re not going to obliviate me, are you?” she jested.

With a slight humph, he said, “It crossed my mind.”

Walking over, she sat down next to him.

He sighed deeply, “What are you doing here, Ten?”

“I-” she began, but every explanation sounded lame, so she just held up the scroll and sack of coins.

“Dorothy?”

Tenley nodded. They sat there for a moment until she offered, “How long-”

“Couple years,” he answered. “On and off.”

“I mean… it’s not like… the worst thing.”

He snorted, “Which part?”

Returning a sympathetic smile, she asked, “Have you told anybody?”

Odin shook his head, then said, “But I think Camy has her suspicions.”

“Well, your secret’s safe with me,” Tenley assured. Then, under her breath, she said, “Besides… I’ve got a similar issue.”

His eyebrows lifted as he asked, “Finally gonna tell me who you’ve been hogging this space with?”

“Me?” she exclaimed. “If I hear the word ‘occupied’ one more time…”

“On with it,” Odin urged with a smile.

“Well, speaking of Appleby… I may, potentially, be seeing his friend-”

“If you say Tony-”

“Cedric!” she finished, giving his arm a shove.

He sputtered, “Diggory? Yeah, good luck with that… Isn’t he with Cho?”

“Isn’t Graham with Summer?” she retorted.

He grimaced, “Yeah… that was a fun little surprise.”

“That why you tripped him?”

“I don’t know what came over me… I just saw them together and I… snapped.”

Leaning back into the couch, Tenley muttered, “Tell me about it…”

After a brief silence, Odin nodded to the scroll in her lap, “Find anything good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied, rolling out the parchment. “Looks like Dorothy coordinated the betting pool… and from the look of it, she took home most of the coins.”

He scooted closer to read the handwritten notes, “What are the odds?”

“That’s the thing,” Tenley countered. “She must’ve used arithmancy to know who would win.”

“If that’s the case… everyone on this list has motive.”

Tenley trailed down the page until she got to the last entry, Inkwell vs. Kemp. “Check this out,” she said. “Dorothy bet on herself to win the duel against Cornelia. She was the only one.”

Following her finger, Odin read aloud, “Ninety galleons?”

With a nod, she confirmed, “That’s how much she won.”

He whistled, “That’s a lot of gold.”

“Odin,” she whispered urgently. “Look who lost the most over that match.”

Written in scrawling black ink, they both stared at the name: A. Dumbledore

“That bastard…”

Excitement building, Tenley said, “Could it really be him? He killed her ‘cause he had to shell out a bunch of money?”

“Probably found out she was cheating,” Odin replied, then he shook his head in disgust. “That muggle-loving old fool acting all high and mighty…”

Considering this, she thought back to the note that Fitz had found, ‘He knows’. What if it was referring to the headmaster after all?

“I’ll find out more this week,” she affirmed.

Odin raised an eyebrow at her, and said, “You’re really going to miss your boy’s competition over some cold case?”

“I’d rather save myself the worry,” she replied. “… and wait until the after party.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s say I’m revolted - but happy for you.”

With a laugh, Tenley remarked, “I’m sorry I ruined your date night.”

“I say we blame the Woman in White, and never speak of it again,” he suggested as he stood from the couch.

“Works for me,” she said, following his lead. “I mean, god forbid anyone finds out we have a thing for Hufflepuffs.”

He snickered as they climbed out of the portrait hole.

* * *

“Seventy-two minutes!”

Tenley’s voice echoed off the marble walls of the prefect’s bathroom as Cedric surfaced from the water, gasping for air. On the eve of the second task, they were getting in some last-minute charm practice to ensure that he’d be able to breathe underwater for the entire challenge.

Sitting on the ledge of the pool-sized bath with her calves dipped into the water, Tenley wore her black one-piece swimsuit and had her braids pulled back into a pony-tail. She set aside her book and stopwatch as Cedric swam over.

He shook water from his head, then grinned up at her, “New record?”

“New record,” she affirmed, gently swiping strands of hair away from his eyes. “Although, I think you’ll find the lake to be a bit more uncomfortable.”

Dripping wet, he placed his hands along her thighs, “That’s a tomorrow problem… Join me!”

Feigning reluctance, she lowered herself into the warm suds and into his arms.

She wrapped her legs around him, then leaned back to get a good look at his face. “Don’t forget about the kelpies… and the grindyglows… and the giant squid.”

With light in his grey eyes, he promised, “I’ll be just fine.”

“That’s what you said before you were attacked by a dragon.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to play nurse again,” he teased.

Unamused, she said, “I swear, Cedric, if you get hurt-”

“People swim in the lake all the time!” he countered. “How dangerous can it be? Besides, the real question is, what will I have to ‘recover’?”

“Hmm… something you’ll ‘sorely miss’….” Tenley played along. “How about your Cleansweep Eleven?”

He considered his broomstick for a moment, then shook his head.

“Or… your favorite pair of jeans,” she offered, then ominously added, “Or what if they kidnapped Muffin?”

With a laugh, Cedric said, “Can you imagine? They’re not that mad.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” she muttered, remembering what her mom said about the Games department prioritizing entertainment.

“Ten,” he leveled with her, “Can I get some confidence please?”

Resisting an eye-roll, she placed her hands along his jawline and met his gaze.

“You’ll be great,” she whispered.

Then, Tenley rested her head onto his shoulder and Cedric gingerly pressed his lips against the side of her neck.

It wasn’t until all the bubbles had dissolved from the bath that they parted ways for the evening and snuck back to their respective common rooms. Despite wishing each other a good night’s sleep, she knew Cedric was lying awake, just as she was, thinking about the day ahead. The only difference being that he was blissfully unaware of her plan to sneak into the headmaster’s office. She figured it was best not to add to his stress.

Once Tenley finally succumbed to a state of deep sleep, it seemed like only fifteen minutes before she was awoken by a knock outside her cove.

“Yeah?” she called out, peering through her eyelashes.

Camilla’s black-banged forehead peeked through the curtain. “You’ve got an hour before the second task starts,” she advised. “Better not miss your chance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled back.

Hazel’s voice appeared, “Bes’ of luck, Tenny!”

Tenley raised her hand in acknowledgement, then rubbed her tired eyes as she heard them walk away. Today was the day.

She pulled on her jeans and got ready, grabbing her bag with the collection of memories that she had carefully selected from the Archive. When she finally made it up the winding staircase into the common room, it was completely deserted.

The clock on the mantle said 9:25. Everyone was already gathered down at the lake for the start of the task. Tenley took a moment to consider what she was missing, then quickly shook the thought from her mind.

It was eerie to find no one walking the halls on a Wednesday morning. Wand drawn, she quickly made her way to the west stairwell and up to the second floor. As she passed a suit of armor, she heard a “Psst.”

Doubling back, Tenley peered into the dark alcove and found Fitz crouched behind an iron shield.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” she smirked.

“Filtch’s cat is patrolling the floor,” he hissed back.

Tenley leaned her head out into the hall, and saw the scrawny grey body of Mrs. Norris, slinking around the gargoyle corridor.

Her brother continued, “We need a distraction.”

“It’s a cat, Fitz.”

“She’ll alert Filtch!”

“With a meow?” she said smugly.

His eyes narrowed, “You’re about to break at least a dozen school rules. Can you be serious for once?”

“Correction: we are.” She smiled, “C’mon, we need all the time we can get.”

She strode out of the cubby and headed straight toward the office entrance.

Mrs. Norris tensed, staring at them with wide yellow lamp-like eyes.

Tenley bent down to pet her and cooed, “You’re not going to turn us in, are you?”

All of a sudden, the cat bit her finger and ran towards the stairwell.

Tenley quickly pointed her wand and yelled “Immobulus!”

In mid-pounce, the cat’s entire body froze and hovered a foot above the ground.

“A dozen and one rules,” Tenley grumbled as she shook the stinging pain from her hand. Fitz was staring open-mouthed at the floating cat as she grabbed his arm, “Let’s go!”

Further down the corridor, they landed in front of the large stone gargoyle. Tenley said a silent prayer, then repeated the password she’d heard from her uncle.

“Sugar quill.”

Springing to life, the ugly creature jumped to the side, revealing a narrow archway with a spiral staircase.

She took a deep breath, then ushered Fitz onto the first step.

The stairs began to move, slowly winding them upward until they reached a dark wooden door. Tenley grabbed ahold of it’s ancient-looking handle and cracked it open enough for the two of them to slip inside.

Stepping onto a navy-blue carpet dotted with moons and stars, they entered the large circular room and looked around in awe. In the center was a large claw-footed desk, and on the walls, there were shelves full of books and various trinkets. Faintly, she heard the soft sounds of people snoring. She turned to find at least a dozen portraits of witches and wizards, sleeping soundly in their frames.

“It’s here somewhere,” Tenley mumbled as they parted ways, tip-toeing around the perimeter of the room in separate directions.

While surveying the many possessions along the walls, she spotted the ragged old sorting hat, a pot of smoking incense, and a ruby-crusted sword. There was a small squeaking tortoiseshell box that caught her attention. She reached for the lid, then hesitated when a bright strip of shimmering light appeared next to it.

Tenley turned around to see that Fitz had opened the door of a tall black cabinet that basked him in a silvery-blue glow. She hurried over. Inside, there was a shallow stone basin sitting atop a waist-level pedestal with symbols carved around the edges. The source of the light came from the water rippling and dancing within the Pensieve.

Wasting no time, she quickly reached inside her canvas bag and pulled out five vials filled with a similar silvery-blue liquid. All with handwritten labels, except one smaller glass bottle.

“We may not have enough time for all of these,” she whispered, “Where do we start?”

Without hesitation, Fitz picked up the tiny unlabeled bottle and stated, “The case files.”

He carefully poured the silky substance into the shallow basin of water and it began to swirl faster and faster. As they leaned closer, it was as if they were looking through an airplane window, flying over a sea of evergreen trees. Gently, they dipped their faces into the mixture, and with a sudden lurch, they submerged into a cold black void. Tumbling through the tunnel, they closed in on a sunlit opening until they crash-landed onto a patch of lush green grass.

Tenley and Fitz looked at each other with wide eyes, then got to their feet.

In full color, the crime scene photograph had come to life. They were in a small clearing in the forest, enveloped by a family of thick aspen trees and dense foliage. It was a beautiful spring day. There were at least a dozen people milling about, all in the same uniform of dark purple robes. A flash of light nearly blinded Tenley, and when her vision returned, she saw a witch carrying a boxy old wooden camera, similar to the one she had held in her dream.

With an air of authority, a stern-looking man with a handle-bar mustache walked around, inspecting the scene with a quill behind one ear. Unlike the rest, he wore a tan trench coat and a plain black tie. Every few steps, he would tap his wand on the ground, then scratch a note on a scroll of parchment. Keeping close behind, Tenley and Fitz followed him for a few minutes until they were led to a small team of people huddled together. As they approached, she saw the body of Dorothy Kemp lying at their feet.

Tenley gulped, and averted her eyes. In her dreams, Dorothy had felt so… alive.

“Agent McGrath.”

A middle-aged witch had turned to address the man.

“We need to run more tests,” she continued, “But she’s been strangled, all right.”

“Curse?”

“No signs of magic.”

McGrath slowly circled the victim, then turned his attention to the prominent aspen trunk closest to the body. The black etchings of ‘10:1’ were clearly visible.

“What about the tree?” the agent asked.

“Carved by hand, sir.”

“Get her back to the ministry,” he called out to the crew. “I want this entire area picked apart. Any trace of magic, I want to hear about it.”

Within seconds, the sun was extinguished.

The grass under their feet morphed into a hardwood floor, and suddenly, Tenley and Fitz were standing in the corner of a dark torch-lit classroom. The same handle-bar mustached man was sitting at a circular table, reading his handwritten notes until a tall and lanky Gryffindor boy walked in the room. He had short auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Offering him a chair, the man diplomatically said, “Thank you for joining me today. My name is Durland McGrath, and I’m the lead MCI agent on this case. Albus, is it?”

“Indeed, sir.”

Tenley shared a look with her brother.

“Can you describe your relationship with the deceased?”

“We had a few classes together,” young Dumbledore responded, arms politely folded in front of him on the table.

“Is that all?” McGrath pressed.

“It is.”

Surveying the sincerity in the boy’s face, the MCI agent leaned back in his chair. “Can you tell me where you got that bracelet then?”

Instinctively, Dumbledore touched the silver dagger wrapped around his wrist.

Fitz stepped forward to get a good look at it while Tenley’s fingers found her own identical band.

“This?” he finally said, lifting his hand. “Something I picked up in Diagon Alley.”

“I find it interesting that it’s something you and Miss Kemp shared.”

“Did we?” He casually commented. “Similar taste, I guess.”

Bristling, McGrath said, “In fact, it appears to be a common factor between you and multiple students I’ve talked to.”

“It’s reassuring to know I’m keeping up with the latest fashion trend,” Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye.

McGrath gave him a stern stare. “Your statement says you were in the forest on Friday afternoon. Did you come across anyone?”

“Not a soul.”

The MCI agent leaned forward across the table and whispered, “Would you be willing to put that to the test of a little Veritaserum?”

“No, sir,” he stated.

“So, you have something to hide?”

“No, sir,” Dumbledore repeated. “Surely, you can understand. I find it unethical to use that kind of invasion on anyone.”

“Yes, well, it’s in your legal right to decline,” McGrath grumbled. As the room began to dissolve into darkness, his fading voice said, “That’s enough for today. Don’t go far. We may still have a few questions.”

As the scene shifted, the setting remained the same. However, Dumbledore was replaced by a tawny-haired girl by the name of Greta. She could barely get two words out without devolving into a pool of tears.

“I don’t understand,” she gurgled. “Why Dottie?”

Eventually, the girl was led out of the room and the interrogations continued.

One by one, the MCI agent rotated through an array of students who all gave relatively mundane accounts of their connection to Dorothy as well as their whereabouts on the day of her murder. However, Tenley’s attention was piqued whenever the Slytherins were mentioned.

One young Hufflepuff in particular leaned across the table and whispered, “I saw it! Inkwell challenged her to a duel!”

“Called her a mudblood,” another confirmed.

“I heard Walt had to hold her back,” the latest Gryffindor gossiped. “Or else she would’ve hexed her right then and there.”

Hyper-aware that it was getting late, Tenley was about to tell her brother to call it quits when the memory went black again. This time, when the classroom reappeared, three students dressed in green-lined robes sat across the table from McGrath. Tenley recognized blonde Walter Nightengale, haughty Cornelia Inkwell, and then, the sullen face of Phineas Black Junior.

The young woman had her arms folded across her chest, blatantly annoyed.

“How long’re you gonna hold us?”

McGrath replied, “Not until we get a good idea of where you were last Friday.”

“I can’t help that you don’t like my answer,” Cornelia snipped back.

The blonde boy placed his hand atop of hers. Meanwhile, Phineas’ head was lowered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Miss Inkwell, how did you know the victim?”

“I didn’t,” she asserted.

“Then why do we have multiple reports of you threatening Miss Kemp?”

Wearing a sour face, Cornelia stayed silent.

Walter spoke up and said, “She was a cheat, okay?”

Eyes shut tight, Phineas flinched at his words, which did not go unnoticed by Agent McGrath.

“Mr. Black, do you have something to add?”

“I...” his raspy voice shook, “I – I was there.”

Cornelia quickly cut in. “He saw me talking to Kemp. Isn’t that right, Fin?”

He nodded at his feet.

McGrath’s eyes narrowed, “And how would you describe the interaction?”

“Civil,” Walter answered.

“I was asking, Mr. Black.”

“They had nothing to do with it,” Phineas said under his breath.

“Speak up!”

“They had nothing to do with it!” He howled, his dark eyes boring into the agent. Then, quietly he added, “It- it’s all my-”

Suddenly, the door flung open and a pale man strode in with black hair and a pointed beard.

“What’s this about?” he demanded.

“Headmaster, please,” McGrath sighed. “We’re conducting an investigation-”

“Not with my son, you aren’t. Out!”

The words rang in Tenley’s ears as her vision blurred. Suddenly, she was yanked upward, somersaulting through icy darkness until her feet landed back on the starry blue carpet. She blinked a few times to get her groundings, then saw her brother standing next to her, steadying himself.

“Well?” Tenley offered.

Fitz smiled wide, then said, “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she sighed.

“The headmaster’s son practically confessed!”

“What about Dumbledore?”

Thinking back to the dueling club, Tenley considered all the gambling money that he had lost. It also unsettled her how good he was at lying to McGrath…

“Sure, that bracelet was a weird coincidence,” Fitz acknowledged, “But we’ve got far more evidence against Black. His handkerchief’s stitched with the same numbers that were carved onto the tree!”

“How’d he do it?” she challenged. “What’s his motive?”

With a groan, he said, “Is this some weird loyalty thing with your house again? What’s got you defending Phineas Black!?”

A loud snore erupted from above them, along with mutterings of someone waking from a deep sleep. They looked up to see the subject of one of the portraits yawning and stretching his arms out wide. The wizard was pale with dark features, a wide-brimmed hat, and the same pointed beard that they had just seen, moments ago, in the Pensieve.

“And who might you be?” the man asked, peering down at them. “Surely, Albus wouldn’t allow students in here unsupervised.”

Tenley overheard her brother mumble in shock, “Phineas Nigellus Black…”

Sure enough, they’d come face-to-face with the painted version of the former headmaster… and the father of their prime suspect.

Without missing a beat, she called back, “We wanted to talk to you.”

“Me?” he sputtered. “Shouldn’t you be watching the Triwizard Tournament?”

Ignoring the question, Tenley continued, “What do you know about the Dorothy Kemp murder?”

“Oh please,” the man scoffed, “That’s what this is about? The girl’s been dead a long time. It’s time to let it go.”

“Your son killed her!” Fitz piped up.

“My son is a disappointment in many ways,” he muttered. “But I can assure you, not in that case.”

“Why’d you interfere with the investigation then?” Tenley argued. “Why not let them find the killer?”

“It was disrupting my school!” he exclaimed. “So, I closed off the forest and finished out the year without the ministry breathing down our necks.”

“What happened to Phineas?” Fitz asked.

“From what I hear?” The portrait sighed heavily, then blustered. “He didn’t make anything of himself! Got brainwashed by the ‘Muggle Rights’ movement and left the family… Now he’s just a drunk old fool getting kicked out of manky pubs.”

Fitz perked up, “He’s still alive?”

“Still alive,” the former headmaster repeated. “Oh, he’s still alive alright. In fact! Aberforth called on Albus a few weeks ago. Asked what to do with him.”

“Aberforth…” Tenley said under her breath, then called back, “Is that the bartender at the Hog’s Head?”

“The very one,” he sneered. “Said he attacked a student. I must be rolling in my grave.”

Tenley stared open-mouthed as she processed his words. Then, she whispered excitedly to Fitz, “It was him… He’s the drunk!”

“What are you talking about?” her brother mumbled back.

Tenley quickly addressed the portrait again, “Do you know anything about a silver ring with a sphinx on it?”

The painted man squinted down at her, then muttered, “Black family heirloom. I never should’ve given it to Junior. Lost it before he even graduated.”

“Is it dangerous?” she urged.

“Dangerous?” he questioned, brow furrowed. “Why would it be dangerous?”

Turning back to her brother, she hurriedly explained, “There’s this pub in Hogsmeade where the dueling club meets and this man came at me last time, ranting about how I need to destroy the ring that I found in the forest-”

“Slow down, slow down!” Fitz said. “Dueling club?”

Too amped up to think straight, she held up her wrist with the dagger wrapped around and replied, “I’ll tell you everything later. How much time do we have left?”

Eyes wide, Fitz stared at his sister’s bracelet – the very same one he’d just seen on teenage Dumbledore. Tenley looked to the clock on the wall to find that over forty-five minutes had passed since the start of the second task.

“We need to watch his memory,” she declared, then rushed back over to the Pensieve.

“You definitely shouldn’t be using that!” the portrait yelped as Tenley carefully used her wand to extract the stream of silvery case file memories from the basin and back into the small glass bottle. Then, she dug through her canvas bag until she found the vial with the label that read P. Black Jr. (21/10/1895).

Holding it out in front of her, she was in the process of uncorking the vial when a glimpse of her dad’s blue eyes appeared in the swirling water.

Tenley hesitated.

“Did you see that?” she breathed.

Still reeling, Fitz faintly said, “What?”

“I swear I just saw…” she replied, peering lower and lower into the glassy surface until her nose nearly grazed the water. The boyish face of Gerry Wright swam into view, and then, she was falling back through the void.

Tenley’s feet landed on grey tile.

Quickly, she stepped out of the way of an oncoming traffic of people, rolling suitcases behind them. Rows of tan leather seats were lined in front of a wall of windows where large airplanes could be seen sitting on a tarmac. In a seat nearby, reading a newspaper, Tenley spotted the long white hair and beard of old Albus Dumbledore. Rather than his typical wizard robes, he wore a turtleneck under a brown polyester suit jacket, and perhaps appeared more youthful than present day.

As a young couple passed by, he looked up from his paper.

It took Tenley a moment to recognize them as her parents. Gerry was clean-shaven and wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt that clung to his lean muscles. Next to him, Reyna could not have been more than twenty years old. Her thin frame was draped in a long-sleeved yellow dress that complimented the gold in her black skin.

“Pardon me,” Dumbledore called out. “Gerald Wright, is it?”

Her dad turned in surprise, “That’s me.”

Wide-eyed, Reyna gave her future husband a warning look.

“I’m an admirer of your anthropology work,” the old man continued. “Care to sit?”

Reyna put out her hand and nervously said, “We really should be going.”

“I’m afraid I must insist,” he replied, opening his suit jacket to show a wand handle.

Gripping tight to Gerry, she gritted her teeth, “What do you want from us?”

“I want to help you.”

Suspicious, she repeated, “Help us? Help us how?”

“Your brother asked me to find you,” he affirmed.

Her copper eyes lit up, “Where is he? Is he okay?”

Dumbledore waved to the two chairs in front of him. Cautiously, they both sat as he said, “My name is Albus Dumbledore.”

Puzzled, she said, “Like from Hogwarts?”

“Indeed.”

Gerry looked back and forth between Reyna and the old man, “Where?”

“It’s a school,” she whispered back.

Observing the two of them, Dumbledore offered, “Not many people know of our world, Gerald. I’m sure it has come as quite a shock to you.”

“You could say that,” he snorted.

“But I understand you’ve been studying magic for a long time.”

“It’s been the center of my doctoral thesis, yes. How the belief of it has shaped our history.”

Dumbledore smiled, “And that’s what led you to Greece?”

A staticky voice came over the intercom and announced the boarding of a plane.

“We don’t have time for this,” Reyna leaned forward. “Why are you here?”

“Forgive me,” he said. “My curiosity can be a detriment at times. I’m here out of concern for your safety. You see, it only took me a couple hours to find your location.”

“We’re leaving,” she affirmed. “They’ll forget about us.”

“You should know better than anyone, Reyna,” he replied somberly. “He will not stop until he has what he wants.”

“It’s gone,” Gerry chimed in. “Went up in flames with the rest of the building.”

The headmaster surveyed the young man. “I’m sure you understand how valuable such an artifact-”

“Of course! Historians have tried to prove the existence of the Fleece for centuries. I’m sure the same is true in… um… your world.”

