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Chapter Text

Kellah was in hell and her parents had put her there. Regrettably, her parents confined her to Bible camp and compelled her to take part in a class that focused on the intricate details of cults. The deacon was working diligently to provide a comprehensive explanation. "They take you away from your family and control what you believe and who you see. They always have a doomsday and need money from members to keep it going."

Demonstrating her enthusiasm and eagerness to participate, Kellah raised her hand high in the air. The deacon's mood shifted to annoyance, reflecting his growing irritation.

"Yes," he answered curtly. "What is your question now?"

"Is this a cult?" she asked.

"That is not correct. We are a place of worship," the deacon said, coming to her desk.

As Kellah twirled her pencil, she felt the smooth wood against her fingertips. "You take people away from family if they don't believe the same things. You tell people to fast and give up things for lent and not to eat pork. The doomsday is when Jesus will walk the earth again, and you don't pay taxes, and you constantly get Sunday offerings from members."

His face transformed into a sullen visage, and a shadow of disappointment clouded his eyes. "Get out of my class and don't come back. Go make brooms."

Though she sighed, Kellah couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness as she left it all behind. Some of the religious purity ring-wearing half-virgins cast judgmental glances in her direction. She could hear the mocking tone in their voices as they called her "bird girl," and their laughter stung her ears.

Leaving her Bible on her desk, she walked outside the church and felt the heat radiating from the outdoor rec center where the children played games. However, half of it was currently locked by the church. The only room available was the group room, so they converted it into a makeshift broom-making workshop.

As she entered, she noticed Noah Johnson. Pulling him into a warm embrace, she pressed her lips to his cheek, leaving a tender kiss behind. Getting ready to make her broom bristles, she inspected her broom stock, making sure it was in perfect condition.

"Another snog on the cheek. When will I get a proper one?" He spoke while his fingers ran across his cornrows.

Kellah's voice wavered slightly as she spoke, her lips trembling. "When I'm good and ready now piss off," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Aye, steady. Half of my summer was spent waiting." With a gentle tug, he drew her near and planted a delicate kiss on her neck.

Rolling her eyes with contempt, she pushed him away from her. "You can keep waiting."

Why was she making him wait? Her actions may have suggested otherwise, but deep down, she was a shy person, and the prospect of kissing him on the lips for the first time made her cheeks flush. Contemplating the situation, she pondered the possibility of him using his tongue and questioned her readiness. She couldn't stand it and thought it was vile.

Just then she sensed something. It was Milkyway entering the room, holding a letter and a beautifully wrapped gift. Its face twisted into an annoyed expression as Kellah looked. Weary from the long day, Milkyway collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the plush pillows. The bird launched into a cacophony of shrill calls aimed at her before abruptly abandoning its stance to give chase to a mouse. It quietly ate its meal in the cozy corner before curling up for a nap.

"You know they call you the bird girl because you have that pet owl? And why does it keep giving you gifts?" Trembling with fear, he uttered the words.

"I keep feeding it. Crows are the same. They follow you and leave gifts if you do it enough. They also follow you if they're angry," she said.

Noah stood on the complete opposite side of the room from Milkyway, creating a physical barrier between them. "That’s odd. Just keep it from me."

That made her feelings towards him turn sour. He was fortunate to possess the charm and good looks that made him stand out among the others in the camp.

One of letters in question was from Draco again, the familiar handwriting scrawled across the page. She had diligently sent out countless letters, eagerly awaiting replies from everyone. All replied except for Harry. Disappointingly, even Hagrid and Draco bothered to acknowledge her.

Hagrid's writing skills surpassed his speaking abilities, an unexpected talent for someone expelled from school. It saddened Kellah that Hagrid's education was cut short, and she wished things had been different for him. There was a sense of injustice to it.

After sending a quick reply, Kellah turned her attention to the letter weighing on her mind.

It was a potion kit with some of the rarest ingredients occamy eggshell, dragon horn, dragon claw, murtlap tentacle, acromantula venom, erumpent horn, erupment tail, dragon's blood, fairy wings, venomous tentacula, unicorn horn, and unicorn tail. Among the items, there was even a vial containing a sample of its blood. The ethereal glow of the unicorn blood reminded her of why she couldn't be with him. No matter how strong his feelings for her were, his infatuation with the Dark Arts was stronger.

"Babes, you don't fancy the gift the bird got you this time round?" Noah asked.

Kellah let out a sigh. "As per usual, it's good except for one thing."

She gently placed it on top of the pile, marveling at the collection of gifts she had received from Draco. It dawned on her that she would have to depart with more possessions than she had arrived with. One nice thing was having luggage that seemed to defy physics with its seemingly infinite interior space. She had to check to see which gift that was she would find it before summer holiday was over.

She carefully tucked Malfoy’s letter amidst the others inside the music box, where a broken ballerina seemed to yearn for her lost melody. She collected all of them. Each memento was a testament to his loveliest moments, forever preserved in her collection.

As she rummaged through the gifts Draco had given her, Kellah’s hand landed on A Beginner's Guide to Wand Movements charts. It would make a suitable gift for Harry. That boy ran into danger. He desperately needed this far more than she did.

Later that night, she lay in bed, the soft glow of her bedside lamp illuminating the words on the letter from Draco. She wasn't even sure what he liked about her. There was an intensity about him, a singular focus that bordered on obsession. However, as she sprayed herself with the Angel perfume he gifted her last years. She couldn't help but appreciate his attention to detail in choosing a fragrance she loved. Kellah refrained from wearing the scent at Hogwarts, fearing it would attract unwanted attention. She denied him the satisfaction, but in the privacy of her home or at camp, she could wear it without restraint. Was it because she liked Draco that she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement whenever he walked into the room? Kellah slept on it, the gentle rhythm of her breath lulling her into a deep slumber, allowing her subconscious to work through the problem.

Upon waking, Milkyway greeted her. The owl had made herself comfortable on her chest, and next to her was another letter and a small, mysterious gift. A built-in smart garden was a sophisticated system comprising nine plant pods and magical lights that could accurately sense when the plants needed sunlight or artificial lighting. This innovative system combined a self-watering tank, built-in timer, smart soil, and water level indicator to create a hassle-free gardening experience. It was one of the best gifts he had given her, and she cherished it dearly. She even considered bringing it to Hogwarts, imagining the awe and curiosity it would spark among her fellow students. She couldn't deny her growing affection for Draco Malfoy, much to her dismay.

Rising early, she was met by the quiet stillness of the early morning. The only thing visible was the faint glow of distant stars. Quietly, she tiptoed out of the girls' bunks, trying to suppress the creaking floorboards, and headed towards the primary office. Using her newfound lock-picking abilities, courtesy of the Weasley Twins, she quickly gained access and dialed Hermione's number on the landline.

Hermione weary answered the call. "Hello, who is it?" she said groggily.

"Hermione, it's me," Kellah whispered, hoping Hermione would recognize her voice. "I'm stuck at Bible camp."

"It's midnight, Kellah. I went to bed ages ago."

"Hermione, it's summer holiday. I know you stayed up to read books with a torch."

Startled, Kellah turned her head at the sound of a book being closed in her ear. "Right, what's the trouble?"

"I think I fancy-"Kellah felt a cold chill.

”—You are done here, lass." A deacon said in a condescending tone at the door.

"Who was that?" Hermione yelled on the line.

Kellah glared at the deacon as she spoke. "I'm off Hermione. I reckon I'm kicked out of Bible camp."

"Oh well, then I can—" The deacon's fingers swiftly clicked the button, silencing the phone. Kellah marched to her room, the weight of the impending adventure heavy in her steps, and began packing. Her parents would have to make the long journey to retrieve her. They would be angry and embarrassed. Just like her hatred for bible camp, she didn't want to face them either. Her resentment towards her parents deepened even further.

As Kellah prepared to leave, she marveled at the luggage bag's ability to hold all her belongings despite its deceptively compact appearance. Another thing she had to bring to school with her. At this point, she had reached a state of complete shamelessness. She liked Malfoy. Dodging a breakup with Noah was a slight consolation for being expelled from camp, but at least she took three of her favorite brooms. It was child labor, and she was going to get her payment. Perhaps she would craft a wondrous broomstick, its bristles would vibrate with ancient spells.

Kellah's mum was rambling incessantly, but she tuned it out. Her mum had lost a lot of weight, and her clothes now hung loosely on her frame. It was like witnessing a complete metamorphosis into an entirely different person.

Her father's focus on her had increased significantly. She couldn't decipher if it was a genuine connection or merely a shallow, melancholic relationship. The thought didn't concern her because she only had to tolerate seeing them every summer for six more years.

When she got home, she noticed the empty space where her Hogwarts clothes from last year used to be, leaving a sense of nostalgia. Her uniform, the clothes she had brought to camp, and a collection of Uganda traditional dresses were the sole remnants. If she hadn't packed the uniform for comfort, she was certain it would have been one of the first items taken. The last thing she wanted was to get into a confrontation with her parents. The real reason they wanted her out of the house was to eradicate every trace of magic.

The following day, her mum had left a Bible, and a beautifully embroidered Ugandan dress on the table, creating a striking display. Kellah scrambled to find something to wear, settling for the first thing she could grab.

Her low-rise jeans hugged her hips perfectly, providing a cozy and relaxed fit. Squatting, she rounded out the curves of her butt in the jeans. What was the point of wearing form-fitting jeans if they gave you a flat arse?

Descending the steps, she could feel her mum's disapproving gaze. When her mum looked at her, her eyes immediately landed on the daring crop top Kellah had on.

"What are you wearing? Did you learn nothing at Bible camp?"

Excitement coursed through Kellah as an idea took hold. "Yes, Bible camp helped. I made a lot of brooms. I feel closer." Kellah paused. Her mum smiled, "to the devil," Kellah's words laced with a playful wickedness.

Her mum frowned, the lines on her forehead deepening, and rose from her chair. "There will be no devil worship in my house."

"Shall I cast a spell on you?" Kellah asked, her eyes sparkling with magic.

"I have the blood of Jesus protecting me."

"Want to test that theory?" Kellah asked with a sly smile on her lips.

Her mum's unwavering demeanor revealed her inner strength, not even a flicker of reaction. Kellah got up close to her, and she could feel the cool metal of her rollerblades in her hands as she grabbed them from the front door. "I'm off to Hermione's."

"Micah 5:10, I will destroy your witches, and you will no longer cast spells," said her mum.

Kellah's mum swiftly shoved her back inside, the door slamming closed with a loud bang. Kellah's eyes darted around nervously, a sure sign that she was frightened. Before she knew it, firm hands yanked Kellah up the stairs, and she found herself imprisoned in her room. There was a lock that had not been there the night before.Had they added it this morning? Kellah went to Milkyway and carefully unlatched the cage, setting the bird free.

Frantically, she scribbled identical letters to Ron, Harry, and Hermione. After much deliberation, she wrote a letter addressed to Draco but ultimately tore it up, deciding it was best left unsent. She seldom gave him the courtesy of a response. The letter said:

When Kellah set Milkyway free, the owl let out a contented coo, clearly pleased with the release. She watched as it flew toward Hermione's house.

As soon as Kellah's body met the comfort of her bed, she was startled by the loud ringing of the phone in her room. She had her own line, which was a nice thing she never got to enjoy. "Kellah, is that you? Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

The phone cord unraveled and retracted as Kellah absentmindedly twirled it around her finger. "Yeah, I have to be quick about it before they realize I'm on the line. When are you going to Diagon Alley?"

"In a few days, my parents can take you. Will you make it to mine, or shall we give you a lift?" Worry seeped into Hermione's voice.

With a deep sigh, Kellah released the tension building within her. "Don't pick me up. Meet you at yours. I’m gonna pop off. Going to give someone else a ring."

"To whom."

"No time." As the call ended, Hermione's voice faded away, leaving a void in the conversation.

Kellah unfolded the paper with Dean's number, the ink slightly smudged from being touched so many times. She ran her fingers over the parchment, smoothing it out, and dialed his number.

"Hello, Thomas, family residents. This is Mr. Thomas. May I ask who's calling?"

Kellah's voice trembled, revealing her inner turmoil. "This is Kellah Onai-Dellarose calling for Dean Thomas. May I speak to him, sir?"

"Oh, I have heard quite a lot about you—"There was a tiny scuffle, and she strained her ears to catch the sound. "That's enough, Alfred…what's happening, Kellah," said Dean.

"Right. What have you been going on about?" Kellah asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She was so absorbed in this that time constraints seemed to disappear.

"Nothing Alfred fancies a tall tale. So why did you give me a ring? Took you a good long while. It's been a month since school ended. You're cutting it fine." His words came out with an undertone of irritation.

"Oh, you noticed that, did you? Sorry, I was stuck at Bible camp. Just wanted to ring you."

She felt a familiar cold chill. With a click, the door unlocked, and her mum's intense stare met hers. "You won't be hearing from me in a while. I'm on punishment. Cheers," she said before ending the call and disconnecting the phone from the wall, handing it to her mother.

Her mum snatched away the phone, leaving her feeling a sense of loss. Her mum said," Leviticus 20:6 I will set my face against anyone who turns to mediums and spiritists to prostitute themselves by following them, and I will cut them off from their people."

“Nothing like Old Testament hospitality.”Kellah smiled her mother didnot.

And for two days, they completely isolated her from the outside world. The only things she had to occupy her thoughts were the ceiling and her Bible. Occasionally she worked on her broom but hard labor wasn't fun.

On the first day, Kellah meticulously packed everything she could fit in her trunk, including the sack with the undetectable extension charm. Determined, she would escape. In her mind, she was already plotting her prison break, refusing to be trapped. Patience was all she needed to endure the situation.

The door only creaked open when they slid a tray of food inside. The first time, she violently yanked the door open, desperate to flee, only to be hurled back into the room by her mum. After her little stunt, all she had for food was porridge, which might as well have been slop the way her mother cooked.

She wished she had a telly, yearning for the familiar voices and stories that would distract her from the situation. Since she left the first year, ten months ago, the glow of the television had been absent from her evenings. The desire for it burned within her.

The monotonous act of staring at the ceiling wore on her. With her school books in hand, she would find a cozy spot and immerse herself in the words on the pages. By the time she returned to Hogwarts, she might have picked up a couple of spells to add to her knowledge.

On the second day, she opened a window, the fresh scent of morning dew wafting in, and hurled her trunk and bird cage out before leaping into the welcoming bushes below. As she surveyed herself, she couldn't help but appreciate that she emerged unscathed, a testament to the exceptional durability of wizards. She wheeled her trunk, feeling the vibrations in her hands. The weight of her rollerblades draped over Kellah’s shoulders, a constant reminder of the fun that awaited her.

She deliberately wore her sandals as she walked through the grass, relishing the sensation of the blades brushing against her skin, a silent act of rebellion against her mum's rules. Her toes were moist with the fresh morning dew. Kellah stopped and collected a bit for her future potions. She continued her walk to Hermione's house, the sound of chirping birds accompanying her every step. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either.

As the fifteen minutes passed, she noticed the weariness in the eyes of the few people who paid her any attention. When she returned from Hogwarts after a year, her appearance and demeanor were unrecognizable compared to before. Her height had increased by four inches, making her feel more confident. The crop top she wore used to be a regular top, but now it revealed a sliver of her midriff.

She was the girl who parents warned their sons and daughters to stay away from. She was a bad influence, enabling their kids without hesitation. It was ironic because if anyone in their friend group fit that description, it was Harry Potter.

She faced an inferi and went through seven trials to get to the philosopher’s stone, and one of her best friends defeated Voldemort. Her secret admirer turned out to be none other than the notorious bad boy, Draco Malfoy. How could she not have changed? The confidence radiated from her, a stark contrast to the scared girl she used to be before magic entered her life. The world had seen her as quiet and docile, but underneath, a simmering anger brewed.

After spending time in deep thought, she arrived at Hermione's house, the touch of the doorknob bringing a sense of connection and resolve. She stood on the porch, her finger hovering over the doorbell, wishing she had thought to call before showing up unannounced. Kellah was twelve, not an adult. Everything would turn out fine in the end.

Mrs. Granger opened the door, her dressing gown wrapped snugly around her. "Oh, hi, Kellah, we were just making a spot of breakfast. Hermione isn't ready to come out." The sight of Kellah's mournful face and the luggage caused Mrs. Granger to come to a stop.

"My mum was just being herself, so I wanted to come round." Kellah's voice cracked, desperate to glimpse her friend.

A tinge of sorrow touched Mrs. Granger's smile. "Actually, why don't you have breakfast with us?"

"I would be delighted."

Kellah took a deep breath before touching the doorknob and stepping through the door into a world of possibilities. The umbrella rack became crowded as her belongings found a place next to Hermione's rollerblades. Inhaling the fragrant smell of the food in the kitchen, she couldn't help but feel her hunger grow.

The aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs lingered in the air, accompanied by the comforting sight of beans, toast, mushrooms, tomatoes, potatoes, and black pudding. There was even bone marrow and pork chops and Hermione's parents were cooking together. Mr. Granger expertly handled all the meat while Mrs. Granger took care of everything else. Outside the garden, he tended to the roasting meat on the barbecue.

Some men will use any excuse to barbecue, but it was sweet that he was helping his wife cook. Just then, a tantalizing smell of smoky meat wafted through the backyard. "Can I help with anything?" said Kellah.

"You can fetch Hermione, and she'll help you set up the table," said Mr. Granger through a wall of smoke.

Kellah burst into Hermione's room, disregarding the need for a knock. Even in her sleep, Hermione clung tightly to a book, its pages brushing against her face. Startled by Kellah's sudden entrance, she quickly sat up in her bed. Hermione's face bore a visible indentation from where the book had pressed against it.

Leaning casually against the wall, Kellah spoke up. "So you stayed up reading with a torch?"

Just as Hermione was about to fling the book, she froze mid-motion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at Bible camp?"

"I got kicked out while we were on the phone. Then gave you a bell from mum and dads.”

Adjusting her posture, Hermione sat up and crossed her arms in front of her. "Oh, come on, let's hear it then?"

It occurred to Kellah that she should tell her about Malfoy. "It was about my boyfriend at camp."

"Did you get his phone number?"Hermione said leaping from her bed.

Kellah panicked a little, but she had Malfoy. "No, I didn't."

"You're never going to see that boy again," Hermione said as she stood in her personal bathroom brushing her teeth.

"You don't know that I might go back next year," Kellah carefully passed Hermione a damp washcloth, ready to be used.

"And what if he's not round?" Hermione said, a small glob of toothpaste clinging to her lip as she wiped it off her mouth.

"Then I could ask one of the church staff who his parents are."

"I seriously doubt that. Also, I thought we wouldn't call each other until Ron got a landline." Hermione brushed past Kellah and put on a dressing gown over her pajamas.

"It was an emergency. Oh, your dad said for you to help me set the table."

Hermione gathered her thick, unruly hair and hastily fashioned it into a tousled bun. She studied her reflection in the mirror momentarily before sighing in resignation. Frustrated, Hermione forcefully pushed her door open, the sound reverberating through the quiet house, and snatched a book before making her way down the stairs.

They set the table, and in the center, Mr. Granger placed a tray of succulent meats. The dish consisted of a medley of sausage, bacon, bone marrow, and pork chops.

Hermione sat down with Kellah, gently placing her book on the table next to her plate. "No books at the table," said Mr. Granger.

Frowning, Hermione reluctantly set the book on a desk in the cozy corridor.

As Kellah took her first bite, it transported her back to the days at Hogwarts, where the food was always this delicious. She enjoyed Mrs. Granger's rabbit food, too. However, it didn't quite match up to Mr. Granger's. The vegetable dishes lacked salt, but Kellah stayed silent.

Kellah ate so much that she could practically hear her stomach groaning in protest. "You guys cook the best food together."

As the kids rose from the table, they clasped hands and giggled while sprinting through the corridor. They reached the first step, only to find Mr. Granger already occupying the space.

"Don't forget to brush and floss after breakfast," said Mr. Granger.

Mrs. Granger leaned against the banister. "Yes, or we'll be seeing you soon," said Mrs. Granger.

As they climbed the stairs, Hermione disappeared into the shower, the sound of running water mingling with her conversation with Kellah. "I received the letter for my books to Hogwarts and yours as well. We should go to Diagon Alley on Wednesday. I'm thinking of letting Ron know since Harry hasn't answered my post."

"He has gotten none of my post, either. I keep sending it. I'm afraid of what the Dursleys are doing to him." Kellah said as steam escaped through the cracked door. "Is it like how my parents mistreat me?"

"It might be worse," Hermione's words hung in the air, and the once rushing water suddenly stopped.

"Did Harry get whippings?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said.

A heavy cloud of sadness hung over Kellah. "Then he's lucky it never went there."

Hermione's mouth opened, but no sound came out as she grappled with her thoughts. "Do they still whip you?" She said almost in a whisper, her voice barely a murmur.

"Not since I started Hogwarts last year. They are too scared I will turn them into a toad or something. I'm just dreading Sunday." She thought about the suffocating feeling of being locked away for two days but didn't want to burden Hermione with her concerns.

"Oh, Church," said Hermione, oblivious to Kellah's true feelings.

"Since summer holiday, I had church every day at bible camp, and Sunday was worse because it was longer, and I had to dress up. I had to pray when I woke up and went to bed in group prayer before each meal. I can't do it anymore, and I know most of those people would want nothing to do with me because I'm a witch."

"You only have to deal with it on holiday. Don't go back home for Christmas or Easter break, alright?"

"I didn't plan on it."

Hermione emerged from the lavatory, her hair still damp from the shower. To get ready, she had dressed in the bathroom.

"Alright, so I have the entire day planned," Hermione said, her hands coming together with a soft, satisfying click.

As Kellah's excitement bubbled over, she couldn't help but notice the stack of books that Hermione had pointed out. "We can read these," Hermione said, holding a book.

"We can go rollerblading with some of the neighborhood boys."

"I don't have rollerblades."

As Hermione crossed her fingers behind her back, Kellah observed the mischievous glint in her eyes. "Your pair are downstairs. I put mine next to them."

"Right," Hermione said, tugging at the sleeves of her retro varsity jacket. It was for a debate team. Which ten-year-old is skilled enough to be part of a debate team? Next, she slipped on a pair of loafers.

"Hermione, I can't have you go out to see boys like that." Kellah gestured vaguely towards Hermione.

As Hermione gazed downwards, her attention fixated on her choice of clothing. She tugged on her dress shirt. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Kellah tossed a pair of shorts and a Quidditch pullover in her direction. "Everything."

Ignoring Kellah's pleas to fix her hair, Hermione hurriedly changed her outfit, showing no concern for her appearance.

They emerged into the open air, where Kellah was already in her element, impressing everyone with her skating talents. She effortlessly pulled off tricks, confidently balanced on one foot, and even glided backward.

Hermione's stability masked her lackluster performance, as she secretly indulged in reading a tiny book while rollerblading. They rolled up and were greeted by the sight of a couple of kids darting behind bushes and trees, caught up in a lively game of hide and seek. The guy that was “it” saw Kellah motion towards a concealed individual. His smile, with metal glinting, was directed right at her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Rolling down the street, they could feel the rumble of the rough pavement resonating in their bones.

"You two want to play with us," the guy yelled.

Kellah had gotten a good look at him. She could hear the confidence in his voice, and it made her heart flutter. The unique shape of his monolid eyes and the playful curl of his thin lips created a captivating expression reminiscent of a joker's grin.

With a sudden stop in her skating, Kellah sharply pivoted, her senses heightened. "Sure."

The guy's eyes skipped over Kellah, focusing solely on Hermione. "What about you,poppet?"

Closing her book, Hermione sighed. "I guess," she muttered.

Kellah couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as she watched everyone carry on without acknowledging her presence. She grabbed Hermione's wrist, her fingers tightening around it.

"How about we just go back to yours and write to Ron about going to the place," she said cryptically in front of the Muggle.

"Don't leave." The guy's gaze lingered on Hermione as he spoke. His friends had formed a tight circle around him, their eager faces reflecting their anticipation.

With a nod from Hermione, they glided away, the cool breeze whistling past their ears. Hand in hand, Kellah led the way as they rollerbladed off, the vibrant colors of the surroundings blurring into a haze.

Seeking respite from the heat, they located a serene spot in the shade, perfect for kicking off their shoes and munching on a snack. Kellah opened a pack of noodles, and the sound of the seasoning hitting the noodles was a delightful sprinkle. She then handed a pack of ramen to Hermione, its crinkly packaging making a satisfying sound.

"I heard eating it is bad for your heart and can make you ill."

"Hermione, eat the damn noodles."

Ignoring her previous words, Hermione devoured the noodles. Kellah’s next-door neighbor Aaron came into view, and his arm lifted in a wave, signaling them to come closer. With speed, they donned their rollerblades and stowed the extra noodles in their pockets, securing them tightly. Right before him, Kellah skidded to a halt on her rollerblades.

"Alright, Aaron." She laid eyes on him again. She couldn't help but marvel at his sudden growth spurt. His clothes were noticeably different, hanging loosely on his frame. The gold chain around his neck glimmered in the sunlight as he playfully tugged on it.

"Hello, mate, who's your friend?" He asked, his eyes scanning Hermione from head to toe.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Kellah's face, causing her lips to tighten. "That's Hermione. She lives in the neighborhood."

Aaron lifted his cap, revealing his durag underneath. "I haven't seen her come round."

"She's more of an inside person."

"I go outside a bit," Hermione said.

Kellah squinted her eyes. "I force you to. "

"Right, uh, Hermione, are you single?" Aaron asked.

Her cheeks turned a rosy shade as embarrassment washed over her." Yes."

"Are you looking for a boyfriend?" he said.

"My boyfriend is my love of books. It won't let me down. Boys will." She said, her eyes shining with affection as she hugged the book close.

As Aaron processed the news, his face sank in disappointment.

Kellah laughed it was full of warmth and mirth, brightening up the atmosphere. Well, it brightened it for her and Hermione, not Aaron.

"Hermione read a book for a second. I'm going to have a chat with Aaron," Kellah said.

Hermione quickly retrieved a book from her small bag and immersed herself in its pages. And it was A History of Magic, its pages yellowed with age and filled with handwritten notes. Taking a moment to rest, Hermione sat on the curb.

"Where you been hiding this light-skinned girl?"

Kellah playfully pushed Aaron, causing him to stumble backward. "I met her at my new school. She lives close by, so we are stuck together."

"Cool, cool. Can you hook me up?"

In a gesture of self-protection, Kellah crossed her arms in front of her. "She said no, and why do you even fancy her?"

"Her hair is a bit of a mess but glorious face."

"Any other reasons?" she asked.

His hushed, barely audible whisper hung in the air, creating an atmosphere of secrecy. "I don't need one."

Kellah extends her arms, palms facing upwards. "Boy, bye."

Kellah smoothly glided away on her skates and skillfully snatched Hermione before they both sped off. "Let me finish the page before we go," said Hermione.

Jealousy gnawed at Kellah, twisting her stomach into knots. Each boy she encountered seemed to avoid conversation with her unless it centered on Hermione. She received only a fleeting nod of recognition from them. Last year, she longed for companionship, but none of them wanted to play with her. As soon as Hermione appeared, everyone clamored to be her friend.

"Those boys were awful. They kept ignoring you. I won't talk to them anymore," said Hermione.

"You can talk to them. It's alright." Her eyes watered, forcing Kellah to blink and regain her composure.

"I shan't," Hermione said. "It was a bit odd since they ignored me at my old school. " With a warm hug from Kellah, they set off on their rollerblades, exploring more of the street.

Upon reaching Hermoine's house, they excitedly discarded their rollerblades and dashed up the stairs, feeling the wood grain against her bare soles. Hermione opened her window, and Errol's tired, droopy eyes and ruffled feathers showed he had traveled a long way to bring a letter from Ron.

As if time was of the essence, Hermione quickly moved to retrieve the letter. Hermione's fingers tore into the envelope, her eyes darting across the letter as she absorbed its contents. She held the letter close to her heart, her fingers tracing the creases in the paper, and began writing quickly, her thoughts flowing onto the page. Kellah peeked, and it was signed love from Hermione

"This is why you ran up so fast, and do you always sign Ron’s letters love from Hermione?" Kellah asked.

"I do it to yours and Harry as well, so it's nothing." Hermione handed the letter to the owl. Errol took flight, his wings brushing against the flower curtains as he fluttered up and out the window. Kellah closed the window behind him, blocking out the chilly breeze seeping in.

"It's not nothing if you're running up the stairs for his owl."

"Whatever. I told him we'll be there tomorrow. Now, why don't you take a full day to pick your outfit?"

Kellah plopped down on Hermione's bed, sinking into the softness of the mattress. "I would if I had any clothes. My mum is probably throwing away more of them as we speak."

"She threw away your clothes. Why," Hermione said, stretching out next to her and propping her head up with her hand.

"Because she didn't fancy them."

They held hands on the bed. "I can give you some of my old clothes that don't fit."

They spent hours indulging in a playful fashion show, trying on clothes and striking poses in front of the mirror. Many shirts were too small, but crop tops were in, so Kellah took them. The bottoms hugged her butt a bit too snugly, but she figured it would be alright as long as she didn't engage in any physical activity.

Kellah adorned herself in one of Hermione's shirts, feeling a sense of closeness to her friend. She declared it her new favorite. Kellah wrapped herself in the comfort of a flannel shirt. Among Hermione's collection, it was likely one of the standout items in her wardrobe.

"You sure you want that one? It looks like a crop top." The vest, concealed beneath the flannel, was the object Hermione pointed at.

While flashing her crop top, she made the statement. "That's fine. It's a trend now."

"Yeah, for teenagers, you're twelve."

"I'll be thirteen in February," Kellah, aiming for a bit of fun, tossed a piece of clothing into Hermione's vicinity.

The blow caught Hermione off guard, striking her squarely in the face despite her evasion attempt. "Just take it."

Excitement consumed Kellah as the new day dawned. Overwhelmed by the intensity, she hastily dressed. Kellah scrutinized herself in the mirror before reverting to the outfit she had selected the previous day. She made Hermione dress up in a charming orange ensemble to impress Ron. To add some flair, she carefully placed orange snap clips in Hermione's hair. Although the snap clips were a pleasant feature, the rest was quite disappointing.

"Hermione, you sure I can't do your hair?" Kellah said as she desperately tried to tame Hermione's frizzy hair.

"It's alright," said Hermione.

"No, it's not," Kellah said, trying one more time before giving up.

Hermione's eyes rolled in annoyance as she made her way downstairs in a hurry. They sat on the couch in the living room, the soft hum of the air conditioner provided a soothing background noise. The telly wasn't on. Hermione's parents were the type who had a specific time set aside for watching TV.

Kellah's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of the familiar Hogwarts letters resting on the coffee table, making everything else fade into the background. Finally, she got her hands on the school list and eagerly unfolded it. There was the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two, and then seven books by a guy named Gilderoy Lockhart.

"I am not buying seven books by the same guy for school. It is obviously a scam." Kellah waved her hand in a firm, negating gesture.

"No, he's brilliant. He's famous and went on all sorts of adventures."

"Yeah, I'm gonna save money and borrow your books." She said, slapping the letter with frustration.

Hermione meticulously folded her letter, the corners meeting perfectly. "No, you won't."

"Watch me, I won't buy it."

Chapter Text

Their heated argument continued unabated throughout the entire car ride, only settled when they arrived at The Leaky Cauldron.

They waved at Tom, the barkeep, his white apron stained with splashes of ale. He gave them a nod of recognition.

Kellah and the Granger family quickly reached the concealed back door entrance to Diagon Alley. With a tap of the sequence, the entrance to Diagon Alley opened, revealing a bustling street of magical shops. A witch who studied them intently before presenting them with cauldrons for their shopping needs guarded the entrance.

Startled, Kellah turned around, taken aback by Mr. Granger standing so closely behind her. “How much money did your parents leave you?”

"They're mean with their coin," she said honestly, her statement tinged with disappointment. “It’s alright, though I know how to save a few quid.” If she was being perfectly honest she stole it.

Upon arriving at Gringotts bank, Mr. Granger's face soured into a frown. The white flight of steps to Gringotts stretched out before them, their smooth surface gleaming in the sunlight. Spotting Harry, they hurriedly rushed down to meet him. Hermione's untamed brown hair billowed in the breeze as she raced forward. They formed a circle and embraced each other in a joyful group hug. Harry stood there not complying but not refusing either. Standing next to Harry was Hagrid. His sheer size seemed to diminish their stature.

“What happened to you this time, Harry? And your glasses are broken yet again.” Hermione tried to touch his face but must have thought better of it.“Why must they always be broken? Hello, Hagrid — It is simply wonderful to see you two again,” Hermione held Harry’s hand and he allowed it this time. “ — Coming to Gringotts, Harry?”

“After I find the Weasleys,” said Harry said canning his neck.

“No need ter fret. You don't have long ter wait,” Hagrid said with a grin.

Kellah, Harry, and Hermione looked around. Sprinting up the crowded street were all the male Weasley.

“Oh, Harry,” Mr. Weasley panted. “Well, thank goodness. We hoped you’d only gone one grate too far...” He mopped his glistening bald patch. “Molly’s beside herself with worry — she’s coming round now —”

“Where did you end up?” Ron asked leaning on Harry’s shoulder.

“Knockturn Alley,” said Hagrid grimly.

“Legend!” said Fred and George simultaneously, their words blending into one voice.

"We're not allowed," Ron said wistfully, longing for the same opportunity.

“I should ruddy well, think not,” growled Hagrid.

Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.“Oh, Harry dear — you could have been anywhere —we thought the worse—”

Wheezing and struggling for air, she fished out a large clothes brush from her bag and, with meticulous strokes, swept away the soot that Hagrid had missed as she mothered Harry. Mr. Weasley performed a swift wand movement, tapped Harry's glasses, and then handed them back, looking as if they were just purchased.

“Well, gotta be off,” Mrs. Weasley was shaking Hagrid's hand vigorously while he spoke.“See yer at Hogwarts!”And he confidently walked away, towering over everyone else in the bustling street.

As they climbed the Gringotts steps, Harry's voice resonated with a noticeably deeper tone than last year.

“Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes.”

“Who?” Kellah asked.

“Draco and his father. Mr. Malfoy was miffed about Draco sending letters and gifts to a girl over the summer.”

Kellah took comfort in her dark skin, knowing it hid her flushed cheeks.“Really, someone fancies Malfoy,” she spoke, her voice tinged with a secret smile.

“Did he buy anything? Anything at all,” Mr Weasley asked, and Kellah was thankful for it.

“No, he was selling, but Draco did say he wanted to get the girl another gift later that seemed to bother his father.”

“Malfoy fancies someone more than himself, can you imagine?” said Ron, his voice rumbled with a deeper resonance than Harry’s.

Kellah's cheeks flushed a subtle tint that blended seamlessly with her complexion.

“Are you alright, child? You look a bit green,” Molly asked.Molly Weasley's hand rested on Kellah's forehead, sensing the heat radiating from her skin. She had never felt so cared for by an adult until now.

Kellah shook her head, her hoop earrings jingling softly. “We skipped breakfast, that’s all.”

Molly's fingers unwrapped the foil from the corned beef sandwich, and she passed it over to Kellah. Against her will, she consumed it. Mrs. Weasley's cooking was so good that it brought warmth and comfort to everyone who tasted it. And this was only a sandwich, but it tasted like a burst of flavors dancing on her tongue. As hunger gnawed at her, she could only dream about the delicious taste of a complete meal. She understood why Ron ate so much now.

In a hurry, Kellah devoured the sandwich in a few swift bites. As she was about to lick her fingers, Kellah glanced at boys passing by and hastily wiped her hands on her Hogwarts cloak instead. Mrs. Weasley's wand swished through the air, effortlessly straightening the foil before she stowed it away in her handbag.

As they walked inside the bank, the Granger family exchanged Muggle money with a golbin stationed near the door. The Exchange desk was rather small compared to the other goblins. The goblin begrudgingly helped them.

Kellah’s hands fumbled with the unfamiliar bills she stole from her parents, handing them to Hermione’s parents. The Hogwarts funds were available, but the cost of Gilderoy Lockhart's books exceeded Kellah’s budget.

“How delightful. You’re exchanging Muggle money for wizard currency. Do tell what the exchange value difference is?” said Arthur Weasley to Mr. Granger.

Ron went straight to Hermione, his face lighting up with a smile as he approached her. “See you in a bit, ya?”

As they walked outside of the bank, Kellah nudged Hermione, a small sign of their shared secret. “See you in a bit,” she said mockingly.

“He was talking to both of us,” said Hermione.

Kellah shook her head no. “He looked directly at you.”

“Do you fancy this Ron boy?” asked Mrs. Granger.

Nervously, Hermione let out a small, awkward laugh. “No, of course not. We’re all good mates.”

“Good, then I don’t need to have a chat with him. Wizard or not, we would have words,” Mr. Granger said sternly. It was the meanest he had ever looked. He softened his expression because the Weasley family and Harry were now walking out of Gringotts and onto the steps.

“We shall meet you lot at Flourish and Blotts in an hour,” said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. “And not one step, not even a toe out of line. There will be no Knockturn Alley visits!” she shouted at the twins’ retreating backs.

Kellah's heart swelled with joy as she reveled in the company of her closest friends. They eagerly headed to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, looking forward to the cool sensation of the ice cream against their tongues. As Harry walked, the rhythmic jingling of the money in his pocket provided a soothing background noise.

There was a gigantic cone on the outside of the shop. It swirled giving the illusion that the ice cream moved. The inside was a world of pastels the attendant was in a pink ensemble.

“What do you guys fancy?” Harry said.

“That’s alright, mate,” said Ron, rubbing his stomach.

“You mustn't, Harry,” said Hermione.

“I’ll take the new strawberry and peanut butter ice cream, and it’s on sale,” said Kellah pointing at one of the signs.

Ron and Hermione both gave Kellah a side-eye.“Well, if it’s on sale,” Hermione shrugged.

“I’ll pay you back,” said Ron.

“It’s ice cream, guys. No one has to pay me back. The girls are letting me get theirs.” Ron relented when his stomach growled and they all had their ice cream.

As soon as the ice cream was in her hands, Kellah could feel the coldness seeping through the cone as she started licking it. The other two objected, but Kellah knew if Harry wanted to buy you something, he would do it regardless. He was similar to Malfoy in that matter. Kellah shivered at the thought.

Strolling down the street Kellah saw a boy staring at her. Kellah stared and licked her ice cream slowly. The boy was not paying attention to where he was going, his eyes were fixed on her. She then bit the top off of the ice cream and the boy hit the pole of one of the shops.

Kellah looked at Hermione.“Mhmm, you're really going to town on that ice cream.”

Hermione swallowed the ice cream whole and coughed a little. Kellah patted Hermione’s back. “Hermione, are you alright,” asked Ron.

“Yeah she’s alright it was just too big,” Kellah snickered.

Ron rolled his eyes but Harry smirked. “Hermione you must learn to swallow.” Harry continued to lick his ice cream as if nothing had happened but he and Kellah were giggling.

They strolled down the cobblestone before Ron stopped them in front of the Quidditch Supplies Store. The window display featured a complete set of new Chudley Cannons robes, tempting her with their bright colors and sleek design. In a rush to finish his ice cream, Ron carelessly pressed his sticky fingers onto the display window, leaving behind messy fingerprints.

“Wouldn’t that look amazing in my room?” said Ron.

“Ya, just what you need. More orange?” Harry said playfully, shoving Ron.

Engrossed in window shopping, Ron was oblivious to the sly remark that was made.

“We should really get some ink and parchment next door,”said Hermione.

Kellah turned along with Ron. “We can look at that any old time, but not this,” he said, gesturing at the display.

Hermione grabbed him. “Come on, Ron.”

Clutching Ron’s collar, Hermione forcefully pulled him away. Harry and Kellah exchanged worried glances before resigning themselves to their fate, slowly entering Scribbulus.

It was another shop with the outside adorned with pastel windows. The inside however was not as colored it was quite boring. Lined with parchment, quills, and ink. It would make Hermione feel right at home.

Kellah wasn't too interested, but she couldn't resist buying some self-dipping quills that looked like miniature paint brushes. She contemplated getting a peacock's feather but ultimately decided it was too extravagant. Choosing the more practical self-dipping ink with a purple Fwooper feather for a quill.

In Gambol and Japes, Wizarding Joke Shop was on their list of places to visit next, which Hermione couldn't hide her displeasure about. It was suckling bright in the shop and it was beginning to hurt Kellah’s eyes. It was like a rainbow vomited glitter. She loved it.

The presence of the twins and Lee Jordan added a lively energy to the shop. They whipped out joke wands in a three-person stand-off, pretending to blast them as they turn into rubber chickens for Lee, flowers for George, and a gun that said bang for Fred.

Feasting their eyes Dr. Filibuster’s Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and the twins group started cramming as many as possible into their pockets and a wooden crate. As Kellah went to grab a firework, she could see Hermione's face twist in disgust. Kellah's anger boiled over, causing her to slam it down in a defiant act of protest. In the next minute, the shop erupted with the crackling and booming sounds of fireworks.

“Brilliant,” the twins said in unison.

Under the owner's piercing glare, Kellah fumbled in her pockets and miraculously found five sickles, though she couldn't afford to part with them. With a loud bang, she slammed the money into a jar of sickles onto the counter, startling the receptionist.

Leaving the Joke Shop entered a minuscule junk shop overflowing with shattered wands, uneven brass scales, and tattered cloaks stained with mysterious potions, Kellah stumbled upon Percy, enthralled in a dull and uneventful book titled Prefects Who Gained Power. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed after her and glimpsed Percy, his red hair unmistakable in the near-empty shop.

“A study of Hogwarts Prefects and Their Later Careers,” Ron read aloud off the back cover. “That sounds,” Ron made snoring sounds, “fascinating...”

“Bugger off,” Percy snapped.

“Course, he’s very ambitious, Percy. He’s got it all sorted out... He wants to be Minister of Magic...” Ron told Harry and Hermione in an undertone.

“Hermione would be Minister of Magic before you ever could, Percy,” Kellah laughed.

“I welcome the challenge,” Percy said, looking down at Hermione behind his spectacles.

Hermione was speechless as they left. “What was that for?” Hermione asked.

“For costing me five sickles,”said Kellah.

An enormous purple sign read Mr. Mullpepper’s Apothecary. The windows were purple as well. It was Kellah’s favorite shop by color alone. The inside however was rather dull. It was sort of monotone gray. Potion bottles were stacked in every walking path in tiny piles.The good stuff were in glass display cases.

They bought a few potion ingredients one being magical broomstock, and seeing the rare items overwhelmed Kellah's senses. As she gazed at the items in the rare dragon ingredient section, she could feel her breath hitch in her chest. Encased in glass, the items seemed to taunt her, their allure heightened by their unattainability. Hermione forcefully yanked her away, the sound of their hurried footsteps fading into the background. She held onto the table for dear life, her body trembling, until Harry and Ron intervened, dragging her away.

“I’ll be back for you,”Kellah cried.

The shop owner shook his head in annoyance. “Worse than Slughorn, I swear.”

As Kellah entered Madam Snelling's Tress Emporium, she could hear the chatter of customers and the sound of scissors snipping hair in the distance. You could smell the hair before you could see it. She loved that new hair smelled like candy you couldn't eat.

In the window were wigs arranged in a neat row, each beckoning passersby to try them on. The boys wrinkled their noses in disgust, remaining outside, loitering around. Hermione went in and couldn't resist picking up the jar of Sleekeazy Hair Potion, feeling its smooth glass surface.

Kellah's eyes drew to the braiding hair, where she spotted a few strands of unicorn hair sparkling with iridescent colors. The silver objects shimmered like a holographic rainbow when the light hit them. With a gentle touch, she arranged ten packs of hair, feeling the soft texture between her fingers. She didn't want to run out, knowing it would be difficult to replace.

“How much for this?” Kellah wagged one of the packets of hair as she asked the cashier.

“Thirty galleons,” she answered, not looking at Kellah the attendee then blew bubble gum.

“Why so much,” Kellah asked.

The bubble gum popped, and the attendee chewed again.“Unicorn hair is expensive. Regular packs would be ten galleons.”

“I’ll have that then,” Kellah said.

With a swift motion, the girl at the register caused the hair to flutter and land at the front of the counter.

“No, you can't? That money is for school,” said Hermione.

“It is for school. I need to do my hair before the first day of school. My mum sure isn’t going to do it now, is she,” said Kellah.

“You could ask my mum,” said Hermione.

“With the state your hair is in, no thank you, I’ll take my chances.”

With a furious expression, Hermione stormed out, leaving Kellah to purchase the hair.

They arrived outside Flourish and Blotts an hour later, greeted by the bustling sounds of shoppers and the smell of freshly printed pages.

The place was so crowded that it was hard to find a spot to stand. The line to enter was so long that it spilled out of the door, causing a slight obstruction on the sidewalk. Outside, a banner displayed a colorful message:

Gilderoy Lockhart is now signing his new book

MAGICAL ME!

Today 12:30 to 4:30

“I can’t wait to meet him. He’s written nearly all the school books,”said Hermione.

For Hermione’s sake Kellah tried not to roll her eyes as she stopped paying attention to Hermione's words. They quickly snatched a copy of the Standard Book of Spells Two while she rambled.

Kellah got down on the ground and could feel the rough texture of the floor beneath her knees as she started crawling.

“Are you even listening? What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

“I am not waiting in this queue.”

Ron flailed his arms. “I won't be queuing either.”

Harry doubled over with laughter, lowering himself to the floor, now crawling. They all started crawling, following Harry’s lead. Kellah brushed adult legs against her tiny body as she made her way through. As she listened, Hermione's voice failed to reverberate as it was densely packed. Kellah thought Hermione uttered the word "honestly" before she joined them in crawling down, but Kellah couldn't be sure.

She looked back and could have sworn Ron had looked up a lady’s skirt. Harry's fist connected with Ron's arm, causing a sharp jolt of pain that could be heard in his muffled cries.

Getting to their feet, they noticed they had shifted to a more expansive and peaceful area. They had suddenly appeared right beside Mrs. Weasley, startling her. The Granger family was positioned alongside the Weasley family, forming a united front.

“Godric’s heart,” said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. “He’ll be popping out in just a moment...”

With a dramatic flair with every step, Gilderoy Lockhart's hair swayed in perfect synchronization with the fans, creating an ethereal effect as he made his way down the stairs. Bringing himself to a stop, he struck a pose and flashed a flirtatious wink. The surrounding portraits seemed to copy his every move. Donning blue robes, his eyes seemed to mirror the vibrant hue.

Lockhart pushed up the cloak of his robes with a dramatic flourish, and it cascaded down over his shoulders. He signed a copy of Magical Me, his grin widening as he posed in the chair, knowing the cameras captured the moment. He got up and walked towards the desk, the floor creaking beneath his weight.

Pushing past Ron, the cameraman positioned himself to take some captivating shots. “This is for the Daily Prophet, young man.”Puffs of purple smoke emitted from the camera.

“So what?” Ron said, rubbing his foot after the cameraman stepped on it.

Lockhart's gaze on Harry was unwavering, like a predator honing in on its prey. Gilderoy Lockhart maneuvered through the crowd, finally reaching Harry, and they posed together for countless photographs. It was unbelievable to Kellah. Her gaze shifted to Hermione, whose eyes sparkled with excitement. “He’s so lucky. I wish it were me.”

Kellah and Ron both scoffed, their disdain visible in the sneers on their faces. She then pretended to stick her finger down her throat. Ron saw this trying not to laugh.

It was undeniable from Harry's strained stance. Unlike Lockhart, Harry was uneasy up there. As he posed for the camera, his smile seemed unnatural. Harry, although well-known, always seemed to have an unphotogenic aura about him.

Meanwhile, Lockhart was striking dramatic poses, relishing every moment. It was as if the flashing lights were invisible to him as he continued without hesitation. In stark contrast, Harry seemed completely disoriented, frozen in a state of shock with a forced smile, resembling a deer caught in headlights.

Lockhart's fingers released their tight hold on Harry, and the camera ceased its incessant whirring. Gildeory Lockhart then eagerly unloaded every copy of his books onto Harry, practically burying him. As the stack hit his stomach, Harry let out a grunt of pain. The Dursleys must have worked him tirelessly that summer because he carried all eight books, his arms straining under the weight. Kellah's crush on Harry was reigniting, but her heart sank when she spotted Malfoy on the staircase, his presence casting a shadow over the scene.

The sound of Lockhart's voice rebounded through the shop, causing Harry to quicken his pace to make his escape, all while Lockhart proudly proclaimed himself as the next Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Harry's face contorted in even more misery as he finally slipped away. He staggered to Kellah, who held a cauldron full of recent shopping items, and haphazardly threw the books into the mixture.

“Here, you can have them,”Harry said.

“I refuse to have these books. I’ll borrow Hermione’s,” Kellah said.

“No, you won’t,” Hermione put her foot down.

“Yes, I will,” Kellah handed them to Ginny. “Think of them as a gift from Harry.”

Ginny blushed, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red, and looked up at Harry, ready to say something, when Malfoy carelessly collided with Kellah.

“Loved that, didn’t you, Potter? Must you always be the center of attention? Save some for Weasley. His Mummy and Daddy don't have enough money, let alone love to go around,” said a voice that had haunted Kellah’s dreams all summer long.

Turning, she discovered Draco inches away, the fragrance of his cologne wafting towards her. A musky fragrance marked his presence with a delicate hint of lavender and tobacco. It was a powerful aroma, but it never crossed the line to overwhelm her senses. Kellah felt like she might have been accidentally sniffing him. He had said more words, but she wasn’t listening.

Kellah thought Ginny had finally said something in front of Harry, and it was to tell off Malfoy. She wasn't quite sure because she was thinking about how kissable Malfoy was with his stupid face.

“Oh, what a pleasure Malfoy has graced us with his presence,” said Ron, bowing dramtcially. Kellah stepped aside. Afraid of what might happen.”Surprising, isn't it to see Harry here, ya?”

“The real surprise is seeing you in a shop, Weasley,” retorted Malfoy. “I suppose your parents will have to rub two sickles together for heat this winter for their kids' school books. I wouldn't really call you kids, though.”Malfoy looked at Scabbers on Ron’s shoulder. “Yes, you’re more like rats.”

Ron and Ginny's faces flushed crimson simultaneously. Ron dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his cloak. Kellah desperately hoped that they would release their grip on Ron, secretly hoping that Draco would face the consequences. Kellah locked eyes with Draco, and in that moment, her resolve wavered. She was now holding Ron back, her fingers digging into his shoulder to keep him from advancing.

“Ron!” said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. “Let’s pop outside for a spot of fresh air. It's a bit crowded here.” Mr. Wesley glared at Draco as he said that.

“Arthur, no middle name Weasley. A bit of a disappointing name like you.”

It was Mr. Malfoy, his voice dripping with condescension. He stood with his snake cane perched on Draco's shoulder, the teeth leaving deep imprints. Draco moved aside with a sneer that mirrored his father's contempt.

His father possessed the same stunning beauty as Draco. As he walked by, his platinum blonde hair swayed elegantly, reaching the middle of his back.

Clad in a velvet robe, he showcased his impeccable taste with a beautifully embroidered vest. The weight of the decision to return the gifts to Draco now bore heavily on Kellah's mind. The family she encountered was a paradox of beauty and privilege that left her in awe.

“Lucius pompous middle name Malfoy as posh as your hair,” said Mr. Weasley, jokingly, but his eyes showed a cold stare.

“I hear you've been a busy bee at the Ministry,” said Mr. Malfoy. “All those raids... nasty business. The trouble with raids is the lack of overtime pay.”

Mr. Malfoy peered into Ginny's cauldron and then surveyed the disheveled state of Ron and Ginny.

“You’re a downright disgrace to wizardkind,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Yet you don't have the stomach to ask for proper pay. Pity and canoodling with Muggles no less” Mr. Malfoy glared at Kellah and Hermione, then his eyes shot to Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

Yeah, she should definitely return the gift and spare herself the guilt of keeping something she doesn't truly want.

Despite the ongoing conversation, Draco's furtive glances at her caused Kellah's face to flush with embarrassment. They were doing this right in front of the Weasleys and his father, who watched unknowingly.

Without warning, Ginny's cauldron launched into the air, leaving her dumbfounded. Mr. Weasley lunged at Mr. Malfoy, sending them both crashing into a bookshelf with a resounding thud.

A cacophony of yelling erupted as dozens of heavy spellbooks descended upon them like thunderous applause.

“Have at it, Dad!” from Fred. “It’s come to hands,” shouted George. Mrs. Weasley shrieked, “No, Arthur, think of the children!” Fred and George shouted. “It’s alright with us.” The crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over.

The butterflies fluttering in her stomach intensified as Draco leaned into Kellah. “So why didn’t you respond to my letters?” Draco asked.

“This isn’t the time,” she said, pushing him with weak resolve.

Draco wrestled Kellah to the floor, their hands tangled in a playful struggle. “Is it the time now?”

As their eyes met, he leaned in and brushed her cheek with a quick, affectionate peck. She gasped for air, knowing all too well that he had the power to leave her breathless. Ron's grip tightened around Draco's arm, forcefully pulling him away from her as a confrontation loomed.

“Gents, please — please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all — “There are children about pull yourself together.That’s enough, have your wits about you, break it up —”

It took both Harry and Hermione's efforts to restrain Ron and prevent him from attacking Draco. Hagrid was wading toward them, his massive frame causing the books to sway and topple. Within a heartbeat, he had forcefully torn Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy asunder. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip, and a thin red line of blood staining his pale skin.

Mr. Malfoy winced in pain as the heavy encyclopedia of toadstool collided with his eye. He tightly gripped Ginny's old Transfiguration book in his hands. With a menacing glare in his eyes, he thrust it at her. The unexpected weight caused Ginny's cauldron to wobble as Mr. Malfoy dropped the book and an extra one.

Kellah noticed it and handed Mr.Malfoy his book. “ I believe this is yours.”

Mr.Malfoy snatched the book before saying. “What was your name again, young Muggleborn child?”

Kellah poked him with her finger. “Kellah Onai-Dellarose.”

“Of course it's you,” Mr. Malfoy said, walking away and whipping his hair. Kellah got a full mouth of Mr. Malfoy’s hair, smacking her face as he left.

“Did he hurt you?” asked Hermione.

The memory of the kiss haunted Kellah's thoughts, making her wonder if she had missed it earlier. Or was Hermione just worried about Kellah being alone with Mr. Malfoy, his cold eyes sending a shiver down her spine?

“No, I’m alright. It’s just the Malfoys,” she said, spitting out a few of his blonde strands. She then pocketed them, praying she was good at curses.

“He’ll pay for whatever he did to you,” said Ron.

The muscles in Harry's jaw tightened as he locked his penetrating gaze onto Kellah.

Though it was clear the assistant wanted to prevent their departure. He hesitated, aware of his diminutive size compared to Hagrid. Hurrying up the street, the Grangers clung to each other in terror while Mrs. Weasley's face turned red with fury.

“Arthur Weasley, if I didn't know any better, I would think I had eight kids instead of seven…A brawl in front of the children, no less in public…Can you imagine what Lockhart must have thought of it all—”

“He said it was smashing,” said Fred —George interrupted. “He and that bloke from the Daily Prophet were having a chat about it. —” “They want to work it into the article. Lockhart said no publicity is bad publicity,” Fred and Geoge said together.

The downcast group returned to the flickering fireside in the Leaky Cauldron. The desire to take a seat washed over Kellah, her tired legs pleading for rest.

Kellah's face lit up with joy as she saw Dean with his mother, and she immediately broke away from the group to give Dean a tight, fleeting hug.

“You gave me a ring once this summer,” Dean held up a finger to make a point.

“But I did, in fact, give you a ring. You see, the mates and I made a pact: no calls until after Ron gets a phone. So you were quite lucky,” Kellah said, playing with the rubber band on her wrist.

Disappointment washed over Dean's features, his eyes downcast.“You could have sent an owl.”

“Yeah, after sending some to Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who didn’t respond, I forgot. Oh, and Hagrid.” She had almost said Malfoy but quickly stopped herself. Why was talking to him so easy.