“But you’re certain it was the Golden Fleece?”

“A piece of it, yes,” Gerry affirmed. “And one could argue the most important piece… the map.”

“Forgive me,” the headmaster apologized. “A map of what?”

Gerry turned to Reyna for guidance.

“According to our family lore,” she explained, “The map is supposed to lead to objects that ensure immortality.”

Dumbledore considered this, then said, “I see why this would be of great importance to him… And so, it’s essential that you two are guarded by the most powerful charms we have.”

With a grimace, Reyna shook her head. “I want nothing to do with it! I’m done.”

“It’s not so simple, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore replied with sympathy in his blue eyes. “Even if you no longer have this map, Voldemort does not take kindly to betrayal. As long as he lives, your family will remain a target.”

Reyna rested her head in her hands as Gerry placed his arm around her. Tenley heard him whisper faintly in her ear, “We’ll be okay.”

“Go to the mountains,” the headmaster advised. “Live your lives. The Order of the Phoenix will always do its part to protect you.”

Tenley suddenly felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see Fitz’ alarmed face, holding out his wristwatch. She didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, but one thing was clear, their hour was almost up.

The two of them submerged from the memory and landed back in front of the stone pedestal of the Pensieve. They quickly gathered their things, shut the cabinet door, and headed for the exit as they heard the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black call after them, “The headmaster will hear about this!”

Back out in the hallway, Filtch’s cat was nowhere to be seen.

Fitz declared, “We gotta get far from here fast.”

They ran down the west staircase and ducked around the corner of a corridor, just as they heard the first rumblings of students making their way back through the Entrance Hall. As a group of third-years passed by them, they seamlessly merged into the crowd, and followed everyone into the Great Hall for lunch.

Joining her at the nearly empty Slytherin table, Fitz launched into a slew of questions. “Do you think Dad really found the Golden Fleece? Wasn’t it weird to see them so young? Oh yeah… and why do you have the same bracelet as Dumbledore?”

“Shh…” Tenley lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t have said anything… but I guess you were bound to find out even-”

Cass’ large body thudded down next to Tenley as he exclaimed, “How’d it go?!”

The rest of her friends were close behind, filling in around them.

Wearing a wide grin, she looked around the table and said, “You guys won’t believe what we found out.”

“Well, wait until you hear our news,” Odin said ominously.

Tenley’s face fell, “What happened? Is everyone alright?”

“I’d say so!’ Hazel beamed. “Although Potter and Diggory are now tied for first.”

“Really? First place!” It took every ounce of her discipline not to scan the room for Cedric. Instead, Tenley leaned forward and said, “Tell me everything.”

Camilla jumped in, “So they had an hour to save the person that means most to them, right? Like, literally, they kidnapped Fleur’s little sister and held her at the bottom of the lake.”

“They had to recover a person?”

As Camilla continued to set the scene, Tenley wracked her brain, trying to guess who they would’ve picked for Cedric. His parents were the obvious choice, but then, there was his best friend, Sulley… or was he closer with Graham?

“Back up, back up,” she finally lost patience and cut in. “Who did the other champions have to save?”

“You know Fred and George’s younger brother? That’s Potter’s best friend,” Camilla explained. “And then Krum ended up rescuing his date from the ball. What’s her name? Granger?”

Attempting to sound casual, Tenley prompted, “And… uh… Diggory?”

“Who do yuh think?” Hazel snickered.

Tenley’s eyes shifted to Odin, who was staring intently at her.

Oddly enough, his dark expression seemed to be filled with both humor and… pity?

Her heart dropped into her stomach a millisecond before she heard Hazel respond.

“It was Cho, of course!”

A high-pitched ringing filled Tenley’s ears, drowning out all conversation happening around her. Blankly staring ahead, the second task began to materialize in her mind as if she were there.

Cedric surfaces from the lake, holding tight to Cho’s petite frame. On shore, he caresses her perfect diamond-shaped face and gently swipes the sleek black hair out of her eyes. As she takes her first breath of fresh air, Cho gazes up at her knight in shining armor, or rather, a wet bare-chested Cedric. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

The person he’d miss most.

Sickened, Tenley stood and quietly excused herself from the table.

Hurriedly making her way out of the Great Hall, she stumbled into a crowd of rowdy Hufflepuffs pouring through the entrance of their common room. She spotted Cedric in the middle, hair tousled, grinning ear-to-ear with a towel around his shoulders.

Tenley’s lip quivered, and she felt a lump form in the back of her throat. The sight of him only rubbed salt in the wound. She quickly diverted towards the dungeon when she heard her brother’s voice amid the distant celebrations.

“Ten! Wait up!”

Already at the bottom of the steps, she heard his feet patter after her. She turned toward him and gave him a stony stare.

“We’ve still got to talk about the memories,” he said earnestly.

Closing her eyes, Tenley pinched the bridge of her nose. “Later, Fitz.”

“What happened? One second you were fine and now-”

“I’ve got a lot to think about,” she cut him off and continued on down the hall.

He followed and said, “At least tell me what you mean by dueling club.”

“Listen, I just need a few hours. I’ll meet you by the Woman in White after dinner.”

Confused, he questioned, “Where’s that?”

Tenley sighed, then pulled her brother over to the clubhouse corridor. She waved to the painting at the end. The framed woman, sitting on her swing, politely waved back.

“After dinner, okay?”

Brow furrowed, Fitz nodded hesitantly as she darted past him.

Back in her dorm, Tenley pulled back the curtain of her cove and was immediately confronted by the overgrown garden of shimmering blue roses. Without another thought, she strode over and flung the flower pot off the windowsill, sending soil and shards of terracotta across her floor.

In the remnants of petals and thorns, she caught sight of the silver sphinx ring still threaded with string.

Picking the necklace up off the ground, Tenley crawled into bed, buried her face into her pillow, and let out a muffled sob. Hot tears spilled from her scrunched eyes and seeped into her sheets as she clutched the ring tight to her chest.

Something to remember the day by, Cedric had said, but now, she was only reminded of his lies. Clearly, Cho played a more pivotal part in his life than he had let on. Why else would she have been selected? Surely, the tournament organizers had used a spell to determine the most important person in each champion’s life. There was no way around it. If he truly had no feelings for Cho, like he promised, she wouldn’t have even been an option at all.

The silver gradually grew hot in her hands, and with a sniffle, she looked down at the engraving of the winged-lion-woman.

“Why’d I believe him?” she whimpered softly.

Then, through swollen eyes, she saw the head of the sphinx… wink?

Tenley sat up, held the ring closer to her face, and asked, “Can you hear me?”

Suddenly, the creature’s mouth opened. It revealed a tiny black hole that stretched wider and wider until it filled the entire ring’s surface with a circular television-like screen. Without warning, Tenley felt her body leave her bed as she was pitched headfirst into a whirlpool of technicolor.

When her feet finally hit dirt, Tenley slowly turned to take in her surroundings. She was in a field at dusk, standing between two rows of crops that stretched far into the distance. The greenery stood as tall as her head, and on closer inspection, columns of purple grapes hung from their branches. The setting sun streamed through the leaves, casting everything in a burnt orange glow.

Along with the soft breeze, she heard the sound of hushed voices.

Tenley knelt down. Peeking through the grapevines, she saw a man lying on his back, hands resting behind his chin-length dirty-blonde hair. His tanned muscular body was draped in white cloth that hung off one shoulder.

“Tomorrow,” he breathed. “Come tomorrow, we’ll have the rest of our lives to be together.”

“He intends for you to fail,” a woman coolly replied.

Although her face was obscured by shadow, Tenley could see a head of dense black curls lying on the man’s chest.

“There’s no need to worry,” he assured. “What could be worse than fire-breathing bulls or stone soldiers?”

“The basilisk,” she mused. “I heard him say you’re to slay it.”

He hesitated, then cleared his throat, “The one guarding the Fleece?”

“Mmhmm,” she confirmed.

His face turned grim, “That may be a challenge.”

“Then it’s a good thing I brewed a sleeping draught.”

Surprised, he looked down at her, “Will that work?”

She lifted her head and peered up at him. In the orange light, Tenley recognized the woman’s dark brown skin and high cheek bones.

“It must,” Medea said, reaching up to cup his face in her hand. “It’s the only way.”

“Thank the gods that the ocean brought me to you.”

“I am yours, Jason,” she whispered. “Please do not forsake me.”

Against the top of her head, he murmured, “I would never dream of it, my love. It would take far more than a basilisk to keep us apart… Come away with me.”

Startled, Medea said, “Pardon?”

“We’ll sail away from Colchis. You, me, and the Golden Fleece… And once we return to Greece, I’ll take you as my wife.”

There was a rustle of wind as the weight of his words sunk in, then quietly she settled back underneath his chin and uttered, “I am yours.”

Before Tenley knew it, darkness invaded the scene and she was catapulted backwards. Within seconds, she awoke on her bed, breathing heavy.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered, staring back at the ring. “A memory?”

The silver sphinx nodded.

“Whose? Medea’s?”

There was another nod.

“I’m losing it,” Tenley mumbled. “Next, you’re gonna start speaking to me.”

She hesitated, eyeing the ring, but the engraved creature stayed still and silent.

Wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, Tenley lifted the string above her head and lowered the sphinx back around her neck.

“What else can you show me?” she murmured down to the ring.

When nothing happened, Tenley stood and observed the broken pot of flowers strewn across her floor. With her wand, she began to clean up the mess while replaying the scene in her head. Despite the pretty promises that she heard Jason make to Medea, she already knew that the princess’ story ended in betrayal.

With an edge to her voice, Tenley shook her head and muttered.

“Men…”

* * *

“How could you not tell me about this?!” Fitz exclaimed.

The two of them were sitting cross-legged on the clubhouse rug near Dorothy’s secret compartment in the floor. Over the last hour, Tenley had explained the full Cloak and Dagger Society, including the bracelet, the ledger, and the gambling pool.

“I couldn’t! There was that whole ‘your word is your bond’ thing…” she replied. “Speaking of… I wonder how I’m gonna get around that…”

Curious, Fitz pressed, “What kind of secret did you give them?”

“Dad’s blood status.”

“Ten!” he scolded. “You heard McGonagall. That can’t get out!”

Now knowing the strained history between the magic and non-magic worlds, Tenley better understood the sensitivity around hiring a muggle to teach young witches and wizards.

“Relax,” she said. “I’ll figure something out… we’ve still got a week before our next Hogsmeade trip.”

“Do you think Phineas will be there? Should we talk to him?”

“And say what?” she smirked. “‘Excuse me, sir, we have reason to believe that you’re a murderer’?”

“He’s our best lead! What if we can get him to confess?”

“Or, he could just try to wring my neck again…” she countered. “Do you think he wants to destroy the ring because it connects him to the crime scene?”

“Why else?” Fitz said, then added, “I still don’t get why it wasn’t found until now. I mean, we saw McGrath pick apart that clearing.”

Tenley shrugged, “Maybe the sphinx will show me another vision.”

“Vision? That’s what you’re calling it?”

“Listen, you weren’t there,” she explained. “I was sitting in my bed, minding my own business when the ring opened a portal and transported me to this vineyard with Medea-”

“You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?”

“What about the floorboard?” she said, pointing to the secret compartment. “How else would I have known this was here? It must’ve been the ring interfering with my dreams!”

Fitz’ forehead wrinkled, “I admit, it’s weird, but… Why would this Black family heirloom show you a vision of Medea?”

Behind them, a cool voice called out, “Is there a reason I keep hearing my name?”

Tenley gave her brother a grin and whispered, “We could ask her.”

Then, she stood and walked over to the painted Princess of Colchis. Fitz’ footsteps followed.

“Fitz, Medea. Medea, Fitz,” she said, introducing him to the portrait.

The regal woman’s lips were pursed as she observed them both. The image of her face was uncanny to the shadowed memory she’d seen a few hours prior.

Open-mouthed, Fitz stared up at her, “She looks just like… Mom.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say she’s not as loving,” Tenley muttered back. She pulled her necklace up out of her shirt collar and held up the sphinx ring to Medea’s copper eyes. “Do you recognize this at all?”

“Should I?” she said dully.

“Well… I mean, I saw you-”

“I am not her,” she interjected. “I am her portrait, and I must say, if that ring ever belonged to her, she must’ve lost both her taste and her mind.”

Tenley sighed, “And I suppose you still won’t tell me what you know about the Shacklebolts?”

“Not until I see an heirloom,” the portrait replied.

“How about a gold coin with two faces?”

Medea’s eyes widened, “If it’s what I think it is… Show it to me.”

“Still working on it,” she grumbled.

Fitz pulled Tenley to the side and whispered, “What do you think that’s gonna accomplish, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” she retorted. “Did we not watch the same memory this morning? We’ve been in hiding, Fitz. Our entire lives, and it’s all because of this Fleece. Shouldn’t we know everything we can about it?”

“And you trust what this painting has to say? Let’s just ask Mom and Dad.”

Tenley snorted, “When has that ever worked? Listen. Dad lied. That map they were talking about – it was never destroyed - and Dumbledore thinks he has it.”

Fitz raised an eyebrow at her. “You think our dad, Gerald Wright – the same guy who couldn’t even lie about the Easter bunny - is hiding the Golden Fleece?”

Tenley nodded, “He practically admitted it to me the other day! He doesn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

“Let’s pretend for a moment that what you’re saying is true,” Fitz stated. “Our parents ran away together with the Golden Fleece and have been hiding from the wizarding world… Why on earth would they choose to come back? For us to be here?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “All I know is that they’re afraid of Voldemort returning.”

“In the airport, Dumbledore said something about betrayal. What was that about?”

She gave a shrug. “No telling, but if he does return, it sounds like our family would be first on his hit list…”

“That’s reassuring,” Fitz muttered.

“I need Dad’s lucky coin,” she affirmed. “It’s our best chance of learning more.”

Fitz raised his chin and said, “In that case, I want to talk to Phineas Black.”

She hesitated, then rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll take you to the Hog’s Head, but don’t blame me when he bites your head off.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she repeated, then eyed her brother with an air of pride. “Look at you making ultimatums. C’mon, it’s getting late.”

As they made their way out of the portrait hole, they heard the gentle voice of the Woman in White, “Excuse me.”

Both Fitz and Tenley turned to look at the painted woman in the white sundress.

“I have a message from your friend,” she offered to Tenley. “He asked for you to meet here tomorrow morning before breakfast.”

“Tell him I’m busy,” she said bitterly, then turned on her heel and headed straight across the hall. At the sound of the password, the stones along the dungeon wall shifted to reveal the dark tunnel with the soft green glow at the end.

Fitz called out, “What friend?”

“Nobody,” she grumbled as the wall closed behind her.

For the next week, the second task was all anybody could talk about. In low voices, people discussed Potter’s heroism for saving both his best friend and Fleur’s little sister from the bottom of the lake.

Tenley bristled.

That couldn’t have been Cedric.

No, he was solely focused on saving his precious Cho.

The whispers around school about the happy couple didn’t help either. She overheard girls gush about how they longed to trade places with the pretty Ravenclaw. It took all of her self-control not to snap back. Tenley wanted them to know that Cedric had chosen her, but even she couldn’t say that for certain anymore.

Whenever she caught a glimpse of him in the halls, Tenley quickly turned away. It was too painful to look at him, and yet… she missed him. She couldn’t help but wonder how he did on his Ancient Runes assignment or if the Holyhead Harpies won their last game. He was the first person she thought to tell anything to, like when she got caught sleeping in History of Magic, or when she saw a robin outside of the library window. It felt good to have someone who cared about the little details.

All she had to do was to send him a message, to talk to him, but one creeping thought kept holding her back. A fear that their next conversation would be their last.

Once it came time for their weekly Potions lesson, Tenley was finally forced into close quarters with him. Entering the dark classroom, she felt her skin grow hot under his gaze. Tenley itched to look at him, to convey the hurt and confusion she was feeling, but she kept her eyes straight ahead as she took her seat and began setting up her station.

“Miss Wright.”

She jolted up at the sound of Professor Snape’s sharp tone.

“You have a message from the headmaster,” he said through thin lips.

Her heart plummeted to the floor as Snape handed her a small scroll.

Shakily, she unrolled the parchment to reveal thin slanty handwriting that read:

Dear Tenley, I was surprised to hear that you share in my delight for sugar quills.
Please join me in my office on Saturday at 8pm.

Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore

“We’re dead,” Fitz said in a higher pitch than usual.

Tenley settled onto the bench next to him and his quirky blonde friend while he continued to scan the note from Dumbledore in distress.

“It only has my name on it,” she said grimly. “Maybe Black left you out of it.”

He gave a gulp, then offered, “I’ll go with you.”

“How noble of you,” Tenley smirked, then waved away. “No, no, it was my plan.”

“What are you gonna say?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Let’s see…” she mused. “‘Headmaster, I accidentally stumbled past your gargoyles and fell into the Pensieve.”

Fitz’ eyes gleamed with sympathy.

“Don’t look at me like that, Fitz,” she said, shoving his shoulder. “I didn’t want to be here in the first place, remember? If they kick me out, it’ll be a point in my favor.”

It wasn’t entirely true. Tenley had grown fond of Hogwarts, and in the back of her mind, she knew it would be difficult to say goodbye to her friends. However, she didn’t see any plausible ways to talk herself out of this one.

Luna’s soft voice chimed, “You could claim it was a panjareen possession.”

They both raised an eyebrow at the girl.

“Harmless little phantoms,” she explained, “but they do cause trouble.”

With the clap of her hands, Tenley stood and said, “Well, I appreciate the input, but I’ve got to get to class.”

Shuffling her way between the house tables, she heard her brother call out, “Ten!”

She looked back at his freckled face.

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” he affirmed.

His optimism made her heart twinge. She gave him a nod in return, then headed to her double afternoon of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Moody was in a rare mood.

Not only did he compliment Tenley on her latest paper, but at one point, she could’ve sworn that he smiled at her, which was far more unsettling than his usual grimace. In fact, it had been a few weeks since he’d last berated her in front of the class… not since she’d overheard him talking to Dumbledore.

While packing up her bag to leave, Moody’s gruff voice called out. “Wright, stay back a moment.”

Hazel gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving her side.

Apprehensively, Tenley approached his desk while the last student filed out of the room. “Yes, Professor?”

“I heard about the stunt you pulled last week,” he grunted.

Her cheeks grew warm as she hung her head.

With a humph, Moody muttered, “Risking expulsion for information on your family… Reckless.”

Twisting her lips to the side, she held her tongue.

“…when you could’ve just asked.”

Tenley looked up, staring into his singular beetle-like eye while the magical blue one whirred around in its socket. “Sir?”

“I told you that I knew about your grandparents, didn’t I?” he said combatively.

“But… you said, I couldn’t speak-”

“To anyone else, Wright,” he cut in. “Keep up!”

Speechless, she scrambled for words, “I… well…”

“What did I say during your first class? You’ve got to be careful of your source. The headmaster’s not going to give you what you want.”

“Which is?” she asked feebly.

“The truth!” he raved. “Not when he’s after what your dad has in his pocket.”

Her mind reeled. Clearly, Moody was referring to the Golden Fleece, but she was under the impression that he was after it.

“I – I heard you,” she stuttered. “You said… you’d steal it from him.”

“You heard me telling Dumbledore what he wants to hear,” Moody asserted, then growled. “Don’t think I didn’t see you and Diggory under that table.”

Tenley’s eyes grew wide.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Now, listen carefully, the headmaster must not get access to that map.”

“Wh-why?”

“He will use it for his own gain,” he said ominously. “I tell you this because you are his next target.”

“What?!” she sputtered.

“You must stay diligent! He will pry and press you for everything you know about the Golden Fleece.”

“But, I don’t-”

“In return for your discretion, I will give you the answers you’ve been looking for.”

She paused, then raised an eyebrow at him, “Like?”

“Like what your parents have been running from,” he replied darkly. “Now, go. Tell no one.”

Head spinning, she left the classroom and walked back to the dungeons in a daze. Moody had confirmed her own suspicions: the headmaster was not to be trusted. Was Dumbledore really going to question her about the Fleece? Not that she knew much, but even so, it sounded like her silence this weekend would earn her information about her family.

That night, Tenley played blackjack with her friends at their regular table.

As Hazel dealt cards to each player, she said, “What’d Moody want from yuh?”

“Oh, just to reprimand me for sneaking into Dumbledore’s office,” she said casually.

“They can’t expel you,” Cass assured. “Your dad’s a professor!”

Tenley shrugged, “We’ll see on Saturday.”

“You’re still going to Hogsmeade, right?” Camilla asked as she tapped the table to signal that she wanted another card.

“Yeah, about that…”

They all took their eyes off their hand to look at her.

“I messed up,” Tenley admitted. “I told Fitz about the club.”

There was a collective gasp as Cass called out, “You what?!”

She started rambling, “We were talking about the murder, and the drunk at the bar, and it just… slipped.”

Hazel sighed and shook her head, “Tenny…”

“What do I do?” she asked urgently, eyes darting around. “How do I fix it?”

There was silence, then Camilla spoke up. “He has to join.”

“Will that work? What happens to my secret?”

All heads turned to Avery, who’s auburn head was hiding behind a nameless book.

“Ave,” Hazel prompted.

Slowly lowering her book, the pixie-cut girl averted their gaze as she answered, “The secret’s out… but once he’s sworn in, the ledger should protect it again.”

Pulse rising, Tenley replied, “What do you mean by it’s out?”

“It’s visible,” she mumbled. “Anyone can read it.”

Tenley leveled with them all, “Listen. This is important. No one can know.”

“Then we won’t look,” Odin declared. He turned to challenge the table. “Will we?”

There were nods around the circle, then Cass put his arm around her shoulders, “Don’t worry. We’ve got you, Ten.”

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. Anxiously awaiting the Hogsmeade trip and her meeting with the headmaster, Tenley only wanted to get it over with.

The not knowing was the worst part.

How would Phineas Black react when he saw her again, and was Moody right? Would Dumbledore question her about the Fleece? What would her punishment be?

Only time would tell.

As for her brother, he was stoked.

“So, all I have to do is write down a secret?” he whispered fervently as they walked to town that Saturday morning. Despite the dull gray day, they could feel the subtle warmth of the early spring sun.

She nodded, “And it has to be good. The ledger won’t accept anything less.”

“I’ve never dueled before,” he admitted.

“Now, that’s not much of a secret,” she smirked. “Just don’t use outside objects. I made that mistake on my first go.”

As they continued down the path, she heard him say under his breath, “Outside objects?”

The club wasn’t scheduled to meet until the afternoon, so they had time to explore. Tenley followed her brother into Dervish and Banges. They tested out a display of binoculars, advertised to magically focus on what each user values most. When Tenley put the device to her eyes, it directed her towards the storefront window, then zoomed in on Cedric’s face. He was across the street, chatting with friends right outside of Honeydukes. Flustered, Tenley quickly returned the binoculars to their display.

Next, her brother tried to lead her to the candy store, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him further down the road.

“Let’s grab a drink first,” she suggested, pointing to the Three Broomsticks ahead.

When they entered, she immediately noticed that it was far more well-kept than the pub she was used to, and far busier. Nearly every table was filled with students with frothy mugs in front of them. Removing their cloaks, Tenley and Fitz found a spot at a small high-top in the corner.

“Save my seat,” she said, turning towards the bar.