“So letters to everyone but me. I’m so low on your list. You even sent letters to Harry, who didn’t respond, and Hagrid, the groundskeeper.” Dean’s voice had a bit of a tone, but he wasn't yelling at her.

Kellah blushed, unsure what to say to Dean. “I should go. See you at school, ya?”

“Right,” Dean walked away, sullen face until he saw Seamus. Dean smiled, but his dimples didn't appear. Kellah tried to wave Dean goodbye, but he didn't look back. She walked a bit, then stopped to glance, and he had started back at her but quickly turned his head.

The Granger family and Kellah rushed her past the noise and commotion of the Muggle Street. They all waved goodbye, their smiles fading as they watched each other recede into the distance. Mr. Weasley had a pressing question for Mr. Granger, so he pulled him away from the bustling crowd. Hermione and Kellah plopped down in the backseat of the car, feeling the cool leather against their tired bodies.

“That was eventful. Are you sure Malfoy didn’t hurt you?”asked Hermione.

“Not in the way you think,” Kellah said.

Hermione’s parents had entered the car. Mr. Granger said, “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“Do I need to have a chat with that Malfoy boy too?”

Hermione laughed. “Of course not. Kellah would never fancy Malfoy.”

“Yeah,” Kellah muttered, “never.”

“So just Ron then,” Mr. Granger said, starting the car.

Amidst their argument, Hermione's persistent insistence remained unchanged—she adamantly claimed that her connection with Harry and Ron was purely as friends, particularly highlighting her bond with Ron. Bur Kellah knew that wasnt true about Ron. Deep down ahe also knew that being anything emotionally with Malfoy was absolutely off-limits.

Chapter Text

Kellah had been toiling over whether to write Draco back for days. She had finally done it and she could muster only these words:

Days ago, he kissed her. Even though it was just on the cheek, Draco's gesture held deep meaning. What if he wanted to kiss her lips? Did she even know how to kiss? How would he use his tongue? Would she like it? Would it be nasty? Did she need to carry mints so her breath didn’t smell?

Every letter ended up in the rubbish bin, a culmination of discarded memories. At Hermione's house, late into the night, Kellah sat cross-legged on the floor, skillfully weaving a tight braid after many attempts. Her hair was now in box braids.

She had finally pushed her parents to the point of giving up on her. And she was glad if this was the life in store for her.

As Kellah looked in the mirror, she noticed a strand of hair was out of place. She reluctantly settled for braids bigger than she'd prefer, knowing it was her best effort. Her mum was far superior. This hairstyle couldn't compare in terms of taste and quality. Taking care of her hair, she applied gel to her edges and then covered her head with a generously sized bonnet, providing ample space for her braids.

Kellah watched Hermione sleep undisturbed, her hair a wild halo around their face, a cherished book cradled in their arms. And Kellah had always wondered why Hermione’s hair was always a tangled mess. Now she knew why. She checked her pillow; it didn’t even have a silk pillowcase, and she never wore her bonnet. Kellah gave Hermione her silk pillowcase. If Hermione were fortunate, she would wake up to find her hair looking immaculate the next day, thanks to Kellah.

Laying there, Kellah absentmindedly ran her fingers through the soft fabric of her blanket, her mind consumed by thoughts of Draco. She stared at the ceiling, tracing the cracks with her eyes. Kellah had always wanted glow-in-the-dark lights in her room, just like Hermione had, but her parents never approved of such things. They restricted her from doing much, but Kellah was determined not to let that hold her back anymore. She eagerly anticipated her return to Hogwarts, imagining the familiar sights and sounds that awaited her.

Graduation was still six years away for Kellah. With unwavering determination, she vowed to become a successful witch and sever all ties with them. That was one of the many things she and Harry shared. She yearned to send Harry a letter, hoping to find out how he was doing and offer her support.

Last year, Kellah had a major crush on Harry, but now she was unsure about her emotions towards him. It boiled down to Draco or Harry. She wanted to pick Harry, captivated by his infectious laughter and witty sense of humor. He was the obvious choice, the easy choice, but Draco was where her heart lay, with his charming smile and mischievous eyes.

Then that awkwardness with Dean lingered in the back of her mind like an unwanted guest. Did she like Dean as well?

If there were a Best Smile award, Dean would win. He had an infectious smile that made you tingle all over. Wizards were rare, but dimples were even rarer. Dean didn't smile much, honestly. He had a resting bitch face. He always had a severe expression, but when he smiled, it was like the sun had entered the room. The only thing that could eclipse that smile was the moon, and Draco was her moon.

She sat down to write a letter to Harry, but the words escaped her, leaving only a blank page before her. It was late. She then cleared her thoughts and began that letter to Draco again, hoping to find the right words this time. Whenever she sent a letter, he wouldn't be bothered by the time.

It was signed, seals,and delivered she even gave it a little kiss he would never know about. Kellah coaxed Milkyway awake and presented him with sugarcane.With a contented stomach, Milkyway fluttered out of the cage and released a joyful chirp into the air. She just hoped her owl would be back in time before Hermione awakened. Sleep claimed Kellah at last, her body sinking into the softness of the mattress.

The first thing she saw upon waking was a book flying towards her, landing squarely on her face. “Wake up. I started packing for the both of us and noticed you still didn’t buy any of the school books,” said Hermione.

Blinking in surprise, Kellah instinctively clutched the covers. Milkyway was nowhere to be seen, leaving a void in their usual spot. “I told you I wouldn’t buy those books from that pompous excuse for a writer.”

Shocked, Hermione expressed her surprise. “He’s brilliant. We are lucky to have him as a professor.”

Kellah got out of bed. “Unfortunate, more like it.”

“We must be prepared early, everything packed and ready, including first-day outfits. That way, when it comes round in a month, there will be no rush.”

“I'm not Harry or Ron, you know.”

Hermione continued to speak, but Kellah ignored her and immediately made her way to the lavatory. She removed her bonnet and replaced it with a soft terry cloth shower cap. Kellah was usually one to rush, but savoring the moment, taking her time, not wanting to engage in a disagreement with Hermione. She even had time to paint her nails a lovely shade of purple, the smell of the nail polish lingering in the air. The smell was nauseating, but her nails were not. She borrowed one of Hermione's lip glosses, noticing the subtle shimmer on her finger as she applied it.

The touch of Cadbury chocolate flavored lip gloss created a tantalizing blend that made her lips irresistibly moist. Kellah even swiped on some mascara, giving her lashes a fuller look. The desire to experiment with eyeliner tugged at her, but the fear of repercussions loomed over her. It wasn’t like Hermione had any. She eagerly counted the days until she could board the Hogwarts Express and unleash her magical abilities.

Exiting the loo, Hermione was there, her arms crossed. Having packed all their things. “You will get in so much trouble when we get there. You only bought a Standard Boom of Spells, Grade Two, Magical Broom Stock, and braiding hair.”

“It was all I could afford,” Kellah said.

Hermione’s face got sad. “You know Hogwarts or my parents would cover your books.”

“I will have them specially ordered by my parents on the first day, okay?” Honestly, she had thought about asking Malfoy but didn’t want to get him any ideas. “Til then, you can do a duplicate spell on the train.”

“That spell depends on how well I remember the books.”

“The way you read…it will be fine.”

“I don’t like it, but until you get them yourself, I’ll make my parents buy them or worse, Harry.”

Kellah glared at her. “Don’t you dare ask Harry? You know he’ll do it and not want me to pay him back. That would make me feel bad.”

“Good,” said Hermione.

Kellah had studied Hermione’s outfit, marveling at how it perfectly captured the essence of the beloved character. Despite the sweltering summer heat, she stubbornly wore a thick sweater and sturdy cargo pants.

“Hermione, stop with the dark academia sweaters. We’re not at Hogwarts yet.”

Hermione’s arms wrapped tightly around herself for solace. “I like it.”

“I’m getting hot flashes just looking at you. Do you have lace or crochet?” Kellah said, going through Hermione’s wardrobe.

“No,” she said.

“How about a dress?” Kellah pulled out a dress, she draped it so Hermione could see the dress over her body.

Hermione looked stunned. “Not wearing a dress on the first day back. Besides, fall officially starts the day we start school, according to my calendar.” Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror, then threw the dress on the bed.

“Yeah, but the weather says not until mid-September. Besides, Ron will see you.”

She caved, “Fine, a nice dress.”

Kellah picked a lovely tweed dress that exuded elegance, and she chose knee-high socks and Mary Jane's to complete her classy ensemble. It was as if Hermione had undergone a makeover, looking more polished than ever. Although she still wouldn't allow anyone to touch her lion-like hair, the silk pillowcase had tamed its frizz and volume.

“Aren’t you going to change into your first-day outfit?” Hermione asked.

Kellah was still wearing a cropped top but had on cargo pants. She pushed a braid behind her hoop earrings. “Nope, this is my new look for the year. New year, new me.”

Hermione was changing out of her outfit for the first day of school into regular clothes for the summer when Milkyway bounded into the room, dropping a letter at her feet. Kellah quickly packed her belongings and eagerly snatched up the letter.

“Who’s that from?” Hermione asked.

“My parents,” Kellah lied.

“Let me have a look.”

Kellah ripped the letter up and started eating the parchment. “It’s embarrassing,” she said with a full mouth.

Hermione muttered something and went down the stairs. Milkyway was hovering mid-air, giving her a coy look. “Get in the cage. I know you came late on purpose.”

In the cage, her bird was making a hooting sound that seemed like a series of laughs. Kellah shook the cage annoyed.Milkyway was flapping around angrily screamed bloody murder, then tried to take a nap.

They eagerly rushed to the table, their stomachs growling, ready to devour their breakfast. Hermione’s parents set the table with a spread of traditional English breakfast items, from golden toast to savory black pudding, lovingly prepared by her parents.

“Well, we don’t have work today, so what would you poppets like to do?” asked Mrs. Granger.

“The library,” Hermione answered excitedly.

“There is another outdoor escape room and a storytime blanket fort,” said Mr. Granger.

“Then there is LibrAnime Con. Dress up as your favorite book character or manga character. Although I’m not quite sure what a manga is,” said Mrs. Granger.

Kellah smiled."That sounds like a bit of fun."

Hermione held her hand, and they ran upstairs to her room. “I’ll let you borrow my Sherlock Holmes costume, and I’ll be Doctor Watson.”

“I want to be Irene Adler, the only one to beat Sherlock.”

“I should have known,” said Hermione.

Kellah tuned the radio to Choice FM 96.9. It was the twenty-four-hour black radio station. Omar Lye Fook’s song There’s Nothing Like This was playing. It was a soulful song that brought her peace as she danced. She was pleased to be here with the Grangers.

With the taste of breakfast lingering on her tongue, Hermione hurriedly sifted through her closet until she stumbled upon a dress with a bustle, hastily tossing it to Kellah. When she was about to slip it on, Kellah felt a cold chill someone was coming.Then there was a knock at the door. Well, more like several bangs.

She peeked outside Hermione’s door and heard shouting. “Return my child, or I shall report you for kidnapping.” It was her mum.

Mrs. Granger stood frozen at the door, and Mr. Granger moved before his wife to address Kellah’s mother."Your daughter is not here."

“She doesn’t know anyone else, and she has nowhere to go. I know she’s here.”

Kellah dropped the dress and took her first step, but Hermione grabbed her. “Don’t go.”

“I have to. I don’t want to get your family into any more trouble. Keep my trunk and Milkyway and load them up at the Hogwarts Express on the first day of school.”

Hermione hugged her."Okay, I trust you go."

With her head held high, she marched down the steps, her silence speaking volumes to her mother.

Back home as soon as she stepped through the door, her mother's spanking left her with a sore bottom and a s tear stained face. Once again, she found herself locked upstairs without means of communication or entertainment.

As her mother fumbled with the keys to lock her in, she screamed. “Is this what you did to your brother? Is that why he turned into an obscurus.”

Kellah’s mother slapped her face. It stung like a burn. “Don’t speak of him in my house.” Then she bolted the door shut.

Looking at her window, she noticed the newly installed bars trapping her inside. She pulled on them as hard as she could then screamed so loud the pitch stopped. Kellah clawed at her neck and cried collapsing on the floor. The only thing she could do was cry and beat on the floor until she was so exhausted she slept.

She woke up face tear-stained lying on the bed. Her father must have put her there. There was even food that was well-cooked on the nightstand.

There was a creak in her neck when she tried to move immediately felt a lumpy object beneath the hard pillow. Lifting the pillow revealed a hidden treasure - a stack of books tied together with a letter. Gilderoy Lockhart's books and an empty diary with the name Tom Riddle lay abandoned, the only remnants of whoever had been there before.

She opened the diary the paper turned from white to pink before her eyes. The pages whispered as they turned and she carefully uncapped a bottle of ink. Kellah dipped the quill and wrote.

As Kellah flipped through the pages, she couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that clung to the book. Her body suddenly stiffened, causing her to lose balance and collapse onto the floor, seized by a convulsive episode. The intensity of this vision surpassed any she had previously encountered. Overwhelming darkness cast a sinister aura, making her whole body feel defiled. The premonition hinted at a harrowing year to come at Hogwarts, with an ominous force threatening the safety of the school. Kellah's intuition told her the diary played a crucial role, its pages holding the key to the mystery. The vision stretched until it became a blur of colors and shapes she couldn’t decipher.

There was a faint sound of banging and shouts from the floor below as if someone was growing increasingly frustrated with her noise. When the vision was over, Kellah realized her nails had dug into the diary but left no damage. She hesitated to release her grip on it, fearing that discarding the diary would lead to disastrous outcomes. Kellah was resolute in her decision to keep the item to herself, refusing to let anyone else have it.

Kellah stretched her shirt to encase her entire body. She lay on the floor, the texture of the fabric soothing against her body as she rocked herself.

For an entire month, Kellah only had the company of that diary. She poured her heart out until her tears mingled with her words, creating a symphony of emotions. It spoke back to her as a friend, keeping her sane in this solitude. Or was it causing insanity to invade her mind? The house felt suffocating, but her only friend offered a way to break free and find solace in its pages.

Occasionally, she would play with her Barbie doll, but the diary's allure always drew her back to its pages. Between journal entries, she sought refuge in the wisdom of the Bible. It only took her a few moments to memorize it thoroughly. And when she was really bored she made brooms.

In that month, she had enough time to learn precision with hairstyles. She mastered the art of braiding and twisting her hair by practicing with the leftover hair she bought at Diagon Alley.

Since her mother refused to do her hair as punishment, she created shoulder-length micro-braids that showcased her creativity. She always looked forward to her father's meals, a welcome change from the usual unappetizing fare made by her mother.

Near the end of that month of torture, Kellah’s parents gave her an ugly plaid uniform for her new school, The Church of England, that made her feel like she was blending into a sea of conformity. She didn't bother to style it in a cute way. The only adornment she wore was a single red ribbon in her hair, adding a touch of color to her otherwise plain appearance. To appease her mother Kellah placed a purity ring on her left-hand ring finger. Kellah admired her nails they were clear and sharpened to a point.

With her backpack slung over her shoulder, she carried a change of clothes for herself later. Then delicately tapped on her bedroom door.

Her mother unlocked the door, and Kellah stood at attention, backpack on and Bible in hand. “You did your hair, and you’re all dressed for the first day of school.”

“Yes, ma’am. Matthew 24:42 So always be ready because you don’t know the day your Lord will come.”

Her mother hugged her, “You’re finally the child of God I have always wanted. I am so proud of you.”

Kellah walked downstairs, holding her mum’s hand as she took her to the van. Kellah’s father was in the car waiting for her. “There’s my little child of God. Get in.”

Her mother tried to get in, but Kellah’s father locked the door. “I want to take her to school alone. We haven’t had much time together.”

On the drive to the school, she rolled down the windows, relishing in the breeze from the wind through her hair. Her fingers instinctively searched for her wand on the stolen thigh garter belt, repurposed as a makeshift holster.

At the car stop, her dad kept the doors locked and looked at Kellah. “If I come round to pick you up this afternoon and you are not there, that’s fine.” He then handed her enough money for bus fare.

“Thank you, sir.”

Dropping her off at her new school, her father waved goodbye. He drove away and then she went straight to the girl’s bathroom. Kellah slipped into her mum's pilfered leather jacket she stole. Pairing it with a leather skirt Draco had purchased, feeling rebellious. Then tossed the purity ring in the trash.

She forcefully crammed the school uniform into the bag, feeling a sense of relief as she removed it from sight and then fished out some money. Kellah walked out of the school, nostrils inflamed by the smell of exhaust fumes from passing buses as she got on. After placing some cash in the fare box, she found a seat and patiently waited for her stop. It didn’t take too long. Before King's Cross, she stopped and spotted Hermione with her parents, busily unloading their car.

Mr. Granger looked at Kellah. “Did you say goodbye to your parents before you left?”

“We said our goodbyes the day I returned from Bible camp,” she said. She couldn’t wait to return to Hogwarts; the summer had been too much for her.

They carefully extracted Kellah's trunk from the car, causing Kellah's owl to flutter her wings and emit a series of annoyed hoots.

They had made it there early and were now at platform 9 ¾.

With Mrs. Granger and Hermione leading the way, Mr. Granger gestured for Kellah to join them by extending his hand. Kellah hesitated briefly before finally accepting the offer. Bursting through the brick wall, they were met with the iconic sight of the Hogwarts Express, its black exterior adorned with red accents, emitting thick clouds of smoke. Hermione and Kellah wrestled with their trunks, trying to fit everything in the cramped luggage compartment. Hermione went back to hug her parents, and Kellah waved.

“Should we wait for Harry and Ron?” Hermione said hopping back on.

Kellah smacked her lips. “Ron and his family are always late. They were late to Diagon Alley.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. They located a prime spot with an unobstructed view, ensuring they could easily see the boys' entrance. As Hermione read the Standard Book of Spells Grade Two, she frequently glanced at her watch, counting the minutes. Kellah read with her for a time but decided to put her additions back in the luggage compartment.

On her way there the train finally blew its horn and started moving. Now on a search for Harry and Ron, her heart skipped a beat when she saw Draco standing there, his silvery gray eyes staring back at her.

Draco was there alone. “So you received the books I sent.”

Her hands trembled, causing her to lose grip on the items, which cascaded onto the floor. Without hesitation, he bent down to help her, carefully gathering the fallen objects and placing them back into her trunk. The gentle touch of their hands caused a sudden sense of shyness.

“I know, but I didn’t ask you to.”

“You don’t have to,” he made a kissing motion with his lips, then walked away.

Brushing past Dean, Kellah noticed the tension in his voice as he muttered something under his breath. She returned to Hermione, and the shrill sound of the train's whistle pierced the air.

“They should be here by now,” Hermione was fidgeting.

“We can ask Ginny,” Kellah announced.

Hermione wasted no time. The sound of her breath ragged in her ears as she launched herself into a relentless pursuit of finding Ginny. It felt like time had reversed, and she found herself back at square one, reliving her first year. Memories from last year lingered in people's minds, causing them to give her the cold treatment. With newfound confidence, Kellah waved at Cedric, and the genuine smile he gave her made her feel like she was floating.

They had found Ginny. She was talking to a blonde girl, “Remember, watch out for Nargles,” she said, then skipped away barefoot.

Kellah wasn’t sure what that was but sat down anyway. “Who was that?” she asked.

Ginny nervously tugged at her clothes. “Luna Lovegood, a first-year like me, kept going on about Nargles,” she said.

“Where are Ron and Harry?” Hermione said, standing over Ginny.

Ginny shrugged. “They were right behind us. We had like two minutes to spare. Everyone kept forgetting things.”

Hermione plopped down. “What if something happened? You know Harry is accident prone.”

“Hermione, you are lucky I was here, or you would have been sitting alone,” said Kellah.

“Yeah, thanks,” said Ginny.

“I’m never dressing up again,” said Hermione.

“You do look charming,” said Ginny.

“Too bad no one will see under my school robes once we get there,” Hermione said sadly.

“Everyone on the train saw you,” said Kellah.

“Well, I hope they got a good long look. They won’t see it again.” Hermione pulled on her school robes early from her pocket. She had an extension charm on it.

“No one pays attention to first or second years, so I’m sure they’ll forget,” said Ginny.

Hermione looked like she was on the verge of tears in a panic, Kellah said. “So, who does everyone fancy?” She hadn’t meant to ask that one.

That seemed to make Hermione even sadder. “I don’t fancy anyone.”

“I fancy Cedric, but everyone does. He’s probably the most attractive guy in the school,” said Kellah.

“Was that the one with grey eyes and really nice hair?” Ginny looked as though she was swooning.“He’s downright dishy.”

Kellah smiled, “Yeah, everyone knows Cedric. It’s a face you can’t forget. Or the guy I dated this summer named Noah.”

Ginny blushed and it was brighter than her hair. “You’re dating already? Do your parents know?”

“They don’t, so it doesn’t count,” Hermione pouted.

Ginny winked and a held back tear came down. “Wicked, you’re such a rebel.”

“So, who do you fancy?” Hermione said, looking up.

“Harry Potter,” said Ginny.

Kellah giggled. “The other guy everyone in school fancies besides Cedric.”

“I wish I could talk. When I’m around him, I just freeze,”

“Just be yourself,” said Hermione.

“How can I do that when I don’t know who I am?” Ginny sobbed uncontrollable.

Hermione embraced Ginny and she cried into her arms. Kellah stood abruptly. “I’ll get tissues.”

In a hurry, Kellah rushed to the lavatory, her hand barely grazing the doorknob before swinging it open. Suddenly, a foot forcefully pushed its way through the door. Kellah couldn't help but notice Malfoy's black wool sweater, its fabric appearing snug against his body as he came closer.

Her eyes met his, and he traced the contours of her cheek with his fingertips, a gentle gesture teeming with affection. “I told you not to talk to me,” she said backing into the bathroom wall.

“You talked first, and you said at school, not on the train,” he said, pulling her face up to his. Draco’s body pressed against hers and she nearly leaned into him.

He towered over her, his voice reverberating with a deep resonance. The voice that spoke was unexpectedly mature for someone so young. Draco's lips brushed against her left cheek, then the right, leaving a tingling sensation behind. His lips lingered mere inches away from hers, teasingly close. As her head arched back, Kellah's body quivered with anticipation, ready to submit herself to him. Well, at least her lip virginity.

Then, there was a knock at the door snapping her from the trance. “I have to slash,” said the voice. It sounded like Dean.

Draco brought the wand up to his throat, “I’m taking a shit,” he said, disguised as Ron’s voice.

Kellah giggled, but Draco quickly silenced her with a gentle press of his hand over her mouth. As she licked his hand, hoping for him to recoil in disgust, he responded by slowly licking the same spot, savoring the taste.

Carefully, he wiped his hand with a silk handkerchief, feeling the slight resistance of the fabric against his skin, and then pressed it to his lips for a brief kiss. Finally, he folded it neatly and slipped it into his pocket. His initials came into view D.M.

The person outside had stomped off angrily, the sound of their frustrated steps fading away. Draco leaned in once more, his lips almost brushing against hers in that familiar way. In a split second, he changed his mind and pulled back.

“An indirect snog will have to do…for now.”

He left her standing there, her heart pounding in her chest.

Chapter Text

There, Kellah stood frozen, unsure of how much time had passed, before hastily grabbing the tissues and rushing over to Ginny and Hermione. While Hermione embraced Ginny, she mouthed the words, “What took you so long?”

Unsure of what to say, Kellah shrugged. “I had to shit,” she whispered.

When Kellah handed Hermione the tissues, she gave them to Ginny, who blew her nose with a loud honk and gently dabbed her face. Her face was shining with a fiery red hue, just like her vibrant hair. Her face was a canvas of emotions, with freckles emerging like tiny bursts of color amidst her tears. Kellah wrapped her arms around Ginny, intertwining herself with her. “Well, Harry fancies Quidditch, and he’s on the team. Why don’t you join?”

With tears glistening in her cheeks after a bout of crying, Ginny regained her composure and nodded to signal her agreement.

“Oh wait, you’re a first-year. That’s not happening,” Kellah said.

Ginny then broke out in tears again as she was making her shirt wet. Kellah pushed her face away and said. “Don’t worry. We will be your friends and guide you through the year.”

Ginny stopped crying and squeezed Kellah. She was surprisingly strong for her age and Kellah could barely breathe. “Good. I thought I would be alone crying in my room because I wear hand-me-downs, and my brothers always tease me.”

As if by some strange twist of fate, Kellah had a hunch that this was exactly what would have transpired if she hadn't been there for some mysterious reason. It must have been her powers as a Seer expanding.

Kellah's hand moved in a soothing motion as she patted Ginny's head, her touch eliciting content. Suddenly, she spotted Harry outside the window hanging from the Ford Angelina, prompting her to boldly point in his direction.

“That’s Harry and Ron in a flying car,” she said.

Hermione got up rolling her eyes. “Oh, my god.”When she saw it her mouth was nearly hanging on the floor.

A throng of curious onlookers gathered outside their compartments, their gazes fixed on Harry as he leaped back into the car and accelerated into the distance.

“Wicked,” the twins said in unison.

Draco had a vexed expression, then he directed his attention towards Kellah, surreptitiously retrieving the handkerchief when nobody was paying attention, mouthing the words “indirect kiss.”

Kellah went inside the compartment. Hermione had her arms folded. “Those idiots took the flying car to school. I hope they get into so much trouble.”

“I’m sure they will come on. Let’s put on our robes.”

Kellah and Hermione pulled in their relatively new robes, Hermione frowning as she examined her outfit. Ginny's faded robes hung loosely on her shoulders as she pulled them on. The fabric looked as if it would unravel in some places. Ginny saw Kellah looking and quickly wiped a tear away. Her cheeks were the same color as her hair.

Kellah smiled and did a spell on it. “Multicorfors.” Ginny’s robes changed to a black so dark they looked new.

“Thanks. Can you do the rest of my clothes?” she asked.

“Why don't you just go for a grunge look? Nirvana started it. They have been touring in the UK. They have really good music,” said Kellah.

“Whose Nirvana?” asked Ginny, bewildered.

“It’s a band Muggleborns will know about. They started this trend where you wear flannels, oversized clothes, and ripped jeans. Stuff like that. You could just put a girly spin on it.”

Ginny waved her hand. “That’s fine. Whatever makes my clothes look new.”

Hermione smacked her teeth. “Sorry for interrupting, but you can’t do most spells from our first year, but you can do Multicorfors. It’s at least Transfiguration level four.”

“That reminds me, we can go over some first-year spells. That might help. I’m sure Ginny won’t mind.”

Ginny sat down excitedly. “Yeah, it would be nice to learn some stuff before we arrive from my friends.”

The sound of giggles and cheers permeated Hermione with joy as she demonstrated first-year spells. Ginny was picking it up faster than Kellah was. It was a little disheartening.

Something nagged at her to an idea she was sure was not her own to find the diary to open it and ask for advice, like a snake whispering in her ear, but she fought it. Chipping at her thoughts on the outskirts, trying to penetrate her brain. Kellah sat with a clenched fist the entire train ride as she tried to practice the spells.

Time seemed to fly by for the others, but for Kellah, it was agony. She hadn’t been away from the diary for so long she didn't understand why she needed it. Kellah was sweating, and she looked pale, as reflected in the window. Black people didn’t get pale. This was bad. Her face had become ashen, lips chalky. She licked her lips, then applied more Cadbury chocolate flavor lip gloss. Kellah pretended to slap herself awake, but she tried to bring color to her cheeks.

The train had come to a complete stop, and the loudspeaker informed them of their arrival. Finally, Kellah unclenched her hands, revealing the red imprints of her nails on her palms.

Kellah hurriedly approached the luggage compartment, weaving through the crowded aisle. She quickly snatched the diary. When she opened it it said:

Panicking, she concealed it within the folds of her cloak. Right behind her, Hermione hurriedly grabbed her trunk, struggling to keep up. Restlessly hooting, Milkyway's calls screeched in everyone's ears, but Kellah's attention remained fixated on the confined space inside her pocket. Halfheartedly, she picked up Milkyway's cage, feeling its weight in her hands, and walked outside with the rest of the students.

“Firs yers dis way,” she heard Hagrid say.

Ginny had a scared look on her face. Kellah and Hermione hugged her. “It will be alright, go.”

Fred and George blew raspberries. “Don’t be the disappointment of the family and get into Slytherin.”