She joined the crowd of bodies, waiting their turn to order from the witch manning the counter. While reading the chalkboard menu on the wall, Tenley suddenly felt a familiar presence close behind her. Among the loud chatter, Cedric whispered low in her ear, “You’re avoiding me.”

Chills prickled across her skin.

Daring not to look, she stared straight ahead and stayed silent.

“Can we talk?” he urged. “Please?”

A pang hit her chest, and she shut her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and forget that the second task ever happened… but it did.

Cedric tried again, “Listen, Ten, I had no idea they were going to pick Cho.”

“And that’s supposed to make it better?” she finally said, voice shaking. “Why was she even an option?”

“I’m sure it’s because she was my date to the ball,” he reasoned.

“Was Potter’s date down there?” she countered in a low hush, “Or Fleur’s?”

When there was no reply, she turned to face Cedric head on. He was gazing down at her with a pained expression. Giving a nod, she motioned for him to follow her, then she slinked her way through the crowd to the back door. It led to an empty alleyway where she began to pace back and forth.

As he joined her outside, Cedric’s voice was low and urgent. “Tell me what to say.”

“You like her,” Tenley bit back. “Admit it.”

He shook his head and corrected, “I care about her. We’re friends. That’s it.”

“‘The person you’d miss most in the world’,” Tenley quoted with a dark smile. “How could anyone compete with that?”

“There’s no competition,” Cedric affirmed. Placing his hands alongside her arms, he stopped her from pacing. Then, he leaned down, and tried to meet her eye. “What do I need to do?”

She gave a slight shrug. “There’s a lot going on right now,” she mumbled, “Maybe some time would be good.”

He dropped his hands, then stated, “Time away from me, you mean.”

She nodded at her feet.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” he said sullenly.

Without warning, her eyes began to well with tears as she choked out, “I want to believe you.”

Dolefully, he observed her, then pulled her close. His arms wrapped firmly around her as he uttered, “I never want to give you a reason not to.”

They stayed like that for a minute until Tenley lifted her head up and lightly placed a kiss on his cheek. “Go win your tournament…”

“It won’t feel like a win without you,” he murmured.

With a sad smile, she said, “Maybe, in another life... we work out.”

Then, she slipped out of his arms and walked over to the door.

“What if I want you in this one?” he called out.

“I may not be here for much longer,” she countered quietly.

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my fault,” she smirked. “I got caught… but that’s what I do. I’m reckless and I ruin things.”

Shaking his head, he sighed, “That’s not true, Ten.”

“I don’t fit with ‘the plan’,” she said under her breath.

“What plan?”

“It’s all in front of you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “After school, you’ll practice law…. come home to a wife and kids. You’ll coach the summer quidditch team and walk the dog and go on family vacations to-.”

“Hey,” he cut in. “What’s got you thinking so far ahead?”

Barely audible, she whispered, “I’ll only ruin it.”

Then, with an apologetic last look, she pulled herself away and headed back inside. Keeping her head down, she beelined for the bathroom and locked the door. As she steadied herself with the sink, she stared at her red face in the mirror and tried to command the tears to stop, but they kept falling.

It was true.

Even if Cedric meant what he said, Tenley knew that she could never be a part of his future. He was responsible and honest and good in ways that she could never measure up. They worked perfectly behind closed doors, but they had no chance in the real world.

Eventually, Tenley mopped herself up and rejoined Fitz.

“Where’ve you been?” He asked. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, “We should go.”

With a quizzical look, he slowly stood from the table and followed her out the door.

“The Hog’s Head will be better anyway,” Tenley assured him.

They walked down the cobblestone path until they reached the pub with the sign of a severed pig’s head above the door. Tenley took a deep breath before she entered the room. However, the dusty pub was empty except for the lanky bartender with long unkempt grey hair.

Abe waved them in and offered them a seat at the bar as he said, “You’re the first ones.”

“Where’s my attacker?” Tenley asked flippantly.

“I told him to stay away,” he grumbled. “At least whenever you kids are around.”

Fitz groaned, “But we wanted to talk to him.”

“What would you want with that old fool?”

“How about why he lunged at me,” Tenley offered.

The bartender grunted, “Does it matter? Man’s been losing it for a long time… But he did ask me to pass along a message if you came back.”

Tenley’s ears perked up, “What’d he say?”

“He wants to know the price for that ring of yours.”

“Price?” she repeated.

Fitz piped in. “We’ll give it to him if he can tell us what really happened to Dorothy Kemp.”

“I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” Abe sighed.

“You know the case?”

“I was a fourth year when she died,” he recalled. “Sent the whole school into a frenzy. You think Black knows something?”

“More than that. We think he-”

Tenley quickly grabbed her brother’s shoulder to quiet him, then looked up at Abe. “Tell him to write to us.”

She scribbled her name down on a napkin and slid it over the bar to him.

He nodded while studying her note, then pocketed it.

The front door opened and a band of Ravenclaws stepped in.

“Hey, Abe,” one girl waved as they made their way to the back room and down the ladder into the basement below.

Fitz’ voice rang out, “You didn’t tell me half my house were members!”

“C’mon,” she said. “I’ll introduce you.”

She led him down to the musty basement and when her feet landed on the floor, she was immediately confronted by Roger Davies, “New recruit?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied. “This is my little brother, Fitz.”

The boys shook hands as Roger said, “Nice to have more blue representation around here.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Tenley noticed the air duct where Avery always kept the club ledger. A red glow was seeping through the metal slits. Leaving her brother’s side, she approached the far wall, knelt down, and used her wand to remove the vent cover. When the black leather book was in her hands, she stared at the prominent dagger on the front. It was glowing red as if it was piping hot. Opening to the first page, in large bold letters, the middle of the old parchment read:

Tenley Wright has proven her disloyalty.

As consequence, we must reveal that Fitzgerald Wright Senior, her father and current professor of Muggle Studies at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is a muggle himself. He has no magic origin.

Do with this information as you will.

“So dramatic,” she muttered to herself.

“What is?”

Closing the book, Tenley hid it behind her back and quickly stood to face Cho Chang. Her sleek hair was pulled back in a bow, and she wore her usual skirt and sweater combo.

Tenley ignored her question and mumbled, “What do you want, Cho?”

The pretty Ravenclaw flashed a smile. “Just making sure there’s no hard feelings.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Meaning?”

“I hope my participation in the second task hasn’t caused any stress.”

“Should it have?” Tenley said coolly. “In fact, I’ve been wanting to thank you.”

Cho raised an eyebrow.

“See, I had to decline my invitation,” she continued. “So, it was really quite nice of you to step in.”

Skeptical, Cho replied, “You were asked to be a part of the task?”

Tenley smiled and nodded just as Avery walked by. Behind her back, she artfully passed the ledger off to her friend.

“Then, why have you been avoiding him?” Cho countered.

“Oh, we’re not seeing each other anymore,” she replied nonchalantly.

“What?! Since when?”

Lowering her voice, Tenley retorted, “I guess we’ll see if you two start dating for real now, won’t we?”

As Cho searched for the right response, Camilla’s voice projected throughout the room, “It’s time!”

Tenley gave the Ravenclaw a final smirk before joining the rest of the students. They were all corralled around Camilla, who was standing on a wooden crate. The ledger in her hands had been strategically placed face-down on a pillow so that no one could see the burning red dagger.

Camilla began her speech about the long legacy of the club, then called Fitz forward. The black-banged girl noticeably avoided looking at the ledger as she carefully opened it up and held it out to him. With the ceremonial silver-dipped quill, Tenley watched her brother scratch his secret onto the parchment.

It was accepted on the first try.

“Welcome to the Cloak and Dagger Society,” Camilla whispered as she placed the official band around his wrist. The whole room clapped.

Then, Camilla lifted the ledger and held it up to the crowd.

The dagger on the front cover had returned to its original silver sheen.

* * *

Tenley barely touched her plate at dinner. Half-listening to the chatter around her, she tried to anticipate what was ahead of her that evening.

How much did Dumbledore know, and what tactics would he use? Blackmail? Anger? Manipulation? She had to be prepared for anything.

At the top of the hour, she parted ways with her friends. Before heading off to the dungeons, they wished her luck, then left Tenley to stiffly climb the stairs to the gargoyle corridor on the second floor alone. Using the same password, she bypassed the stone guards and spiraled up to the headmaster’s dark wooden door.

This time, she knocked.

“Come in,” a weathered voice called.

As she entered the circular office, she found Albus Dumbledore sitting at his claw-footed desk. Despite his long white hair and half-moon spectacles, something about him reminded her of the bartender at the Hog’s Head.

“Ah Tenley, thank you for joining me this evening,” he said, offering her the chair in front of him.

“That’s her, Albus!” the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black exclaimed from above.

She turned her head to glare up at him.

“Thank you, Phineas,” the headmaster dismissed with a hint of amusement, then addressed Tenley. “I’m told that you made good use of my Pensieve while we were all busy during the second task.”

Suspicious of his tone, Tenley stayed silent as she studied his face.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he offered politely.

“No,” she murmured. “Not exactly.”

He waited patiently for her to explain.

“It didn’t provide as much clarity as I was hoping,” she finally answered.

“About your family, I assume.”

Tenley gave a nod.

“Is there anything I can help clear up for you?”

She thought back to Moody’s warning, and ignored the question.

“Sir,” she said. “Am I in trouble?”

Dumbledore thought for a moment.

“Curiosity is not a crime, Tenley,” he began. “But I daresay your method to cure it was not ideal. With that in mind… I’m willing to look past it if we can come to an agreement.”

Her stomach lurched, “What kind of agreement?”

“I understand you have an interest in the Dorothy Kemp case… my first ask is for you to put it to bed.”

Tenley raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“She was a friend.”

“A friend that you owed a bunch of money to,” Tenley countered.

With an air of surprise, he acknowledged, “That I did… Dorothy was a skilled arithmatist. I should’ve realized it to be the reason for her gambling prowess.”

He stood and walked over to a shelf, then picked up a square velvet case. He set it on the desk in front of Tenley and gestured for her to open it.

Hesitantly, she lifted the lid.

Inside, there laid the silver Cloak and Dagger Society bracelet on a bed of black silk. It was likely the same one she had seen teenage Dumbledore wear in the memory, but perhaps more worn.

“It’s nice to see that the club lives on,” he said, nodding to the shinier band around her wrist.

“Although a shame that the meetings had to be moved to Hogsmeade,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Tenley saw through his strategy to bond with her. It wasn’t going to work.

“You were a suspect,” she stated.

The headmaster gave a small chuckle, “I was, wasn’t I? Yes, I’m afraid they did not like my alibi.”

Tenley narrowed her eyes, “You know who killed her.”

Folding his hands in front of him, Dumbledore calmly said, “I know it was an accident, and a terrible one at that.”

“She was strangled!” Tenley cried.

“I ask that you to put it to bed,” he repeated. “For the sake of her memory and the club.”

“The club? The club is more important than the truth?”

He paused, then said, “Truth does not always ensure the best outcome, Tenley. Consequences must be considered.”

“For who?”

“The greater good,” he replied matter-of-factly, then continued. “And so, for my next ask, I encourage you tell me anything you know about a map.”

Tenley crossed her arms, then said coolly, “What kind of map?”

“It would be an artifact your dad brought back from Greece. Something very special to him.”

“It was destroyed,” she lied. “He doesn’t have it.”

The headmaster scanned her face. “This map may be our only hope in ensuring the safety of our world. If you know something, I implore you to tell me.”

She remained silent, staring straight into his blue eyes. The same blue eyes she’d seen lie to Agent McGrath.

“I don’t have anything for you,” she asserted.

“Very well,” he said. “If that’s all, I won’t take any more of your time tonight.”

Not having to be told twice, she stood and quickly crossed the starry blue carpet.

“And Tenley,” he added, “Going forward, please refrain from using my office without permission. Professor Moody has offered to oversee your detention for the remainder of the school year.”

She feigned disappointment with a sullen nod, then slipped out of the room.

As the door closed behind her, she heard the muffled voice of Phineas Nigellus Black, “That’s it!? Detention? She snuck into your office, Albus! I never…”

Leaning her back against the door, Tenley closed her eyes and gave a sigh of relief.

Then, she broke into a wide grin.

“I think this calls for a round of Ogden!” Cass bellowed.

Tenley had found her friends near the common room fireplace, waiting patiently for her to return. Like her, they were pleasantly surprised by the outcome of her sentencing hearing with the headmaster.

“I guess you’ll have to put up with me for a while longer,” she jested.

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, Camilla said, “Think how bored we’d be without you.”

Odin was less sentimental. With his chin resting on his fist, he mumbled, “How’d you only get detention…”

“Don’ yuh think Moody’s punishmen’ enough?” Hazel retorted.

“Hey, I’ll take it,” Tenley beamed up at them. “He hasn’t been that bad lately.”

“I knew they couldn’t kick you out!” Cass said while hoisting himself off the couch. “I’ll be back with the whiskey.”

She laughed, “Not with my track record! I’m calling it for the night.”

Amid the protests, Tenley stood and said, “give Odgen my best” before heading down the spiral stairs to her dorm. Feeling free from consequences, she practically floated the entire way. However, when she finally reached her cove and pulled back the emerald curtain, her face fell.

The bed of blue roses was still prominently displayed on her windowsill.

Tenley walked over and gently touched a shimmering petal. The memory of Cedric’s Christmas gift was still fresh in her mind, but so was him waltzing across the dance floor with Cho. Her heart ached as their conversation in Hogsmeade surfaced. Although she had meant what she said, it didn’t make it any easier. The second task had been a glaring sign that Cedric would be better off without her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same for herself.

“I have to let him go,” she whispered.

The sphinx ring grew warm against her chest.

Then, suddenly, the dainty rose began to shrivel and wilt.

She jerked her hand back as if it were a hot stove and watched in horror as the flower crumbled into black ash. Tenley grabbed the string around her neck and pulled the ring out from under her shirt. Alarmed, she said, “Was that you?”

The engraved silver creature smirked at her.

“How?” she demanded. “What are you?!”

There was no response as the sphinx remained still.

She threw her hand in the air, and said, “At least show me something.”

Nothing.

That night, when Tenley crawled into bed, she held the sphinx up close to her face and muttered, “What’s the use of having a sentient ring if you don’t listen?”

Still, no movement.

With the roll of her eyes, she nestled under her covers and unsuccessfully tried to fall asleep. It was nearly impossible to shut off the day’s events. Her conversation with Dumbledore replayed over and over as the colorful stream of spells from Fitz’ first duel fired across her mind. Then, there was Cedric. She tried to bury her head into her pillow, but the longing look in his grey eyes seemed to be seared into her skull.

Consciousness fading in and out, her drowsiness finally took full control, and before she knew it, her mattress was replaced with a bed of grass.

Lying motionless, Tenley stared up at a cloudless sky.

The white freckled trunks of aspen trees stood tall around her with green leaves bursting from their branches. She tried to turn her head, but she couldn’t move a muscle. Close by, she heard shallow breathing.

Then, the dark horror-filled eyes of Phineas Black Junior came into view as he knelt down next to her body. With shaky hands, the boy reached up and held tight to her face.

In the distance, she heard a frantic voice. “Fin! Get up!”

There was a rustling of footsteps, then the auburn-head of young Albus Dumbledore appeared. He grabbed Phineas’ shoulder, but the boy shook him off.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Dumbledore urged.

“How –” he said in a desperate rasp.

“She’s gone. We need to move.”

Trembling, Phineas’ hands moved to her neck, which felt like it was being constricted by some kind of tightly wound cord. He fiddled for a few seconds, then she noticed the pressure release as he held up a braid of silvery-green string. The same necklace that she’d seen Dorothy Kemp wearing. However, up close, it seemed to wriggle and writhe with a life of its own.

Dumbledore swiped the braided necklace from his hand, then forcefully wrenched Phineas backward, so that they were face-to-face.

“Where’s your wand?” he said with a hushed fervor.

The dark-eyed boy stayed silent.

“Listen,” Dumbledore said. “I am trying to help you. Do you have your wand?”

He shook his head, then nodded to the left.

Dumbledore hurried off in that direction while Phineas’ haunted face continued to hover high above her. Out of frame, she heard the future headmaster call out, “I’ve got your cloak. Think. Is there anything else that could tie you to this place?”

With a pained expression, Phineas slowly crouched down. She felt the gentle touch of his hand as he slid a metal band from her ring finger.

Suddenly, Tenley jolted upright in bed.

Clawing at her neck, she loudly gasped for air.

* * *

“My point is,” Tenley declared. “We were right about Phineas.”

Her shoes sank into soft soil as she followed Fitz through the forest.

“We can’t use a dream as evidence,” her brother countered. “We still need him to confess. You said Dumbledore was there?”

“He covered it up!” Tenley exclaimed as they stepped into the wide-open clearing with the singular aspen tree in the middle. Although free of leaves, tufts of white fluffy columns now hung from its branches, which weren’t the only things in bloom. Rather than the typical patch of dead grass, the ground was covered in little blue violets. In fact, new foliage seemed to be sprouting across the entire area, so it was beginning to look less like a bomb site.

“Walk me through it again,” her brother requested.

“I must’ve been lying here,” she said pointing to a spot near the tree. “Right where we saw Dorothy.”

“You were the dead body in this scenario?” he asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, I assume it’s because she was wearing the ring.”

“Why was she-?”

“I don’t know, Fitz,” she said, exasperated. “All I know is that Phineas was standing there, and get this: he strangled her with her own necklace.”

“Ouch,” he murmured.

She thought back to the silvery-green braid that wriggled in Phineas’ hands. “And it looked like it was made of vitanima root.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her, “Like the stitching in the handkerchief?”

“Exactly,” Tenley affirmed. “Maybe the handkerchief actually belonged to Dorothy and he kept it as a souvenir.”

Fitz circled the lone aspen where the jagged black etches of ‘10:1’ were prominently displayed on the bark. The same numbers that were stitched into the handkerchief. “What about the marking? Did you see that in your vision?”

“No… That, I can’t explain…”

“Why do you think he did it?” he mused. “Her blood status?”

“It’s possible… But he was upset, like he didn’t want her to be dead.”

“Maybe it was an accident like Dumbledore said.”

Plainly, she stated, “Tell me how you accidentally strangle someone.”

“I don’t know… a fit of blind rage? He attacked you, didn’t he?”

“Fair,” she shrugged, then gave him a sly smile. “I guess we’ll just have to ask him.”

“Do you think he’ll actually write to us?”

“He will if he wants his ring back,” she replied.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to give it up? You seem attached.”

“I am not,” she scoffed.

Fitz eyed her, “Really? So, you’ll let me take it for the night then?”

“No,” she said, cradling the ring in her hand. “I just don’t want to miss anything.”

“Right,” he smirked, then changed the subject. “Well, if Dumbledore was an accomplice, that explains why he wants us to stop digging around.”

Tenley nodded, then said, “He also asked me about the Golden Fleece. Wants to know if dad has it.”

He snickered. “Must be pretty desperate if he resorted to asking you.”

“The real question is how do I get dad’s coin?”

“It’s not worth it, Ten.”

She leveled with him. “Don’t you want to know how this all connects to our family?”

“Not enough to steal!” he exclaimed.

“Borrow,” she countered.

Unamused, Fitz stared at her, then reluctantly sighed, “You could duplicate it. Like you did with Terrance’s keys last year.”

Tenley pursed her lips to consider this, then said, “Not bad… “

When Monday came around again, she waited for the end of Muggle Studies to approach her dad as he was scratching words onto his chalkboard. He set down his piece of chalk and wiped the white dust from his hands. “What’s this I hear about you getting detention?”

“Oh. That,” she said stiffly, then waved away. “It’s nothing.”

Gerry raised an eyebrow at her, “What was it this time? Trespassing again?”

“You could say that…”

He shook his head. “No more trouble. Please, Ten. Dumbledore kindly welcomed us into his school-”

“And why do you think that is?” Tenley challenged.

Her dad’s blue eyes turned serious, “We owe a lot to him.”

“I’m sure he’d accept the Golden Fleece as payment,” she quipped.

With the tilt of his head, he gave her a disapproving look.

Casually, she said, “Don’t worry… I told him it was destroyed.”

“You what?” He exclaimed.

“That’s what you’ve been telling him, right? That it burned up in a fire?”

“How do you-”

Tenley cut him off, “The thing I can’t figure out is… if our family has been in hiding, why the hell would we suddenly move here?”

“Ten, I know it’s difficult to understand-”

“It wouldn’t be if you just told me what’s going on!”

“The less you know, the better,” he replied. “There are dangerous people that would stop at nothing-”

“I can handle it,” Tenley said with a roll of her eyes. She thought back to Dumbledore and his weak attempt to coax information out of her.

“All you need to do is focus on school,” her dad urged. “No need to concern yourself with anything else.”

While suppressing a groan, Tenley happened to remember her real reason for staying after class and quickly calculated her next more. As she turned to leave, she said, “Whatever. I’ve got a Charms test to study for anyway. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll do great,” he assured.

Taking slow steps to the door, she sighed heavily, “I don’t know about that. Flitwick is a harsh grader…”

“Well,” Gerry smiled. “How about we confirm just to be sure?”

Tenley made her way back to his side as he unbuttoned the breast pocket of his suit jacket. With the flick of his thumb, his lucky coin spun in the air and landed back in his palm. “Look at that. Heads,” he grinned.

“Here,” Tenley said while withdrawing her wand from her robes. “I’ll show you what we’re working on in class. It’s a doubling charm.”

While directing her wand at the ancient glob of gold, Gerry closed his fingers around his coin. “Not on this.”

“Why?”

“Best not to have it sprouting tentacles or something,” he teased.

Sarcastically, she said, “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” then quickly grasped for a convincing lie. “The spell actually works best on gold.”

“No, Ten,” he affirmed, pocketing the coin. He looked around at the items sitting on his desk. “How ‘bout you try my letter opener?”

“Never mind…” she muttered, accepting defeat.

As she left the classroom, her dad called out after her, “You’re gonna do great!”

In actuality, she needed the assurance for her test in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

That week, each of them took turns standing in front of Professor Moody as he hurled a hex for them to deflect. His pleasure in their failure did not go unnoticed, and some students had it easier than others. She watched as Adrian Pucey was subjected to a round of stinging spells that left him with painful red splotches on his arms, and even Hazel got hit with a bat-bogey hex. However, when it was Tenley’s turn, she only had to block a tickling jinx with a simple shield charm.

“No fair,” Hazel whispered once class was dismissed.

She shrugged, “Luck of the draw, I guess.”

Then, while packing up her bag, Tenley purposely knocked her bottle of ink off the table. As it splattered onto the floor, she swore under breath and waved her friends on, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Cleaning up the mess, she waited for everyone to leave. When only Moody remained, the professor said, “Well played, Wright.”

“Sir?”

“He’s crafty, isn’t he? Makes everyone feel special,” he huffed.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Tenley grumbled, thinking back to Dumbledore’s office.

With a humph, Moody said, “Glad you were immune. He’s managed to convince the wizarding world of his inherent righteousness.”

“I heard my grandparents didn’t trust him,” she offered.

“No, they wouldn’t of. Thames and Cynthia had good heads on their shoulders.”

“So… what made you turn on him?”

He hesitated, then grunted, “I’m weary of anyone who presents themself as a saint. There are always skeletons.”

Tenley thought back to the vision of Dumbledore standing over her body.

“He covered up a murder,” she stated. “Back when he was in school.”

Moody’s beetle-like eye observed her. “You got proof?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Tread carefully,” he advised. “Detention isn’t the worst he can do. Which reminds me... you’ll be assisting me with some potion ingredients.”

“For what?”

“My own arsenal,” he grunted. “I’ve got a shipment of bicorn horn that needs to be crushed into a fine powder.”

She grimaced, “Seriously?”

“It’s detention, Wright,” he said. “Not some holiday.”

“You promised to tell me about my family.”

“I did,” he grumbled. “And I will. Meet me in my office on Monday evening.”

Tenley never thought she’d have a reason to look forward to detention, but here she was. The anticipation carried her through to the next week. However, whenever she was asked about it by her friends, she made sure not to mention Moody’s secret intentions against Dumbledore.

“What potion would he be brewing with bicorn horn?” Camilla asked at breakfast on Monday morning.

“Does it matter?” she grumbled.

Suddenly, a swarm of owls swooped down from the ceiling to deliver the morning mail. Tenley looked on, mentally crossing her fingers that there’d be a letter from Phineas Black Junior.

“Ave,” Odin called out. The pixie-haired girl jolted up from her book. “Have you heard anything more about the third task?”

They all knew what he meant.

When Avery had returned from winter break, she had revealed that Death Eaters were planning a demonstration at the final event of the Triwizard Tournament.

She shook her auburn head.

Tenley chimed in, “Did they say anything about the champions?”

“No… I – I don’t think so.”

“Is there someone you can ask?” she pressed further.

Hazel’s brow furrowed, “Yur not tryin’ tuh join, are yuh?”

Tenley gave her a tired look and replied, “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, okay?”

“People are already hurting,” Odin said grimly.

Before Tenley could respond, she was distracted by a growing buzz of whispering at the other end of the Slytherin table. She felt eyes on her, and when she turned her head, a handful of housemates were staring and pointing fingers at her. She caught the shrewd gaze of fourth year, Draco Malfoy. With a devious smirk, he called out, “This your dad?”

He slid the latest copy of The Torch across the table, and Tenley’s heart dropped into her stomach.

There, in black and white, was an unflattering picture of Gerry Wright cocking his head to the side in confusion. Underneath, in big bold capital letters, the headline read, “Muggle Professor Hired at Hogwarts”.

Mouth dry and blood pounding in her ears, Tenley quickly scanned the newspaper column:

MUGGLE PROFESSOR HIRED AT HOGWARTS
by Harriet Wrenspire

In what seems like yet another misguided attempt to promote “progressive” ideals, Albus Dumbledore has hired a muggle man to teach young impressionable minds at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Fitzgerald Wright, who has no magic ability or bloodline, joined the faculty in the fall as the new Muggle Studies professor. Perhaps most concerning of all is that his blood status was never disclosed to any student or parent. It appears that the headmaster intentionally kept this from public knowledge in fear of the inevitable (and well-warranted) backlash…

“Bugger off,” Odin called down the table at the gawking faces. “It’s obviously rubbish…”

“Really?” Draco snickered back. “Prove it!”

Camilla leaned over to snidely address the fourth year, “If he turns you back into a squirrel, will that shut you up?”

The blonde boy’s face scrunched up like he had a bad taste in his mouth, then countered, “I don’t hear her denying it!”

All eyes turned to Tenley as she continued to stare dumbfounded at the paper.

How did it get out? It couldn’t have been her fault, right? She hadn’t told anyone… only the Cloak and Dagger ledger…

“A muggle professor,” Draco carried on with a sneer. “Embarrassing enough to have a father that teaches Muggle Studies, but to actually be one of them?”

Across from her, Hazel grabbed hold of the newspaper so that the rest of the group could read what was going on. After seeing the headline, Cass smirked, “Dumbledore’s mad, but he’s not that mad. Right, Ten?”

Rifling through potential responses, Tenley felt further and further backed into a corner. Lost for words, she looked up at the head table where her dad sat. Gerry was staring wide-eyed at a growing stack of letters on the plate in front of him. Owls circled high above his head, waiting their turn to add to the pile.

Smoke began to rise, and for a moment, Tenley thought the mound of mail had caught fire. Then, one bright red envelope flew out of the pile, hovering at his eye-level. The letter’s seams burst open like a cannon and a woman’s screeching voice erupted.

‘…YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING ANYWHERE NEAR THAT SCHOOL. HOW DARE THEY LET THE LIKES OF YOU TEACH MY SON. I WILL NOT STAND FOR YOU FILLING HIS HEAD WITH MUG-”

The letter suddenly vanished into thin air, and Tenley saw Professor Moody putting away his wand as silence fell across the Great Hall.

Her dad’s face was pale.

There was the loud creak of a chair as the grizzled professor stood, then hurriedly ushered Gerry up and out of the room. A hiss of whispers arose and grew louder until every table was abuzz with questions and theories.

“Lucky he’s got an actual wizard around to protect him!” Draco taunted.

Under her breath, Tenley muttered, “Lucky I don’t punch you in the teeth.”

Her friends all leaned towards the middle of the table to block out any other unsavory comments.

“…so, it’s true, huh?” Hazel said. “Yur dad’s a muggle?”

Defensively, Tenley replied, “Is that a problem?”

At first, her friends were quiet, then Camilla spoke up. “Well, it’s not your fault.”

There were hesitant nods around the circle.

Then, Odin pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “How’d they let this happen?”

“Yeah, nothing against you, Ten,” Cass offered, then said with a snort, “But what’s next? Letting in muggle students?”

After everything she’d read in the Archive, Tenley knew where they were coming from. If muggles historically wanted to wipe out the wizarding world… why would they allow one to teach here?

“He’s harmless,” she assured them.

“You sure about that?” Odin countered. “Didn’t he give you a muggle-sympathizer book for Christmas? What other agendas is he pushing?”

With a shake of his head, he dropped his fork and stood up from the bench. “This is bullshit…”

Their eyes followed him as he strode out of the hall.

Throughout her morning classes, Tenley wondered whether Odin had a point. Yes, her dad was a good teacher, but did he really have a right to be here?

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Camilla waved away as they sat together in Arithmancy. “There’s plenty of half-bloods here.”

They were working on an assignment to predict the weather. Or rather, Camilla was providing moral support as Tenley performed the necessary calculations.

“Tell that to Odin,” she murmured back.

“Oh, ignore him… He’s just sensitive because his sister married a muggle.”

Tenley looked up at her, “Really?”

“Blames her for breaking up the family. He thinks the entire weight of the Sideris name is on his shoulders, or something.”

She thought back to their conversation in the owlery. Odin had mentioned that his parent’s cared a lot about status.

“Is that why he’s so obsessed with the Anti-Statute movement?”

“Probably,” Camilla shrugged. “I personally think it’s silly to dwell on that stuff. But I guess it makes him feel like he’s doing something important.”

“Think he’ll ever talk to me again?” she mumbled.

With a laugh, Camilla said, “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get more than an earful.”

However, by the time they settled into their seats for Charms, Odin was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t at lunch either.

“I’m sure it’s nothin’,” Hazel whispered to her between bites.

Despite the unpleasant leering from other students, the rest of her friends provided a welcome distraction from the article. She was able to avoid the topic all together, that is, until Tenley arrived at her dad’s classroom that afternoon.

There was a handful of classmates crowded around the entrance. Tenley walked up behind Summer Marks and saw a piece of notebook paper was taped to the door. In black marker, it read “Muggle Studies is cancelled today.”

“Poor Professor Wright,” Summer sighed. “I hope he’s alright.”

“Can’t believe he’s been a muggle all along,” Fred commented.

The group looked up at the tall red-head.

“Not that it’s a bad thing,” he quickly clarified, then nodded at Tenley. “How’d your housemates take the news? Still allowed in Slytherin?”

She rolled her eyes, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“The sign seems to say otherwise,” his brother, George, retorted.

Tenley huffily moved past him and tried the door handle. It was locked.

With a shrug at the group, she said, “Class dismissed, I guess.”

Next, she sought out her dad’s office.

She wanted to check on him… and ensure that he didn’t blame her for the leak.

On her way there, she took a shortcut through the main courtyard, then immediately darted behind a pillar. Only a few feet away, sitting together on a bench, was none other than Cedric and Cho.

Their backs were turned so they hadn’t seen her yet.

Back against the stone barrier, Tenley tried to control her breath and listened closely to their quiet voices.

“I owe you one,” Cedric said.

“Only one?” Cho replied coyly.

“Fair,” he said with a laugh. “What’ll settle my debt?”

“I have a few ideas…”

Tenley silently grimaced at the playful tone.

There was a long pause, then he said, “Cho, I-”

“You still think she’ll come around,” she stated grimly.

“And you think I’m being thick.”

“Well, I’d say it’s difficult to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t even want to be seen with you.”

“She has her reasons-”

“She also broke up with you,” Cho reminded him. “What was it? Something like you two would never work in this lifetime?”

“I don’t pretend to understand,” he murmured. “I just know how I feel about her.”

Tenley’s heart leapt in her chest.

“You’re right,” Cho teased. “I do think you’re thick.”

“Friends?” he offered.

“Except on the quidditch field,” she quipped. “You’ll be in trouble next year.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

Tenley could hear the grin in his voice.

Cho sighed, “So what’s your plan?”

“Win the tournament.”

“You’re joking.”

“We had a deal,” Cedric explained. “I just hope she’ll let me make good on it.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

He thought for a moment, then posed, “Why stress about something that hasn’t happened yet?”

“You’re too good for her, Ced.”

“You don’t know Ten like I do,” he combatted. “She’s stubborn, yes… but it comes with this confidence… She cares more about people than she lets on – sometimes to a fault, and she never hesitates to go after what she wants-”

For a moment, Tenley forgot to breathe.

She tried to blink back the tears stinging her eyes as his words washed over her. They left her with an ache that radiated from her chest… she wanted nothing more than to run to him.

Then, a different kind of pain scalded her skin.

Tenley instinctively ripped the hot silver out from under shirt and looked down at the sphinx ring.

This time, the creature haughtily rolled its eyes and shook its head at her.

Before she had time to process, the lion-woman’s mouth opened wide.

A flash of technicolor consumed her, then quickly extinguished so that Tenley was standing in a small darkened bedroom, illuminated only by a candle in the corner.

There, a woman sat in front of a circular mirror, firelight flickering upon her brown skin. Tenley approached and peered over the woman’s shoulder to find familiar copper eyes staring back at her, but they were not her own. The reflection in the mirror only showed the poised Princess of Colchis.

Tonight, however, the woman’s face was lined with age and anguish.

“Medea,” a gruff voice called. “Look at me”

Tenley turned to see a large man standing near the door. Although a beard now covered his chiseled chin, she recognized his muscular body and dirty-blonde hair from the vineyard.

“I cannot,” the princess replied coolly. “It injures me.”

“There’s no need for theatrics, woman. This is what’s best.”

“For who?” she shot back. “Do not fool yourself, Jason. Your new marriage benefits no one but yourself.”

With a harsh laugh, he said, “Be reasonable, will you? This wedding guarantees great fortune for our children-”

“And a new wife for you to bed,” she added bitterly. “How do you cast me aside so easily? After everything I’ve done for you? I left my home – my family - stole from my own father… All out of love for you.”

“You exaggerate.”

“You’d be nothing without me,” she seethed. “Never a hero, only a mere mortal-”

Jason lunged forward and grabbed her neck.

Horrified, Tenley clung to the wall as she watched the struggle unfold.

With a tight grip around Medea’s throat, the man leaned close to her ear and said, “You give yourself too much credit.”

Fire in her eyes, the woman wheezed, “I will ruin you.”

Then, there was a loud bang.

In an instant, Jason was on the floor, grasping his own neck for air.

With a wand in her hand, Medea stood over her once loving husband as he flailed on the ground. She bent down and watched his eyes widen.

“You will know my pain. That, I vow to you.”

The room swam before her eyes as Tenley was jerked backward.

Adrenaline flooded her body as she suddenly sat up from a bed of thin white sheets. Breathing heavy, it took a second for her to get her bearings. The sun was shining through large windows near the ceiling and the air smelled faintly of antiseptic. The back of her head throbbed as she looked around at the line of identical beds along the wall.

“Oh good,” Madame Pomfrey’s prim voice rang out. “You were out longer than I expected. Drink this.”

The nurse handed her an ice-cold goblet.

Tenley did as she was told and gulped down the vile potion. It tasted like dirt and peppermint, but aside from the brain freeze, it instantly made her head feel lighter.

“How-?”

“Mr. Diggory found you in the courtyard,” Madame Pomfrey replied. “Nice of him to carry you in.”

Gratitude was not within her grasp at the moment. Tenley was still shaken from the memory, especially the look in Jason’s eyes as he tightened his grip around his scorned wife’s throat. Injustice simmered deep under her skin and silenced any impulse she’d had to see Cedric. The sphinx’s message was clear, and Tenley heeded its warning.

The nurse interrupted her thoughts, “You can still catch dinner if you hurry.”

Tenley snapped back to the present, “What time is it?”

“Nearly eight.”

The entire day had escaped her, and now, it was time for detention. Jumping up, she mumbled a “thanks” and fled the room.

Moody’s office was on the entirely opposite side of the castle, so she sped through the halls. As she finally walked into the stone room and closed the door, the old man grunted, “You’re late.”

“I was in the hospital wing.”

His beetle-like eye squinted back at her, “You’ve used that one before.”

“Well, this time, it’s true,” she smirked.

Moody ignored her and offered a chair at a table already prepped with a crate of thin, sharp animal horns. She took a seat, and began fiddling with a tool that resembled a small cheese grater. Without needing further instruction, she began the long and tedious process of filing them down to the bone.

“How’s my dad?”

“He’s being difficult. Insists on finishing out the school year instead of going into hiding,” Moody grumbled, then hobbled over to sit on a stool across for her. “Who’d you tell?”

“Why’s it got to be me?” she protested.

“Only your housemates read The Torch,” he reasoned.

Tenley considered this then shook her head, “My friends would never-”

“You trust too freely. These are delicate times…”

“Why?” Tenley complained. “Why is everyone so on edge?”

Ominously, the professor said, “The movement grows stronger each day.”

“Against the Statute of Secrecy, you mean?”

“Wizards have catered to muggles for far too long,” he growled. “We cowardly hide in the shadows while they continue to wreak havoc on the world. It’s time to rise up and take action.”

As if in agreement, the sphinx ring grew warm against her chest, and in turn, Tenley felt a prickle of anger.

“How?” she asked earnestly.

“We need someone to lead us. We need the Dark Lord.”

Her hands stopped moving and she looked up at Moody’s scarred face.

“The - the Dark Lord?” she stammered.

Wearing a sly smile, he nodded at her.

“What about all the people he’s hurt…? The – the pain he’s caused?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “There are casualties in every revolution, Tenley… Your grandparents understood that.”

She gave him a stern look, “They were against dark magic.”

“Oh, Thames and Cynthia eventually came around,” he casually waved away. “The fight for wizard rights was more important to them than who was leading the charge.”

“I don’t understand,” she admitted feebly. “They were… bad?”

“That’s what they want you to think!” he proclaimed. “They vilify us! All in an effort to keep the peace… when in actuality, all it does is keep wizards under the heel of muggle rule.”

Tenley’s head spun. Her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, an accomplished auror, was a Lord Voldemort supporter?

After a pause, she said, “You don’t think my dad should be here, do you?”

“He doesn’t belong,” Moody fervently declared. “Especially after what he’s done.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your parents have kept you in the dark for good reason,” he stated, then howled. “Haven’t you ever wondered how they met?”

“They were in Greece…” Tenley answered. “Dad was there on research; Mom on vacation.”

With an arrogant humph, he said, “Your mother was there to keep a watch on him.”

Tenley’s brow furrowed.

“Your dad stumbled on an ancient gravesite – one that was lost even to wizardkind. A site fabled to house the Golden Fleece. When your grandfather heard, he was determined to find it first.”

“What happened?”

“He was successful. Thames Shacklebolt secured the Fleece,” he affirmed. “But he was not alone. His daughter was tasked to keep an eye on the muggle… and you can guess what happened next. Reyna took a liking to him… so much so that she helped him steal the Fleece and ran off with him!”

Tenley gulped. “They stole it…?”

“And left Thames to die.”

She felt all the air leave her lungs.

“Why else would they keep it from you?” Moody continued.

Tenley couldn’t believe her ears. “My parents wouldn’t-.”

“Your parents are murderers and thieves,” he growled. “And Dumbledore has taken them under his wing because he wants the Fleece for himself.”

As the sphinx ring burned hot against her chest, Tenley’s world felt like it was collapsing around her.

Underneath bright white flames, Tenley scoured the wall of wooden drawers within the Archive. She’d left detention with a painful pit in her stomach, and a creeping intuition that Moody was right: her parents had been protecting her from their own crimes. Their own shame.

Why else would they be so secretive?

Flipping through newspaper clippings dated back to the early 70’s, Tenley eventually found proof. There, in bold block letters, The Torch headlines read “Muggle Invades Ancient Magic Ruins” and “Shacklebolt Slain by Own Kin.”

Slumping down onto a chair, she tried to digest the full story.

According to the paper, it was the summer of 1974 when graduate student, Fitzgerald Wright, first visited the Greek city of Corinth. The wizarding world first took notice when publications reported that he had discovered the lost grave of Medea’s children, a site speculated to house the famed Golden Fleece. Then, in a matter of weeks, the local library burned to the ground, and the body of renowned wizard, Thames Shacklebolt, was found in the fiery wreckage. His only daughter, Reyna, was spotted hand-in-hand with the muggle student, running from the crime scene. Authorities were never able to locate the suspects.

Tenley stared at the damning articles for a long time.

Eventually, she heard the heavy bookcase slide open.

Tenley looked up to find Odin in the doorway. He lingered by the back wall sheepishly with his shoulders arched and his hands in his pockets.

With an edge to her voice, she called out, “Done throwing your fit?”

“Took me by surprise, that’s all,” he mumbled back.

“My dad?” she asked coolly. “Or my dirty blood?”

“You’re not like them.”

“Like what?” she challenged with a hitch in her throat. “A threat?”

“You know what I mean, Ten,” he sighed.

She shook her head, then whispered, “I don’t know anything anymore…”

“I was thinking-” Odin scuttled forward and pulled up a chair across from her. His heavy-lidded eyes were wide and sincere. “Now that you’re part-muggle… It gives you credibility! People will listen to you!”

Tenley pinched the bridge of her nose, “Not now, Odin.”

“I’m sorry about this morning, okay? I talked to Graham and-”

“I don’t care about this morning,” Tenley snipped back. “I care about this!”

She slid the newspaper over to Odin and watched him carefully scan the text. After a few minutes, he began to read aloud, “‘Reyna and her muggle accomplice were seen sprinting away from the fire.’”

Odin looked up at her and asked, “Your parents?”

She gave a sullen nod.

“‘It’s unclear what spurred the struggle,’” he continued reading, “‘but it is presumed to involve the legendary artifact, the Golden Fleece.’”

He slowly set down the article.

“So, this is it? This is why Dumbledore thinks he has the Fleece?”

Tenley buried her head in her hands, then said, “It doesn’t make any sense… m - maybe it was an accident…”

With a snort, he said, “The arson or the murder?”

She gave him a sour look.

“It’s in their nature, Ten,” he affirmed. “Once they become aware of magic, there is no limit to what they’ll do-”

“This is my dad we’re talking about!” she cried out. “He studies magic for a living… He married a witch for God sakes!”

“A witch who betrayed her own kind,” Odin countered.

Combatively, Tenley said, “Is that what you think of your sister?”

Odin’s expression grew stern as he said, “We’re not talking about my sister.”

“Why not? She married a muggle, didn’t she?”

“She was led astray…”

“So that’s what you tell yourself, huh?” Tenley grimaced. “She’s a victim, but my mom’s a traitor?”

“At least she didn’t kill anyone!”

Tenley kicked her chair back and headed toward the door.

“Ten-”

Scathingly, she turned back, pointed her finger at him, and said, “Did you contact The Torch?”

“What?” he sputtered. “No – I – I didn’t know-”

“But you would’ve!” she accused.

Odin took a deep breath and leveled with her, “He shouldn’t be here… And you know that.”

Tenley kept her eyes on the carpet as he continued.

“You’re upset now - but at some point, you’re going to realize – this isn’t right. Family or not, muggles have no place here… Think of all the information they’ve kept from you – the lies they’ve told. If you’re angry at anyone, it should be them.”

Her sphinx ring grew warm, and with it, Tenley felt a sudden surge of fury spread throughout her chest. Even among the blind faith and irritating non-answers, she still saw her parents as a source of truth. Now, Tenley wasn’t so sure. Now, she wondered if they’d been criminals all along…. harbored by Dumbledore.

She hung her head and mumbled, “Where do we go from here?”

Odin stood from his chair, walked over, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“You got us.”

For a moment, the heat of her anger was shrouded in a cool blanket of comradery. She looked up and gave him a smirk, “You said Appleby had to talk some sense into you?”

With a humph, he said, “Told me I was being a git.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Oh, piss off,” he laughed. “What’ll be my penance? Locking me out of the clubhouse?”

“Don’t need it anymore,” she said grimly.

“Our high ‘n mighty champion finally get on your nerves?”

She gave him a sad smile, “Something like that.”

Then, without another word, she dipped out of the Archive and made her way back to her cove for another sleepless night.

* * *

“You dropped out of Muggle Studies!?” Fitz exclaimed.

In the week since her detention, she’d managed to evade her brother. That is, until he cornered her outside of History of Magic.

“I don’t want to see him,” she replied shortly.

“Dad needs us more than ever right now, Ten,” he argued. “Did you hear that he got locked out of his office again?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “A harmless prank.”

“Really? How about the hate mail he’s been getting?”

“Clearly, people don’t want him teaching here,” she stated.

“And you think that’s right?!”

“Listen. You don’t have all the facts.”

“Facts?” He blustered. “How about the fact that dad is getting harassed by students in your own house? You’re not going to do anything about that?”

She hadn’t told her brother what she had learned from Moody, and she wasn’t planning on it. The news had shaken her enough, and she didn’t see any need to shatter his image of their parents.

“He chose to come here, Fitz. He has to deal with the consequences.”

“No one was supposed to know!” her brother cried. “How’d it get out?”

Tenley shrugged, “Wasn’t me.”

“It had to be your friends,” he grumbled. “They saw it in that book.”

“It’s getting old, Fitz,” she said with a disappointed shake of her head. “You blaming my house.”

“I was right about Dorothy, wasn’t I?” he countered.

“A Slytherin may have killed her, but don’t forget that a Gryffindor covered his tracks!”

As the words left her mouth, she thought about Dumbledore’s protection of her own parents.

“There’s still no proof, Ten.”

“Maybe the ring is enough to convict him,” she posed.

“And hope that an investigator has the same ‘visions’?” he said sardonically. “I don’t know what kind of magic that thing is, but I don’t trust it.”

Tenley didn’t share her brother’s reservations, but she was getting tired of dreaming about Dorothy.