Just as Kellah was about to say something, she was interrupted by the unexpected force of Ginny's punch landing in Fred's gut. George slowly retreated, his palms facing out in a gesture of surrender.

As Hermione and Kellah saw a carriage on the other side of an iron gate. They could hear the creaking of the carriage wheels, even though no one was guiding it or horses to pull it.

“For a girl who was crying a lot, she sure can punch.”

The gates, made of iron, opened slowly, revealing the statuesque winged boars standing sentry. No horses were in sight, yet the carriage continued to move forward on its own accord. Dean and Seamus joined them, unable to contain their excitement, their bodies vibrating joyfully.

“Blimey, was that really Harry and Ron?” Seamus blurted out.

Dean smiled, and his dimples showed. “Their mad lads.”

“Yeah, it was them, but Harry and Ron aren’t the type to show off. Something must have happened,” Kellah said.

“I don’t think it’s a good look. They were reckless and could have hurt themselves,” said Hermione.

“If they survived, it was bloody worth it,” said Seamus.

“They’ll be talking about this all year,” Dean said.

Kellah laughed, “Yeah, until Harry does something else.”

“He won’t. I’ll make sure of it,” said Hermione.

“He always does, and he will, and you’ll help,” said Kellah.

Seamus jumped up excitedly in the carriage, rocking it. “I hope he does. It’s always interesting when Harry is around.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, never a dull moment with him or Ron.”

The entrance to the castle appeared before them, its imposing structure casting a long shadow. Their view revealed the first years, laughing and splashing in the lake's crystal-clear waters as they were ferried over it.

Dean and Seamus jumped down. Kellah and Hermione were on the verge of jumping down when Dean kindly reached out his hand to help them descend. Kellah hesitated before accepting his help. She nearly tripped on the way down, but Dean caught her in his arms.

Kellah did the one thing she shouldn't have: looked at his charming smile. “You’re such a gentleman.” There was a knot in her heart.

As Dean approached her, his deep voice reverberated through the air, sending a shiver down her spine. “I try to be.”

Picking it up as if it weighed nothing, Dean swiftly grabbed her trunk and seamlessly combined it with his, rolling them both effortlessly. Hermione gave her a sly look, peeking from behind a book.

Seamus waved his hands in protest. “I’m not doing that shite.”

“Charming, I’ll carry my trunk, shall I,” said Hermione, struggling with hers.

As Kellah and Hermione linked arms, they could feel the warmth of their friendship radiating between them, with Dean and Seamus not far in front. Hogwarts approached, the glow from its numerous illuminated candles grew brighter. The castle lit up the night sky, nearly outshining the moon. It was almost a shame Muggles could never marvel at the castle in all its glory.

They passed the imposing gates, where two gargoyles argued over a bet. Once they climbed the grand staircase and dropped off their luggage, the grandiosity of the castle immediately captivated them. Down to the Great Hall she went, where the atmosphere was teeming with anticipation for the feast.

The ceiling had its signature floating candles. Hermione kept a keen eye on it to explain to anyone that it was enchanted. Kellah kept her head down to save herself the lecture. It was weird being there with the other students and not as a first year. She was excited to pick a seat near the middle, but Hermione sat at the front near the Headmaster’s podium.

In the far corner was the House Points Counter, displaying the colors green, blue, red, and then yellow. To represent the four houses and the placement of the four dining tables. Kellah remembered losing them the House Cup last year because she broke a dress code rule. Well, it was several. Sunglasses, untucked shirt, and a necktie around her head as a headband with an open cloak. It was worth it, sure. Slytherin had won again, but Harry and their friends had saved the school from Voldemort.

Among the lavish decorations, she couldn't help but notice the familiar sight of the golden plates and goblets. To her right, Hermione was engrossed in a book, and to her left, Dean was sharing stories of his travels.

Kellah's attention was drawn to the Slytherin table as she observed the returning students engaged in lively conversation. Crabbe and Goyle formed a tight circle around Malfoy, their menacing presence closing in on him. The thought of being with Draco consumed her mind, leaving her curious about the intensity of their connection. How would that even work? Their friends hated each other. Beneath his rough exterior, there was a glimmer of goodness that couldn't be ignored.

His friendly demeanor was overshadowed by the negative influences of his upbringing and social circle. That was too much to think about at her age. She focused her gaze on Dean, who had a sly smirk playing on his lips. One dimple was visible.“What are you staring at?”

She poked his cheeks. “Your dimples. I think they’ve gotten deeper.”

His hand brushed hers, and she pulled it away. Dean seemed hurt by that. “They’re the same,”he said disheartedly.

Startled by a noise, everyone turned to see Malfoy's goblet tumbling to the ground, causing a loud clatter. As Crabbe picked up the goblet, Malfoy's hand shot out and snatched it away, frightening Crabbe. Had Malfoy seen her touch with Dean? It was just Dean, but maybe he liked her more than she thought.

Then, the first years came walking through. They seemed particularly short this year, or everyone else had gotten tall. “Finally, I’m starving,” said Seamus, rubbing his tummy.

Following the three-legged stool, the polished wood gleaming fed the bright lights. Professor McGonagall produced the sorting hat, its brim frayed from years of use. The hat made a harmonious sound as she placed it down gently.

We have what you sought

As long as you’re not caught

For Muggles can be treacherous

But some are quite generous

So don’t be misguided

That keeps us all divided

I’ll give you food for thought

Cause Hogwarts can’t be bought

Now place me on your head

And I’ll see what you’ve been feed

The air buzzed with excitement as numerous first-years chattered and laughed, but one individual stood out for their overwhelming joy. His face was beaming with a grin from ear to ear, and he couldn't help but almost jump up and down with excitement.

“Colin Creevey,” McGonagall called.

Breathless from his run, he hurriedly sat down and tugged the hat firmly onto his head. Kellah was hoping they didn’t get that one. As she leaned in, she noticed the faint freckles scattered across his cheeks. His short blonde curls bounced as he greeted everyone with a friendly smile. She could live with it. He was on the energetic side, constantly bouncing with restless energy.

“GRYFFINDOR!” yelled the hat.

As he sat down, he couldn't help but crane his neck, desperately searching for someone. Even though he gave up, his excitement remained unchanged.

In the middle of the sorting, Snape glided by, his presence casting a shadow over the room. Kellah felt a sense of foreboding, knowing that Snape's involvement meant trouble.

Ginny was then sorted. Her face was flushed to the point it looked like she had put red clown marks on her cheeks.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Fred's cheerful whistling accompanied the clapping of the present Weasleys, creating a festive atmosphere. She casually strolled over to her brothers, a sly smile playing on her lips. As George gleefully tried to put her in a headlock and tousle her hair, she quickly responded by giving a sharp pinch to his armpit.

Rushing out of the Great Hall, McGonagall grabbed the stool and chair, the sound of her hurried footsteps ringing through the corridors. Now, there was no Snape and no McGonagall, and there definitely was no Ron or Harry. Whispers spread like fiendfyre among the crowd as everyone shared their thoughts.

“I bet it’s Harry and Ron,” said Hermione, closing her book.

Kellah leaned her arm on the table. “Of course, everyone else is here.”

As Dumbledore approached the Phoenix podium wing spread open, his voice boomed through the hall, commanding everyone's attention.

“I must inform you that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits. No one below the Third Year is permitted to attend Hogsmeade. This year, a select few students will have the pleasure of participating in the Walter Aragon Wizard Chess Competition. We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Lockhart.”

The students, especially the girls, clapped at the teachers; they seemed rather annoyed. Professor Sinistra gave him a menacing side eye that could cut through steel. Despite her usual cheerful demeanor, Professor Sprout was clearly bothered that day.

Lockhart cleared his throat. “I’m sure you have never had a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher quite like me and not nearly as famous,” he winked, then threw his cloak. Girls at the front were fighting over it, one of them was Hermione. One of the girls yanked the cloak from Hemrione’s hand. Chuckling Lockhart bowed, then sat.

The interruption momentarily unsettled Professor Dumbledore, but he quickly regained his composure and carried on. McGonagall hurriedly approached Dumbledore, and as she did, the sound of sizzling and the sight of steaming dishes magically appeared. While walking down with McGonagall, Kellah, who urgently needed to speak with him, briefly halted Dumbledore.

“Professor, I know this isn’t the right time, but I would like to ask about ways to sell my broomstick I made over the summer over an internship.”

Dumbledore appeared intrigued, but another tap on the shoulder quickly redirected his attention: it was Professor McGonagall.

“Stop by the Headmaster’s office later.”

“If I knew the password or where to find it, I would,” Kellah said.

“Go to the Phoenix statue. It’s Sherbet Lemon. Now I must go, child.”

Professor McGonagall ran off, and Kellah was happy to get a word in. Hermione glared at her. “What was that for?”

“I was asking about the broomsticks I made this summer.”

“You can ask him that any time.”

Kellah stabbed her chicken with her fork. “Sure, tell me where his office is.”

Hermione made a face. “I’m not quite sure.”

“Exactly, that’s why I asked now,” she said, ripping the meat with her teeth.With Seamus and Dean nearby, Kellah hastily consumed whatever food remained, which wasn't much.

Just then, Snape returned, his eyes narrowing as he fixed a menacing stare in her direction. Undeterred by the intense stare, she maintained eye contact and casually enjoyed the shrimp flavor in her mouth.

Ginny's face wore a pleading expression as if silently begging for rescue, trapped between her brothers. They incessantly harassed that poor girl, unable to find any respite. She motioned for Ginny to sit by her, smiling and gesturing towards the empty seat. Ginny ran over to where Dean was, her footsteps reverberating through the Great Hall.

“There isn’t room,” she said.

Dean scooted over, giving Ginny his dimpled smile. “We can squeeze you in.” With a mighty push, he toppled Seamus to the side, clearing a path for Ginny to squeeze in.

“I don’t have a plate.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t need one soon," said Kellah. Just then, dessert came, and some bowls appeared with ice cream and sundaes. “See, just eat whatever doesn’t need a plate or whatever appeared with one.”

Ginny dug into her plate, devouring her food with the same voracious appetite as her brothers. Needing a girl's touch, Ginny desired the presence of someone who could infuse feminine energy into her environment. As Ginny indulged in her ice cream, Kellah noticed Dean's curious expression, but the piercing glares from Fred and George made him instantly regret it. Percy did the same, and Dean looked down at his plate afterward.

The food vanished into thin air, and in Dumbledore's place, he suddenly reappeared, causing a burst of applause and cheers. They all joined in singing the school song, but Kellah shot a disapproving glance at Lee Jordan and the mischievous twins.

As Lee Jordan reached into his pocket, he revealed a set of drumsticks poised to create rhythm and melody. George held his wand up, using it to amplify the sound, while Fred accompanied with a rhythmic beat created by his hands near the wand.

A drum beat had been introduced to Hogwarts’s song, infusing it with a lively rhythm. Fred George and Lee Jordan found themselves the target of Professor Sinistra's intense stare. She gave them a thumbs-up of approval and a feeling of satisfaction washed over Kellah. However, Snape's piercing glare was directed at Sinistra. Meeting his gaze head-on, she shot him a challenging glare, and they engaged in a covert, impassioned argument until Dumbledore's watchful eyes landed on them.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald,
Or young with scabby knees,

 

Our heads could do with filling,
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,

 

So we bid you truly welcome,
You are a funny lot.
But any guest of Hoggy Warty Hogwarts
Cannot be all rot.

There a sneaking suspicion that the twins had changed the last stanza because Kellah remembered it differently. The song's final notes dawdled before Dumbledore broke the silence with his words. "Surprisingly, it was Fred and George Weasley, with the accompaniment of Lee Jordan, who delivered the best rendition of our school song in years."

A wave of applause spread across the entire Gryffindor table, and the clapping soon spread to the Hufflepuff table. The Ravenclaw table responded with slow, polite claps, while the Slytherin table remained silent.

Suddenly, the sound of Percy's words broke the silence, permeating the room with his distinct voice.“First years this way.”

In a moment of panic, Ginny tightly gripped Kellah's arm. “Go, we’ll see you at the Gryffindor Tower later.”

Nodding Ginny rushed over to her brother Percy, and the warmth of his embrace made her look protected. Rising to her feet, Kellah and Hermione locked arms, ready to face whatever lay ahead. “We have to wait for those two,”said Hermione.

“You’re going to yell at them, aren’t you?”

“Naturally.”

Right behind the first years, Hermione and Kellah could hear the distant chatter of students and the faint sound of portholes opening and closing. She stormed in, giving the password “wattlebird,” and flopped onto the couch, not even bothering to open a book, consumed by her distress. Each time Hermione made an effort, she promptly closed it in annoyance, expressing her lack of interest in reading.

The room was packed and no one wanted to be in bed. Everyone's attention was focused on the door, eagerly anticipating the arrival of Harry and Ron. It was suffocating. There was barely a place to sit.

While the first years had already gone to bed, Ginny remained in the company of her brothers, enduring their teasing with Percy, standing guard to ensure her safety. Ginny possessed a natural charm and beauty. Still, her brothers' constant presence ensured she would never receive any attention from boys.

Kellah heard Percy say, “I heard Harry and Ron were expelled for crashing Dad’s flying car.”

“Really?” Fred said, putting his feet on the table. George joined in, putting his feet on them as well.

Ema Sato, the Gryffindor Prefect, came by slapping their feet. “Feet off the table,” she shouted.

She walked away, and they said. “Feet off the table,” in unison, and put them back on the table.

Percy then made them take their feet off, and then he chased after Ema Sato, leaning against the wall, but she could be heard saying baka. Not fully understanding the meaning behind Ema's words, Kellah could sense a hint of worry in Ema's voice, which made her uneasy. As Ema spoke with Percy, she saw a neglected spot filled with garbage. Without hesitation, she dashed towards it, snatched up the trash, and handed it forcefully to Percy, insisting that he dispose of it properly.

Hermione stood up. “I’m going to wait outside.” Grabbing a book she stopped then put it back. Kellah followed after her.

As Kellah observed Hermione pacing the corridor length she noticed Hermione was wearing a worried expression, something she had seen many times before. As they made their way down the corridor, they suddenly came upon Harry and Ron, engaged in a heated argument with the Fat Lady, who seemed unwilling to grant them entry. Anger radiated off of Hermione as she walked towards them with purpose. To catch up, Kellah had to speed walk briskly.

“There you are. There was a rumor you were expelled.”

“Well, we haven’t been now, have we? We’re here?” said Harry.

“I’m more interested in that contest and the prize money. If I win, I won’t have this broken wand, and Mum will never have to know," said Ron.

“Just tell her,” said Kellah.

“Yes, Ronald, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, she’ll beat me to death with my wand. She will.”

“Maybe if I tell her and say it was my idea, she’ll go easy on you,” said Harry.

Ron nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” he began to ignore them and talk to Harry.

“Don’t change the subject, Ronald. Did you two honestly fly that car?”

“Enough with the lecture. What’s the password?” said Ron.

“It’s wattlebird, but—” The portrait opened, and a storm of clapping cut her off. Everyone was trying to get at Harry and Ron. Hands reached for them, and Hermione and Kellah were ignored.

“That was brilliant. People will be talking about that for years,” Lee Jordan had said, shaking Harry’s hand.

“Wish we had thought of it,” said Fred and George.

Fred effortlessly hoisted Harry onto his shoulder while George mirrored the action with Ron. Every year, it seemed like Harry's popularity grew exponentially. As Ron stood there, his ears began to flush a bright shade of red.

Ignoring Hermione and Kellah, Percy maneuvered his way to Harry and Ron. Ema Sato wasn’t far behind, but they yelled “Night” and ran to their dorm room. Hermione crossed her arms, a defiant gesture that conveyed her strong-willed nature. Percy stood there, his presence commanding attention amid the group. “I will give them a good talking to tomorrow.”

Ema Sato came next to him. “Give everyone else a good talking to as well for this mess waiting up for them.”

Percy gave her a longing look, and Kellah felt as if she had interrupted something. Ema watched him watch her, ignored him, and said, “Show’s over to bed.”

Some people ignored Ema, but Hermione and Kellah went up the spiral staircase to their dorms, which now read SECOND YEARS.

With a sudden burst of energy, Kellah leaped into the air and tapped the sign, making a satisfying thud.

Frustrated, Hermione vigorously shook her head, her hair flying in all directions. Their suitcases lay on the floor, waiting patiently for Kellah and Hermione to retrieve their wands and unpack ”Irstipant.”

It was one of the few spells Kellah had learned. Arriving at Hogwarts, she realized that learning the packing spell would have been useful, considering the amount of luggage she had to carry. As she unpacked, her clothes magically found their way into the dresser, creating a tidy and inviting space. The few decorations she had instantly added a personal touch.

The sight of the star-shaped bottle of Angel perfume Draco had given her brought back memories of their time together. No matter how much Lavender's scent permeated the room, she couldn't bring herself to part with the perfume she never got to wear.

Among the scattered mementos, she stumbled upon pictures of Kellah and Hermione, frozen in time from that blissful summer. A picture of the four of them, taken by Hagrid at the end of the school year, adorned the space next to it. This photo was a cherished addition to Harry's photo album, which Hagrid had lovingly presented him with last year. And Kellah had made it a point to take pictures as often as possible for the unphotogenic Harry.

As Kellah glanced at Hermione's pictures, she noticed that most of them featured her family. Among them, there was also a photo of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kellah together.

The absence of a family photo with her parents made Kellah feel a profound sense of sadness. Her heart sank as she realized she had no visual reminders of her family to hold on to. They were awful, but they were still her family.

“So you adopted another first year? It’s Ginny this time, is it?” asked Hermione, interrupting Kellah's thoughts.

Kellah shook the thoughts from her head.“Ginny is the only first year I adopted.”

“You did the same with Neville last year.”

Kellah shrugged. “He doesn’t count. We were first years then, too, and Neville needs more help than I can give. He seems more like a group effort. I’ll reach out again when I can get a group.”

Lavender and Parvati had come in and started unpacking their bags, their hands swiftly organizing their belongings with practiced ease. Kellah knew the spell to unpack it. She had just done it, but she wasn't too keen on helping Lavender. With a huff, Lavender stopped packing and stared at Hermione, her eyes mad with frustration.

“Can you help us?” Lavender asked with a pout. “Puh-lease,” she muttered.

Layla raised an eyebrow and tapped the headphones, the music faintly audible to those nearby. Lavender scoffed, but Hermione, determined, ignored her and proceeded to cast the spell for Lavender and Parvati.

“Thank you, Hermione,” said Parvati.

All Lavender could mustered was, “Thanks,”

The girls were finally settling in, and Lavender decided to add some extra comfort to the room by tossing a rug and every pillow she could find onto the floor.

She plopped down on the floor and patted the empty space beside her, inviting someone to join. Parvati went down first. Kellah joined in with a cheerful smile, and Hermione followed with a sullen face, dragging her feet. When Layla joined, she deliberately sat on the edge of the pillow, isolating herself from the rest of the group. Lavender cast a spell over them as lights draped around, turning the pillow fort into a cozy sanctuary. Kellah laid down, being one with the fort. “Now that everyone is unpacked and relaxed, tell us what happened with Ron and Harry,” said Lavender trying to get the gossip.

“I refuse to discuss it. They deserve to be punished,” said Hermione.

“Well, I was one of the few people that saw them on the Hogwarts Express in the flying car,” Kellah said not afraid of a little gossip.

“I heard it was Mr. Weasley’s Ford Angelica,” said Parvati.

“Isn’t he head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department?” said Lavender.

Layla took off her hijab and headphones. “They will be in so much trouble.”

“But the glory they will be talking about this all year. Harry and Ron are so interesting,” said Lavender.

“Since when,” said Hermione.

“Since now,” said Lavender.

“Last year, it was Harry,” said Parvati.

It was starting to get awkward so Kellah blurted out.“So, who's everyone's crush now? Mine is still Cedric.” Which was half true. He was one of her crushes.

“Maybe Harry,” said Parvati, blushing.

“You and every other girl,” said Kellah.

Layla put her headphones back on and started getting ready for bed since the conversation was back on boys.

“I’m feeling partial to Ron,” said Lavender, tracing a design on a pillow.

“Why,” said Hermione, peering from her book.

“Because of tonight with the flying car, duh,” said Lavender.

The room was quiet, almost too quiet, until Lavender Brown decided to liven things up by putting on a record, breaking the stillness with a burst of sound. Wizard music was a new experience for Kellah, but she found it oddly familiar, like a variation of Muggle music. The instruments, however, had a captivating, ethereal tone.

“It’s the Weird Sisters, the latest in the Charmed magazine,” Lavender said, throwing it on the bed. Kellah picked it up and started devouring it.

They had already gotten a picture of Harry and Ron for the issue. She was so captivated by the magazine's content that she resolved to read every page and become a loyal subscriber to Charmed magazine.

“I heard Orsino Thurston is their drummer. He’s a sixth-year student,” said Parvati.

Layla took off her headphones to listen to the Weird Sisters. “Well, the rumor is he’s thinking of dropping out if they get any more popular.”

Parvati and Lavender started jumping around, their voices harmonizing in a joyful song. Their feet created a rhythmic beat on the floor.

Your hands are shaking, baby
You ain’t been sleeping lately
There’s something out there
And it don’t seem very friendly does it?
If I could help you, I would help ya
But it’s difficult
There’s something much more powerful
Than both of us possessing me

Their song was undeniably good, resonating with Kellah's ears and leaving a lasting impression. Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed by the comment, and headed towards her bed.

Nighttime rituals began, and the girls prepared themselves for sleep, all except Hermione, who stayed true to her usual routine of doing nothing. Parvati, on the other hand, stood out by meticulously applying coconut oil to her hair and fashioning it into a sleek single braid. Lavender had her rollers again, and both Kellah and Layla could feel the weight of their hair bonnets on their heads.

Parvati then began to pray, her hands clasped together in a gesture of reverence. Layla was on her prayer rug next to her.

In her dresser, Kellah found a doll that she had received as a Christmas present, still in pristine condition. Following suit, Hermione retrieved her doll from her dresser. They had a friendly play fight with the dolls before settling down to sleep. Lavender walked by and laughed. “Oh—my—days! You two still play with dolls.”

Still and unmoving, Layla lay there with only one eye peering out into the surroundings. During her prayers, Parvati's voice trailed off, leaving a quiet lull.

Kellah held her doll closer to her. “This is the only Christmas gift I’ve gotten from my parents last year. ”

Hermione raised her doll. “My Barbie is a veterinarian. I have no problem showing her off.”

Lavender sighed and plopped down on her bed. “Ugh, as if… I’m going to bed night all.”

Parvati cracked a smile, then continued to chant. Layla stifled a laugh.

The first thing Kellah saw upon waking was Parvati and Layla sitting side by side, deep in prayer. Even though she didn't enjoy waking up early, she found solace in the birds chirping that served as her alarm clock. But usually it was the chanting or Lavender’s coughing fit caused by her perfume.

As she carefully tied the red and gold bandana around her head, Kellah instantly felt a sense of confidence and style. Wearing her bucket hat was a desire she had, yet it was limited to cold weather and weekends, according to the rules. Kellah's willingness to put on the Angel perfume was interrupted by the sudden presence of Lavender, who had just walked into the room after her bath.To achieve her desired scent, she either had to rise at an ungodly hour or stay up late, as Lavender sprayed so liberally that her fragrance filled the entire room, while the other girls didn't bother with perfume.

While watching Lavender apply her signature perfume, she couldn't help but stifle a cough due to its strong fragrance. Lavender carefully selected her signature pink bow, fastened it in her hair, and added her owl necklace and a dainty pearl bracelet to complete her look. Kellah rolled her eyes at the situation, feeling a mix of annoyance and anticipation for her departure.

When she did leave Kellah sprayed herself with his Angel perfume, and the scent lingered around her like a delicate, heavenly aura.

Hermione, who was pretending to sleep, noticed Lavender had left and wasted no time getting up, just like she always did. While doing the least outer work than the other girls, she needed less time. Hermione, with her hair disheveled once more, rushed to get ready. The aroma of Chanel number 5 was the scent she basked in, mingling with notes of old paper and a subtle hint of vintage charm, but really, it smelled like an old lady.

Swatting it away, Kellah quickly retrieved the Angel perfume Malfoy had gifted her and discreetly secured it in her bag. She wasn’t going to smell like an old lady all day. Lavender and Hermione together would have her smell like a perfume bomb with a hint of mothballs.

In the common room, they took a seat and anxiously awaited the arrival of Harry and Ron. They didn’t take long, but they had an entourage of Gryffindor boys with them.

The atmosphere was excited as they descended for breakfast, with everyone enthusiastically exchanging hellos and eagerly hanging on their every word. No matter how much attention Ron received, it was never enough to satisfy him. Harry seemed happy to share the spotlight.

Hermione couldn't hide her irritation at the breakfast table, while Kellah discreetly glanced away whenever Draco's eyes met hers. She instinctively smelled herself. A smell of lavender with notes of Angel's scent. There wasn’t much of an old lady smell from Hermione, which was good.

As Harry spoke animatedly, recounting how they had received detention, emphasizing the disappointment of not being able to do it together. “Serves you right,” said Hermione.

“I love that you had fun, but you could have hurt yourselves,” Kellah said.

“We didn’t. We’re fine,” said Ron.

Hermione was adamant that she had no desire to continue the conversation. Their heads were inflated with fame, their egos towering above all else. Then, an unexpected letter arrived, interrupting their self-absorption.

As Neville opened the mail, he was shocked to discover something he had completely forgotten about. As usual, Draco received a bag of snacks from his mom, while Kellah was surprised to receive a package from Malfoy delivered by an unfamiliar owl. It was a bulky package. She was about to open it when Ron said, “Oh no,it’s a howler.”

Laughter erupted as everyone gathered around, creating a menacing atmosphere. In a burst of chaos, the explosion boomed through the room, and Mrs. Weasley's voice pierced the commotion.

“RONALD WEASLEY HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR. I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED YOUR FATHER IS NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT. IF YOU STEP ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE’LL SEND YOU STRAIGHT HOME!”

The howler blew a raspberry, then met its demise by ripping itself to shreds.

After it was done, Ron said, “I’m joining that chess contest to win so mum won’t kill me.”

Harry patted his back. “So much for sweet-talking her.”

Seizing the opportunity while Ron diverted everyone's attention, Kellah carefully opened the package, revealing a delightful white ferret plushie, its neck adorned with a dainty handkerchief.

The handkerchief carried the scent of crisp green apples mixed with the earthy aroma of leather and a hint of something metallic. It was their indirect kiss. She pressed it against her lips, feeling the softness and warmth of the fabric. Looking at Malfoy, she clenched her fist and delivered a powerful punch to the plushie, before swiftly stuffing it into her bag.

She then took the diary from her cloak opening it the first message read:

Kellah slammed it shut.

Chapter Text

On the way to Herbology, Kellah diligently wrote in her new diary, capturing her thoughts and emotions. With a touch of magic, she had shrunk and enchanted it so it remained hidden from prying eyes. She felt compelled to do it. Kellah didn’t know why. 

The diary held her heart and soul, each page a testament to her innermost desires and fears. The cause eluded her completely. Was it the diary itself? 

Placing the diary in her bra on the left side, she made sure Draco's handkerchief was safely tucked next to her heart on the right side. Her valuables were safely concealed down her shirt, making them impossible for anyone to see through her robes. Thank goodness she was still flat-chested, or it wouldn't be as comfortable and a lot sweatier.

Kellah had finally caught up with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, and as they gathered around the Whomping Willow, they couldn't help but notice its tired and worn appearance. Some of its branches were cradled in a sling for support. Kellah noticed several fallen branches scattered on the ground, remnants of the once majestic tree. The thought crossed her mind that the material had great potential for making excellent wands and possibly a broom. With her extendable backpack open, she quickly stuffed a few things inside, ensuring their safety for later.

A thought had crossed Kellah’s mind. What was the reason behind having such a large concentration of hazardous materials in close proximity? In that location, there was a greenhouse that was filled with an assortment of dangerous magical plants. The notorious Whomping Willow a violently aggressive tree everyone knew to avoid. Moreover, Hagrid's hut was known for housing a wide range of hazardous items, including a dragon at one point. Last, the Forbidden Forest was next to Hagrid's hut, adding to the overall aura of danger in the area. Well, it wouldn't be Hogwarts without child endangerment.