Over and over, she witnessed the same dull scenes of the Ravenclaw hiding her gambling notes or complaining about her classes. The visions didn’t paint her in the best light either. Based on what Tenley saw, she’d describe the muggle-born as generally unpleasant with a short-temper and a know-it-all attitude. No matter how nicely she asked the sphinx to show something more useful, the same negative loop continued.

However, the ring did communicate with her in other ways. Every time she felt a wave of anger or anxiety, Tenley was immediately met with the warmth of silver against her skin as if the sphinx was there to guide her through it. This primarily happened during conversations with Professor Moody.

Throughout the spring, she attended detention in his office twice a week. There was always some potion ingredient he needed help preparing. If she wasn’t crushing bicorn horn into a fine powder, Tenley was grinding lacewing flies into a paste. All the while, Moody would tell her heroic stories of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. It contradicted almost everything she had ever heard about them.

“The ministry has always been incompetent,” he explained one evening. “They’ve continued to fail us time and time again, letting muggles run rampant. Then, the most powerful wizard in the world started calling them out. For the first time, we had an advocate. Not a lying politician. Someone actually willing to fight for their people.”

“If he’s so great,” Tenley said skeptically, “why are people afraid to say his name?”

“Those that don’t revere him should be afraid!” Moody exclaimed. “He has no tolerance for deceit or stupidity. He will destroy anyone who dares stand in the way of the resistance.”

Tenley silently mashed the mortar full of lacewing flies in front of her. Then, carefully, she asked, “…you’re saying it’s justified? To – to murder?”

“It’s war,” he grunted. “No mercy will be given to us. Why would we show any to them?”

“But he went after a baby,” she challenged. “Potter, right?”

“Special circumstances,” he grumbled. “The future of the resistance was at risk.”

Something about his answer didn’t sit right with her… but she didn’t want to push her professor any further. Instead, she whispered, “You really think he’ll come back?”

“He’ll be back,” Moody affirmed.

Surprised at his confidence, she said, “How?”

“That’s for me to know.”

“Wh-what about my parents?” she stammered. “What happens to them?”

Moody observed her carefully with his beetle-like eye, then coyly said, “He’ll leave them alone.”

Her heart leapt.

“Really?” she said hopefully. “You’re sure?”

“As long as he has the Fleece…” he caveated.

Suddenly, Tenley felt sick as the sphinx ring warmed against her chest.

Then, he gave words to her fear. “The problem is your dad will never give it up willingly.”

“Wh-why would the Dark Lord want it?”

“To reinforce the resistance.”

“With a map of soulcatchers…?” she questioned. “How-”

“Does it matter?” Moody snapped. “It’s the only way to ensure their safety!”

She paused, processing the weight of her situation. If her professor was right, if the Dark Lord returned, her family would be at the top of his hit list. Slowly, Tenley nodded her head, then whispered, “…I can get it.”

“Good,” he affirmed.

“You said it’s in his jacket?”

Moody growled, “Not anymore.”

Tenley’s lips twisted to the side as she considered this new piece of information. He must have moved it due to her warning.

Advising her, he said, “Get him to show it to you.”

“He won’t even admit that he has it,” she countered. “And we’re not exactly speaking at the moment…”

“Then you fix it,” he asserted.

“Maybe I’ll have better luck this summer-”

“There is no time to waste!” he howled. “The Dark Lord will be back by then. Their lives are in your hands.”

She gulped.

With the school year quickly coming to an end, the last thing she needed was to add the pressure of finding the Golden Fleece, and so, she pushed it from her mind. Most nights, her friends crowded around their usual table with their textbooks and scrolls. Sixth year exams were rumored to be the most brutal, and their teachers did nothing but pile hours of homework on top of them.

“I can’t look at these star charts anymore,” Cass groaned. “When will I ever need to know the movement of Saturn in real life?”

Tenley smirked up at him, “At least be thankful you’re not in Arithmancy. Vector won’t even tell us the date and time of the exam– we have to calculate it ourselves.”

“Speaking of,” Camilla chimed in. “… have you figured that out yet?”

Giving her an amused look, she replied, “Last day of class. Right before the end-of-year feast.”

“Gross. I wish we could get it over with and just enjoy the tournament.”

Amid the stress of exams, the school was abuzz with anticipation for the third task. In only a few days' time, the final challenge in the Triwizard Tournament would be held at the very quidditch pitch that they had broken into back in the fall. Ministry workers were seen coming and going at all hours in preparation.

In her weaker moments, Tenley’s thoughts drifted to Cedric.

He was giving her the space she asked for, but ever since she had overheard him talking in the courtyard, Tenley secretly hoped they’d find a way back to each other. Every few days, she’d catch his eye in the hall and he’d return a knowing smile. He promised to win the tournament for her, and despite it being irrational, she had every intention to keep her end of the bargain.

This is what she was daydreaming about when she was walking the halls the Wednesday night before the third task. She was on her way back from detention when a group of green robes bolted past her. Among them, she recognized the white blonde hair of Draco Malfoy.

“Watch it!” she called out.

One boy turned his head, and it happened to be Blaise Zabini. His typical apathetic eyes were wide with fear as he slowed to a stop, then babbled, “I didn’t mean… he wasn’t supposed to be there...”

Brow furrowed, she asked, “Who?”

“Oi!” another fourth-year hollered, still sprinting down the hall, “C’mon!”

Blaise looked back and forth between her and his friends

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, then hurried off toward the dungeons.

Concern rising, Tenley turned on her heel.

The portraits on the walls were eager to point her in the direction that the boys had come from until she neared closer and closer to the Muggle Studies corridor.

Her dad’s classroom door was ajar.

She cautiously stepped inside and found the room in complete disarray. On the floor, vinyl records were shattered and coils of shiny film were flowing out of VHS tapes. Spiral notebooks were ripped and scattered. Then, peeking out from behind a toppled-over desk, she saw brown leather shoes.

“Dad?!”

Tenley ran to the body sprawled out on the wood floor. Dressed in his usual navy sport coat, his eyes were closed and his jaw was slack. Immediately, she knelt down and found his pulse. However, a sigh of relief got stuck in her throat when she looked up. Above him, the words “MUGGLE SCUM” were burned into his chalkboard, and the smell of charred wood still hung in the air.

Her blood ran cold.

Scum. The sight of it twisted her insides.

Frozen in place, the familiar prickle of warmth from the sphinx ring began to radiate through her body. Fury wrestled with fear as she grasped for someone to blame. Her mind flitted to the fourth-year boys… they’d done it… they’d hurt him… but another voice reminded her that they were just kids.

No, it wasn’t them that she hated. It was Dumbledore’s fault for putting him in this position. Her dad should never have been here in the first place!

Bristling, she took out her wand to revive him, then hesitated.

Her eyes landed on the small pocket on the front of his chest.

It was right there. All she had to do was…

Tenley unfastened the button and extracted the ancient gold coin. Her thumb traced the side profile of the Greek goddess imprinted on it. Then, flipping it over, she found the same image.

She smirked at the two faces. Heads always means yes.

For as long as she could remember, the odds were always in his favor… but maybe his luck was beginning to run out…

Then, her dad began to stir.

Tenley quickly pocketed his coin as she watched his face scrunch up in pain. He groaned and gingerly moved his hand to the back of his head.

“Dad,” she whispered.

His eyes flew open. “Ten. Wh- what are you-?”

“Careful,” she warned. “You’re hurt.”

With a sad smile, he replied, “Occupational hazard these days…”

Slowly, she helped him sit up.

“It appears some students decided to redecorate,” he said grimly, looking around at the damage. “I think I gave them quite a scare. Knocked me flat-”

The blood drained from his face as he caught sight of the chalkboard.

Quietly, he said, “It seems my presence has stirred up some strong feelings.”

“You should leave,” she advised. “It… it’s clearly dangerous for you here.”

“Ah, well, you see,” he sighed as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. “It’s the principle of the matter, T-Leaf. They’ll have to drag me out themselves.”

“Dad… this is magic we’re talking about... you – you-”

“Don’t stand a chance?” he offered. “That may be true… but I assure you, Ten. There are stronger forces in this world than magic… I worry that you’ve forgotten that.”

“Forgotten…?”

“What happened to the girl who could live without it?”

“She was desperate,” Tenley grimaced.

Her dad raised an eyebrow at her.

“I would’ve done anything to be accepted into their world,” she mumbled.

Nodding his head, he said, “That sounds lonely.”

Tears sprung into her eyes, “You erased me! And I blamed myself every time! But I know better now… it’s bigger than me. It’s the world that needs to change.”

“We thought we were protecting you-”

“That’s the problem!” she cried. “You were! There’s a reason we have to hide from them.”

“But I never intended for you to feel this way.”

“How could I not? I hated magic – hated myself – for far too long.”

“And where does that hate go?” Gerry posed, then nodded to the chalkboard. “To scum like me?”

“I’m not talking about you…”

“You are, love,” he affirmed. “You have every right to be angry. To want better for your community. But when you talk about them, do not forget that you talk about me.”

Avoiding his eye, Tenley whispered, “Did you kill him…? My grandfather?”

She felt him grow tense.

“You stole the Fleece and left him to die,” she stated.

“Tenley,” he urged. “It’s complicated…”

Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “Explain it to me then.”

“Well, you see,” he fumbled. “There were… special circumstances.”

Tenley shook her head.

“Don’t bother,” she muttered, striding to the door.

Before leaving him in the wreckage of his classroom, she flashed a dark smile and said, “You’re no better.”

Early the next morning, the Woman in White looked down at her with concern, “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Half-asleep, Tenley acknowledged the portrait with a slight nod.

She wasn’t wrong.

It’d been weeks since Tenley had been anywhere near the clubhouse, but now, with her dad’s lucky coin in her pocket, she was ready to hear what Medea had to say. Following another restless night, she only hoped that the information was worth the trouble.

“Your friend’s been back,” the painted woman continued.

A spark ignited Tenley’s tired frame.

“I told him I hadn’t seen you,” she explained. “But that doesn’t stop him from checking back every few days.”

Tenley smiled. That sounded like Cedric.

“He wanted me to remind you that he’s not going anywhere.”

An ache radiated deep within her chest, then suddenly, silver scorched her skin.

Jolting upward, Tenley yanked the ring out from under her shirt.

“I get it, I get it,” she muttered down at the ring. “But he’s nothing like Jason.”

The sphinx gave an exasperated shake of its head.

Eyeing her suspiciously, the Woman in White asked, “Shall I pass on a message?”

Her heart fluttered.

Over the past few weeks, she’d tried, unsuccessfully, to smother all feelings toward Cedric. They were too different, and deep down, she knew he deserved someone better. Someone less impulsive… less headstrong.

Yet, still, the embers remained.

Tenley removed the ring from around her neck and placed it in her book bag. Somehow, it made her feel lighter.

“Have him meet me tonight…” she finally said, “Up in the Astronomy tower. Right after curfew.”

The portrait nodded, then swung open to reveal the clubhouse entrance. Tenley climbed inside the warmly-lit room and beelined for Medea, who was sleeping soundly in her frame. Without hesitation, Tenley knocked on the wall, startling her awake.

“What in the god’s-” the princess yelped, then grimly said. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Nice to see you too,” she retorted.

The portrait looked her up and down, then said, “You look awful.”

Ignoring the comment, Tenley extracted the gold coin from her robes and held it up to Medea.

She stared at it for a moment, then softly said, “Where’d you find that?”

“Does it matter? It’s an heirloom, isn’t it?”

The princess nodded, “I haven’t seen that one in a long time.”

“Great,” Tenley said shortly, pocketing the coin. “What do you know?”

“You’re inpatient.”

“You could say that,” she grumbled. “I’ve waited months.”

Medea rolled her eyes, “I suppose.”

Then, she sat up straight, adjusted the crown atop her curly head, and began, “There was a time… back when our family ruled over the kingdom of Colchis… A time when muggles saw us as gods. Townspeople would visit the castle. We’d tend to their ailing crops and children with the necessary spells and potions until the whole land was prosperous. Everything was as it should…”

“That is, until a new wizard arrived in town by the name of Herpo. A self-proclaimed alchemist who began promising everlasting life to anyone who would listen… Within weeks, mysterious deaths began to burden the town. Mostly drownings.”

Tenley listened carefully. She had heard of Herpo before… he was the creator of the first horcrux, the one that splits your soul.

“When the King caught wind of this, he imprisoned him, but it wasn’t long until Herpo offered eternal life in exchange for his own freedom… The King had a better idea though. He requested the source. A book bound by sheepskin that contained all of Herpo’s magical experiments and creations, also known as-”

“The Golden Fleece,” Tenley answered.

With a nod, Medea confirmed, “The King quickly recognized its power, and so, it became his lifelong mission to never let it fall into the wrong hands. That’s how our family became known as it’s guardians.”

“Guardians?” she snorted. “Hasn’t it been lost for centuries?”

Unamused, Medea explained, “The book was scattered into multiple pieces. Descendants around the world have been sworn to keep their designated pages under lock and key… except for one missing section.”

“Let me guess,” Tenley smirked, “The part you stole?”

Medea glowered at her, then said, “Yes, well, as far as I know, that piece has never been found… it was protected by the King himself, guarded by his basilisk… until that muggle showed up.”

“Is that the map?”

After the portrait nodded, Tenley clarified, “And everybody wants it because…?”

“It’s the only way to identify immortal beings… or rather, the objects that contain their souls.”

“Horcruxes, you mean.”

“Not only that,” she advised. “Think of the trial and error required for such an invention. There are likely souls still trapped from those early experiments.”

“All the people he drowned...”

“Precisely,” Medea said. “Not to mention, his sister’s contributions.”

“Sister?” she repeated.

“Before Herpo came to Colchis, he traveled with his sister, Helma – a skilled alchemist in her own right. It’s said that her experiments are also contained in the Fleece.”

“And she created the other type of soulcatcher?”

“The zophora,” Medea affirmed. “It captures the soul of anyone who dies while touching it.”

“Right, but… how do they get it back?”

“That’s the difficult part,” the princess said through thin lips. “Another life must be sacrificed to return the soul to body.”

Crossing her arms, she said, “Seems like a design flaw.”

“Immortality is not to be taken lightly.”

Tenley sighed, “So this is it, huh? Shacklebolts guard different sections of this book, but everyone’s still looking for the map?”

“Does our history disappoint you?” Medea said coolly.

“No – it’s not that…” she muttered, shaking her head. “It just doesn’t help me.”

Despite this newfound clarity, it did nothing to change her current situation.

The map was no longer lost. As far as she knew, it was in her dad’s possession, and if Moody was right, her family would be in danger until the Dark Lord got hold of it.

Unsatisfied, Tenley turned toward the door.

“Take good care of that coin,” Medea called.

Brow furrowed, she looked back and asked, “Why?”

“The King gave it to my mother,” the princess replied. “It represents certainty. A promise that, despite all odds, he would always find a way back to her. It’s been passed down for generations.”

Tenley touched the coin in her pocket. Her heart gave a twinge of guilt as she thought of her parents. That’s why it was so special to them.

She acknowledged Medea with a subtle nod, then dragged her feet to the Great Hall for breakfast. There, she filled her friends in on the Golden Fleece.

Odin’s eyes gleamed in awe as he whispered, “It’s a book…”

“Great,” Camilla smirked at her. “Now, he’s going to be even more insufferable.”

“I was right, wasn’t I?” he bellowed, looking around the table. “It exists! Where’s Miko? He’s got to know it’s not some bloody coat.”

Tenley hushed him, “Keep it down, will you?”

He couldn’t contain his grin. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? The King of Colchis divided up the pages, preventing one person from holding all the secrets of immortality.”

“I still don’t get what’s so special about this map,” Cass countered. “Why’s that the piece that everyone wants?”

“Imagine finding an object that will protect your soul if you die,” Odin offered. “That, or… it’d be a weakness to anyone who’s actually managed to do it.”

Tenley’s stomach churned thinking about the Dark Lord. Either he wanted to collect more soulcatchers… or the map was a liability to him.

Hazel spoke up, “How’d yur dad get the map in the firs’ place? Yuh tellin’ me a muggle foun-?”

They were interrupted by the flapping of wings as dozens of owls soared in from the ceiling. One large barn owl swooped down and dropped a scroll onto Tenley’s plate. Without hesitation, she opened it and found the scratch of an unfamiliar quill:

I will tell you anything you want to know. Name the time and place.
PBJ

“It’s him,” she breathed. “Phineas.”

Hands gripped tight to the parchment, she stood abruptly and spotted her brother over at the neighboring table. Hurrying over, she unceremoniously shoved the note in front of his face.

Annoyed, Fitz took hold of it. Then, she watched as his eyes grew wide.

“I told you we’d hear from him!” she beamed, claiming the spot next to him.

As he set the scroll down, he slowly said, “There’s no more Hogsmeade visits left… how are we going to…?”

Her smile faded. “I hadn’t thought that far...”

“It needs to be public,” Fitz stated. “So, he doesn’t jump us and run.”

Nodding, the answer sprung out of her mouth, “The third task. The grounds will be open to spectators.”

“We’ll meet him outside the stadium…” he thought out loud, then held up his Walkman. “And I’ll record his confession.”

Nerves bubbled up as Tenley considered confronting the crazed old man. She hopped up from the bench and said, “I’ll send him an owl.”

Fitz grabbed her arm. “Ten.”

“What?”

“Dad was attacked last night.”

She sighed, then sat back down. “I know… He shouldn’t be here.”

“Seriously?” he scolded. “You’re blaming him? When are you going to wake up?!”

“Me?” she said defensively. “I could say the same about you. Wizards have every right to be wary of muggles.”

Her brother closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How’d you get so brainwashed, huh? You’ve known these people less than a year! You really trust them more than your own family?”

“Our family has kept us in the dark about everything,” she snapped back. “Why are we here, Fitz? And why were we in hiding for so long?”

“I’m sure they have a good-”

“They’re fugitives!” she cut in. “They stole a piece of the Golden Fleece and killed our grandfather in the process.”

“What’re you talking about?” he sputtered. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true! Moody confirmed it.”

“M- Moody…” Fitz repeated, looking alarmed. “You’re lying.”

Tenley gave a smug shake of her head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he pivoted. “Whatever happened, our parents are on the right side of things. What’s it gonna take for you to see that?”

Standing up from the bench, she said, “I don’t know if I can…”

With an unsettling pit in her stomach, Tenley made her way out of the room and toward the Owlery.

Brainwashed. He had no idea what he was talking about. If only her brother knew about the information in the Archive – all the secrets the ministry was keeping from them – he too would be skeptical of the system. When she finally arrived at the top of the tower steps, she nearly collided with Avery.

“Oh, hey,” Tenley said, “We missed you at breakfast.”

In truth, she hadn’t noticed that her quiet friend had been missing from the table.

Pale as a ghost, the auburn-haired girl kept her head down and tried to move past her.

Tenley put a hand out to stop her. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled, picking at her ink-stained fingers.

“Who’re you writing to?”

Avery looked up with panic in her lemur-like eyes.

“You know something about the tournament,” Tenley stated. Leaning close and lowering her voice, she said, “Ave, what are they planning? Will it affect the champions?”

She shook her head and stammered, “No one’s supposed to get hurt.”

“What’s with the secrecy? You can trust me.”

Pushing past her, Avery said, “I- I’ve got to go.”

Open-mouthed, Tenley watched as she scampered down the stairs.

“What in the-” she muttered to herself.

Then, she returned to the task at hand. Tenley jotted down a quick note, and in a matter of minutes, an owl took off with her response to Phineas Black Junior.

* * *

“We must keep watch of Capella,” Professor Sinistra instructed. They all pointed their telescopes to the north sky, and she continued. “Since winter, it’s only grown dimmer and dimmer.”

“That’ll be on the exam,” Hazel murmured next to her.

Tenley didn’t find this information particularly useful. These days, the sun barely dipped below the horizon, meaning every star was less bright, but nevertheless, she still scratched down the note.

At the end of the hour, when everyone had packed up their instruments and headed down the spiral staircase from the tower, Tenley lingered outside.

Hazel called out, “Yuh comin’?”

“I’ve got an assignment to finish up,” she replied.

Brow furrowed, Odin turned around to say something, then stopped when he caught sight of her face.

Confused, Hazel said, “Curfew’s in five-”

Odin ushered their freckled friend toward the stairs, then called back to Tenley, “Have fun!”

Once alone on the tower, she walked over to the ledge and looked out over the castle grounds. The night sky basked everything, from the lake to the forest, in a lavender gray twilight. It was hard to believe that they had reached the end of the school year. Only nine months prior, she was sitting on a bench looking out over the town she’d grown up in.

Now, she had a new definition of home.

A subtle breeze cooled the summer air, and, with it, carried a low voice, “Ten points from Slytherin.”

She turned to find Cedric leaning against the stone archway with his hands in his pockets. His lips lifted into a slight smile that lit a fuse in her.

Meandering toward him, she retorted, “Surely, my offenses are worth more than that.”

“Most definitely,” he agreed. “But I’m willing to look past it.”

As she closed the gap between them, Tenley whispered, “Careful, I may never learn my lesson.”

Cedric gazed down and placed a hand on her cheek. “I’m counting on it.”

The longing in his grey eyes mirrored her own.

Lifting her chin, she slowly drifted toward him. In the air between them, tension pressurized like the hum of a Roman candle ready to launch. When their lips touched, a burst of light erupted in her chest and continued to flare with the tenderness of every kiss. Their movements became more urgent as his fingers slid back behind her collar, pulling her in. With each passing moment, the past few weeks seemed to fizzle and fade. That is, until Cedric rested his forehead against hers, and softly said, “What changed your mind?”

“I-” Tenley hesitated. Body tense and heart racing, the honest answer got stuck in her throat as she turned away.

“Hey,” he said, tucking a braid behind her ear. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”

She met his eye and decided on a more playful answer, “I guess I couldn’t let you be crowned champion without me.”

He grinned, “You’ll be there then?”

“I’ll be there,” she affirmed, pulling him by the hand over to the tower railing.

Standing behind her, Cedric wrapped his arms around her shoulders as they looked out onto the quidditch pitch where the final task would be held. In the distance, she could see that the white lines that used to snake across the field had grown into menacingly tall hedges.

“Have they told you what you’ve got to do?”

She felt his chin nod against the crook of her neck, “It’s a maze. I’ve got to get to the center before the others.”

Skeptically, she asked, “What’s the catch?”

“There’ll be obstacles… creatures and curses to get past.”

For his benefit, Tenley swallowed her fear and said, “You’ll be great.”

His lips grazed the top of her head. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

“What can I say? I can be very motivating,” she smirked. “Which reminds me… I seem to recall that you wanted to take me flying.”

He looked down at her, “Really?”

“Sounds like the perfect first date, don’t you think?”

Cedric held her tighter, then said, “Well now I have to win… how are my chances looking?”

Leaning into him, Tenley smiled, “I like our odds.”

As they gazed out onto the moonlit grounds, her hand absentmindedly moved to her pocket and found the misshapen gold coin. She was reminded of her dad’s optimism, and the sentiment of certainty that Medea had ascribed earlier that day. A family relic passed down for generations…

“I want you to hold onto something for me,” Tenley breathed, turning around to face him. She withdrew the coin and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Inspecting both sides, Cedric gave her a quizzical look.

“A good luck charm,” she explained. “It’ll guarantee you that trophy.”

He closed his fingers around it. Then, with a sly grin, he said, “As long as it guarantees me you.”

Returning a smile, Tenley hung her arms around his neck, and brought his face down close enough for their noses to touch. She felt the quick beat of his heart against her own chest. Then, trying to communicate all the words she couldn’t yet say, she firmly pressed her lips against his.

For the rest of the night, they conjured blankets and pillows, and laid together underneath the stars. She filled him in on everything she’d learned about soulcatchers and the Golden Fleece.

Cedric lifted his head to catch her eye, “You really think your dad has this map?”

Grimly, she said, “He has it - I’m sure of it.”

“And You-Know-Who figured out how to save a piece of his soul?”

Tenley nodded. “Moody’s convinced that he’ll return… and that my family will be first on his list.”

His arms tightened around her. “Let’s hope that’s just paranoia talking. Nothing to worry about tonight.”

She snuggled closer into him and breathed in the scent of cedar on his skin. Lulled by the warm rise and fall of his chest, Tenley’s mind drifted.

Before she knew it, orange glowed behind her eyelids as the sun gave it’s early morning greeting. She lifted her head slightly, and realized that they were still intertwined together on the astronomy tower.

“Hey,” she whispered, “We fell asleep.”

Cedric quietly groaned and nestled his head closer to her.

“And you’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

With his eyes still closed, she watched him smile and murmur, “Five more minutes…”

“You need breakfast,” she countered, crawling out of his arms.

He reached for her hand and said, “As long as we can do this again.”

“Who’s the rule-breaker now?” she teased.

Cedric pulled her back to their makeshift bed as he tickled her sides, causing her to squeal with laughter. After she settled back into him, he kissed her shoulder and said, “Some things are worth the risk.”

She turned around to look at him.

As her eyes roamed across his face, Tenley was scared by the three words that impatiently sat on the tip of her tongue.

He squinted his eyes at her, “What?”

Pulse racing, she felt the blood rush into her cheeks until she finally shook the thought from her head.

“I’ll tell you later,” she dismissed, then lifted herself into a sitting position. “C’mon, we better go before someone catches us up here.”

After they stood and cleared away the blankets, they helped each other look somewhat presentable. Tenley straightened the collar of his shirt and tried to tame the flecks of gold in his ruffled hair. Then, they made their way down the spiral steps.

As they walked through the halls together, Cedric received multiple well wishes from passing students while Tenley was met with looks of disdain.

He took hold of her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

They shared a smile.

Then, nearing the Great Hall, she suddenly heard the panicked holler of her name. Tenley turned to see her mom and brother sprinting towards her.

Brow furrowed, she mumbled, “What on earth...?”

Her mom threw her arms around Tenley, causing her to drop Cedric’s hand. Then, she grabbed her shoulders and demanded, “Where’ve you been?”

“Uh… I- I mean-”

Before she could come up with an answer, her mom lowered her voice and said, “Your dad is missing.”

Looking past the thick frames covering half her mom’s face, Tenley stared dumbfounded into her copper eyes, and said, “What do you mean he’s missing?”

“We were supposed to meet this morning and he never showed,” Reyna quickly explained. “No one’s seen him. Then, I go look for my children and learn that my daughter never made it to her bed last night!”

Her mom directed a sharp glare at Cedric, then said, “You better go, Mr. Diggory. Your parents will be looking for you.”

Concerned, he said, “How can I help?”

“I think you’ve done enough,” she replied shortly.

Tenley’s eyes widened.

She felt Cedric’s hand squeeze her shoulder as he whispered, “See you tonight.”

Then, with a polite nod to Reyna, he turned toward the Great Hall.

When he reached the entrance, he looked back at Tenley and gave her one last reassuring smile before disappearing behind the large oak doors.

She turned on her mom, “What was that?!”

“Here I am thinking you’re dead in a ditch somewhere,” she grimaced. “And you’re out with some boy.”

In disbelief, Fitz emphasized under his breath, “Diggory?”

Ignoring him, Tenley crossed her arms and said, “I’m sure dad’s fine. You’ve checked his classroom?”

“His classroom. His office. His living quarters,” she listed off. “He’s gone.”

“There’s no need to jump to con-”

“I know him, Tenley,” her mom asserted. “Something’s wrong… especially after the attack this week...”

“It was just kids!” she declared.

Fitz’ mouth hung open, then he accused “You know who did it.”

“I know it was an accident.”

“How does a classroom accidentally get destroyed?!” he yelped.

“Ten,” her mom leveled with her. “You need to tell me what you know.”

“It’s nothing. Some fourth years, and a protest gone wrong-”

Tenley hesitated.

She thought of Avery, and how strange she was acting yesterday.

“Listen, I’ve got class,” she finally said, shaking the thought away. “I’ll catch up with you both later...”

Leaving them standing in the entrance hall, Tenley headed down to the dungeons to quickly change out of yesterday’s clothes. Her mind kept drifting to her dad, so on her way to History of Magic, she stopped by his office.

Empty.

She found it difficult to concentrate on her morning exam. All of the names and dates jumbled together, and no matter how hard she tried to shove it down, anxiety kept needling its way in.

Then, when her dad wasn’t at the head table during lunchtime, her nerves escalated. She took a detour to the Muggle Studies corridor.

Still, no sign of him.

Eventually, Tenley made her way back to the Slytherin common room. There, she found her friends all sitting around the leather couches near the fireplace, everyone except the petite pixie-cut girl.

“Where’s Ave?” she interrupted.

They all turned their heads to look up at her.

Hazel exclaimed, “There yuh are!”

“Where were you?” Camilla added. “I tried to cover for you this morning, but your mom was freaking out.”

Tenley waved away the question, then tried again. “Have you seen Avery?”

“Not since last night. Why?”

Tenley perched on the arm of the couch and sighed, “Death Eaters are planning something tonight, and she knows what it is.”

“So?” Odin said. “I’m sure they’re just trying to make a statement.”

“I’m worried about my dad…”

“Did he not show up this morning?” Camilla asked.

Brow furrowed, she replied, “What do you mean?”

“Ave passed along your note. The one to meet up with him? She said you couldn’t remember the right spell, so I sent it off for you.”

Blood pulsed loudly in her ears as Tenley whispered, “I never-”

Suddenly, she turned and ran toward the spiral steps.

“Ave?!” she shouted while bursting through the dormitory door. She threw open the curtain of the girl’s cove, and only found the towers of nameless books that led to her neatly-made bed. Tenley hurtled forward, then began ripping off the sheets and pillows.

Footsteps pattered down the hall until Hazel and Camilla stood in the opening.

“Ten,” Hazel breathed heavily. “What’s goin’ on?”

Finding nothing underneath the mattress, Tenley started grabbing random books and rifling through the pages.

“She’s been writing to someone… There’s got to be something here…”

“What are yuh sayin’?

Tenley gave her friends a grim look. “Whatever note you sent to my dad, it didn’t come from me.”

“C’mon,” Camilla countered. “It’s Ave. She would nev-”

Her words faltered as Tenley flung an envelope straight up into the air.

Buried in the bottom of the side dresser, she found a letter that had a wax seal of a snake wrapped around a scepter of fire. She hurriedly opened it and read aloud, “Miss Burke, we thank you for your tip. It’s truth-seekers like you that keep our Torch burning…”

Slowly lowering the letter, Tenley whispered, “She saw my secret in the ledger… she told the newspaper.”

Speechless, Hazel and Camilla could only stare at her as she continued.

“We’ve got to find her.”

Tenley rushed past them.

“Hold up!” Camilla called, following her back up the stairs. When they reached the common room, a hand caught hold of her arm. “Let’s think this through.”

“What’s there to say?” she snapped back.

“We’ll help yuh find her,” Hazel assured. “We’ll ge’ this all cleared up,”

“Cleared up?” she sputtered. “I trusted her!”

Cass’ large frame appeared behind Hazel and placed his on hands on her shoulders, “What’s this?”

With a sigh, Camilla answered first, “We can’t find Ave, and Ten thinks she has it out for her dad.”

Between thin lips, Tenley said, “She talked to the Torch, and sent him a fake note. What else am I supposed to think?”

Odin piped in, “What’d the note say exactly?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Camilla said, “It just asked to meet in the garden this morning...”

“We’ll check there first,” Cass offered.

Tenley pinched the bridge of her nose. “You guys should get to class.”

“We’re not leaving yuh,” Hazel said. “Let’s go.”

As they all made their way out into the hallway and up the stairs to the courtyard, they found themselves caught behind a group of Durmstrang students. One of them, she noticed, had particularly large ears.

“Miko!”

Their square-jawed friend turned around and acknowledged them with a slight nod. Although they hadn’t seen much of him since the Yule Ball, he hung back to talk.

“Have you seen Avery at all?”

Confused, he asked, “Who?”

“Red hair, always reading,” Cass called back.

“Alvays reading…” he pondered, then recognition lit up his colorless eyes. “Ve passed her. Third floor. By the trophy room.”

Odin snorted, “She’s not actually headed to Ancient Runes, is she?”

“Vhat’s vrong?”

“Long story,” Camilla waved away.

He shrugged, “I’ve got time.”

Her lips lifted into a smile as she bashfully tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. Then, shaking herself out of it, Camilla ushered them all into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” she instructed. “Cass and Haze will check the garden. Tenley and Odin, you go to the third floor. As for Miko and I… well, I have an idea where she might be. We meet back here in a half hour.”

Nodding their heads in agreement, they took their cues and split up.

On their way upstairs, Odin observed Tenley, then said, “Where were you all night?”

She gave him a stony look and said, “Is this the time?”

“Just wondering,” he replied defensively, putting up his hands.

Reaching a landing, they paused by an empty ledge and watched a marble staircase slowly glide towards them.

“I’m sure your dad’s fine,” he offered.

Tenley scowled, “She put a target on his back.”

“I’m not saying she shouldn’t have done it,” he qualified. “But you’ve got to admit… people had a right to know.”

“And the note?” she challenged.

His lips twisted to the side “That, I don’t know… but it’s Ave. It can’t be too bad.”

“She’s been in contact with Death Eaters, Odin. Last time I checked, they’re not known for their benevolence.”

“Whatever it is, it’s for the good of the movement.”

“The movement?” she exclaimed. “Is that all you care about? They could hurt him!”

With a shrug, he said, “People get caught in the crossfire.”

As the marble staircase thudded into place, Tenley gave him a dirty look, then stormed up the steps.

“Ten-” Odin called out.

At the top, she headed straight for the trophy room, then froze at the doorway.

She heard the low, languid voice of a man inside.

“I expect you’ll be prefect next year.”

In return, she heard Draco Malfoy sneer, “Only if Blaise doesn’t get it.”

The door was cracked open just enough for her to see the back of the boy’s blonde head next to a sturdy man with long white hair. They were standing in front of a case of school plaques and medals.

“I’ll see if I can put in a good word,” he replied nonchalantly.

“With who? The headmaster?”

“Severus will have more sway,” he reasoned. “I’ll see if I can catch him before tonight’s… events.”

Draco looked up at him, “Will you be able to watch the tournament?”

“If all goes to plan, I may be able to catch the end of it.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” the boy muttered. “I can help!”

“No,” he said coolly. “Your antics this week nearly ruined everything. What if you were caught? How would that have looked for our family?”

Tenley whipped her head around to find Odin, listening closely, eyebrows raised.

“At least I did something…” Draco grumbled.

“You’re not to get involved,” he affirmed, grabbing his shoulder. “Do you understand?”

Once he saw the boy nod, he turned and said, “Let’s go.”

For a split second, the man’s cold eyes connected with Tenley through the crack in the door. Her body jolted and she took off down the hall with Odin close on her heels. Rounding a corner, they paused to catch their breath and listened carefully for footsteps. Once they were in the clear, Tenley whispered, “He’s in on it.”

“Malfoy’s dad?”

She nodded, “You heard him. He’s not here for the tournament. There’s something else happening tonight… We’ve got to find Ave.”

After checking her classroom, the girl’s bathroom, and every nook where she could be reading on the third floor, they gave up and headed back. When they reached the main staircase, they saw the top of Cass’ caramel curls and Hazel’s sand-colored braid standing in the Entrance Hall. Their friends were talking in hushed voices.

“Any luck?” Odin called as they hopped down the last few steps.

The looked up at them with grave faces.

“What?” Tenley asked impatiently. “What’d you find?”

Hazel reluctantly held up a scrap of torn navy-blue fabric.

Her stomach plummeted. Tenley took hold of it, moving her thumb over the course texture of her dad’s sport coat.

“He didn’t go quietly,” Cass said. “Signs of struggle. Drops of blood in the grass.”

Suddenly, she felt dizzy.

Odin steadied her with his hand.

Closing her eyes, Tenley shook her head, then whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“We’ll find him,” he assured.

The clip of footsteps grew louder and they turned to find Camilla and Miko, also looking grim as they strode up to the group.

Camilla spoke first, “We found her.”

Darkly, Tenley demanded, “Where is she?”

“She admitted to it,” the girl continued. “The Torch and the note. But she doesn’t know where your dad is or what they’re planning.”

In a warning tone, Tenley repeated, “Where is she, Cam?”

“I told her to stay away for a while-”

“You think she deserves your protection?”

Camilla sighed, “She made a mistake.”

“A mistake!” she yelped. “My dad’s in danger, and she set the trap!”

“I don’t like what she did, okay?” Eyes peeking out from behind her curtain of black bangs, Camilla looked around the group. “Now, think. What’s our next move?”

“Snape?” Hazel offered.

Tenley shook her head, “Moody’ll know what to do.”

They rushed over to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and found a piece of parchment stuck to the door stating that class was cancelled today.

Frustrated, Cass said, “Now what?”

“I have an idea,” she said hesitantly.

They all followed her to the library where she took out her Arithmancy textbook and a few scrolls of parchment.

“If I use the right equations and collect the right data sets…I can narrow down where he is.”

Skeptically, Odin asked, “How long will that take?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t covered the ‘find your missing parent’ unit in class yet,” she grumbled back.

“It sounds complicated.”

“It is,” she agreed. “But I don’t know what else to try. He could be anywhere…”

Heart beating in her throat, she felt the pressure of each second that passed as she started scratching down numbers. Her friends talked quietly amongst themselves. Every few minutes, they watched her as she tapped her wand on the parchment, calculating and rearranging the data. After almost an hour, she looked up from her paper.

“He’s in the forest.”

“Yuh sure?” Hazel asked.

“Seventy-two percent…” she replied. “I don’t know what part though. We’ll have to split up.”

“We should tell someone,” Camilla countered. “Have the professors search.”

Tenley shook her head. “There’s no more time to waste. Who’s coming?”

She looked around at their slouched shoulders and uncertain faces.

“What? This is where you draw the line?”

Camilla spoke for them, “It’s not a good plan, Ten. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

“I’ll go,” Odin offered.

Surprised, they all turned to stare at him.

Hazel narrowed her eyes, “What’s in it for yuh?”

“I want to help, okay?” he said defensively.

Impatiently, Tenley said, “Fine. Let’s go.”

Halfway out the door, she looked to the rest of her friends and said, “In the meantime, find Moody.”

They nodded, and then, she was on the move.

Odin worked to keep up with her stride as she bolted out onto the grounds. For a moment, she stared at the expansive tree line of the Forbidden Forrest.

“Where do we start?” he mumbled.

Without an answer, she took off toward the greenhouses. As they entered through the brush and ventured farther into the thicket of trees, the clear blue sky began to disappear from view. The light from the tips of their wands illuminated the dense foliage surrounding them. They kept quiet, listening close for any hint of movement other than the snaps and cracks of their own shoes.

“Did you hear that?” Odin breathed.

Tenley’s steps slowed to a stop.

There was a rustle of leaves and she directed her light at the ground. Then, they watched as a ball of silver fur sauntered out of the bushes.

Under her breath, Tenley scolded, “Matilda.”

The cat gave a polite meow as Odin leaned down to scratch her chin.

“How’d you escape again?” he cooed.

Tenley pulled at his arm, “We’ve got to go.”

Matilda tensed, then walked toward an opening in the brush. She flashed her large green eyes at them expectantly.

“She wants us to follow,” Odin murmured. Before Tenley could argue, he added, “Have any better ideas?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she strode over to the cat. “Go on then.”

For the next few minutes, they kept their beams of light downward on Matilda as she led them to a trail that snaked up a hill. When they reached the top, the surrounding trees began to thin and sunlight trickled down onto the forest floor.

They saw a bright clearing in the distance.

Tenley extinguished the light from her wand and quickened her pace.

Behind her, the sound of an arrogant laugh made her freeze. Whipping around, she looked into the face of a metal skull.

“Stupefy.”

There was a flash of red, then everything went black.

* * *

When Tenley came to, she first noticed the thick ropes wrapped across her chest. She tried to move, but her arms were constricted tight to her sides.

“It’s okay, Ten,” a soft voice said. She turned her head and saw her mom sitting next to her, bound to the same tree. There was a fierce conviction in her eyes. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She looked around the small, empty clearing. The sun had lowered below the tree line, leaving a dim light in the cloudless sky. There was no one else around.

“Wh-where-” Tenley stuttered. “Where are they?”

Reyna was silent.

“Mom?”

Avoiding her eye, she replied, “They let him go… to hunt him.”

Tenley felt sick.

“It’s a game to them,” her mom continued bitterly. “A way to prove they’re power.”

Her body began to shake as she whispered, “What’re they gonna do?”

“Don’t you worry,” she affirmed.

Then, as if needing to convince herself, she quickly continued. “He’ll be okay. He’s got luck on his side. His coin will protect him.”

“But how?”

Tenley watched the words wrestle behind her mom’s copper eyes until she said, “Trust me. No matter what happens, that coin will save him.”

It felt like a hand had clenched around her gut and twisted.

Voice barely audible, Tenley uttered, “He- he doesn’t have it.”

Her mom’s brow furrowed. Then, along with comprehension, muted horror slowly crept across her face.

Tenley’s vision swam as she cried, “I took it. It’s my fault!”

Reyna hushed her and said, “I need you to stay calm.”

Swallowing back her tears, she shakily asked, “Where’s Fitz? …where’s Odin?”

“Your friend is with them,” she said grimly. “They recognized him. Knew his parents….”

For a moment, she had a glimmer of hope. Odin would outsmart them. He’d help them escape.

“And your brother is safe,” Reyna affirmed. “I told him to wait for Kingsley back at the castle.”

Tenley nodded as they suddenly heard footsteps behind them.

A raspy voice grew clear enough to hear, “…I thought it was the muggle, but it was just some guy.”

“What’s he doin’ out here?” a nasally man responded.

“Hell if I know. He was looking at some tree.”

Off in the distance, a horn blared.

“They’ve got him,” the man rasped. “Leave the old guy.”

The thud of a body hit the ground, and the two men hurried off in the direction of the ominous sound.

Imagining her dad in the clutches of the Death Eaters, Tenley’s heart sank.

Reyna struggled against their ropes, then let out a frustrated gasp. “We need to get out of here.”

Magic was no help to them. Their wands were likely laying in the grass somewhere. Tenley looked at their surroundings, wracking her brain for something. Anything.

“Odin will think of something,” she assured.

Her mom grimaced, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What about Kingsley?” she offered half-heartedly.

“No one knows where we are. I only came in here ‘cause I saw Lucius Malfoy sneaking in.”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone first?” Tenley yelped. “Moody should at least know that we’re in the forest.”

“Moody should’ve kept this from happening. He was supposed to protect him.”

“He doesn’t think dad should be here…” she admitted. “He – he wants the Dark Lord to come back.”

Reyna’s body tensed, “Why would you say something like that?”

Defensively, she said, “He told me! He thinks that’s the only way to restore the wizarding world.”

“Whoever said that was not Alastor Moody,” her mom stated. “He’s worked his whole career-”

Before she could finish, a group of hooded figures in black robes entered the other side of the shadowed clearing. Their faces were covered in intricate silver skull-like masks that only had slits for their eyes. Next to them, looking out of place, was a teenage boy with spiked hair. Her friend, Odin, didn’t look her way. Instead, his heavy-lidded eyes were focused on the body.

Gliding behind them, her unconscious dad was hovering a few feet above the ground. The navy-blue sport coat hung off of him in tatters. His chest was exposed, and at its center, jagged red lines made the shape of an “M”. Her dad floated closer to them, making it easier to see the flayed marks seared into his skin.

Staring at his mangled frame, Tenley felt lightheaded enough to pass out.

Then, she felt a hand slightly graze hers.

She looked to her side. Although tears were spilling down her mom’s cheek, Tenley found the same sense of conviction in her gaze.

“Wake him,” a masked man casually commanded.

There was a wave of a wand, and her dad jerked awake. Thrashing in the air, confined by invisible chains, he let out an agonizing scream.

“Silencio.”

Despite his visible screams and snarls, no sound came from him.

“Fitzgerald Wright,” another Death Eater spit out her dad’s name as if it was poison in his mouth. “Did you think we wouldn’t find you here? That Dumbledore would protect you? How stupid of you to show your face. We’ve never forgotten.”

His old, crackly voice continued, “How good it feels to spill your blood like you did my friend. If only I could make you suffer like he did. Feel the betrayal he felt from his only daughter.”

“And you,” he turned to her mother. “Was killing him not enough? You also had to spit on his grave? Procreating with scum. Tainting his bloodline. Thames Shacklebolt was the best of us… Him and Cynthia. Did you know that we reconnected at her funeral? It’d been years since some of us had seen each other, and how nice to come together again. To organize. To demonstrate our power at the World Cup.”

“We knew this tournament would be our next event, but how surprised we were to learn you ended up here. Almost too perfect. What better than to display your muggle flesh outside of the stadium for all the good witches and wizards of Hogwarts to see.”

Another hooded figure stepped forward and gripped his shoulder. Tenley heard a low, languid voice that she recognized from earlier in the day. “Enough. The tournament will finish soon. We must position him.”

“Let the kid do it,” the raspy voice called out. “Let him prove himself.”

Lucius replied, “Interesting… Alright then, boy. Who’s first? The scum, the traitor, or the half-blood?”

Pale as a ghost, Odin’s eyes shifted wildly around the group of hooded figures.

“Here. Use this.” One of them thrust a wand into his hand. It had an unmistakable reddish hue with floral etchings on the handle.

He could only stare at it.

“We don’t got all day,” said the nasally Death Eater.

“Isn’t this what you want?” Lucius added. “That’s what the Burke girl said. That the youngest Sideris wants to join. Wants to help the movement. I didn’t believe it until you showed up tonight – delivering his daughter to us on a silver platter.”

Her friend lifted her wand and shakily pointed it at her dad.

“Odin!” Tenley shrieked.

Closing his eyes, he lowered his head.

“Hush, girl,” The elder one snipped, then silenced her with his wand. He leaned close to the boy’s ear, “Think of how proud your mother and father will be. To know their son stands for something.”

Odin gripped her wand tighter and set his jaw as he looked up at the floating man.

Her dad had grown still, no longer resisting the spell. Instead, his eyes were drawn to his wife and child. Apologetically, he mouthed the words, “I love you”, but instead, she heard her friend say “A-avada kedavra!”

No one heard Tenley’s blood-curdling scream.

However, when she finally opened her eyes, nothing had changed.

“It’s a powerful spell. You have to mean it,” Lucius instructed, putting his hands on Odin’s shoulders. “Again.”

As he repositioned himself and took a deep breath, Tenley felt her mom wince and wriggle next to her.