The danger of the greenhouses was lessened by their Professor. Sprout emerged once more, spraying the tree as it convulsed and then went rigid before finally loosening up under her care. The sight of a metal stick protruding from the earth startled her, causing the trees to tremble as it leaned their roots against it. 

While chatting with a young girl, Gilderoy Lockhart embraced her warmly, only to dismiss her moments later. Then he eagerly approached Professor Sprout, ready to regale her with tales. After he had just told Professor Sprout he could have helped with the tree, Kellah couldn't help but wonder what improvements he had in mind. Interrupting the conversation, Kellah curtsied and flashed a charming smile. “Thank you for your suggestion, Professor Lockhart. I would love to hear more in place of Professor Sprout so she can start the class early.”

Professor Sprout's expression of pure happiness was unmistakable as someone stepped forward to sacrifice themselves for her. “Ask for one thing in class, and you’ll get it,” Professor Sprout whispered to Kellah.

“Oh, Kellah, that would be lovely, but I must talk to Harry. Is it okay if I take him for a bit, Professor Sprout?” Lockhart said. “But another time, dear, another time,” he looked like he was scanning her.

“Please do,” Professor Sprout said flatly. She looked at Kellah, Hermione, and Ron. “Follow me to Greenhouse Three.”

Quickly, Lockhart seized Harry and led him away, leaving Kellah to intertwine her arms tightly with Ron and Hermione.

“Done writing your potion ideas?” Hermione asked.

“I am for now,” Kellah said, sticking out her tongue.

“You’re always writing in that thing,” Ron said.

“When I create a new potion, you won’t be mocking me.”

“Until then,” said Ron smugly.

They stepped into the colossal glass building, which the school proudly referred to as their very own greenhouse. The sheer number of sentient plants made it seem like they were inhabiting a bio-dome. The metal door screeched open, welcoming the class inside. With fear gripping them, they walked closely together towards Greenhouse Three. Positioned near the front, it was a short distance past the picturesque creek and majestic tree that guarded the entrance. Thankfully, it was not another Whomping Willow.

As they walked into the miniature greenhouse, the air instantly transformed into a warm and humid atmosphere, embracing them with its presence. Kellah practically ripped off her robes, desperate to escape the suffocating embrace of the fabric. Carefully, she hung it up on the coat racks, joining the multitude of other students' robes. Each class had a different label with their names, constantly changing.

Hermione had kindly saved them all seats, even though Justin Finch-Fletchy had attempted to take Harry’s. Putting on their aprons and dragon gloves, they geared up for the day's activities. Kellah desired a more decorated apron instead of a plain one. She wanted it to look like Mirabel Garlick, the best dressed and apparently hottest Herbology Professor ever. Her picture hung up in this Greenhouse. A redhead in a flowered hat holding a carnivorous plant as she smiled at it. Occasionally, a boy in class eyes would wonder at the portrait, and sometimes it winked.

 When Harry arrived, he glanced at the portrait, and it waved at him and then threw a rose. Harry blushed and found everyone already dressed in their garden wear, ready to start. 

In the center of the greenhouse, Professor Sprout stood surrounded by rows of vibrant green plants. Lying on a bench were twenty pairs of earmuffs, inviting students to try them on and find the perfect fit. “Today we shall repot Mandrakes. Now, who can tell me the properties of a Mandrake?”

Excitement filled the room as Kellah and Hermione's hands shot up, eager to share their thoughts. Hermione's gaze met Kellah's, silently communicating her annoyance. In his shy nature, even Neville mustered the courage to raise his hand halfway, hoping he wouldn't be picked. As Professor Sprout pointed to Kellah, Hermione dropped her hand and crossed her arms, clearly displeased.

“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” Kellah said. The class was giving her a look that they typically reserved for Hermione. “It’s used to revive people who have been cursed or transfigured.”

 “The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?” asked Professor Sprout.

With a sudden movement, Hermione's hand shot up, almost knocking Harry's glasses askew and causing an accidental collision between him and Kellah, resulting in a painful bump on her head.  

Sprout gestured towards Hermione, signaling that she should answer. Kellah could not respond fully due to her slight incapacitation. “For fully grown Mandrake, the cry is fatal, young ones, only cause you to faint.”

Sprout clapped her hands together, a small smile of satisfaction on her face. “Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor each.”

The Gryffindors celebrated their victory with a small cheer while the Hufflepuffs looked on, their annoyance clear. 

As Professor Sprout pointed towards a series of planting pots housing an array of plants, the group instinctively shuffled forward, eager to get a closer glimpse. The landscape was dotted with hundreds of purplish-green plants.

“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” said Professor Sprout.

Kellah was the first to pounce when the pairs were available, her fingers wrapping tightly around one. Overcome with panic, Neville hastily secured his pair, cinching them extra tight and adamantly refusing to release his hold. It became a frantic scramble for everyone to find something that wasn't pink and fluffy, but Kellah intentionally chose one of those. 

“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered,” said Professor Sprout. “When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right — earmuffs on.”

The earmuff caused the room to fill with an eerie, oppressive silence that seemed to press against her eardrums. All sound was shut out, but Kellah could discern a faint voice, its origin eluding her. It was a faint, almost imperceptible sound; she couldn't tell if it was coming from outside or just a figment of her imagination. It was repeating something, but the words were whispered too softly to hear.

Before she had time to contemplate, Professor Sprout swiftly equipped herself with earmuffs, rolled up her sleeves, and firmly gripped the Mandrake by its tufts, exerting a powerful force. 

As Kellah looked at the screaming plant silenced by the earmuffs, she strained to hear beyond the faint whisper that beckoned her.

With its head forcefully tugged, the plant appeared like a tiny, unsightly infant covered in mud. The creature's head was fascinating, with leaves growing out of it like a living garden. The sight of the mottled, shrieking form sent chills down everyone’s spine but hers. It was adorable to her, and she eagerly looked forward to replanting her own. 

Taking a substantial pot from under the table, Professor Sprout inserted the Mandrake into it, burying it in damp and earthy compost until only its leafy hair poked out. After completing her task, she brushed the dust off her hands, conveying her satisfaction with a thumbs up, and then removed her earmuffs, finally able to hear the world around her. 

All the sounds came back, like nature and the chatter of children, running water, and even a few bugs. Kellah wanted the ear muffs back on, but most of all, she wanted them so she could hear that voice again.

“Four to a tray — there is a large supply of pots here — compost in the sacks over there — and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula. It’s teething.”

When Kellah heard the name Venomous Tentacula, she winced, and a shiver ran down her spine. She didn't want to recall the harrowing experience of pursuing the philosopher's stone, where she narrowly escaped being attacked, battered, and spat up to death.

While speaking, Professor Sprout delivered a swift slap to a spiky, dark red plant, prompting it to retract its long, creeping feelers immediately. Kellah wished she was that confident with plants, but one day, she would be. 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kellah were crowded together with a small tray. And then, like a burst of energy, Justin Finch Fletchley arrived on the scene. She remembered him from being sorted; he was one of the Muggleborns who accompanied her to Diagon Alley. Justin had an undeniable charm. He smiled at them, and his teeth were so crooked that she swore someone punched them that way. 

With a friendly gesture, he reached out his hand to Harry, ready for a handshake. “Justin Finch Fletchy,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand a little too firmly. “You’re Hermione Granger, top of the class in everything,” Hermione beamed. He then looked at Kellah. “Well, almost everything, and Ron Weasley's best chess player in the school. And wasn’t that your flying car?”

A fleeting smile appeared on Ron's face, only to be replaced by a look of disappointment. Kellah was sure he was thinking about the car and the howler he had received. Inch by inch, Justin crept closer, his eyes locked on his target: Harry. Despite Kellah's claim to the spot next to her friends, he refused to yield and kept on talking until Kellah silenced him with a raised hand. 

“That’s my spot. There is a free one over there by Neville,” she pointed in Neville's direction.Her face lit up with a smile, and she playfully waved him away.

“We’ll chat later then.”

“I hope not,” Ron said under his breath. 

Following his departure, they were instructed to protect their ears with earmuffs and focus entirely on the Mandrake. The creatures hesitated to come out of the earth, but Kellah's presence meant no time for games. She pulled it out with all her might, feeling its desperate kicks and screams, but Kellah was consumed by a sudden realization that no one could hear her. So, she leaned in close and whispered to it. “If you don’t behave, I will drown you to death with love and care, so much so that even Professor Sprout can’t save you.”

As she glared at the Mandrake, her eyes stung for a minute, overcome by its pungent scent. The plant responded to her presence with a trembling sway of its leaves as if it could sense her energy. Suddenly, its scream stopped, and it seemed to be in a state of terror, desperately holding in a cry. Unlike her peers, she had no trouble replanting it swiftly and effortlessly. As she rubbed her eyes, she could feel a burning sensation, indicating they were red.

Professor Sprout's wand moved with precision, leaving a trail of glowing symbols in its wake. “Excellent work, Mrs. Onai-Dellarose. Now help your other classmates.” 

She wasted no time approaching Neville, only to discover that his Mandrake plants were already planted. Surprisingly, he displayed an exceptional talent for Herbology. 

Kellah was going to help Justin, but he, too, was eager, so she circled by Seamus and Dean. Seamus plant emitted a faint smoky scent. There was a mishap on Seamus's part, which had made the plant behave, but she wasn’t sure it would survive. 

Completely absorbed in his struggle, Dean failed to register the presence of smoke, although he couldn't miss Kellah's presence. Trying to help, Kellah clutched the plant, only to be met with an unexpected resistance that made him quickly retract his hand. The Mandrake slipped from their hands, but she swiftly caught it, gently swaying it back and forth like a baby before presenting it with a nearby vegetable. It seemed to be like that. Then, with a smile, she handed it over to Dean. His touch was forgiving this time. He mouthed the words “thanks.”

She walked back over to her friends, and they were not a happy bunch. There was an unfortunate incident involving Ron's hand being bitten. Following that unfortunate incident, Harry had a crooked pair of glasses after being kicked in the face. Hermione's hair had been pulled, leaving it messy and more unruly than usual. How they handled the Mandrake looked like they were caring for living infants. 

Exhaustion hung in the air as the class came to a close, but Neville and Kellah remained unaffected, seemingly untouched by the draining effects of the lesson.

 The castle beckoned, and everyone was eager to finish cleaning up and return.

Later, they had a Transfiguration lesson that involved the challenge of turning a tiny beetle into a perfectly shaped button. 

Having Hermione with her for part of the summer was a stroke of luck for Kellah, as they had gone over their lessons while riding the train. Everything was fresh, but the rest of the kids looked like they had forgotten everything, desperately trying to grasp the concepts. 

All of Harry's attempts had yielded no results. Every time Ron waved his wand, it emitted a series of sparks. A gray puff of smoke materialized from his hand, accompanied by the foul scent of rotten eggs, surrounding the beetle and ultimately leading to its demise. Panicking, Ron frantically tried to save it but accidentally crushed it, realizing he needed another beetle. Professor McGonagall was not pleased.

However, Kellah had made her button gleam like gold. Hermione had made hers sparkle with diamond encrustations. As the voice spoke again, she strained to listen but could only decipher a few words from the muffled sound. Help…do better.

It didn’t sound like her own, but she had thought it hadn’t she. 

While they were walking to lunch, Ron was venting his frustrations about his wand. Hermione had no sympathy, as far as she was concerned. Ron was to blame for both the car accident and the wand-breaking incident that occurred when he collided with the Whomping Willow.

 Hermione ignored him and, adept in Transfiguration, showed off the many buttons she had crafted, contrasting with Kellah's single button. Help…you.

Frightened, Kellah's thoughts were a jumbled mess as she desperately tried to make sense of whether she was the culprit or if there was another person involved. Did witches and wizards hear voices? Could it be a normal occurrence? Was it the sinister influence of another witch, or was it merely the result of mounting stress that made her question her thoughts? She contemplated going to the nurse, but maybe it was stress from keeping the secret about liking Malfoy. Yeah, she was sure that was it. What else could it be? 

“What’ve we got this afternoon?” said Harry, hastily changing the subject and snapping Kellah out of it.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Hermione at once.

“Why,” demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, “have you outlined all Lockhart’s lessons in little hearts?”

Blushing furiously, Hermione snatched the schedule back with a swift movement.

Kellah also snatched the paper, feeling its crisp texture in her hands. “She’s in love with him. I bet you write Lockhart and Granger on parchment in hearts over and over.” Hermione grabbed her bag and held it close to her chest before Kellah could go for that, too. Oh, she would let her guard down eventually, and Kellah would show Harry and Ron. Mainly Ron, his reactions to her were always the best. Teasing their will-they-or-won't-they dynamic was her favorite pastime. 

The courtyard beckoned them when they finished their meal, and they couldn't resist its charm. The temperature was just right, making it a comfortable day to be outside, enjoying the warm sunshine. It would have been better if it was after school or the weekend. Some kids were trying to get in recess and chasing each other with brooms. 

Once again, Hermione was engrossed in her favorite book, Wandering with Werewolves. The book had Lockhart save a village from one. Surprisingly, it showed werewolves in a good light. That made Lockhart somewhat of an advocate. Kellah was sure it wasn't on purpose. He seemed too selfish for that. Kellah redirected her attention to Harry and Ron. She shouldn't have.

The boys were talking about Quidditch, so Kellah took out her diary and began writing in it again. In her writing, she detailed her anxiety, grappling with the uncertainty of discerning between reality and illusion as a witch and pondering the complexities of mental phenomena in this realm. How she was always second in everything compared to Hermione and Harry, got all the spotlight, how Ron had the best family, and she was just the leftover. She was a Seer who barely saw anything.

As she poured her heart out, she felt tired but less stressed. Maybe it was an emotional drain. She was trauma-dumping everything in the poor pages of the diary, but that's what these things are for.

Her diary pages fluttered as if eager to reveal their secrets when a sudden camera flash caught her attention. Looking upwards, she was surprised to see a small boy with adorable blonde curly ringlets. Though he was tiny, his cuteness was impossible to overlook. After closing the diary, Kellah carefully concealed it in the hidden compartment of her left bra cup, feeling the weight of the secrets nestling against her skin.

The boy went up to Harry, his words tumbling out in a rapid, unstoppable stream. The only words that registered were, “I'm Colin Creevey…Can I have a picture?”

“A picture?” Harry repeated blankly.

Just as Colin opened his mouth to speak, Kellah abruptly stood up. “Of course, he will take a picture with you, maybe even sign it, but you have to take pictures of all of us as a group.” Eager to please, Colin nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t treat me like Lockhart,” said Harry.

“Just do it. It’s for your photo album, and we don’t have many pictures together.”

Harry's troubled expression didn't stop him from taking the pictures. Hermione tried to take photos while holding her book. “Trust me, you won’t want his book in the memory,” Kellah said, placing it on a bench.

Ron was full of joy was striking a variety of poses. Ron and Kellah were the ones who brought the most energy to the event. Harry's rigid posture resembled a board, while Hermione, despite her shyness, found enjoyment in posing. Throughout the photo session, her face turned red with embarrassment in every picture, but you could barely see it behind her bushy hair. 

You could see the progression of their journey through a series of photographs as Harry and Hermione became more comfortable. They ranged from singles to pairs and groups of three or four. The pictures she treasured the most captured the genuine bond between her and Hermione, their radiant smiles a testament to their deep friendship. Ron and Harry had the same connection in their pictures.

Yet someone had come to ruin their fun.“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?”

Colin flashed his camera and blinded Draco momentarily. ‘You're just jealous.”

Draco laughed a big fake laugh.”Jealous of scarhead.”

Kellah's heart swelled with joy as she caught sight of Draco standing menacingly behind little Colin. She gripped him, her fingers digging into his arm, and forcefully pulled him into the picture. “Yes, now do one back-to-back with Harry.”

“I would rather eat slugs,” Malfoy said.

Ron unsheathed his spellotape and its sticky surface, glinting in the light. “I can arrange that.”

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. Kellah whispered into Draco’s ear before he could badmouth Ron. “Take these pictures, or I’ll tell everyone about your letters.”

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Fine, we’ll take pictures with Potter.”

The sound of their laughter abruptly cut off as Crabbe and Goyle struggled to catch their breath, their faces contorted in surprise.

While everyone else was miserable, Kellah was joyfully embracing every moment. The image of Draco and Harry, standing back to back, became her favorite moment in pictures. 

“I’ll pay you not to let any of these see the light of day,” Draco sneered at Colin.

Kellah rushed up to Colin, her words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. “I want copies of every photo, and I’ll make sure you get a signed picture with Harry.”

Colin froze, a smile spreading across his face as he stood utterly still. 

“Off you go, move along there,” Lockhart called to the crowd, and he returned to the castle with Harry. Kellah, Ron, and Hermione tried to stay by Harry’s side, but Lockhart was shooing them away. He was giving him a celebrity pep talk. Kellah took out her diary once more and began jotting down her thoughts as she walked and talked to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione was engrossed in her book, Wandering with Werewolves, while Ron absentmindedly twirled a chess piece shaped like a knight in his hands.

They all gathered around the table, their eyes shifting back and forth, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Harry. No sooner had Harry sat down than Ron approached him and started speaking. “You’d better hope Colin doesn’t meet Ginny, or they’ll start a Harry Potter fan club. Justin would probably join, too.”

“Just what I need more attention on me so Lockhart can give me more useless advice,” Harry snapped. 

Hermione was on the verge of saying something, but she abruptly halted when Lockhart dramatically whipped off his cape and flung it onto a nearby table. The table had Lavender, Parvati, and Pansy. Lavender's hand closed around the cape, only to have it snatched away by Pansy, who couldn't resist running her fingers over it. Lavender's face flushed with silent anger, her brows furrowed, and her lips pressed tightly together. Kellah could feel a vision coming on, and as it unfolded, she saw Lavender, who appeared older, giving her the same intense gaze. Not wanting to dwell on it, she shook her head, deciding to put off any concerns until much later if she ever recalled them. Kellah's attention shifted to Lockhart, who she caught in the middle of a sentence.

“Me,” he said, pointing at himself and winking. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award, but I won’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!”

With bated breath, he waited for the eruption of laughter from the crowd, and some did laugh, mostly the girls.

“I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books.”

“Not by choice,” Kellah said to Ron, who stifled a laugh.

“I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in —”

When he handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, “You have thirty minutes — start—now!”

The questions were stupid and all about him. Kellah knew most of the answers. After all, she had read the books because she wanted to pass her second year, and it was read that or the Bible. Choices were limited when on punishment and because Hermione wouldn’t shut up about him, and it was stuck there in her brain, living rent-free. 

There were fifty-four questions on the test. She had never seen someone so self-centered in her life, and she had met Malfoy. Well, he had his moments.

Lockhart continued his never-ending monologue and emphasized how everyone had failed his quiz. Only Hermione and Kellah performed admirably, leaving everyone else behind. And Hermione knew every answer. Gryffindor was awarded ten points for that, thanks to him. A mischievous wink to the two girls from Lockhart had Seamus and Dean trying to stifle their laughter, shaking with amusement. Ron sat there in disbelief. 

Behind his desk, Lockhart squatted down and effortlessly raised a massive cage, though his face was red until he placed it on the desk.

“Now — be warned! My job is to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you while I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm.”

Folding her arms in irritation, Kellah made her displeasure clear. She felt she would learn as much as she did in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year, which was nothing. 

Leaning forward, Harry focused intently on what lay ahead. Dean and Seamus exchanged amused glances before finally suppressing their laughter, their grins still visible. The front row held a cowering Neville, his wide eyes darting around anxiously. 

Gilderoy Lockhart's swift motion sent a hush through the class as they eagerly waited for him to reveal what was underneath the cover.

“Yes,” he said dramatically. “Freshly caught Cornish pixies.”

Seamus burst out laughing, unable to contain his amusement any longer. Kellah laughed a little with him. Pixies were a level three beast any competent wizard could handle, but Lockhart didn’t seem very competent to her. 

Their electric blue color caught her eye as she looked at the pixies. Their pointed faces and shrill voices made it feel like a flock of arguing budgies surrounded her. When the cover was lifted, they erupted into a frenzy of chatter and energy, shaking the bars and contorting their faces in strange ways toward the nearby students.

“Right, then,” Lockhart shouted. “Let’s see what you make of them!” And he opened the cage.

It was chaotic, and something in Kellah liked it. They caused as much mischief as Peeves would. They were hanging Neville up by his ears in the air and hooking him to the chandelier. Some shot through the window. They banged erasers, and chalk fog was in the air. With it, they took ink bottles and graffitied the room. They grabbed books, and Hermione was beside herself when they started ripping them and throwing them out windows. Half the class was under the desk.

“Come on now — round them up, round them up, they’re only pixies,” Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, “Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”

Wrong, said the voice.

It had absolutely no effect; one pixie seized his wand and threw it. Ron caught it, then threw it out the window. “You could have kept that instead of the wand you have.”

The color drained from Ron's already pale face. Then he hit the pixie he stole the wand from.

The bell rang, and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron,Kellah and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, “Well, I’ll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage.” He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him while holding the waist of another female classmate.

Kellah hid under a desk and took out her diary. The diary spelled out the pronunciation, and she read it aloud.

“Peskipiksi Pesternomi!” Kellah said, and all the pixies were sucked back into their cage like it was a vortex, and the cage shut and locked.

“How did you do that?” Hermione said, stopping her freezing charm mid-cast.

“He said it wrong and flourished his wand too much,” Kellah said.

“Surely you know as well as I do he was just giving us hands-on experience.” Hermione picked up a few books. “He could have handled it if he wanted to.”

“Hermione, he’s worse than Malfoy. He’s cute, with no brains, and old,” said Kellah.

“That’s bad if Malfoy is coming up looking like roses,” Ron said. 

Slamming the cage, Hermione spoke.“How dare you compare him to Malfoy.”

“Yeah, don’t insult Malfoy like that,” said Harry, laughing.

Another set of books was severely handled by Hermione.“And he’s not that old.”

“He’s twenty-eight,” Kellah shouted.

Ron chimed in. “Which is too old for you.”

Hermione rolled his eyes. 

“This is going to cut into our dinner,” said Ron.

“Is all you think about is food,” Hermione said, opening the door.

“No, I think about the chess competition, and if I make the team, it’s all I’m good at.” They walked to the Great Hall.

“You’re good at loads,” said Harry.

“Like what?” asked Ron. “I’m not as clever as Hermione, as popular as Kellah, or as athletic as you, Harry.”

“Ron, you are the heart of this group. You’re the glue. We wouldn’t be friends without you,” Hermione said, then blushed.

“No complimenting me, but do go on,” his face was beet red.

Kellah hugged Ron and was about to kiss his cheek when Hermione glared." You know we love you, Ron," Kellah said, glaring at Hermione.

“Ron, you’re my best mate,” said Harry.

“Best mate,” Kellah said, letting go of Ron. “He’s your favorite.”

“It’s a guy thing besides Kellah, Hermione. You’re each other’s best mates. The two top of the class, though with Draco and Padma, are close on your heels, Kellah,” Ron reassured.

“Why are you paying attention to Padma, Ronald?”

Ron avoided eye contact and ignored her as they entered the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione and Kellah sat down, and all the boys surrounded Harry and Ron.

“What’s so special about Padma?” Hermione asked Kellah.

“Her and Parvati are apparently the prettiest girls in our class,” said Kellah.

“And what am I?”Hermione asked.

“The cleverest, and I’m the most popular, remember?”

“Why do you get to be the most popular?”

“Probably because I was the only girl to join that fight with the boys last year, and I dress cute, no thanks to my parents.”

The meal was consumed in silence, with Hermione stealing glances at Ron, Kellah keeping a close eye on Malfoy, and Dean, but then something else caught Kellah's eye: Lockhart talking to Ginny, his hand on the small of her back in the dark entryway to the Great Hall.  

Chapter Text

As Quidditch practice approached, whispers of the Slytherins' Nimbus 2001s spread like fiendfyre. Kellah wanted to see Harry practice, hoping to glimpse his skill and determination. But deep down, she also yearned to see Malfoy in action. As the day progressed, she was euphoric at the thought of taking a peek during Malfoy’s practice. There was a rumor among girls Hermione excluded, of course, that he was the new Seeker.

In the wee hours of the morning, Kellah reluctantly rolled out of bed when she heard an alarm signaling a boy had tried to enter the girls’ dormitory. Oliver Wood was shouting, “Get up! We have Quidditch Practice.”

Knowing Oliver Wood's obsession with winning the Quidditch Cup required an early start for Harry. Kellah got up, too. Naturally, Ron and Hermione had gotten up at the butt crack of dawn as well. 

Kellah contemplated throwing on any random outfit but ultimately chose from her collection of pre-made outfits, a skill she learned from Lavender. Something Kellah was thankful for while looking at her collection of pre-made outfits, which were labeled Cocktail, Clubbing, Walk of Shame, Quidditch Match, and School Event. She went for the one-way at the back that said Casual. She eyed the Walk of Shame and said no to herself, perhaps one day. 

Delightfully, she adorned her body with the cropped jersey, proudly displaying Harry's number. In a rush, she hesitated when her eyes fell upon the perfume Malfoy had presented her with the previous year called “Angel” Malfoy was anything but and so far by this year's standards neither was she. Kellah couldn't resist the temptation and gave herself a quick spritz before leaving. The sudden noise startled Lavender, causing her to wake up and instinctively fling a pillow in Kellah's direction. “Go to bed.”

The sound awakened Parvati, prompting her to retreat to the corner for her morning prayers. Noticing it wasn't sunrise yet, Layla tucked herself back into bed and caught a few fleeting moments of sleep. To drown out the praying, Lavender clutched the pillow tightly to her head, hoping for some peace. 

Kellah knew Hermione was already at breakfast with Ron, as they always started their day together.But she would join them later. 

It was still dark outside behind the central bell tower of the castle that struck seven. Kellah followed a path that led her to the greenhouse. As she made her way along the route, the living land decorations amazed Kellah, especially the dragon-shaped one that greeted her with a thunderous roar. Vibrant green plants lined the path to the greenhouse, growing increasingly grand and lush as she approached. 

The castle's grandeur would overwhelm her senses each time she went to the greenhouse. It’s a wonder they ever got to class on time. It was, without a doubt, a demanding workout, making her muscles ache and her heart race. More walks like this and she could be on the Quidditch team.

The apiary came into view, and she could see the bees buzzing busily around their hive. The air carried a peculiar scent like a glum bumble infestation had taken over. Ingesting this honey had dire consequences, driving individuals to madness before ultimately claiming their lives. The busy nature of dealing with the Whomping Willow had caused them to overlook the well-being of the honeybees, and she knew she had to report this to Professor Sprout.

It was a giant glass building the size of a mansion housing seven other connecting greenhouses inside. Upon reaching the entrances, visitors would see a colossal metal door adorned with intricate carvings of a plant. An immense door loomed before her, and as she took her first step, the uneven cobblestone sent vibrations through her feet. One greenhouse caught her attention as she approached, with a small pond nestled by the steps that drew her eyes towards it. With deliberate steps, Kellah made her way to the back of the greenhouse, her fingers lingering on the smooth metal railing before she entered. Among the various rooms, it was one of the more perilous. There was also an undercroft where mushrooms, devil snare, and plants that didn’t wish to see the light of day.

A tree stood tall and proud, its branches reaching towards her as if to say hello. She walked the path. Kellah counted the greenhouses and went to the one numbered seven. Students passionate about plant projects had a dedicated space in this area where they could care for their unique botanical endeavors. A prominent sign in the greenhouse helped the students quickly identify the different areas to prevent any mix-ups. Rumor has it that a first-year student mistakenly entered the wrong greenhouse and had a close encounter with a carnivorous plant, narrowly escaping being devoured. 

When she stepped into the greenhouse, a sneaky tendril snagged the calf of her baggy jeans, which had a distinctive red stripe. By simply flicking her wrist, she cast Incendio, and the smell of burning vegetation wafted through the air as the vines recoiled from the heat.

Now Kellah vetted each seed, feeling their texture and examining their color, ensuring they were suitable for her broomcorn. The seeds she planted blossomed beautifully by the mix of gold, black, and red of the Hungarian variety, adding a pop of color to her garden. It had grown unusually reminiscent of a cornstalk, except that there were patches of grain instead of a husk. She clipped the broom corn in sequence, then uprooted the roots and arranged them on a table. Next, she pulled out a wide-tooth comb and combed the seeds into a bag for future planting. 