“My arm,” a Death Eater shouted, looking around the circle. He pulled down the sleeve of his robes to display the tattoo on his pale forearm. “It burns.”

Others clutched their own arms.

There was silence, then the raspy man whispered, “He’s back.”

With a hint of fear in their voice, one cried, “How is that possible?”

“We must go to him,” Lucius said grimly.

They all let this sink in.

“What do we do with them?” the elder posed.

“There’s no time,” he replied simply. “Leave them.”

“At least kill the muggle.”

Impatiently, Lucius snapped back, “We can’t disapparate on Hogwarts grounds. We must go. Now!”

“Go,” Odin mumbled. “I - I’ve got it.”

“The Dark Lord will reward you,” he assured him. “You’re one of us.”

Then, the hooded figures turned and hurried off. Once there was enough distance, the spell wore off, and her dad collapsed to the ground, choking and gasping for air.

Tenley began to breathe again.

However, Odin still had her wand directed at her dad’s throat.

“They’re gone,” she said feebly. “You can put it down.”

“Muggles have to pay for what they’ve done, Ten.”

“Please,” Tenley cried. “That’s my dad. I’m on your side!

Looking over at her with pleading eyes, he said, “How will it look if I fail, huh? I can’t do that to my family.”

“We’ll figure it out!” she yelped. “I’ll help you.”

Her dad gingerly raised himself up and gazed up at Odin. “I’m not your enemy.”

He shook his spikey head, “I’m sorry…”

Suddenly, Gerry lunged.

He pulled the boy down, and amid a mess of flailing limbs, he managed to pin his back to the ground. Odin struggled against his weight. Despite the exhaustion and wounds covering his body, Gerry was stronger.

Through gritted teeth, Odin said, “Hit me like the savage you are.”

Gerry hesitated.

Instead, her dad clawed the redwood wand out of the boy’s hand and flung it across the clearing. Odin used the opportunity to crawl out from under his clutches. Gerry grabbed at his feet as the boy frantically searched his robes until he found the handle of his own wand, then pulled it on him.

Her dad froze.

Odin quickly got to his feet and pointed the weapon directly between his target’s eyes. Breathing heavy, he said, “This is for wizardkind.”

“AVADA-”

A red beam of light flew across the clearing and hit the center of Odin’s chest. He crumpled to the ground.

Then, the ropes around Tenley and Reyna disappeared.

Without a moment of hesitation, they both scampered to their feet and ran to Gerry. As his wife reached his side, he collapsed into her, resting his head on her shoulder as Reyna whispered reassurances in his ear.

Tenley curled up under her dad’s arm, sobbing uncontrollably.

They stayed like that until she heard her mom choke out, “Who are you?”

Unclenching her puffy eyes, Tenley saw a figure in the distance.

When he hobbled closer, the moonlight revealed a grizzled old man with ash-white hair and bushy eyebrows.

“Phineas?”

The man nodded. Then, his gruff voice rang out, “We should get him to the hospital wing… I don’t know what to do about the boy.”

Glancing over at Odin, Tenley got up and stood over his unconscious body. Her hands shook as she picked up the dainty willow wand from his fingers.

Without a thought, she snapped it in two.

Gripping tight to the broken pieces, she felt all the fury and sorrow and pity fuse through her veins. Her tears kept falling.

“Ten,” her mom said. “Let’s get him up.”

Tenley turned and helped lift Gerry to his feet.

His dark hair was matted with blood, and up close, she could more clearly see the gashes and marks across his exposed arms and torso. Most sinister was the letter “M,” branded like cattle, in the middle of his chest.

Disgust and hatred intermingled with her own guilt as she whispered, “What have they done?”

“We don’t think about that now,” Reyna affirmed.

In a hoarse voice, her dad said, “It’s gonna be okay, T-leaf.”

Her mom supported his weight as Gerry began limping across the clearing. Then, he paused in front of Phineas Black Junior.

“I’m very grateful.”

The old man shook his head at the ground and grunted, “Dumb luck.”

“Story of my life,” her dad replied with a pained smile.

Nodding over to Odin, Phineas asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Leave him,” Tenley muttered.

Gerry was more sympathetic. “Let Dumbledore decide. Bring him back with us.”

Without any more discussion, Phineas levitated Odin’s body behind them as they all made their way out of the forest.

Tenley continued to keep stride with the old man.

“What were you doing in there?” she questioned.

He let out a sigh, then said, “Our tree. It’s been years since I last saw it.”

Tenley’s brow furrowed. “The crime scene?”

“Yes, well, before that, it was our spot. A place where no one could find us.”

“You and…?”

“Dora,” he said simply. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her.”

Under her breath, she connected the dots, “Dorothy… You – you were friends?”

His dark eyes met Tenley’s, then he gave her a sad smile.

“You could say that.”

She tried to digest this information as they climbed out of the brush and back onto the Hogwarts grounds. The wind carried the sound of soft chatter in the distance. Directly in front of them, the oval walls and surrounding towers of the quidditch pitch were in clear view.

“Do you think they’ve got a champion by now?” Phineas offered.

Her mind flitted to Cedric.

After the night she’d had, she longed to be in his arms… but there was no way she was leaving her family.

“Tenley,” her mom interrupted her thoughts. “Go find the headmaster. He needs to know.”

A newfound energy buzzed beneath her feet.

Maybe she’d be able to keep her promise after all.

Sprinting forward, Tenley called over her shoulder, “I’ll meet you back at the castle!”

The stars in the dark blue sky kept a watchful eye on her on as she raced across the grounds. With each stride, the crowd of voices grew louder. As she reached the stadium’s front entrance, she hoped she wasn’t too late.

When she entered, Tenley first noticed that wooden bleachers had been erected, tall enough to see over the massive green hedges of the maze. The stands were filled with students and onlookers, talking animatedly with each other, but none seemed to be focused on the field. She climbed the steps to join the crowd, then caught sight of Cedric’s friend, Sulley, and walked over to him.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Sulley observed her skeptically, then said, “We’re waiting to see who won. Cedric and Potter got to the trophy at the same time, but then… disappeared. That was almost an hour ago.”

Another Hufflepuff boy leaned over and chimed in, “We figure there’s a final tie-breaker.”

“I just wish we could see it,” Sulley grumbled.

Tenley continued to scan the bleachers. The whole school seemed to be present, including her housemates.

At that moment, the thought of them made her sick.

Who else was in on it? Who could she trust?

Her hand clutched the snake crest on the front of her robes, desperately wanting to rip it off her chest. Then, at the sight of Draco Malfoy, her body began to quake. There he was, casually laughing with friends, all while his dad had gone hunting.

Remnants of panic from the last hour pressed down on her again, and she remembered why she was there.

Dumbledore.

Although she didn’t trust the man, he was their only hope for justice. Her eyes landed on his long beard and lanky frame, pacing back and forth on the field.

Tenley rushed down the steps toward the headmaster. When she reached him, she abruptly said, “Death Eaters took my dad and tried to kill him.”

There was a fire in his blue eyes as he firmly said, “Where is he?”

“We found him in the forest. Mom’s taking him to the hospital-”

Before she could explain further, someone in the crowd shouted, “LOOK!”

Above them, all heads turned toward the field. People began pointing and standing to get a better view. Whispers slowly emerged, then grew more frantic.

“It’s them!” – He’s got the cup!” – “…why’re they lying like that?”

A few yards away, by the edge of the maze, two people had appeared in the grass.

Screams erupted from the stands, and Dumbledore took off.

Several other teachers and ministry officials quickly gathered around, blocking Tenley from the scene. Nearing closer, she saw Harry Potter sprawled face-down, chest heaving. One hand clutched the Triwizard Cup while the other clung onto… someone else.

As she watched Potter tighten his grip around another’s wrist, there were whispers and gasps of “he’s dead!”

Her feet stopped working.

Then, a man yelled out to the crowd, “Cedric Diggory! Dead!”

Tenley forgot how to breathe.

As people swarmed around, all she could do was stare at the grass where Cedric laid. She caught flashes of him.

Body rigid, his glassy grey eyes gazed up at the sky.

Denial bored a hole in her chest, but there he was.

The golden prefect.

The boy from the train.

The man she loved.

Dead.

Somewhere in the distance she heard her name.

Eventually, a gentle hand landed on her back. “Did you know him?”

She slowly looked up into the solemn face of her former tutor, Terrance. It’d been nearly a year since the night they sat together on Peet’s Hill. There was something about his brown eyes, the warmth and familiarity of his gaze, that caused reality to burrow its way in.

Her lip quivered.

Then, her legs gave out.

Terrance kept her upright, holding her tight to him for what could have been a minute or an hour.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he finally said.

Muscles stiff and vision blurry, she let him lead the way.

Relying on the support of his arm wrapped around her waist, Tenley searched for a way to communicate the gravity of her loss. Words seemed insufficient, so she remained silent as Terrance got her across the grounds.

Once they reached the castle entrance, she directed them to the hospital wing.

There, she found her family.

Her dad was asleep, lying on top of crisp white sheets. They had removed his torn dress shirt and jacket, so that his branded chest was bare.

“Jesus,” Terrance said under his breath.

Reyna sat next to him, carefully dabbing his last few wounds with a wet cloth that hissed with each application. Her brother, Fitz, stood over them, his expression graver than she had ever seen.

Looking up at them as they reached his bedside, her mom addressed Tenley, “Did you find Dumbledore?”

She gave a stiff nod.

“Where is he? Is he coming?” her mom continued impatiently.

Terrance stepped in. “There’s been… an accident.”

“What could be more important than this?!”

“A boy,” he tried to explain. “One of the champions has died.”

Her eyes widened. “Potter?”

“No, the other one. Diggory.”

Eyes closed, Tenley desperately wanted to disappear.

“Ten…” her mom said softly.

Something about her tone made Tenley pause. The coin.

Her eyes flew open. “You said it would protect him.”

“Wh-what?” Reyna stuttered.

“The coin!” she cried. “Why didn’t it work? Why didn’t it save him!?”

Gerry winced, beginning to stir.

“What are you talking about?” her mom said sternly. “You said you had the coin.”

Fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, Tenley said, “Cedric has it. I gave it to Cedric, and now… now…”

They were all silent until her dad’s gravelly voice rang out, “There’s only one way to know for sure.”

“Gerry,” her mom warned.

“It’s the boy’s life,” he countered.

Her dad gingerly lifted himself up in bed and grabbed the striped pajama shirt folded on his nightstand.

“You need to rest!” Reyna exclaimed.

“I will, love,” he said as he stood and began buttoning his shirt. “But first, we need to see if his soul survived.”

Tenley couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Softly, she breathed the word “soulcatcher.”

Her brother looked back and forth between her parents. “You’re saying it’s true? The Golden Fleece? You have it?”

“Let’s focus,” her dad waved away. “If the boy died while carrying that coin… he has a chance.”

Knock! Knock!

They all looked over and found Phineas Black Junior in the doorway. There was no telling how long he’d been standing there.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Kingsley is guarding the kid, but… I was hoping to have a word with Tenley before I go.”

“Now’s not a good time,” she called back.

A flicker of hope had ignited within her.

They had to bring Cedric back. That’s all that mattered.

“This man saved my life, Ten,” her dad said. “At least give him a minute while I grab the map.”

Reyna asserted, “I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes, dear,” he said with a smile, then turned his attention to their former tutor. “So glad you could join us, Terrance. How ‘bout you and Fitz go find where’ve they’ve taken the body?”

They both nodded and followed Gerry as he limped to the door.

“We’ll meet back in my office,” he instructed before dipping into the hall with his wife close behind.

Then, she was left alone with the old man.

“Do you have the ring?” he asked.

Tenley sighed. She didn’t want to deal with this now.

“I left my bag in the library,” she mumbled. “I can get it.”

As they made their way out of the hospital wing, Phineas said, “I’m sorry for my behavior in the bar.”

With a shrug, she replied, “I think you’ve made up for it tonight.”

“That ring was never supposed to see the light of day,” he continued.

“Why’s that?”

Grimly, he said, “It has a mind of its own.”

That was definitely one way to describe the sphinx. She thought back to all the times it had communicated with her…

“It showed me things,” Tenley admitted.

His bushy eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of things?”

“Mostly visions of Dorothy.”

“Visions?” he repeated. “I never saw anything like that… If I had known it’s power, I never would’ve given it to her.”

“Why did you?” she asked as they reached the large wooden doors.

His dark eyes connected with hers. “Why’d you give that boy a coin?”

Tenley stared at him.

Simply, she stated, “You loved her.”

“Loved?” he grunted. “I never stopped.”

He followed her into the dark lantern-lit library, back to the area where she had crunched numbers earlier in the day. Under the table, she took hold of her canvas bag, and dug around its front pocket until her fingers found warm silver.

Facing him again, Tenley said, “Why’d you kill her then?”

With a heavy sigh, he said, “I still don’t understand it.”

As if watching the memory in his mind, Phineas closed his eyes.

“We were at our spot. I put my ring on her finger, and then… her necklace – the one she always wore - it wrapped around her throat. No matter what we did, it kept getting tighter and tighter until she couldn’t breathe… And then, within minutes, she was gone.”

Skeptically, she said, “You think the ring did it?”

“I have no other explanation.”

“But… why Dorothy?”

The old man shook his head. “All I know is that it needs to be destroyed.”

In her hands, she felt the ring grow hot. Tenley looked down at the disgruntled face of the silver sphinx.

Then, a small circular light appeared.

The flood of technicolor grew and enveloped Tenley as she yelled “NO!”

Suddenly, she was thrown under the blinding light of the sun.

As her eyes adjusted, Tenley found herself back in the forest. She recognized the small clearing of tall white aspen trees from pictures and the Pensieve.

The original crime scene.

“Don’t give it to him,” a woman asserted.

She turned to find Medea, staring straight at her. The princess had aged significantly. Her thin frame was draped in light flowing cloth, and her black curls were graying, which reminded her even more of her own mother.

There was no one else around.

“Wh- what?” Tenley stuttered. “Listen, I need to get back. Cedric-”

“Not that boy again…” the woman said, rolling her eyes.

“There’s a chance to save him!”

Medea grimaced, “It’s not worth it.”

She shook her head at the ground, then demanded, “Take me back.”

“As long as you protect the ring.”

Eyes narrowed, Tenley said, “You’re the one that’s been showing me visions.”

“Yes, well, it was rather boring – being buried in the dirt for so long,” she replied coolly.

The surrounding forest began to change.

As if months were passing in seconds before her eyes, the foliage began to wilt and the grass under her feet turned brittle. In blinks of an eye, leaves changed color, then snowflakes began to fall. The four seasons repeated on a loop as the circle of destruction grew. Nearby trees started to smoke and crumble to the ground, except for one. In the center, a prominent aspen tree remained, etched with the numbers “10:1”.

Medea walked around it, observing the white pock-marked bark.

The scene had settled on a winter day, exactly like the morning after the Yule Ball. Amidst the snow, there was a circle of dead grass around the lonely tree.

“I never understood why I couldn’t touch this one,” Medea mused. “No matter… I figured someone would notice eventually, and how nice that it was a direct descendent of mine.”

Seeing Medea manipulate the clearing, Tenley thought back to the flowers that Cedric had given her – how they had grown and died at the ring’s discretion.

“He’s right,” Tenley accused. “You killed her – didn’t you?”

“I did,” she confirmed. “And I’d do it again. Luckily, she wore that vitanima around her neck. I only can influence living things.”

She pictured the dark eyes of young Phineas, staring horrified at the body of his love, strangled from her own necklace.

Tenley whispered, “How could you do that to him?”

“I was protecting him!” she said defensively. “The boy was about to ruin his life, abandon his family, and commit himself to a mortal… Like I did.”

“Her blood status? That’s what this is about?”

The princess scoffed, “I still don’t know what he saw in her… I tried to show you. She was an annoying little cheat.”

“That’s no reason to kill her!” she exclaimed.

“They’re all the same, Tenley,” she casually waved away. “You should know that by now. Mortals feel threatened by our power. Therefore, they will always find ways to control us.”

“You’re wrong. My dad-”

“Really?” Medea said in a bored tone. “Defending a man who stole the Fleece? Oh, how history repeats itself… He has no business with that map.”

“He doesn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.”

“As if his are the right ones?!” she challenged. “It belongs to our bloodline. We are the guardians. Not him.”

“You’re the one that let it get lost in the first place!”

“And I’ve paid for it,” she muttered. “I never should have let my heart lead me astray and neither should you.”

“Send me back,” Tenley pleaded. “I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.”

Medea pursed her lips and said, “If you keep the ring safe, I’ll show you everything I know.”

“Fine! Just send me back!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Medea said. “Love always comes at a cost.”

Then, the forest spun and everything went black.

As her consciousness surfaced, Tenley heard hushed voices around her.

“It’s not that simple,” her mom confessed.

“Rey…” her dad said firmly. “What do you mean?”

“There has to be a sacrifice.”

Tenley opened her eyes to find she was lying on a couch within her dad’s office. Her parents were standing around his desk along with Terrance, Fitz, and Phineas. She stayed still and listened.

“What was the plan then?” Gerry cried. “Who’s the poor sap to take my place?”

Reyna gave him a look.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” he said darkly. “You’d do that to me?”

“We’re talking about the boy now,” her mom asserted. “What would you have us do? Make the parents decide?”

Without warning, the door opened and Dumbledore strode into the room. He said, “Harry is now safely in the hospital wing, and I must say, Gerald, I was surprised not to find-”

He paused, then said, “Fin? Is that you?”

Phineas walked forward, took hold of his old friend’s hand, and said, “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“The boy’s soul has been saved, Albus,” her dad cut in.

“How can you be sure?”

Gerry hesitated, then looked down at the expansive piece of old parchment lying open on his desk.

“It seems you’ve found a map,” Dumbledore stated calmly.

“Albus, I-”

He put out his hand. “You have your reasons. What does this mean for Mr. Diggory?”

“It’s a family heirloom,” Reyna quickly said. “One of the only zophoras in existence. Tenley gave it to him before the third task.”

“We can prove it works,” her dad declared. “We can bring him back!”

“Only if another person is sacrificed,” Terrance reminded them.

The headmaster shook his head, “Out of the question.”

Tenley sat up and said, “How is it done?”

They all looked her way.

Concerned, her mom said, “Are you alright, love? Mr. Black said you fainted.”

She ignored the question, and repeated herself more firmly. “How is it done?”

“See, Gerry,” her mom scolded. “You’ve given her false hope.”

He sighed, “You know damn well what we’d do for our children. We at least ought to give the Diggory’s a choice.”

Tenley stood and declared, “There is no choice!”

Terrance walked over and put his hand on her shoulder.

She brushed him off and said, “I’ll do it! It should be me!”

Reyna closed her eyes and shook her head.

Slowly, her dad negotiated with her like she was a child, “Tenley, I know it’s been a difficult-”

“I don’t want it!” she shouted. “I don’t want a world without him!”

Her words reverberated around the room until Phineas’ weathered voice rung out, “I know the feeling…”

He shared a look with Dumbledore.

“No,” the headmaster asserted, then addressed the room. “It is tragic that this boy has died at the hands of Lord Voldemort, but it will not be in vain. His death will spur action.”

This was news to all of them.

“Voldemort…” Fitz whispered. “He’s back?”

The door suddenly opened to reveal Professor Snape.

“Sir, I found Fudge in the hospital wing.”

“I must go,” Dumbledore said swiftly, then turned to Tenley. “I am sorry for your loss.”

Her face grew hot as hatred for the man bubbled to the surface. She watched him follow Snape out the door.

Phineas spoke up first, “It’s been a long life… far too long without Dora.”

When his dark eyes locked onto Tenley, she knew what he intended.

Gerry shook his head at the man and said, “We can’t ask that of you.”

“It hasn’t been asked,” he assured. “Now, what do I have to do?”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

“There’s no time to waste,” Phineas tried again.

“You’ve already saved one life tonight,” her dad countered.

The old man shook his head. “If I can exchange the little time I have left to prevent someone else from living my nightmare - I consider it well spent.”

He walked over to Tenley and placed the sphinx ring in her palm.

Finding her voice, she uttered, “You were right… It – it was the ring.”

“You’ll have to destroy it for me,”

The silver warmed against Tenley’s fingers.

“Now,” Phineas clapped his hands. “Let’s find the boy.”

Hesitantly, Gerry asked his wife, “Can you perform the spell?”

Solemnly, she nodded.

They headed toward the door.

Tenley tried to follow, but her mom put out her arm. “You stay here.”

“But-”

“Not now, Ten,” she sighed. “This is sensitive magic.”

Phineas gave her a final smile and whispered, “May you get more days than I did.”

Then, with a wink, he was gone.

She was left with Terrance and Fitz.

Her brother walked over to the couch and sat with his head in his hands. “What the hell is happening?”

Terrance sat down next to him and said, “I’m gonna need a bit more context.”

Fitz spent the hour walking him through the events of the past school year, starting with his favorite episode of Mystifying Mysteries. He explained the marking on the tree, the time capsule and the handkerchief, the dueling club and the gambling pool, the case files, and the Pensieve memories.

Tenley kept quiet, pacing the floor impatiently, only half-listening.

“So… who’s Cedric?” Terrance asked.

She froze, and they both looked up at her.

“He - he’s the first person I met here.”

Thinking about the firework on the train, she smiled, then continued. “He showed me around. And… when he was chosen, I tried to help him through the tournament.”

The clubhouse came to mind. His body lying protectively over her, heart racing from the wolf. She saw the twinkle in his eye as she smoothed the belladonna balm over his lips and cheek. Then, his grin when he emerged from the prefect’s bath and pulled her into his arms.

“People love him,” she added. “He’s good with them… Overly optimistic. All about fairness and following the rules, but – but still adventurous. He loves to fly-”

“Did you take him on a carpet?” Terrance smirked.

Tenley broke into a wide smile, “I would if I had one!”

“Still have that deck of cards I gave you?”

“Yeah?”

“All you have to do is-”

They heard the door slowly creak open.

She looked up expectantly at her parents as they wandered in.

Wearing grim expressions, they both averted her eyes.

Tenley’s face fell.

“No,” she whispered,

Her dad limped over to her.

“NO!” she screamed, pushing him away.

He held firm and pressed his lips against her scalp.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

When morning came, Tenley’s swollen eyes opened onto an unfamiliar ceiling.

Jolting up, she looked around the dark room.

Her dad’s office.

Sofa pillow, damp with tears.

The night flooded back in an all-consuming wave of dread.

Without warning, her whole body began to tremble.

“Ten?” she heard a soft voice call.

Although curtains blocked most of the light, she spotted a figure curled up under a bundle of blankets on the floor.

Gripping the arm of the couch, she tried to regain control, but it was all too much. The betrayal of her friends. The pain inflicted on her dad. Phineas’ pointless sacrifice and… and…

A whimper escaped her lips.

Her little brother scrambled out of his cocoon and popped up next to her.

“Hey…” he soothed.

With shaky breath, she whispered, “I want to wake up.”

He gave a somber nod.

Wheezing, she said, “He didn’t deserve it. It should’ve been me.”

Fitz hugged her and mumbled into her shoulder, “No one deserved anything, okay?”

The unmistakable scent of cigarettes wafted into the room.