In her quest for the best quality, she meticulously tested each option. Kellah gazed at the three rows of broom corn, silently yearning for the ability to expedite its growth with her limited knowledge of spells. She would spend hours poring over books and articles to gather information. Oh, no…she was turning into Hermione. 

Later in the year, they would learn the Engorgio charm, and with its help, the plants would flourish. Although she was confident in her ability to use it on herself, she lacked the knowledge to use it on other things. She had her eyes set on using the Gemino and the Herbivicus charms to achieve her goal. Once she learned them, of course. She worried the charms might be too advanced for her, but she would challenge herself. It was fortunate that they cast the Celescere spell in the greenhouse. Kellah's green thumb was a gift, but it came with a price - she would get rough with the plants that didn't cooperate. 

Finally, she finished separating the broomcorn fibers, her hands tingling from the repetitive motion. Taking care, she gathered them up and tied them into bundles, allowing them to air dry. The moment she stepped out of the greenhouse, she could feel the sun's warmth on her skin, signaling that the day had finally broken. 

Walking by Hagrid's hut, she couldn't help but notice the colorful garden surrounding it, filled with peculiar plants and animals. The persistent crowing of a rooster disrupted the peaceful silence. Upon getting closer, the creature unexpectedly pounced on her shoe, injuring itself and causing her to recoil in surprise. It consistently carried on with the same action. Annoyance washed over her, intensifying with each passing moment. Before she could fully comprehend the situation, she was already walking away, her shoes leaving a trail of blood in her wake. To clean it off, she used Aguamenti, conjuring a stream of water that swept away the mess.

Kellah's rumbling stomach served as a reminder of the appetite she had built up in there. Eagerly, she hurried off to breakfast, and the lively sounds of clinking plates and animated conversation greeted her as she entered the dining hall. Ron and Hermione were deep in conversation, the clinking of their utensils punctuating their animated discussion as they enjoyed a game of wizards' chess. Ron was a bit of a slob, but he kept his chess set clean. As Hermione devoured her toast and marmalade, she lost herself in the pages of her chess book before moving the queen piece that argued against it.

Along with everyone else, Kellah had a small meal, feeling the satisfaction of a full stomach. However, the allure of the sizzling bacon was too strong for her to resist.

Once Ron emerged as the winner of the chess game, they promptly dismantled the board and made their way toward the Training Grounds. His pockets were bulging with food as Ron walked, the sound of wrappers crinkling with each step. It was hard for Kellah to fathom that he would eat it in such a manner. Ugh, teenage boys will eat anything. He snacked here and there on the walk, eating the parts he deemed worthy.

Hermione began reading her book, immersing herself in the story as they descended. Kellah reached into her bag and pulled out her diary, a charming little potion notebook that she had crafted herself. 

“You’re always writing in that thing,” Hermione said over her shoulder. 

Kellah slammed the diary shut. “And you’re always reading.”

“It’s too early for this,” Ron said with a mouth full of food.

Scabbers perched on his shoulder as Ron walked, occasionally twitching his whiskers in curiosity. There was an eerie sensation that the rat was actively observing the drama, even though Kellah couldn't comprehend why. As the question was posed to her, Kellah shook her head in firm denial. They walked in silence the rest of the way, reading, writing, and eating. 

As they arrived at the Training Grounds, they sat on a bench and immediately absorbed the energy and enthusiasm of the surrounding athletes, including Colin Creevy, not an athlete but still overflowing with too much energy. Kellah placed Hermione in the middle, ensuring she was seated beside Ron. 

Colin Creevy came over with his camera, excitedly documenting every moment with his snapshots. He plopped down beside Kellah, their shoulders brushing against each other. “I have the photos of everyone they move and everything.”

Colin handed over the pictures to her, his hands trembling with care, and Kellah wasted no time in eagerly presenting the cherished memories to Hermione and Ron. Looking at the photo, one could easily notice Harry's reluctance, clear in his tight-lipped smile. Draco's doppelgänger’s gaze lingered on Kellah in front of him. A calculating expression crossed his face, showing that he had a secret plan in mind. Hermione's image showed complete engrossment in her book, with her nose practically touching the pages. Kellah herself wore an expression of uncontainable excitement, and Ron's face mirrored the same enthusiasm. It really captured their essence. 

“They came out great, Colin, thank you,” Hermione said.

Ron looked at them, his eyes crinkling with a warm smile. “If you do me a favor, I can get Harry to sign you an autograph.”

“Anything,” he said.

Ron's voice dropped to a hushed whisper as he spoke to Colin. Hermione rolled her eyes, and Kellah couldn’t blame him for asking a favor. 

“What's been going on, Colin?” Kellah asked.

Ron and Colin stopped chatting.“Harry has been in the locker room for an hour,” said Colin.

“The entire team is Wood must be giving them a pep talk,” said Ron. “After Cormac McLaggen had to substitute as Seeker when Harry was in hospital last year. It was dreadful. They took Cormac out. It was the worst game Gryffindor had in 300 years. You and Harry were both in the hospital wing, but me and Hermione saw it.”

“Mhmmm, yes,” said Hermione. “Riveting match.”

"Yeah Wood had to —- Look, it's Harry!" Ron pointed out, rising from his seat.

Stepping away from Ron, Colin eagerly clicked away, capturing the moments with his camera.

 “Aren’t you finished yet?” yelled Ron incredulously at Harry.

Harry flew over on his broom and dismounted."Haven't even started," Harry said. Kellah heard his stomach rumbling as he watched Ron and Hermione enjoy their toast and marmalade. “Wood’s been teaching us a few moves. But it's been more of a long lecture about strategy in the locker room.” 

Harry mounted his broom and flew back, his body seemed to tremble with exhaustion, as he kicked off the ground and into the air. Instead of focusing on his practice, he spent most of his time airborne, conversing with his teammates. Pointing an angry finger at Colin, Wood seethed with frustration as he continued to click away with his camera. 

A sight caught Kellah's attention - a group of people, all wearing green uniforms, walking onto the Training Grounds while gripping broomsticks. The Slytherin team, clad in their signature green and silver robes, took to the field. The Gryffindor team landed, their feet meeting the ground with a soft thud, ready to face the Slytherin team. 

Help you , a desperate voice cried out. This was the last thing Kellah needed right now - she was pressed for time. The voice nagged at her, demanding attention, but she brushed it off, determined to address it at a more convenient time.

With determined expressions, Ron, Hermione, and Kellah exchanged knowing looks and dashed down the stands, their footsteps resounding loudly. 

“What’s this about?” Ron asked Harry. “Why aren’t you practicing? And why is he here, of all places?”

As she observed Malfoy, she couldn't help but notice the sleek, emerald green robes adorned with the silver serpent emblem, marking him as a member of the Slytherin team. Kellah had developed a preference for men in uniform. Well, boys, in this case.

“I’m on the team Weasel Bee, the new Seeker, in fact,” said Malfoy smugly. “Ah, I see you’re admiring our new brooms. Father bought them for the whole team. Maybe if—”

Kellah's attention shifted from the conversation to the broom, capturing her curiosity. With its black hue and hints of green, the object exuded a sleek and modern aesthetic. It had a thick frame and bristles that boasted a fresh green hue. The broomstick appeared quite robust. Unlike the Nimbus 2000, it boasted more incredible velocity and a striking, lustrous finish. Kellah wished she could craft a broom like that. Harry’s broom looked dull next to the Slytherin team’s new brooms.

 In complete disbelief, Ron stood there with his mouth agape. Kellah shut it for him, and Hermione shot her a disapproving look for daring to touch Ron. 

While the brooms appeared nice, Kellah reluctantly acknowledged that Malfoy looked far more appealing. With his hair slicked back like a character from the 20s, he exuded a certain old-world elegance that seemed to suit him effortlessly. Against his pale skin and the green uniform, his silver eyes sparkled like precious gems. 

Near the end of the conversation, Kellah caught snippets of what was being said. Now that she was no longer distracted by Draco.

“On the Gryffindor team, no one had to buy their spot,” said Hermione sharply. “But a nepo baby like you wouldn't know anything about that now would you.”

Kellah knew she had to say something. “Some people are naturally talented, while others have to buy it.”

The smug expression on Malfoy's face faltered as if a sudden realization had dawned on him. “No one asked you two, you filthy little Mudbloods,” he spat.

The silence in the air was so deafening that it was almost suffocating until a thunderous uproar from the Gryffindor team shattered it. Malfoy's words were incomprehensible to her, but the sinister smirk on his face hinted at the maliciousness behind them. Flint had to position himself in front of Malfoy quickly, using his body as a shield to protect him from the harm Fred and George could cause. 

In a fit of anger, Ron brandished his wand, causing Kellah to panic. She lunged towards Malfoy, her hand gripping his collar tightly. “I’ll give you a reason to call us Mudbloods.”

She boldly planted a kiss on him without knowing why, causing everyone to gasp in surprise. As their lips met, they shared a tender, undisturbed moment, as if time had frozen and it was just the two of them in an empty universe. This was her first proper kiss, and it was with Malfoy. "Now you have the Mudblood cooties," she said teasingly, with a mischievous smile. 

A look of astonishment crossed Malfoy's face. “You—you,” was all he could say.

"How does it feel," she spat out, "to have the taste of Mudblood on your lips for your first kiss?" She said, then hastily wiped her mouth.

Bent over and spitting, Malfoy's actions only further infuriated the Slytherin team. Kellah barely had time to react as Malfoy lunged towards her, his face twisted with rage.

Everyone stood there, uncertain of their next move, but Ron broke the silence by retrieving his worn-out wand. “How dare you! Ron swiftly reached into his robes, retrieving his wand with a determined grip. "You'll regret that Malfoy!" he shouted.” With furious determination, Ron aimed the wand directly at Malfoy's face, just under Flint's arm.

With a scowl on his face, he spat the words out. “Eat slugs!” The stadium permeated with the sound of a thunderous crash as Ron's wand misfired, unleashing a beam of green light that collided with his stomach, knocking him off balance and propelling him onto the soft blades of grass.

“Ron! Ron! Are you all right?” squealed Hermione. On the verge of tears, she cradled Ron's head in her lap, desperate to provide him with some comfort. Abruptly, Ron sat up and unleashed a deafening belch that resonated in the ears of everyone around. To everyone’s horror, his mouth became a breeding ground for slugs, which oozed out and settled on his lip. 

The Slytherin team was in fits of laughter, their boisterous chuckles resounding on the field. Flint was holding his broom for support with a stitch in his side from laughing so hard. Malfoy, who always tried to maintain his dignity, burst into fits of laughter, pounding the ground with each uncontrollable burst. The Gryffindors stood close to Ron, creating a support barrier yet keeping their distance as if afraid to touch him. They watched in horror as he continued to expel slugs with each belch, the slimy creatures wriggling and squirming on the ground, causing people to recoil in disgust.

Only Harry dared to snatch Ron, showing his bravery.“We better get him to Hagrid's. He’ll know what to do.” 

With a synchronized effort, Hermione and Harry yanked Ron upwards, supporting him by his arms. As they walked, Kellah stayed close behind him, gently massaging his back to provide comfort while the slimy trails left by the slugs glistened under their feet. Trying to keep up with him, she had to constantly step over various slugs, unfortunately causing damage to her platform trainers. Kellah wished she had grabbed one of his arms now to spare her shoes.

Colin had sprinted down from his perch, camera in hand, capturing every moment. He walked up to Harry and planted himself directly before him, obstructing his path. As she stumbled, Kellah's hands instinctively reached out, colliding with Ron's back to steady herself. Ron's wobbly footing threatened to send him crashing down, prompting Harry to lend his support and carry the bulk of Ron's weight while Hermione strained to carry the remainder. 

Fascinated, Colin uttered an "Oooh" as he lifted his camera to document the moment. "Harry, can you please keep him steady?" 

“No! Shove off, Colin!” said Harry angrily. Hand in hand, he and Hermione guided Ron out of the stadium and along the path that led to the forest. The scent of pine was in the air. More likely a bowtruckle family.

As they approached the gamekeeper cabin, Hermione whispered to Ron. “We're nearly there. You'll be fine soon - just a little longer,” she reassured him.

With unburdened arms, Kellah forcefully banged on the door, demanding attention. The door swung open in Hagrid's hands, revealing a dimly lit room filled with the sound of crackling firewood. “What’s duh mattah,” he asked with a concerned look.

Harry and Hermione struggled as they maneuvered Ron into the cabin, finally easing him into a chair. Kellah used all her strength to push the chair into the table, effectively keeping Ron from falling. The impact of the table against his stomach caused him to violently regurgitate a slug, which catapulted across the room and landed on the floor. Ron let out a low groan and rested his head heavily on the table, his body unwilling to budge. 

"Sorry, Ron," Hermione murmured, her hand soothingly rubbing his back. “Nothing to do but wait it out.”

Plunking a large copper basin in front of him, Hagrid chirped, "Bettah out than in," with a smile. “Yeh get it all out of yer system.”

Recognizing the severity of the situation, Kellah couldn't help but think that Hermione's gestures of consoling Ron as cute. 

Of all the chairs that had not yet been taken, Hermione, Kellah, and Harry occupied the remaining ones. Ron was accompanied by Hermione, who stayed close to him, and Harry mirrored their actions by doing the same. 

With a shiver running down her spine, Kellah moved nearer to the fire, seeking its comforting heat, while Fang happily showered her with drool. 

“Right then, tell meh,” Hagrid said, nodding toward Ron with a jerk of his head. “Who was tha curse fer.”

“Malfoy called Hermione and Kellah something bad. I'm sure of it because everyone went mad,”said Harry.

"It was bad," Ron said hoarsely, his voice trembling as he emerged over the tabletop, his face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. “He called them Mudbloods Hagrid—”

Ron's desperate grip on the basin tightened as he hunched under the table. His retching contaminated the air with a nauseating smell. He emptied the contents of his stomach with a loud splash. 

“Did not,” Hagrid growled at Hermione.

“Did, too,” Hermione said. “But I’m not quite sure what it means. It seems derogatory. I could tell it was rather rude.Of course, I have been called worse.”

“So have I. The Muggle world has one. It starts with an N,” said Kellah.

“It's so much worse than that. It’s about the most insulting thing you can say in our world,” gasped Ron, returning up. “That word I won't speak it again. It’s a foul name for someone who is Muggle-born — meaning they have non magical parents. Some wizards — like the Malfoy’s — think they’re better than everyone else because they have so called pureblood.” He belched, and a family of slugs fell into his outstretched hand. Ron tossed it into the basin and continued, “I mean, the rest of us know it doesn’t make any difference. Look at Neville Longbottom — he’s Pureblood and can hardly hold his wand the right way..”

Hagrid proudly declared, "They haven't invented o’ spell our Hermione can't do," causing Hermione's face to turn a bright shade of magenta.

“That just makes her a model minority. It's not really a compliment, Hagrid,” said Kellah, crossing her arms. “Also, she’s incapable of casting Unforgivable Spells and doesn't have the stomach for it.”

Hermione's face turned pale as all the color drained from it.

“Thought it were o’ compliment,” Hagrid said.

Ron shot Kellah a skeptical glance from the corner of his eye. “Anyways,” Ron said, his hand shaking as he wiped his sweaty brow. “Calling someone that is absolutely disgusting. Dirty blood. Bad blood. Stupid is what it is. Most wizards are half-blood or less.” Ron's frustration boiled over, causing him to forcefully eject a slimy slug from his mouth. “The sacred twenty-eight would have us all marrying our cousins with Habsburg's jaw. We would have died out if we hadn't married Muggles.” Ron hit his chest and hiccuped a slug.”If we followed the one-drop rule, there wouldn't be any Purebloods.”Bile could be smelt in the air as he retched, hastily hiding himself from view once more.

“Well, I don’t blame yeh, Ron. It is Malfoy,” said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. “Too bad yer wand backfired might be a good thing, I reckon. ’Spect Lucius Malfoy would’ve stormed the school if yeh’d cursed his only son. I think you don't want another howler. And think of the trouble.”

“He's got enough trouble with slugs coming out of his mouth,” said Harry, playing with the fudge treacle Hagrid had cooked for them.

“That snake Lucius, he'll do something, I ‘pose. Nah, what this nonsense ‘bout o’ signed picture, an’ yeh haven’t given old Hagrid one?”

Harry had ground his teeth before speaking. “I haven’t been, and that was one time to Colin because he took photos that Kellah wanted of the four of us and Malfoy.” He spit the last part out like venom. “Lockhart loves spreading that rumor around!”

Hagrid laughed. “Makes sense Lockhart would lie I tolds him yeh see that yer more famous den em.”

“Bet he loved that,” said Harry, sitting up and pushing the food away. 

“Oh I knows he didn't dats why I dunnit,” said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. “An’ another thing to boot, I told him I says I read not one o’ yer books.Then off he popped.” Hagrid waved his hand. “Oh, Ron, yeh should eat yeh wantin’ some of me treacle fudge?” he added as Ron reappeared.

As Hagrid slid a plate of fudge treacle to Ron and Hermione, they couldn't help but notice the gooey texture and rich smell that should have been chocolatey but was in fact not. Hermione shook her head in denial, gently tucking back Ron's hair as he struggled to either vomit or regain his appetite. “Don’t want to risk it,” Ron said, turning his face up at the food.

Hagrid then pointed his finger at Kellah. “Nah, I got o’ bone ter pick wit yer too. What yer kiss Malfoy for?”

Kellah was so happy she would blush if she could. She would have been beet red. “I panicked, and I heard public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”

“It certainly made me uncomfortable,” said Harry.

“Well, dat o’ fix’ em. His firs’ kiss will be somethin’ he won’t soon forget. He won’t be tellin’ his father’ bout dat now will he?”

As the clock struck six, it was now dinner. From morning until nightfall, they remained dedicated to nursing Ron back to health, never leaving his side. He appeared to be completely recovered. 

Upon hearing his complaint, Kellah immediately offered him a sip of briny salt water to soothe his mouth, followed by a magical chocolate to energize him. It seemed to help. He cautiously nibbled on the smallest fragments, and a flush of color reappeared on his face as he did. The number of slugs escaping his mouth had significantly decreased, much to everyone's relief. Ron hiccuped one baby slug as they walked up the path, so they all deemed that good enough. 

As they barely set foot in the school entrance hall a voice rang out, “Potter — Weasley!” Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. “You will both be serving detentions this evening.”

“What’s our punishment, Professor?” said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

 “Polishing the trophy room with good old fashioned elbow grease like the Muggles,” said Professor Weasley.

Ron shrugged. “That doesn't seem quite so bad.”

“With Mr. Filch of course.”

Ron's eyes widened as he swallowed hard.Every student in the school loathed Argus Filch, the caretaker, for his strict and unforgiving demeanor. “Is anyone else available?”

“Afraid not,”Professor McGonagall was stern.”As for you Mr. Potter you will help Lockhart answer…fan mail of all things.”

“I think I would rather have Filch,” said Harry desperately.

“That is precisely why you'll be with Lockhart,” said Professor McGonagall, raising a brow. “And you were personally requested by Lockhart,” said with an almost eye-roll. “Eight o’clock sharp, boys, don't be late. I would rather not give you more detention.”

With heavy steps and downcast expressions, Harry and Ron made their way into the Great Hall, Hermione trailing behind them, her face a clear sign of her disapproval for their rule-breaking. 

After finishing dinner, Ron and Harry begrudgingly went to detention while Hermione eagerly pulled Kellah to the library. Kellah's fingers were practically twitching with the need to scribble in her diary. Although she claimed to Hermione that she needed solitude for studying, her true intention was to engage in a clandestine conversation through the enchanted diary. 

She grabbed a book titled Bewitching Your Wardrobe With a Snap, intrigued by the promise of magical fashion transformations. After briefly perusing the diary, she delicately tucked it into the very heart of the book. As she poured her thoughts onto the page, she recounted the day's events, sparing no detail about her encounter with Malfoy and the bittersweet memory of her first kiss. 

As she clutched it in her hand, she felt a sudden surge of panic and wanted to run. Just as she was about to write "I'm sorry," a stealthy figure crept up behind her, sending shivers down her spine. In a rush, she shut the book, the sudden movement causing a gust of air to brush against her face.

 "You stole my first kiss," said a voice she recognized as Malfoy's, his tone filled with accusation. "I'll have another," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Startled, a rush of fear followed Kellah's sudden jump as she turned to face Malfoy, desperately concealing the book and seeking refuge against a bookshelf. With a deceitful smile, she said, “Oh, it meant nothing at all.”

A smirk played across Malfoy's face, adding a touch of arrogance to his demeanor. "Really," he murmured, his touch lingering on her collarbone before his fingers trailed down to the empty space where her bosom should have been, retrieving a handkerchief instead. “If it means nothing, then what’s this?”

The sight of him tracing the edges of the delicate fabric against his face made her heart skip a beat. With half of his face hidden, he absentmindedly traced the exposed skin on his forearms where his sweater had been pushed up. Malfoy gripped it in his hand, leaning in to place a delicate kiss on the small, engraved initials. He lowered his hand slowly but kept the handkerchief tightly wrapped around his palms.

Malfoy's intense gaze met hers, his piercing gray eyes leaving her feeling exposed. It was almost eerie how he could accurately interpret her emotions as if he had a sixth sense for understanding others. As he pressed her against the bookshelf, she could feel the weight of the books pressing against her body. The unexpected shock made her lose grip, and the diary slipped through her fingers. Kellah desperately tried to push him off, but he overpowered her, pinning her hands against the bookshelf. Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the room. They found themselves surrounded by a small pile of books that had fallen nearby. Malfoy leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her neck. "I like you speechless," he said with a wink, leaving her stunned. 

Pressing a hand to her cheek, Kellah stifled a gasp of disbelief. As she picked up the diary, she could feel the pages' rough texture and the words' weight within.

Hermione had come. “Are you alright?” she said, picking up books, hovering them close to the bookshelf, and letting the magic of the library place them back.

“I’m alright. Let’s go,” Kellah said, clutching the diary behind her. 

Hermione gave her a weird stare. “Kellah, when did you put a scarf around your neck?”

As Kellah reached up to her neck, her fingertips brushed against the luxurious fabric of Malfoy's handkerchief. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the knot, before deciding to leave it tied.

Draco appeared in her dreams that night, and she could hear his voice whispering in her ear. Suddenly, she felt a mysterious man standing behind her, that was not Draco his breath tickling her ear. “Let me rip you, let me tear, you let me kill you.”

As Kellah awoke and made her way to the bathroom, she felt the gritty texture of dirt under her fingernails and noticed that the soles of her feet had turned black. She turned on the shower and, still in her nightgown, curled up in a fetal position, letting the warm water cascade over her trembling body. 

Chapter Text

Kellah was in the Great Hall, her fingers itching to open her diary and pour her thoughts onto the pages. She eagerly looked into her soup instead, expecting a delicious meal, but found something else entirely. Looking at the reflection, she caught sight of a boy with a charming face, his dark hair perfectly styled and his eyes full of depth. With each sip, she felt a pang of emptiness, realizing he had vanished instantly. Feeling groggy, she rubbed her eyes to wake herself up. She hadn't been getting the best sleep as of late.

Open it. Open it. Open it!

Kellah couldn’t take it anymore. She was opening that damn diary, but then she caught sight of Malfoy, his lips stained with the juice of a cherry, and couldn't look away. He took his time, savoring the moment as he dangled it over his tongue and then dropped it into his mouth with a deliberate slowness. Playfully licking his lips, he slowly sucked his fingers and locked eyes with Kellah. “Bet I can tie it into a knot,” he told his Slytherin gang.

Crabbe and Goyle greedily stuffed their mouths with a handful of juicy cherries. Theo Nott slyly grabbed one and winked at Daphne Greengrass. “I’ll play your little game as well.”

Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass exchanged mischievous glances before erupting into giggles. Millicent Bulstrode joined in the laughter, her chuckles trailing behind everyone else's. 

A student Kellah had never seen before rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with them. “I refuse to partake in this childish game.”

“But I like being childish, Blaise,” said Theo.

The boy named Blaise was impeccably impolite and had a strikingly dark complexion, his smooth Italian accent adding an exotic touch to his charm. Similar to Malfoy, his rude behavior was strangely appealing to her.

The sight of Crabbe and Goyle spitting out the untied stems made Kellah cringe in disgust. Disappointment flickered in their eyes as they locked gazes. Theo Nott teasingly stuck his tongue out at Daphne, effortlessly retrieving the stem with a finger flick. It was untied as well.

Retrieving the stem with a delicate finger, Malfoy smirked and tilted his head. It was tied. “I win,” he said, flicking it at Pansy.

"Now you've got the Mudblood cooties," Theo Nott’s laughter pierced through the air with a venomous edge.

Sneering, Blaise made his contempt clear. “Don't flick that anywhere near me. It's revolting.”

Pansy quickly rose from her seat and chased after Draco, who darted around the Slytherin table. “I’m gonna get you,” she yelled at him.

“You can try Pan,” said Malfoy.

Frustration boiled over, causing Pansy to stomp her foot with a resounding thud. “Don’t call me Pan.”

“Peter Pan,” said Theo Nott.

“Who in Merlin’s name is Peter bloody Pan,” said Blaise.

Watching them caused Kellah to let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. With a sympathetic look, Harry turned his attention to Kellah and soothingly rubbed her arm, trying to alleviate her distress. “Don’t worry, I’ll repay Malfoy by beating Slytherin at Quidditch. Proving he bought his way on the team instead of earning it.”

Kellah wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort her or himself. Her arm received a gentle nudge from Hermione, a silent message between them. “Ignore him,” she said without making a sound.

"Want me to kick the shit out of him?" Ron questioned, cracking his knuckles.

Remembering the Ron slug incident, Kellah's eyes widened in shock. “No, you have done enough. Last time, you had slugs coming out of your mouth.”

"That was the last time there won't be a wand this time," Ron declared.

"No, you won't," Hermione said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Harry sighed, his breath escaping as a heavy, tired exhale. “As much as I want that, I don’t want you in more detention.”

“I take my detention with pride,” said Ron. “It would be a badge of honor for slugging Malfoy.”

“That’s exactly right, Ron, slugs,” said Harry. 

With a roll of her eyes, Kellah made it clear how unimpressed she was. “It’s fine. I got something for them.”

Kellah searched her mind for the most disturbing nightmares, trying to summon the tears she desperately needed. Her mind shifted, and Kellah’s heart sank as she dwelled on the revelations the diary had unveiled about her life. Had the dairy caused the nightmares? Tears streamed down her face, leaving wet trails on her cheeks. It was such a spectacle that it stopped everyone in their tracks, including some Slytherins. Their laughter cut through the silence, leaving her feeling humiliated. Which helped with the fake crying, only it was actual tears now.

Hurrying over, Professor McGonagall's presence silenced the laughter. “Dear, what seems to be the problem?”

After Kellah's tears had stopped, she was still hiccuping, making it difficult for her to speak. “I kissed Malfoy, and he said I gave him the Mudblood cooties. Now they’re playing that game.”

“You kissed him willingly, oh dear.” Professor McGonagall's hand instinctively moved to her cheek, attempting to conceal her astonishment. “I also remember that dreadful game as a kid. Sad that it’s still around.”

Kellah had thought she came up with it, but apparently not. It did make her story more convincing. 

As McGonagall made her way towards Malfoy, Kellah noticed he had abandoned his wild chase after Pansy. The Professor’s finger extended towards the Slytherin gang, standing together with an air of superiority. “Ten points from Slytherin each for your foolish game of Mudblood cooties. That sort of behavior will not be tolerated at Hogwarts.”

Draco glared directly at Kellah and the rest of her friends. “We were doing no such thing, I assure you, Professor.”

“Don’t try to charm me, Mr. Malfoy. If your father is not capable of charming me, you will surely fail.” 

With that, she turned and went straight for the Gryffindor table. Now, it was really obvious Kellah had said something. Upon feeling the handkerchief against her neck, she had the sensation that it was constricting her airway, making it hard for her to take a breath. 