They found Terrance standing in the doorway with a pile of food in his hands. Based on his wrinkled tan suit and the bags under his eyes, he’d also had a long night. Delivering the plate of biscuits and bacon in front of them, he said, “I stayed away from the blood pudding.”

Tenley sunk back down into the cushions and mumbled, “Not hungry.”

Aside from the dull pounding against her skull, the rest of her body was numb.

“How about a walk?” he offered.

Closing her eyes, Tenley turned her back on him.

With a sigh, he said, “There’s a lot we gotta talk about, kid.”

Fitz stood and said, “Let her be.”

“I would,” he replied. “If I thought it would help.”

His footsteps padded across the carpet, then she felt a hand on her back as he said, “I can’t make it hurt less, Ten… But I can get you answers. Let me do that at least.”

Hesitantly, she met his eye.

“Do you know what happened to him?”

“The killing curse,” he stated. “He got caught in a trap set for Harry Potter. When they both touched the trophy… they were transported off grounds. Lord Voldemort and his followers were waiting for them.”

Tenley thought back to the Death Eaters.

In the forest, she had watched as they realized that the Dark Lord had returned. That’s why they left – to join him. Her dad’s life had been spared… but they just went and took another.

“W-why?” her voice shook.

“Wrong time, wrong place,” he shrugged. “These wizards are dangerous. They hold no value for life outside of their own selfish interests.”

“No,” she rejected, sitting up to face him. “I don’t understand. They’re supposed to stand for something! Moody called it a revolution – a resistance. How does killing innocent people fit into the plan?”

“Your teacher wasn’t who he said he was,” Terrance said sullenly. “He was a Death Eater, using a potion to disguise himself. He’s the one who set the trap.”

The blood drained from her face.

“You’ve got it wrong,” Tenley said, getting to her feet. She ran to the door. “Where is he? I’ve got to talk to him!”

Bolting down the hall, she heard Terrance call after her, “He’s gone!”

When she approached Moody’s office, she ran straight into a wall of purple robes. Looking up at the tall figure, she recognized her uncle, Kingsley.

With somber eyes, he wrapped her into a big hug.

“Where is he?” she breathed.

“The real Alastor Moody has been transferred to St. Mungo’s,” he said in a deep, grave voice. “As for his imposter, he was given over to the dementors... I’ve been going through his belongings. Looks like he stockpiled ingredients for his Polyjuice Potion.”

Tenley thought back to the hours she’d spent grinding lacewing flies, then whispered, “I helped him.”

“I heard about your detentions… Did he say anything of note?”

She thought back to her professor’s ravings and said, “He knew the Dark L-”

Stopping herself, she tried again. “He knew Voldemort was coming back… and – and he wanted the map.”

Kingsley nodded. “Well, let’s be thankful that he never got it.”

“Where is it now?

“Safe.”

“Dumbledore’s gonna try to take it,” Tenley warned.

He observed her with curiosity, then asked, “What’s your concern?”

“That’s why he brought us here,” she grumbled. “To get the map from Dad.”

Shaking his head, Kingsley said, “You’re here because I asked your parents to join The Order.”

“The what?”

Lips thin, he said, “I told them… I told them that you and your brother had a right to know. That they couldn’t shield you from it forever.”

“Tell me,” she urged. “Please.”

“It should come from them,” he murmured. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Then, he started down the hall.

Exasperated, she followed him and said, “Can’t you tell me something?”

“I talked to Odin Sideris last night.”

Tenley froze.

Looking back at her, Kingsley politely acknowledged, “You know him.”

Bitterly, she said, “I want nothing to do with him.”

Continuing down the corridor, Kingsley said, “It’s worse when it comes from a friend.”

“It makes no sense,” Tenley mumbled. “How could he?”

“That’s the power of belief,” he replied grimly. “The stories we tell ourselves. He was willing to do anything to be the hero.”

Fury buzzed beneath her skin.

“Hero?” she scoffed. “He’s a fucking traitor.”

“I’ve seen it before,” Kingsley sighed. “It’s the same playbook. Distrust. Isolation. Fear… I was hoping it’d be better by now, but it always has a way of coming back.”

They turned the corner towards the hospital wing.

Tenley thought about all the time she’d spent with Odin. All the conversations they’d had about the movement.

“What am I supposed to think now?” she said. “Was it all a lie?”

“Not everything,” he assured. “It’ll take time to sort through it. Find the parts you want to keep… and make room for new information.”

“But the Archive-”

“The Archive is a reflection of one viewpoint,” he interrupted. “And a limited one at that. There are many different interpretations of the world, Tenley. All with their own flavors of truth.”

“How do I know the right one?”

He paused for a moment, then said, “No one has all the answers, and we should be weary of anyone who claims they do… That being said, we must not be blinded by hatred, fear… or good intention.”

Tenley tried to wrap her head around this as they approached the large doors. When they walked in, they passed a bed where Harry Potter appeared to be sleeping. Although she never liked the kid, in that moment, she felt a discomforting twinge of doubt.

Yes, The Boy Who Lived was an entitled brat, but… he’d also been targeted and attacked last night. Sympathy wrestled with her contempt.

Further down, they found her dad sitting up in bed while Fitz, Terrance, and Reyna sat around him. His wounds were mended. The blood and dirt had been washed away, but not the sorrow in his blue eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Kingsley offered to Gerry.

“Oh, I’ve been better,” he replied, attempting a smile. He looked around the circle. “But the important thing is that we’re safe and that we’re together.”

Her uncle nodded, then said, “The kids need to understand.”

With childlike terror, Reyna looked up at her brother and quickly shook her head.

“It’s time,” her husband said gently as he took hold of her hand. “They need to make sense of it all.”

There was a tense silence.

Then, shutting her eyes, their mom slowly pulled back the sleeve of her robes to reveal her forearm. It was stained with black ink. A monstrous tattoo that Tenley had never seen on her skin before: a snake emerging from the mouth of a skull. The Dark Mark.

Fitz covered his mouth.

Reyna cleared her throat and said, “I was seventeen.”

The grizzly image made Tenley’s stomach churn. All she could do was stare.

“Our parents were leaders in the Wizard Rights Organization,” Kingsley explained. “We grew up under their doctrine… and I bought into it – until Voldemort showed up. The man was a contradiction to everything they’d taught us. Narcissistic. Dishonest. Cruel. I couldn’t understand why they would abandon all their values to follow him.”

“They didn’t,” his sister said weakly. “Not at first…”

“I was fortunate,” he continued. “Hogwarts gave me outside exposure. As my housemates fell further into extremism, I had friends who helped me question things.”

“And then you left,” Reyna whispered.

He placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder and lowered his voice, “You know I would’ve taken you with me if I could.”

Kingsley turned back to the group and said, “When I came of age, I left home and joined the ministry… Your mum wasn’t as lucky.”

“Looking back, I had a choice,” she quietly stated. “But it didn’t feel like one. Durmstrang prepared us for war. Made us believe it was a cause worth dying for… My father was so proud…”

“He had already joined Voldemort by the time she graduated,” Kingsley clarified. “That’s when I sought out The Order of the Phoenix. An underground group organized by Dumbledore to stop them.”

“We were going to change the world,” Reyna breathed. “Return it back to when wizards ruled… and I believed it. I believed muggles were the problem…”

Softly, Tenley spoke up, “What changed your mind?”

“I got to know one.”

Gerry gave his wife’s hand a squeeze, then said, “We met during my time in Greece. I was finishing my dissertation when I came across this old piece of vellum during an excavation.”

“Our family became very interested in his findings,” Kingsley added.

“And so did Voldemort,” Reyna grimaced. “He tasked my father – your grandfather – to bring it to him, and I volunteered to help. My job was to befriend the muggle so that he would show me where it was kept.”

“And I fell for it – hook, line, and sinker,” Gerry smiled at her. “Only took a few days before I was bringing her to the library and showing her the Fleece. She could’ve taken it from me right then and there.”

“Why didn’t you?” Fitz chirped.

Hanging her head in embarrassment, their mom said, “I wanted more time.”

Tenley watched her parents lock eyes.

“It wasn’t long before Voldemort grew impatient,” Reyna continued. “His new orders were to use force… But when my father went looking for him in the library… he caught us.”

Pained by the memory, she closed her eyes, then choked out, “I begged him. I said I’d do anything… He was furious. He started firing curses and I did my best to block them. Shelves toppled over, books flew, and then… an explosion. There were flames everywhere. We made it out, but I – I didn’t save him…”

Kingsley placed a hand on her shoulder.

As Tenley digested the story, she said, “You ran.”

“We had to. The authorities… Voldemort… the best chance we had was to disappear, and that’s when Dumbledore found us. Made sure we were protected. I swore to never touch it again – magic. I was disgusted with it – disgusted with myself…”

“We were successful for awhile,” Gerry offered.

Tenley mumbled, “Then I came along.”

“I kept an eye on you,” Kingsley assured. “Any time there was a trace of underage magic, I made sure to cover it up.”

“I remember,” she said darkly. “I still don’t understand why we came here. Why come out of hiding?”

“With the threat of Voldemort’s return, we started getting The Order back together,” he replied. “There was a disappearance last summer - a woman who worked in the Magical Games Department. We became suspicious of a plot to infiltrate the Triwizard Tournament. We needed someone on our side to fill the position…”

“You came to tell me about mother,” Reyna reminded him. “How we couldn’t attend her funeral… It made me want to do something… try to make up for it all...”

She turned to her children.

“But I needed to know you’d be safe. I was told – with Dumbledore and Moody - this was the best place for you.”

“It would’ve been,” Kingsley affirmed. “If we hadn’t gotten tricked by a Death Eater.”

Tenley thought back to her conversations with the man who turned out to be a fraud… who clearly wanted her to steal the Golden Fleece from her dad and give it to Voldemort.

“Where is it? The Fleece?”

“With Dumbledore,” her dad replied.

“You said you’d keep it from him!” Tenley yelped.

“Yes, well, that went out the window last night,” he said sheepishly.

“There’s no need to worry,” her uncle assured. “It’s in good hands.”

Unconvinced, she crossed her arms.

Nothing she’d heard had lessened her distrust of the headmaster.

“He won’t be able to read it,” her dad offered. “It requires a drop of blood from the royal family of Colchis. Otherwise, the map isn’t visible.”

“Our blood,” Tenley acknowledged.

He nodded.

“But you’ll help him,” she accused, looking to her mom and uncle.

Reyna replied, “It’s the least we can do. After all he’s done for us.”

“And will continue to do,” Kingsley added. “You’ll need to go back into hiding.”

Fitz piped up, “All of us?”

“We can’t take any more risks. Now that Voldemort is back, he’ll be looking for you… I’ll make the arrangements. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

“What about exams?"

Tenley rolled her eyes. Of course her brother would still be concerned about grades at a time like this.

“Are we really gonna let the whole school year have been for nothing?” he argued.

“Fitz has a point,” Dad said. “We should at least let the kids finish out the year.”

“No,” Tenley asserted. “Let’s go. Let’s get out of here.”

Every good memory tied to this place had been tainted. She wanted to be as far from it all as possible.

Kingsley thought for a moment.

“I’ll discuss it with Albus.” He took a step towards the door, then turned back to address the kids. “Have we cleared things up for you?

She gave a slight shake of her head.

“Tenley?”

“The coin,” she said quietly. “Why didn’t it work?”

An awkward tension filled the room.

Her uncle cleared his throat, then said, “It was a difficult spell. Your mum tried her best… but it was a long shot. I’m sorry.”

Numb, she only felt a dull ache as the knife twisted in her gut.

Terrance put his arm around her and she leaned her head into his shoulder.

Once Kingsley had gone, they spent the rest of the afternoon around Gerry’s bedside. It was mostly small talk, reminiscing about old times and tip-toeing around sensitive subjects. That is, until Tenley was stopped by her mom on their way out of the hospital wing.

She waved Terrance and Fitz on, then leaned close and whispered, “That boy meant a lot to you.”

Tenley gave a sullen nod.

“You should know,” her mom said, shifting uncomfortably. “You were the person he’d sorely miss.”

“What?”

“The second task,” she explained. “Your name came up… I didn’t want you down in that lake, so I chose his date from the Yule Ball instead.”

Her stomach dropped and her mind wandered away from her.

What a waste.

All the time spent doubting him.

Time they could’ve had together.

With a hitch in her throat, Tenley uttered, “No more secrets.”

Their copper eyes connected and her mom repeated, “No more secrets.”

Tenley awoke on the Astronomy tower, alone.

In the weeks that passed, that’s where she spent most of her nights.

Under the stars, she could still feel him. Still hear his voice. She clung on to every detail, fearful of losing any more of him, but the memories kept slipping through her fingers like sand.

She focused on her anger.

It was easier than the pain.

Whenever a wave of grief would slam into her, pulling her under it’s dark waters, she grasped onto a life raft of rage. The hatred she had for Voldemort, his Death Eaters, and the movement that empowered them.

She also blamed her housemates.

Ever since Dumbledore had approved the Wright family to stay at Hogwarts until the end of term, Tenley was forced to find creative ways to avoid them. She spent most of her time holed up in the clubhouse or sneaking back to her dorm during class time. It wasn’t clear how much they knew about the night of the third task, but one thing was certain, her so-called friends had welcomed Avery back with open arms. The girl who loved to read muggle books sat with them as if nothing had happened.

As for Odin, he was sent home early.

There was no legal action. The ministry said there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him of any crime and dismissed the case.

Still, it was good that he was gone.

There’s no telling how Tenley would react if she ever saw his face again.

She shut out all compassion and sympathy towards him, and firmly positioned him as a villain in her mind.

Inhuman.

It was easier to hate a monster than someone she once called friend.

Any reminder of the hours they’d spent together – understood and protected each other – ripped open a wound that she desperately tried to keep closed. She was successful for a few days until Graham Appleby stopped her between classes.

“Tenley!”

She turned to find the curly-headed Hufflepuff jogging over to her. He lowered his voice. “What’s happened? I’ve been trying to reach Odin, but he won’t respond.”

With pursed lips, she said, “Ask his friends.”

Graham shook his head. “Whatever he’s done… he means well.”

“I don’t care if he means well,” she snapped back.

There was sadness in his eyes as he said, “You know him. I know you do.”

“I thought I did,” she replied grimly.

Leveling with her, he tried again, “What happened?”

Tenley did feel bad for him.

Like her, he’d lost a best friend and a boyfriend in one night.

She paused for a moment, then reached into her canvas bag. Tenley pulled out the pieces of Odin’s dainty willow wand that she had snapped in two.

“Here,” she said. “You can give this back to him.”

He stared quizzically down at her hands, then slowly picked up the splintered wand.

“If you really love him,” she mumbled, “you won’t make excuses for him.”

Then, she left him, standing dumbfounded in the hall.

The betrayal weighed on her like a bag of bricks that she dutifully carried around with her. It was a punishment for her poor judgement. A reminder not to trust as freely.

In darker moments, she dwelled on everything she could’ve done differently.

However, she tried to keep Terrance’s words in the back of her mind.

He was a welcome comfort during the weekend of the third task, but he eventually had to return home. When they hugged goodbye, Tenley murmured, “I never should have come here.”

Pulling back, his hands landed on her shoulders as he said, “Don’t get it wrong, Ten. Coming here wasn’t the mistake… Just because it hurts now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it.”

She nodded at the ground.

He picked up her chin and said, “I’m on your side, kid. Whatever you need.”

Then, Terrance leaned close to her ear and whispered the secret to the deck of playing cards that he had gifted her in the fall.

Tenley smiled, “You’re crazy. How would I have ever figured that out?”

“A heated game of Go Fish?” he quipped.

With a slight punch of his shoulder and shake of her head, she said, “What’s the point? It’s not like I could make it across the Atlantic.”

“Only one way to find out,” he grinned.

Then, he began his walk towards town, and Tenley was left to navigate the rest of the school year.

The days passed by in a bitter haze.

On this particular morning, amidst the song of tittering birds, she stared at the rising sun and wondered what was in store for her and her family.

It was all coming to an end.

By tomorrow, The Order would take them to a safe location to begin their new life underground.

Until then, she had one more exam to survive, and Tenley was not looking forward to it. Unlike the others, Professor Vector refused to allow her to take it separately from the rest of the class.

That meant she’d actually have to be in the same room as Camilla.

As she looked out onto the grounds, one bird landed on the ledge in front of her. A robin with a white body and amber face, exactly like the one on the train.

A message from him.

Tenley smiled at the thought, then felt her eyes well again.

With a groan, she wiped the tears away, then headed downstairs to meet Fitz. He’d be waiting with breakfast in the clubhouse.

This time, as she approached the Woman in White, the portrait said, “I have a message for you.”

Tenley’s heart stopped.

“From the headmaster,” she continued. “He requests for you to join him in his office after your exam. The password is Cockroach Cluster.”

She grumbled, “What does he want?”

Ignoring her, the woman kicked up her feet as the door swung open to reveal the portrait hole.

Inside, Fitz sat cross-legged with old scrolls and photographs spread out around him. The MCI case files. Tenley grabbed a piece of toast from the table and joined him on the floor.

“I’ve told you,” she said between bites. “It was Medea.”

His lips shifted to the side. “How though? And why was the ring buried in the clearing?”

She shrugged, then reached into her canvas bag and withdrew the silver coin-like ring. It’d been weeks since she’d last touched it.

“Careful!” he yelped.

“She won’t hurt us,” Tenley assured, then placed the string around her neck and laid down on the rug.

Holding it up to eye-level, she whispered, “Medea…”

The engraved sphinx raised an eyebrow at her.

“How’d you end up in the clearing?”

The creature thought for a moment, then light spread across the circular face and enveloped Tenley until she felt grass growing underneath her. The clubhouse morphed into the thick forest, bathed in a burnt orange glow from the setting sun.

Tenley stood and found one solitary figure, gazing at the symbols carved into the prominent aspen tree. From behind, it appeared to be a teenager with chin-length brown hair, wearing a formal black suit.

A voice called in the distance, “Fin?”

At the sound of his name, Phineas Black Junior turned so Tenley could see his thick blocks of eyebrows and gaunt face.

“Al,” he acknowledged quietly.

Amid the rustling of leaves, the lanky frame of young Albus Dumbledore, also wearing formal attire, strode out of the bushes and joined his side.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

The boy nodded.

“It was a nice service today,” Dumbledore commented. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Phineas mumbled, “Because I’m the reason she’s dead?”

“More due to it being a muggle funeral.”

He shook his head at the ground, “My father’s politics aren’t my own.”

“She really made an impression on you.”

Under his breath, Phineas said, “She was the best of us.”

“A nice sentiment,” he replied. “But I must say, she did cheat.”

“Is that why you were in the forest that day? To confront her?”

Dumbledore nodded his auburn head.

“I warned her that you knew…” Phineas mumbled. “She was going to stop.”

“After she swindled me, I’m sure,” he smiled. “The screaming match in the hall was a nice touch.”

“Oh, that part was real,” he said bitterly. “Nellie was beside herself, but she cared more about the money. Told Dora that she’d throw the duel only if she could have the gold. It was the only way to pay her back…”

“It wasn’t right.”

“Right?” he scoffed. “Do you consider lying to an MCI agent to be ‘right’?”

“A little gratitude would be nice,” Dumbledore countered.

Shaking his head, Phineas declared, “I’m going to turn myself in.”

“And say what?!”

“The truth,” he whispered. “I gave her the ring.”

He dug in his pocket and held out the silver sphinx.

“Don’t be naive, Fin,” Dumbledore sighed. “They’ll think it was intentional. A pureblood killing a muggle-born. You’ll be arrested.”

“Maybe I deserve it.”

He grabbed the ring out of his friend’s hand and held it up to him. “This is what killed her. Whatever dark magic it holds, it should stay buried.”

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the ground and a neat pile of dirt rose into the air. He threw the ring into the small pit that he had dug, then started covering it back up.

“There. We can put it behind us.”

Phineas’ dark eyes bored into him, “You don’t want it to get out.”

“It’s what’s best for everyone.”

“What about the truth?”

“Truth is relative, Fin,” he sighed. “The truth will send you to Azkaban and expose the club. How’s that better?”

Phineas was silent.

“Listen,” Dumbledore said. “I’m sorry for what happened, I am, but let’s do the right thing here… I brought this for you.”

He reached into his pocket and held up the long braid of vitanima root. Dorothy’s necklace. The same necklace that strangled her.

Phineas stared at it for a long time, then somberly said, “She insisted that it was her good luck charm.”

“Quite the opposite, I’d say.”

He gingerly picked up the braid, placed it around his own neck, and said, “May the same luck find me...”

The scene began to evaporate, and when Tenley submerged from the vision, she found Fitz in the same position around the case files.

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“About an hour,” he casually said. Then, he met her eye, “What’d you find out?”

“It was Dumbledore,” she replied. “He buried the ring after her funeral.”

“Why?”

“Oh, some high and mighty bullshit,” she waved away, then added. “He wants to see me in his office today.”

Fitz’ brow furrowed, “What rule did you break this time?”

“Funny,” she said in a dull tone, then got to her feet. “I better get to my exam.”

“Best of luck,” he called as she made her way out the door.

Climbing out of the dungeon, Tenley decided against taking the main staircase to the seventh floor. It would limit the amount of people she could run into. However, when she cut through the courtyard, a quiet voice made her pause.

“Hi.”

It was Cho Chang.

She was sitting on a stone bench, alone.

Tenley couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her.

The girl was pretty and polished as usual, except the dark circles under her eyes told a different story. She politely gestured for her to sit.

“Sorry, I’ve got-” Tenley said awkwardly, then shook the thought away. Although she had no clue what to say, she joined the girl’s side.

“Silly, wasn’t it?” Cho finally said, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

Tenley nodded at the ground, then offered a slight smile, “He believed you had pure intentions.”

“Sounds like him,” she said with a snort. “Always seeing the best in people… He thought you’d come back.”

Biting her tongue, Tenley stayed quiet.

It was never a competition.

Not for her.

They sat together in silence until Cho reached over and pulled her into a hug. With a strained breath, she said, “I loved him.”

Tenley hugged the girl tighter.

She couldn’t blame her. Having also felt the warmth of his gaze, Tenley knew it was worth fighting for…

Eventually, she released her.

Sharing one last somber smile, Tenley stood from the bench and continued on.

They’d both lost him.

The unfairness of it all simmered under her skin as she made her way up to the Arithmancy classroom for her last exam. When she arrived, she saw Camilla already sitting at their usual table.

Tenley kept her head down and chose a spot on the other side of the room.

For the next couple hours, she solved problem sets with the proper equations. When she got to the essay portion, she was asked to write about the restrictions of using arithmatic calculations when gambling.

With a smile, she thought of Dorothy.

There was still a sack full of gold hidden in the clubhouse, all winnings from the clever Ravenclaw’s own betting pool.

Once Tenley turned in her parchment and walked out of the room, Camilla was leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

“Didn’t expect to use the Montessori formula so much,” she commented.

Tenley ignored her and kept on walking.

“Ten,” she said, quickening her pace to catch up with her. “Are you really going to avoid us forever? What happened out there?”

“They hunted him,” she said through thin lips. “Draco’s dad and his Death Eater friends.”

The blood drained from her rosy face.

Quietly, Camilla replied, “She didn’t know.”

“Which part?” Tenley flippantly said. “The torture? Or the attempted murder?”

The girl stopped her and said, “How can we make it right?”