Following her gesture, McGonagall indicated for Hermione and Kellah to accompany her. Harry's expression turned sad as he looked at the girls, while Ron appeared to be quite pleased to see Hermione facing some trouble for a change. 

They trailed behind Professor McGonagall, their eyes darting around the dimly lit hallway of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower's first floor. Since her detention last year, she hadn't set foot in this place. Looking out from her office, she could see the Training Grounds spread out below, with whistles blowing and the thud of feet hitting the ground. The Ravenclaw team had begun their tryouts, and Cho Chang's crestfallen face revealed she had not been selected. Taking her eyes off the window, Kellah found a comfortable seat. 

"Why did you call us here and not Ron or Harry?" Kellah wondered aloud, her tone laced with intrigue.

Professor McGonagall removed her cat eyeglasses, revealing her piercing, green eyes. “Because you two are Muggleborn,” she said, gesturing to them," and you,” she pointed to Kellah, “kissed Malfoy, which is beyond my comprehension. Now, do you two know about the wizards and the wands?”

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion.“The what now?” 

“Oh yes, Muggle-born students. I mean, the birds and the bees.”

A rush of heat spread across Hermione's face, turning it a deep shade of red. Kellah's unease grew as she realized the direction things were heading. She had engaged in numerous passionate kisses but preferred to keep the details private. Well, mostly cheek stuff, except for Malfoy.

“Yes, my parents told me if I had sex before marriage, I would go to hell and that babies come from parents who love each other very much, but I think that’s a lie. My parents don’t seem to love each other at all.”

McGonagall slightly dabbed her eye as if trying to hide the hint of a tear, but Kellah remained skeptical. As Hermione held her hand, she felt a sense of safety and trust wash over her. “I’m sorry.”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. “That’s not entirely wrong. What about you, Granger?”

“I have read about it in books—science ones about reproduction. How the ovaries or eggs need to be fertilized, and only one sperm makes it sometimes two, which causes fraternal twins, or one egg splits, which causes identical twins. There was even a recent study that says the egg chooses the sperm.”

“Leave it to Hermione to make sex completely boring,” said Kellah.

Ignoring her completely, McGonagall carried on as if she didn't exist. “And how does fertilization occur?”

“The book didn’t explain that part,” said Hermione.

McGonagall let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Of course, it didn’t explain that bit. Well, the jest of it is a girl's and a boy’s nether regions come together. He releases his seed into the girl and causes a baby.” 

She said that as plain and scientific as Hermione had. Kellah was surprised that the Arithmancy teacher was Hermione’s favorite because of how McGonagall explained things. “And we don’t want that, at least not at school, and you’re far too young for that. But some people mature quicker than others.” She looked directly at Kellah. “If there are any more questions, ask Madam Pomfrey or if there is a baby. We have potions and elixirs of certain spells, just like with periods. Okay, now enough of this talk.”

Kellah raised her hand. A reluctant expression crossed McGonagall's face, hinting at her desire to avoid the question, yet she gestured for Kellah to proceed with a nod. “How does it feel when the nether regions come together?”

“It hurts,” McGonagall said quickly. “Now finish your breakfast and run along to class.”

Leaving the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, they walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione's hushed voice carried a sense of urgency as she whispered to Kellah. “I’m going to Madam Pomfrey to ask more questions.”

“I would be too embarrassed, and I think McGonagall told us enough you certainly did with that science explanation.”

Hermione made a trip to the nurse, and it wasn't until the first class that Kellah finally noticed her presence in the room. In Lockhart's class, Hermione's face contorted with sheer horror. “It was dreadful. I was instructed to tell you not until 16 to 18, and they will keep a close watch on you.”

Kellah was appalled she wouldn’t willingly do something that hurt, and McGonagall wouldn’t lie, so they had nothing to worry about. “I’m trying to keep things above the belt. I might not ever have sex, you don’t know,” she whispered. Ron perked up at the word sex. 

He threw a balled-up piece of paper at Hermione. Annoyed, she shot him a glare. “Hermione, you were born in September. That means your parents started their New Year with a bang.”

A faint chuckle escaped Harry's lips, but he immediately stifled it upon witnessing Hermione's reaction. He then gave Kellah a look she had never seen him give before, a mixture of intensity and intrigue that unsettled her yet sparked a strange curiosity within her. 

The next day, Kellah awoke horrified by her reflection - her skin appeared scaly, like a snake's. But when she closed her eyes and looked again, it had vanished. Kellah's appearance was disheveled, with wild hair and red-rimmed eyes. Her tired, pale-looking appearance hinted at the toll that recent events had taken on her well-being. People like her dark skinned were usually known for their radiant complexion, so it was concerning to see them looking ashy. If someone saw her, they might think she was the same vampire who had attended the school, silently slipping through the corridors unnoticed. 

The sunlight glinted off her hair, revealing its dullness and lack of shine. Running her fingers through her hair, she couldn't help but notice how stringy it felt, almost like she had a perm. After putting in the eye drops, the redness in her eyes faded, but a faint red ring remained around her iris. Determined to have flawless hair, applied a hair potion, but unfortunately, it didn't work as well as she had hoped. Either she had used it excessively, or her hair had become severely damaged. She would have to chop off all her hair. That was a black girl’s nightmare. She was not the big-chop kind of girl. 

In a hurry, Kellah grabbed a bucket hat, hoping to protect herself from gossipy students. She didn’t care what McGonagall said. It looked nice on the parts of her braids that weren’t near the roots. If her hair was this bad in braids, she could only imagine how bad it would be once she took her hair down. 

Making her way to breakfast, determined to refine her appearance by carefully tending to her baby hairs and smoothing her edges for imperfections. It had worked, but the moment the temperature rose, it would return to its lackluster appearance—the sheer number of products she had to use left her with a heavy sensation on her head. The smell was pleasant, a mix of flowers and freshly cut grass, though it was so strong that she decided to skip perfume for the day. 

Hermione came down and took out a book, flipping through its pages while she savored a bowl of warm porridge. The thought of eating didn't even cross Kellah's mind, as she was utterly devoid of appetite.

“That isn’t allowed,” Hermione said.

I don’t care ; she heard a voice say. “I don’t care,” Kellah repeated. 

“What’s not allowed?” said Ron, stabbing a fork into a piece of sausage before sitting.

“Her hat is against school regulation,” Hermione said.

“Leave it, Hermione,” said Harry, settling down beside Kellah. She couldn't help but notice the warmth radiating from her friend's body. 

“Yeah, I’m having a bad hair day,” said Kellah, tugging the hat down.

“Your hair looks fine.” After a brief peek underneath, Harry promptly pushed the hat back down, trying not to draw attention.

“I bet it’s worse than Hermione’s,” Ron smirked.

As Hermione touched her hair, a faint blush spread across her face. Ginny sat next to Kellah, feeling the gentle pressure of their shoulder against hers. “What are we talking about?”

“Hai—” Just as Ron was about to speak, Kellah interrupted him. “Halloween, and I want you and Hermione to be the Powerpuff Girls. I already have the costumes. Oh, and Ron and Harry, you can be the Rowdyruff Boys. You can even add Draco.”

Harry made a face, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Ugh, why Draco, I would rather not.”

“Because he’s blonde,” said Kellah.

“We could just put a wig on Neville,” said Ron.

With a huff, Hermione folded her arms, a determined look on her face. “We can’t. We’re going to the Death Day Party.”

Reluctantly, Harry asked, “Do we have to?”

“You promised,” she said to Harry.

"No way am I going to a party with dead people," Kellah exclaimed, picturing the frigid conditions and the absence of refreshments. 

Ginny eagerly volunteered. “I’ll take the costume and join Eloise Midgen for some trick or treating.” A warm smile spread across Ginny's face. “Maybe get friends that aren't my brothers.”

“And you chose the one with the bad acne. Now, I would rather you go with Loony Luna,” said Ron, shaking his head.

“Ronald,” Hermione said, “Both of them are quite nice.”

“Then why don't I ever see you with them?” asked Ron.

“Because I'm always with you, Harry, and Kellah.”

He shoved loads of bacon in his mouth while saying, “Likely excuse.”

“Right then… I'll go on my own, shall I?” said Kellah interrupting their argument.

A playful chuckle escaped Harry. “That’s the most words you ever said before me, Ginny.”

Ginny blushed, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red, and she sat there, her mouth open but no words came out. “And now she won’t say another word,” said Ron.

Under the table, Ginny discreetly kicked Ron, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess she doesn’t need words.” Speaking in a low voice, Ron rubbed his legs as he spoke. 

Hermione's gaze fixated on Kellah, studying every line on her face. “So you’re set on trick or treating. Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“I won’t deny myself the sugar,” Kellah said.

“You’ll rot your teeth,” said Hermione.

“Then I’ll go to your parents.”

***

Later that afternoon Lockhart wrapped his arms around Ginny, comforting her as she sobbed, and he planted a tender kiss on her forehead before gently urging her to leave. She then ran up to Kellah, tears streaming down her face. Ginny arrived at Kellah's side, sobbing uncontrollably, seeking solace in a heartfelt hug. “What’s wrong?” 

She turned to her friend and confided. “Some kids are picking on me.”

“Want me to beat them up?” she asked, clenching her fist.

“No, I already did,” Ginny said, sniffling, exhausted from crying as she wiped the snot from her nose and rubbed her weary eyes.

Ginny looked so sad that Kellah could see tears glistening in her eyes. She desperately wanted to do anything to bring a smile back to Ginny's face.”Want to practice Quidditch on my new brooms?”

“That would be wicked. My brothers never let me fly.” Ginny's energy levels skyrocketed in a split second.

“Well, I’m not your brothers. Let’s go,” Kellah said, dragging her to the Training Grounds.

“Let’s go to the Quidditch pitch. Way more room and more privacy.”

“We could get in trouble.” A burst of laughter escaped Kellah as she was in a humorous situation. She sounded like Hermione. “Yeah, nevermind let's go.”

They walked down the cobblestone path, feeling the smooth stones beneath their feet as they made their way to the Training Grounds. Kellah arrived at a shed featuring stunning stained glass windows. As she opened the door, a hidden entrance was revealed, leading to a secret room brimming with various types of equipment. She took out two brooms, their handles smooth and polished from her care. 

Stepping outside, she was taken aback by Dean deftly spray-painting a mesmerizing mural on a wall portraying a lion feasting on a snake. As Seamus held the paint canister, the art on the wall danced with emotion. The lion let out a mighty roar, causing Seamus to freeze in fear. In his trembling hands, he held a paint canister that had been frozen solid. Suddenly, the canister slipped from his grasp and crashed onto the ground, shattering into countless pieces.

As Professor Sinistra was on her way, Kellah rushed Ginny to move faster. Kellah felt the weight of the broom in her hand, then gave it to Ginny as the bristles tickled her hand. A look of wonder filled Ginny's face as she gently stroked the grain of the wood, unable to contain her fascination. It was a mishmash of random items hastily put together. Welded on bike handles over the broom handles, then foot handles before the broom bristles. The broom was a beautiful sight, with each bristle made from a different color of broom corn, creating a rainbow effect with a few delicate unicorn hairs interspersed.

“I wanted to make something girls would like as well. The brooms are awfully masculine.”

“Probably so guys can say hop on. I got a broom with a view," Ginny laughed as she soared above the treetops, taking in the breathtaking scenery. “ Now come on, I’ll show you some moves,” she yelled through the breeze.

Racing towards the Quidditch Pitch, Kellah struggled to keep up with Ginny's agile movements in the air. That girl was the best flier Kellah had ever seen. Although she hadn't seen many, she might have been better than Harry.

Inside the Quidditch Pitch was different. The uncut grass reached up to her ankles, indicating that no game was scheduled anytime soon. Even though time had passed, the faint outlines of chalk were still visible, a reminder of what was to come. Towards the far end, a stage was positioned for the referee, providing a clear view of the entire area. The view from below-made everything appear larger than life. Her gaze had permanently been fixed downwards, focused on Harry or anyone else playing, never bothering to look up and take in her surroundings. Oh, who was she kidding? Most people went to Harry’s game, and the others were just extras. 

Ginny however was no extra. True to her word, she wasted no time showing Kellah some impressive moves. Whenever Kellah reached a goal, she was met with Ginny's impenetrable defense. As good a Keeper as Oliver Wood. And even better, Chaser, too. It seemed impossible for Kellah to block any throws as they effortlessly sailed past her defenses. 

Outside, a handful of people were engrossed in their practice, oblivious to their presence. It was open to students except during practice for Quidditch teams who didn't want to use the Training Grounds. Oliver Wood made it seem like otherwise because they were the only Gryffindors there.

Kellah landed on the podium. “And the winner, Ginny Weasley.” She made fake crowd cheering noises.“I thought your brothers didn’t let you fly,” she said, jumping from the stage.

“Yeah, I sneak and do it. Plus, all of them were at school last year. Left plenty of time to practice.”

“You should be on the Quidditch team. Too bad first years don’t make the team unless you’re Harry or Dumbledore.”

“One day,” Ginny playfully pushed Kellah. “I’ll be soaring through the skies like a Holly Harpie.”

Kellah pinched Ginny’s cheeks. “Okay, just don’t mess up your face.”

Ginny's cheeks had turned rosy. “That’s what magic is for,” she said, slapping away Kellah’s hands. “I don’t want to wind up like Ludo Bagman.”

“Who’s Ludo Bagman.”

“Former Beater for the National English Quidditch Team and current commentator. He has a smashed nose.” Ginny did a fake hand thrust to her nose. “They fixed it with magic.” She waved her hand in a wand motion. “But for a while, he kept it crooked like that and said it would be broken again anyway until he retired. Anyway, how did you get these broom?”

Kellah tapped the broom on the ground a little. “Made them from the stolen Whomping Willow branches that broke.”

“Uh, you sound like Neville in Herbology.”

“You don’t have to practice on my broom, you know,” Kellah said, snatching the broom out of Ginny’s hands.

Ginny snatched it back. “Oh, I know.”

The wind rushed through Kellah's hair as she soared above, but her joy quickly turned to anguish when she spotted Lockhart walking hand in hand with a blonde girl. “I'm leaving early!”

“I'll put the broom up for you,” Ginny yelled halfway across the field.

Kellah quickly landed her broom and ran to where she had spotted them when she saw a student, a seventh-year Slytherin, sitting on Lockhart’s lap. The girl planted a soft kiss on his lips. She reluctantly took a step back and started walking away.

Against her better judgment, Kellah flew up to her bedroom window and carefully opened it, the sound of the latch clicking in the twilight. No one was there. After setting down her broom, she went to the common room, where she sat beside Colin and affectionately brushed his hair aside. “Can I borrow your camera?” 

She noticed that he hardly looked her in the eye, his attention seemingly elsewhere. “Sure, for Harry’s autograph.” 

“Done.” They shook on it.

Employing the spell of Reductio, Kellah successfully reduced the camera's size, turning it into a tiny, pocket-sized device.

Then, all she had to do was wait. And wait, she did. It was a long week of following Lockhart. Her patience paid off when Lockhart made a mistake during a detention, just as she had hoped.

The door to Lockhart's room had a small gap, perfectly sized for her camera to squeeze in. As he undressed the blonde, a pile of discarded clothes accumulated on the ground. “Only you can do this to me,” he said. As he leaned in closer, his lips brushed against her neck. “On your knees.”

She obeyed and then spent a considerable amount of time pleasuring him with her mouth. Her knees had to hurt, and she looked like she kept gagging. The sight was so captivating that Kellah felt compelled to snap countless pictures. There was a noticeable warmth coming from the area between her thighs. 

McGonagall said it hurt the girl was screaming a lot, but she didn't seem in pain. The blonde dropped to her hands and knees, assuming a dog-like position. He was furiously jumping on her. As they grappled with each other, the absence of clothing heightened the intensity of their naked wrestling match. Both breathed heavily, their bodies pressed tightly together, and sweat covered their skin. 

The room had an unusual smell, and it was intense. The putrid smell was enough to make her want to hurl. Lockhart's actions became increasingly forceful as he pushed his pelvis into her buttocks until he eventually grew exhausted, slumping over. Kellah guessed they were done playing. 

Armed with her camera, she captured several incriminating photos of him. Just as she was about to leave, he cast a spell on the girl. It was Obliviate. Kellah just wanted to protect Ginny but this was much bigger now.

Once they finished, Kellah hurriedly made her way to the bathroom. She went in there because she felt a damp sensation down there. The thought crossed her mind - could it be her period starting? She felt a slight cramp and wondered though it felt good. But it was a sticky, white substance that clung to her fingers. She wiped it away. 

Knowing she had to develop the photos Kellah rushed to the Magical Photography room.As Kellah entered the dark room, a musty smell lingered in the air, making her nose wrinkle it was chemicals. The room, painted in a crisp white, showcased Colin's finished pictures in all their glory. Kellah organized them in a nice heap in his portfolio book, making it easy for him to find them later. 

Kellah began the potion for the camera, then did a movement spell for the pictures as she waved her wand over it. On the table, there were three options: a developer, a stop bath, and a beaker of water. Carefully, she placed each item on its tray. Kellah retrieved the negatives from the camera, eager to utilize every one of them. Delicately, she slid the photographs into the negative carrier, ensuring they were aligned correctly. Using the puffer brush, she meticulously cleared the surface, leaving no trace of dust behind. As she placed the carrier into the enlarger, a soft click resonated in the darkroom, signifying the start of her artistic process. Her eyes were drawn to the image on the easel, its colors and details catching her attention. The warmth returned to her thighs, intensifying the discomfort. With a steady hand, she lowered it and brought the object into focus. Then, she adjusted the focus finder to make the image sharp. Kellah carefully hand-picked a Multi-Grade 2 filter as it was the most suitable for most pictures. 

Finally, she carefully placed the photography paper on the easel, ready to capture the image. Then, she took five consecutive five-second exposures. With a gentle motion, she inserted it into the developer, the room filling with the distinct scent of chemicals. Once the image appeared, she felt a slight wetness down there but brushed it off. After waiting sixty seconds, she carefully placed it in the stop bath using the spell Windgarium Leviosa. After ten seconds in, she could already see the intensity of the photo. Thirty seconds in the fixing, she was fully immersed in its effects. Using the Aguamenti spell, she drenched it with a stream of cool, refreshing water. 

As she examined the picture, she noticed  it was composed of five sections, each growing progressively darker in tone. After changing the fixer water, she set the picture exposure to 15 seconds, wanting to capture the perfect shot. Finally, she carefully hung all the photos on the wall, creating a gallery of debauchery. 

She strained her eyes to see and realized that blonde girl in front of her differed completely from the one she had encountered earlier. Out of all the options, this one belonged to the loyal and hardworking house of Hufflepuff. Hard to tell with clothes on the floor and the same hair of blonde curls. He was trying to get one girl from every house. Well, Kellah would make sure he collected her as the Gryffindor victim.

Chapter Text

It was the beginning of October, and the sight of people wearing masks and clutching tissues showed that sickness was spreading. Unfortunately, Ginny was in such a poor condition that she had to resort to taking a Pepper-up potion, which had the unintended consequence of her head appearing engulfed in flames. All her brothers, with a special mention to Percy, had been persistently bothering her to take it. To avoid unwanted attention because of her worn-out appearance, Kellah resorted to taking the Pepperup potion to appear healthier and more vibrant. It didn’t work because she didn’t have a cold. She didn’t know what she had.

Recognizing this Ague season as a unique chance, Kellah eagerly embraced the opportunity to study the dormant new plants, getting a glimpse of their preparations for fall and collecting samples.

 At the Training Ground Entrance, Kellah pressed against a stained glass window that depicted the intricate details of Hogwarts Crest. Right there, in that very place, her brooms were waiting. Among the four, she chose the most exceptional one without hesitation. The broom had a unique golden hue because she crafted it from Blonde Hungarian Broomcorn. 

She slammed the door shut, and her eyes widened as she saw Dean holding a radiant orb. In a split second, it slipped from his grasp and careened wildly, bouncing off the room's walls. He pushed her out of the way, and she could feel the rush of wind as the orb whizzed past her head. Breathing heavily, they lay there, their bodies pressed together, Dean’s weight on top of her. Rising from on top of her, he reached out his hand, a gesture of kindness. As he pulled her towards him, she saw the intensity in his eyes, their faces almost touching.

Their laughter mingled together, creating a symphony of happiness that resonated in the room. “What are you doing here hiding?”

“Just tinkering, seeing if I can harness lightning. And you,” he smirked, and a single dimple appeared.

As she reached for her broom, she felt the weight of it in her hand, ready to demonstrate its power. “Trying to make a broom.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes, but I’m unsure which broom handle and corn I should use.”

“Can I have a closer look?” He said, hand stretched out. 

He grabbed the broom and hovered a hand over it. Down the shaft, his fingers glided smoothly until they reached the soft bristles. “It leans to the right; it needs the proper directional spell. And you should use wood from bow truckles for broom handles, the same as wands. Your Broomcorn is alright, though.” Dean brandished his wand, causing the broom to emit a radiant glow. “It’s level now.”

Kellah placed a hand on her hip. “How did you know? Ginny flew one of my brooms, and it was alright.”

“Hate to say it, mate, but the Weasleys can fly on anything.” In one fluid motion, he lifted his hand, mimicking the flight of a broom. “And I don’t know how I figured it out. Magic sort of whispers to me. Is that weird?”

“It’s just a rare gift like parseltongue. Salazar Slytherin had that.”

“Do you have a rare gift?” he asked. Gesturing with his hand, he patted a seat next to him, and she willingly leaned into his comforting presence.

“Actually, I do. I’m a Seer. I wasn’t going to tell anyone you’re the first to know.”

As their fingers intertwined, a rush of warmth spread through her hand. “Well, we can talk about it together,” he smiled so wide she could see both dimples. He never seemed to smile enough, but he always did for her. 

Leaning closer, it felt as if this would be her second-ever kiss with a boy until the sudden intrusion of Oliver Wood bursting through the door shattered the moment.

“Out, you are not on the Quidditch Team,”Oliver yelled.

With a gentle thud, Kellah placed her broom in the corner, and then she took off running, the sound of her breath quick and excited, as she watched Dean go in the opposite direction.

They split up, and she found herself sprinting towards the Greenhouse, where she could hear the faint sound of water trickling from the nearby fountain. After spending so much time carefully cutting off the branches from the manzanita tree she had planted. Knowing additional spells would greatly expedite making brooms. It dawned on her that she must gain the skill to cast spells that were not only enjoyable but also served a purpose. Knowing how to shoot fireworks was fun but not practical in a fight. 

Outside the Greenhouse with the tree in hand, she saw something. All alone, Lockhart stood there, a solitary figure in the distance. Kellah dropped the manzanita branch, causing a rustling sound as it hit the ground. It wasn’t bowtruckle wood anyway. 

Her gaze fixed on her chest, she waved her wand and uttered the spell Engorgio, causing her chest to swell in size instantly. As she followed Lockhart to his room, she could hear the soft creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. As she reached the midpoint, she knew he had caught sight of her. Leaning against the doorway. He created a physical barrier that prevented her from leaving. “Come for an autograph.”

Do it just like I told you

Kellah nodded to herself, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Carefully moving his arm, she went to his desk and sat down. As she crossed her legs, a glimpse of her underwear became visible. A sea of white greeted his eyes, creating a sense of purity. “I think I need extra help with my lesson.”

Curiosity sparked a smile as he approached to get a better view of her, swinging her legs against the desk. “Surely not you. You’re so mature for your age. You are top of the class besides Hermione.”

Sensing Lockhart’s gaze, Kellah uncrossed her legs and stretched them out, ensuring he had an unobstructed view. “Well, I want to be on top, don’t you?” His eyes darted elsewhere, but a smile betrayed his true emotions. “Always, maybe — next week.”

After leaving she used Reducio, she shrunk her breast and made her way to the forest's edge. There, she discovered a tree teeming with bowtruckles, prompting her to gather the entire harvest. With every swing of her axe, the bowtruckles grew more enraged, their tiny cries growing louder. As she chanted the words of the fast-growing spell, the surrounding area burst into a riot of colors as flowers bloomed and vines shot up toward the sky. 

After uttering the incantation for a shrinking spell, she watched as the tree magically shrank in size, allowing her to place it in her purse. Her hands brushed against the soft leaves of scurvy grass, the fragrant lovage, and the delicate petals of sneezewort as she gathered the ingredients for her Confusing Concoction. Surprisingly, the potion was not that hard to make - it was more of a moderate-level challenge, which felt like an effortless task for her. Although a Buffledement Draught might be a better solution, the time needed to brew it was simply too long. Besides, she needed a hint of bewilderment, not reckless stunts.

After an hour of brewing she entered the entrance hall, greeted by Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were waiting for her.

“Where have you been? We were worried sick,” Hermione confessed, her voice trembling with fear.

“I was gardening all day,” Kellah sighed, her hands covered in dirt and her clothes stained with sweat. 

“It looks like it,” said Harry, nodding as he examined the dirt under her nails.

“ Scourgify ,” said Hermione.

After that, Hermione cleaned Kellah and the magic scrubbed her skin until it was glowing. “We said we would try out for the chess tournament that’s today,” said Ron, his tone seething with irritation. “You know that thing I have been going on about since the first day of school?”

“Damn, I should have worn something more stylish,” Kellah muttered.

“Kellah, don’t ruin this for me. I don’t ask for much,” Ron said, his voice tinged with weariness.

There was more she wanted to add, like how Ron had wanted to join since the second day of school because he had missed the announcements on the first day, but Harry silently disapproved with a shake of his head. So she said nothing.

Upon entering the tryouts, a bustling crowd of eager participants greeted them. They organized and scheduled the tryouts for the tournament to take place in Classroom 1A. It was right next to classroom 1B, which was Professor McGonagall’s room for the Transfiguration class.

 Stepping into the room, her eyes were immediately drawn to the large map of Hogwarts on the wall and the neatly organized bookshelf beside it. Among all the books, Kellah picked up just one. Enchantment: Awakening the Tools of Life.Once she had it in her hands, she observed that the book, which had been on the shelf, was blue in color. 

Percy cleared his throat to grab her attention, and in response, she carefully placed the book back on the shelf. “You will all be competing for a chance to go against several schools in the Walter Aragon Chess Competition.” 

As he extended his hand towards the world map, something magical happened. The map lit up eleven distinct areas, showcasing names and the enchanting sight of floating castles. “Such as Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Mahoutokoro. Now, please take your seats. The winner will go up against me as captain of this club.” Percy puffed out his chest. “I’m not likely to lose, but the remaining five under will be on the team.”

“You’re going down, brother,” Ron warned softly.

Standing confidently before everyone, Ema said, “Begin.”

Harry came behind them. “I’m sitting this one out.”

Ron turned around and panicked. “Why we’re supposed to do this together as mates?”

“It will interfere with Quidditch practice, and Wood would kill me if something happens after we lost the Quidditch Cup because of me last year.”

“But I need you,” Ron pleaded.

“Have you ever lost a game of chess?” Harry asked him.

“No, never.”

“And you shan’t go on, mate,” said Harry.

Kellah and Harry shared a heartfelt moment as she enveloped him in a warm and comforting embrace. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Draco’s intense glare piercing through her, but she ignored it. “You’re a good friend, Harry.”

“Go before you get disqualified,” said Harry.

Spotting the only available seat, Kellah hurriedly approached it, desperate to claim it as her own. As she looked across, she couldn’t believe her luck - there he was, Cedric Diggory himself, the one and only. Year after year, she couldn’t deny that he was becoming even more adorable in her eyes. This was the first time she ever had the chance to examine him up close and personal, taking in every detail of his features. His wind-blown dark brown hair had a natural, yet neatly tousled, look. Cedric’s eyes were a mesmerizing shade of bright grey, so intense that it was difficult to maintain eye contact with him without feeling entranced. His charm was accentuated by the way his jawline was defined, especially when he accompanied it with his nervous smile. The table and chair were not a good match for his size, as his knees were in constant contact with the table because the chair being too small. The chess pieces seemed to be in a state of fury as they flailed their detachable parts at him. Overwhelmed with admiration, she couldn’t help but feel star-struck by the sheer beauty before her. Her attempt to say hello was thwarted as her voice got stuck in her throat, leaving her unable to utter a word.

As he extended his hand, Kellah’s palms grew clammy with nerves as she shook it. His hands felt rough and calloused, starkly contrasting Draco’s soft touch. “Cedric Diggory, you must be Kellah Onai Dellarose ?”

As she tucked a braid behind her ear, a warm smile graced her face. “You know my name.”

“Of course I do, and I’ll go easy on you since you’re a kid.”

Kellah shoved those feelings so far down they were in the pits of hell. “You’re a kid yourself, and I won’t be going easy on you.”

Cedric’s eyes widened, and he nervously flashed a smile. “Sorry, I will give a good show and treat you like a proper opponent.” 

The practice chess sessions with Ron, Hermione, and Harry bore fruit as she skillfully outmaneuvered her opponents. And all those times, Hermione forced her to read chess books. She didn’t even need to resort to Confundus to manipulate him. But under her breath, she muttered a spell towards Roger Davies, who was engaged in a match against Dean. 

Cedric didn't seem to notice he was too far engrossed in making his next move. For she had surrounded his pieces and they could only move at her predetermined positions.

It was a shame female players were a rare sight in the tryout. Even more of a reason for Kellah to whisper the Confundus Charm. The air swarmed with confusion as every upperclassmen within range became disoriented. 

She even took a break to stretch her legs and give Cedric more time to think. An opportunity to spill the Confusing Concoction mixed with Fatiguing Infusion. It made a few of them sweaty, as if sick, and she was grateful for it. Was it wrong? Yes, would she be on a team of people she didn’t like? No way in hell. 

As the pieces on the chessboard lay in disarray, she stood triumphantly, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The room fell silent, and all eyes were on her as she returned to Cedric, her opponent, with an unwavering determination etched in her face.

With a confident yet subtle smile, she initiated her ultimate move, unleashing the full force of the Queen’s Gambit. The pawn, meticulously transformed into a mighty queen through her shrewd manipulation, became the linchpin of her strategy.

With swift and calculated precision, she advanced her queen, exploiting the weaknesses in Cedric’s defense. Like a predator stalking its prey, she cornered his king, leaving him no escape. In a single, decisive maneuver, she captured his king, sealing her victory with an air of mastery.

The room erupted with applause and awe as spectators marveled at her strategic brilliance. She had not noticed her captive audience.

Cedric, though defeated, could not help but acknowledge her skill and tenacity. It was a game that would be remembered, a testament to her unwavering determination and the power of her intellect.

She smiled, the weight of her victory settling upon her. It was not just a game won but a statement made. In that moment, she had proven herself a force to be reckoned with, a formidable player in the world of chess.

As she collected her pieces and prepared for her next challenge, she knew this victory would fuel her drive to conquer even greater opponents. 

Cedric’s eyes scanned the board, his hand instinctively reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair. “Dad will not like this.”

Kellah shook his hand firmly, feeling the calluses and roughness of his palm. “You were good, but I was better.”

“I’m not really good. Everyone suggested I join, so I did,” he said, tipping his king over. The king squirmed angrily, shouting profanities at him.

Kellah stood with her chest forward trying to lean casually against the desk.“Cedric, you’re good at everything.”

“And a master of none.”

Her queen piece hopped to the edge of the table. “Well he's no sore loser.”

Cedric walked to the corner, where he could better view the rest of the games unfolding. Kellah was under his constant surveillance as he kept a watchful eye on her. The air was charged with tension, and she could feel it prickling her skin, but when she looked at him, he evaded her eyes.

From a book, she had learned the move that finished Cedric practicing it over and over until she perfected it, thanks to Hermione. In the world of chess books, the most captivating ones were about wizard’s chess, where she could learn valuable lessons from pieces that attacked and sometimes even talked.

Her admiration for Nona Gaprindashvili, the first woman awarded GrandMaster, waned as she was secretly engrossed with the world of Quidditch. Then she would switch to her other role model, Erika Rath, a member of the Dragon Club with Charlie Weasley, whom she briefly encountered last year. Being a Beater for the Holly Harpies, an all-girls Quidditch team from Wales, she brought her passion and talent to every match.

Kellah knew she couldn’t do chess forever. That was Ron’s thing; she was just here for moral support. Which he needed because he was so nervous he looked like he might puke some more slugs.

Conveniently, all the second years were doing well. It was cheating, but nothing Hermione wouldn’t do, and with Ron on the team, they couldn’t lose. 

The scene took on a sinister tone as coughing fits happened around them and individuals started losing consciousness, a clear sign of an illness spreading, triggering a mob-like response. Wizards proved to be no more difficult to deceive than Muggles. 

As Kellah turned, she was taken aback by the unexpected sight of Draco still competing in the tournament. Dean was there, too. To expedite the process, they resorted to playing blitz five-minute games. The winner would ultimately be decided by whoever held the advantage when the end was near. Ron never gave his opponent the chance to catch their breath. Among the few, he possessed the skill to checkmate within the time limit.

In the end, it was a showdown between Percy and Ron. They agreed to make things more exciting by adding a time limit of thirty minutes, turning the chess game into a rapid-style battle. 

Percy moved a piece confidently, wearing a smug grin. “Sorry, baby brother, but I shall be victorious.”

“Ron, take him down!” Fred and George exclaimed. It was a packed room. The fact that a second-year student made it this far against a sixth-year student surprised everyone. 

Kellah looked over at Fred and George. “When did you two get here?”

“Just now,” said Fred.

“Wouldn’t miss him taking down Pinhead for the world,” said George.

Percy’s face contorted with a mix of frustration and disbelief. The crowd, captivated by the intense chess match unfolding before them, held their breath in anticipation. 

“Get ready to finally lose something,”Ron’s words hung in the air, shattering the silence that had enveloped the scene.

Percy, known for his systematic and logical approach to everything he did, was taken aback by Ron’s audacious claim. His mind raced, desperately seeking a countermove that would prove Ron wrong. But as the seconds ticked by, Percy realized he had indeed become trapped in a web of his own rigidity.

The onlookers, now fully engaged in the battle of wits, watched Percy’s face turn red like a tomato. The weight of Ron’s words seemed to echo in his mind, mocking his lack of creativity. It was a harsh truth that Percy had been avoiding, but now it stared him in the face with undeniable clarity.

Ron, on the other hand, wore a mischievous grin. He had always been the one to think outside the box to approach challenges with a fearless imagination. His bold move had caught Percy off guard, exposing a flaw in his opponent’s approach. It was a moment of triumph that Ron relished the opportunity to showcase his unconventional thinking.

As the crowd murmured in awe and admiration, Percy’s frustration turned into determination. He refused to let his lack of imagination define him any longer. With newfound resolve, he studied the chessboard, searching for a glimmer of inspiration that would turn the tables in his favor.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as the two adversaries locked eyes, one driven by analytical prowess, the other fueled by boundless imagination. The chessboard became a battleground, each move a declaration of their unique strengths.

At that moment, it became clear that this was not just a chess match; it was a battle of perspectives, a clash of minds. The crowd, now fully invested in the unfolding drama, held their collective breath, waiting for the next move that would determine the victor.

The deathly hush was shattered once again as Percy’s voice broke through the silence. “Your imagination may have caught me off guard, Ron, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he declared, a newfound glimmer of creativity shining in his eyes.

And so, the battle continued, each player pushing the boundaries of their intellect and imagination. The crowd watched in awe as the chessboard transformed into a canvas for their extraordinary duel, a testament to the power of both logic and imagination.

In the end, it wasn’t just a game of chess that captivated the crowd. It was the realization that in life, like on the chessboard, the fusion of imagination and logic can lead to remarkable feats of brilliance. 

"See, Percy, your problem is that you lack imagination, checkmate."

As the final move was made, the crowd erupted into applause, celebrating the triumph of Ron, who had proven that true strength lies in embracing the power of both mind and imagination.

Fred and George lifted Ron off the ground. “Everyone salute your new captain,” shouted Fred.

“Bow down to his superior intellect,” said George.

Jordan Lee’s shout pierced the cheers, catching everyone’s attention. “A win for him is a loss for Percy.”

The volume of the screams intensified as everyone reacted even more enthusiastically. They really didn’t like Percy; even Ema cheered with them.

Accompanied by Sinistra from next door, McGonagall arrived, and Percy passed her a parchment. As the twins relinquished their hold on Ron, he teetered on the edge of falling. The students in the classroom quickly moved to the sides, parting like the Red Sea to make way for her.

 Behind a sleek, modern podium, both teachers stood side by side at the front of the classroom, ready to engage their students. As Professor McGonagall read, the words on the page. “Captain Ronald Weasley. Co-Captains Hermione Granger and Kellah Onai Dellarose.” She stopped. “Typical. It’s you three, and no Harry Potter this time.” McGonagall adjusted her glasses. “Ah, the others are Padma Patil, Dean Thomas, and Draco Malfoy. All second years, how wonderful. Were all the upperclassmen sick?”

“Actually, some of them are Professor,” said Percy.

With the parchment now sealed shut, Sinistra finally spoke up. “All sick students, go to Madam Pomfrey for Pepperup Potion. The first meeting is tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

They stood there talking for a moment. Sinistra held her wand to her throat. “I said dismissed,” her voice boomed.

They all left the deserted classroom and headed towards dinner. Kellah had lost sight of her friends in the crowd.

Her eyes landed on Draco, who seemed to have spent an excessive amount of time with Pansy ever since Kellah had caused him to get detention. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle, Draco, Blaise, and Theo appeared to be equals. Their faces would always turn sullen in his presence. Daphne and Pansy doubled over, their laughter contagious as Draco’s words brought them joy. Watching the fun, Millicent Bulstrode took in the sights and sounds of the lively scene near Crabbe and Goyle. 

Adjusting the handkerchief, Kellah repurposed it as a makeshift hair tie. Suddenly, she bumped into Pansy, who was blocking the corridor. In the commotion, she grabbed hold of a black, frizzy hair and pulled it out. 

“Ow,” Pansy shrieked, “watch it, you clumsy Mudblood.”

As Kellah prepared to continue walking, she suddenly changed her mind, tilting her head and breaking into a smile. “You watch it. You inbred future mother of a Squib.”

Speech escaped Pansy as she stood there, awestruck by what she witnessed. With no restraint, Theo burst into laughter, his whole body shaking with amusement. Anger welled up inside Pansy, causing her face to redden, and she fixed a piercing glare on Malfoy.

 “I’ll get her,” Draco smirked.

Kellah dashed around the corner, her hurried footsteps unheard in the crowded corridor. Kellah was swimming upstream while the crowd tried to take her to the Great Hall. Thanks to being so small she found a small nook with enough space to carefully preserve a piece of Pansy’s essence by placing her hair in a tiny vial. 

Taking a brief pause, she finally left the nook, unaware that Draco was waiting outside, causing them to come face to face as the crowd disappeared.

Kellah ran into an empty classroom but Draco forced his way in before she could lock it.

He approached her with slow deliberate movements. “I fancy you but can’t let you get away with quite so much,” he said, holding her chin in his hand and making her look up at him.

Playfully, she leaned in and quickly licked his lip, leaving a tingling sensation. After a brief pause, Draco leaned in, his lips briefly brushing against hers. As she bit his lip, a hint of blood mixed with the taste of their forbidden passion before she left. Turning to look behind her, her eyes focused on the sight of a tiny smear of blood on his lip as the door closed.

Draco had feelings for her, but he refused to acknowledge her publicly, leaving her no choice but to disguise herself as Pansy for Halloween. She knew she would be alone in this adventure, as her so-called friends were nowhere to be seen and would not approve, especially Hermione. 

The full moon would approach soon, she felt the weight of the ticking clock, knowing she had just one month to complete her mission. The timing couldn’t have been better, as if the universe had aligned to create this moment. Though the Polyjuice potion was advanced and possibly illegal, her brilliance would allow her to make it. For Draco’s sake, she would push herself to the limit. You wouldn’t have to go through the trouble for me.

“Are you who I think you are?” she said out loud, then regretted it. People stared. 

“Yeah, the man of your dreams,” Theo Nott said. Ignoring him completely, Kellah focused solely on the voice, hanging on every word.

You know who it is. Open the book.

From the concealed spot in her brassiere she snatched the book and was amazed when it immediately sprung to life, writing on its own.

As she wrote it a sharp sting shot through her finger, and crimson droplets stained the page, gradually seeping into the fibers.

That night in Kellah’s dream, bizarre and unsettling images danced through her mind. As she made her way to Hagrid’s hut, she could feel the cool earth beneath her bare soles, grounding her with each step. On her way, she saw the pumpkins Hagrid had been nurturing for Halloween, their round shapes scattered across the field. Some were tiny, easily dwarfing her head, while others were no larger than a fully grown adult. 

Entering the chicken coop, she could hear the soft rustling of straw and the contented clucks of the hens. In the silence of the night, she could see them all slumbering soundly. Making her way to the head of the coop, she scooped up the rooster and felt its feathers tickle her skin. The bird cooed in delight under her touch, but its joy was short-lived as she swiftly ended its life by snapping its neck. The bird’s body continued to writhe and flop around, disconnected from its head, for a full minute before finally coming to a halt. She cautiously approached the Forbidden Forest, the scent of damp earth and moss filling her nostrils, before tossing the lifeless bird over the fence. 

Chapter Text

Kellah spat out a tuft of feathers, feeling the prickly texture against her tongue. When she opened her eyes, she noticed the dirt on her feet and under her covers and felt the sticky residue of fluxweed on her hands. The silence in the dormitory showed her roommates were still deep in slumber. In a rush, she snatched the first outfit she could find and dashed towards the girls’ bathroom, conveniently located across the hall from their dorm. No one was in there. Eager to remove the dirt, she took a quick shower, enjoying the refreshing sensation of the water against her skin. Her skin felt raw as if she had vigorously rubbed it against sandpaper. As she styled her hair in the mirror, a loose braid slipped out of her grasp. 

Sighing, she accepted the fact that she would have to address the loose strand of hair, dismissing it as a minor inconvenience. Upon feeling her scalp, she was surprised to discover that her hair seemed to be missing from the roots. Kellah inspected the braid again, running her fingers over the intricate twists and turns. Her real hair was in there as well. Suppressing her urge to panic, she exhaled slowly and quickly adjusted her braids into a ponytail, hiding the bald spot. Now, she was ready to start the day and ruin Lockhart’s.

Once again, she couldn’t resist another visit to Lockhart, so off she went. He held Ginny tightly, offering her a soft tissue to dry her tears. Lockhart leaned in and gently pressed his lips against her cheek. 

The time pressure weighed heavily on Kellah as she worried about Ginny. With determined steps, Kellah made her way toward the girl, a sense of urgency in her eyes. “What were you talking to Lockhart about?”

Looking back at him dreamily, Ginny revealed. “Oh, he wanted to give me extra lessons so kids don’t tease me as much.” 

“You could ask me or Hermione.”

“Yeah, but it’s Lockhart. He knows loads more, and he’s the Professor.”

Kellah suppressed a laugh. “I refuse to call that man professor.”

Ginny pursed her lips. “Well, my lesson is next week.”

The thought crossed Kellah’s mind that there was no better time than today to get this fixed once and for all. Dressed in her snug cardigan, she deliberately left a few buttons undone on her shirt, showcasing a subtle display of cleavage. It wasn't much cleavage without the Engorgio charm, but it was there.

She went to him willfully. “I’m ready for my private lesson.”

And he was all too willing to accept her.

Hours were spent in conversation, with the focus being on him and his experiences. The level of boredom she experienced was beyond description, as she felt utterly unstimulated. This was the man the upperclassmen had slept with. “You have done so much. I wish I were brave like you.” She leaned into him, barely believing her lies.

In a tender gesture, he bent down to get a closer look at her, his hand delicately cradling her chin. “You can be brave right now.”

“I don’t think I should,” she averted his gaze. 

He turned her face back to him and then leaned in to give her a tender kiss. For an adult, he really didn't know what he was doing. As they locked lips, the kiss felt sloppy and uncoordinated, the sensation of too much tongue overpowering. 

As Kellah flicked her wand, the camera reacted instantaneously, capturing the moment with a series of dazzling flashes. The camera had become so small that he didn’t notice it as his eyes remained closed. She stood there, feeling the cool breeze against her bare skin as he stripped her. Now wearing nothing but a bra and a skirt. She felt exposed, but this needed to be done. Only a bit more. With a gentle touch, she slipped off her shoe and used her foot to stroke his groin, causing him to melt beneath her touch. Then stepped on his dick.

“That’s a little rough,” he said, wincing as he tried to move her foot cautiously.

“Oh, I thought you liked it when you did it rough with Eliza, forgetting her last name, but your target was Penelope Clearwater correct.”

A blush crept onto Lockhart’s face. Before he could cast a spell, he swiftly retrieved his wand from his pocket. The spell Oscausi left Kellah’s lips as a whispered incantation and the surrounding air shimmered with a faint blue glow. Where his mouth used to be, there was nothing but a gaping void. As she ran her fingers through his hair, Kellah felt the soft strands ruffle under her touch. Then she pulled them, causing the hair to stand on end. As he struggled to push her away, she effortlessly subdued him with a magic-infused rope, rendering him immobile.

“I love that spell. Most wizards don’t know non-verbal magic till year six. It’s not a requirement to pass. And you don’t seem like the type to know it.” 

He fell to the ground. Desperate for his attention, she grabbed a handful of his hair, demanding he look into her eyes. When she released his head, it cracked the hard surface of the floor. She then took the tip of her pinkie to give him a new mouth before he muffled a scream. A smile spread across their face, crimson stains tracing a gruesome image. Blood dripped from where his lips should be. “I don’t know many spells, but I bet I know more than you.”

She applied even greater pressure with her nail, forcefully tearing open his mouth. Just as he was about to scream, she abruptly held up pictures of four other girls. “I have pictures of you with at least four girls for every house, and I’ll reveal them unless you give me access to the restricted section.”

Kellah didn't know what possessed her to say that. She was supposed to be doing this to protect Ginny and the other girls. Or was it both now? Confusion clouded her mind as she tried to make sense of the situation. As she tried to gather her thoughts, Lockhart’s presence loomed large, making it hard for her to concentrate. 

“Dun. I’ll sig uh note nah,” he said with his deformed mouth.

In her hands, she held out a quill, a bottle of ink, and a crisp piece of parchment, urging him to put his thoughts into a letter. She couldn’t remember where she had acquired them. 

She took it and placed it in her pocket. “If you tell anyone, I will plaster these around school, and no one would ever read your books again, and you would be remembered as a pedophile.”

Kellah unbound him as she left the door and did the counter-curse for his mouth. Now that it was done, she could enjoy her day off at school. Then she remembered she had wizard’s chess. Her work was never done.

She eagerly joined the wizard's chess club, but her excitement quickly turned to nerves as she realized she had to tackle the challenge of brewing the Polyjuice potion afterward. 

Clutching her cauldron tightly, she dashed to the Training Grounds and hurried into the hidden room. As Kellah placed the lace-winged flies inside, a sweet, smoky scent filled the air, mingling with the magical energy of the fire. She set it too low. To prevent the water from spilling out too fast, she quickly secured the lid. Checking it became a part of her bedtime routine and her morning ritual. It would be more convenient if they had a crock pot, but technology was useless in this place.

As she neared the classroom, she could hear the faint chatter of students coming from inside. Going all the way to the Gryffindor common room was more inconvenient compared to this. To get places faster, she would either need to borrow a broom or discover some shortcuts. Her brooms were still a work in progress, not quite ready for use. Although Ginny would say otherwise, Dean disproved that.

Kellah was the last to arrive. The sound of Draco’s loud shouts reached her ears. “Do you even know how to play wizard’s chess, you Muggleborn idiot?”

“That’s rich coming from someone losing,” said Dean.

“I think you’ll find the only real loser here is you, Mud,”- before he could finish, Malfoy’s mouth had disappeared.

As Professor Sinistra appeared, the room grew silent. “There will be no Mudbloods from you in this room, Mr. Malfoy. I want Queen’s English in this class, Muggleborn or otherwise.” She returned his lips. “Five points from Slytherin.”

“Yes, Professor,” he sneered. 

Malfoy quickly sat down at a table with Kellah. “Can’t you be nice?”

“Only to you,” he whispered.

“Maybe extend that invitation to the wizard’s chess club.”

“Never,” they played in silence.

Time seemed to fly by as the days blurred together. Once Kellah had successfully brewed her Polyjuice potion, she found herself free from the torment of her nightmares. 

Halloween had finally arrived, and Kellah, wanting to embrace the holiday spirit fully, tuned out of all her classes for the day, using her beanie as a makeshift pillow to catch some sleep. She had dressed up as Buffy the Vampire Slayer, complete with a leather jacket and a wooden stake. Dressing up as something cute was her way of embracing the occasion. The honey-blonde dye on her braids perfectly matched the sun's golden rays, creating a stunning contrast to her dark hair. It was good to do fun magic again, like Crinus Muto. Not to be confused with Colovaria. One was used for everything, which made it less potent, and one just for hair. Something Kellah found out the hard way when more braids fell out. 

She had to constantly adjust her crop top or zip up her leather jacket to conceal her stomach, as it violated the dress code. Hermione had been glaring at her all day about it but said nothing. 

When class let out, she hurried out of Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Thankfully, Lockhart was so distracted by his own hubris that he didn’t notice how short Kellah’s pleated skirt was. Or was he trying to be good after she confronted him? 

As she touched the interior of her leather jacket, she could feel the small vials of Polyjuice Potion and Sleeping Draught. Their glass surfaces cool against her fingertips. They were securely nestled in her secret pocket. If she had made it more potent, the potion would have been the Draught of the Living Dead. However, Kellah refused to do that, regardless of Pansy’s Pureblood elitism. It also took too long, used more ingredients, and was hard to perfect. And this was Pansy, not Lord Voldemort potency, made no difference. 

Pansy’s voice, slightly garbled because of her mouthful of sweets, carried across the corridor as she animatedly chatted with Daphne Greengrass about her Halloween costume - a genie. 

Theo Nott bit into an apple as they walked down the corridor. “It’s Genie, Djinn, and Jinn. But you told me you were going to be I Dream of Genie. How would you know about that, huh? “

A wave of crimson washed over Pansy’s cheeks before a nasty grin spread across her face. “Oh, I wish I was deaf. Does anyone know a silencing spell?"

Daphne cackled. “I think I know one.”

“More Muggle talk. How fascinating,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

Then Kellah opened her jacket and puffed out her chest, and poked her butt out as she walked. The discomfort in her back was becoming unbearable as she continued walking. It had the intended effect because Theo Nott dropped his apple and smiled at her. 

“Find something interesting,” Pansy said.

The comment was initially meant for Theo, but Kellah saw it as a golden chance for herself. “You would be interesting at first, but you’re all rather dull.”

“Stay out of this Mudblood,”Pansy snapped.

“I will once your nose is out of Malfoy’s ass,” Kellah then gave her a quick shove and took some sweets Pansy had in her hand, then ate it in her face.

This brought a hearty laugh from Theo, who couldn’t help but find the whole thing amusing. Malfoy wasn’t far away but did not intervene; instead, he winked at Kellah. Pansy must have thought it was directed at her because she smiled at him. Hermione came by and grabbed Kellah by the arm.

“Taking on a group of Slytherins alone what has gotten into you.”

Kellah felt for Pansy’s hair in her pocket. “Just a bit of light reading.”

They made their way to the Great Hall, passing through the grand, arched entrance. It was truly mesmerizing as pumpkins of all shapes and sizes, along with skeletons, adorned every corner. The area had undergone a magnificent Halloween transformation, creating a captivating spectacle for all to behold. The vibrant colors of orange and black filled the air, creating an ambiance of spooky delight. It was as if the Halloween spirit had taken over, enchanting everyone who laid eyes on the scene. The pumpkins, with their wicked grins and intricate carvings, seemed to come alive in the flickering candlelight. Skeletons, draped in cobwebs and positioned in eerie poses, added a layer of chilling excitement. Every nook and cranny had been meticulously adorned, ensuring that no corner was left untouched by the Halloween magic. It was a sight that truly captured the season's essence, leaving all who witnessed it mesmerized and eager to join in the festivities.

Once the awe wore off she finally noticed that Ron, Harry, and Hermione had not bothered to dress up, standing out among the elegantly attired crowd. Ginny was dressed in what appeared to be a Phoenix costume, with wings and a tail, although she wasn’t entirely convinced it was an accurate representation. 

Hermione intertwined her fingers with Kellah’s, feeding the connection between them. “You sure you don’t want to go to the Death Day party with us?” Hermione asked.

“I want to do something fun for Halloween, and I didn’t promise Nick anything, but you three enjoy yourselves. Oh, and bring me a sample of ghost ectoplasm.”

“I’m really disappointed in you,” said Hermione, releasing Kellah’s hand.

“I’m disappointed in myself. She’s the lucky one,” said Ron.

“A promise is a promise,” said Hermione.

“Yes, and we keep our promises,” said Harry, deadpanned.

The boys walked away with Hermione, their faces downcast and their footsteps heavy with sadness. Getting up, Kellah set out on a mission to locate Pansy Parkinson. It didn’t take long; she was on her way to the feast. Carefully, Kellah retrieved the sweet she had laced with a sleeping draught, its small, colorful wrapper glinting in the light. Pansy wasted no time taking it from Kellah and unwrapping it, savoring the burst of flavor in her mouth. Since most of the students were in the Great Hall, it only took a gentle nudge to guide her into the nearest room.

While trying to shove Pansy in, the girl lost her balance and ended up flat on her face, her pug nose squished against the floor. 

After performing a duplicate spell, Kellah transformed into Pansy’s genie outfit. As Kellah admired herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but feel that the outfit was a better fit for her than ever before she took the Polyjuice Potion. 

Kellah put the hairs in the potion and it had a repulsive appearance, resembling the slimy, green mucus that often dripped from Pansy’s pug’s nose. Holding her nose, Kellah gulped down the potion in two big swigs, feeling the liquid slide down his throat like fire. It had the flavor of a spicy dish that not only numbed your tongue but also triggered an allergic response. 

As soon as it happened, her stomach churned violently, feeling like rats were trying to claw their way out. As she doubled up, a queasy sensation washed over her, making her wonder whether she was going to be sick. The transformation into Pansy sent waves of pain coursing through her body. An intense pain that felt as though flames were devouring her insides consumed her. From her stomach, a fiery sensation surged, coursing through her body until it reached the very tips of her fingers and toes. Her hands underwent a startling metamorphosis, leaving her wide-eyed - they thinned the fingers, and the knuckles were bony. With a painful stretch, her shoulders tensed, and a prickling sensation on her forehead indicated that her hair was slowly inching up. Now she could see a black mass of hair over her eyebrows. As her chest flattened like a cutting board, her costume fit to perfection. 

Overwhelmed by excruciating pain, she dropped to her knees, clutching her chest, and then the pain abruptly ceased. If she had not changed beforehand it would have ripped and fallen to the ground. Completely drained of energy, she remained motionless, unwilling to budge from her position. How did an adult wizard bear this pain and then wear the person like a skin suit for the duration of the potion? 

Rising to her feet, Kellah deftly pulled Pansy’s hand mirror from her bag. In terms of looks, she was the exact opposite of Pansy, with a lanky physique like a beanpole while Kellah was curvy and short. And now she was Pansy.

She quietly exited the classroom and unexpectedly bumped into Theo and Daphne, their presence instantly dimming her day. “Did you set that Mudblood in her place?”

Channeling her inner Pansy, she flipped her hair and coolly said, “It’s handled.”

They laughed, and Theo commented."Now you’ve got the Mudblood cooties."

Kellah’s eye roll betrayed her true intentions—deep down, she longed to cause harm to Theo. Glancing down at her nails, she feigned boredom, her eyes subtly conveying a lack of enthusiasm. Pansy’s nails were flawlessly manicured, each one shining with a glossy finish. “Where’s Draco?”

“Probably stealing sweets from first years,” Theo said.

Sure enough, not far down the hall, Crabbe and Goyle were smirking as they devoured the stolen sweets, leaving a distraught first-year Luna Lovegood in their wake. Ginny was about to draw her wand when Luna stopped her.With a skip in her step and her blonde hair swaying, Luna pulled out another basket and ventured off barefoot.

His silver-blond hair fell gracefully over his shoulders, framing his sharp, aristocratic features. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on his steely grey eyes, adding an eerie intensity to his gaze. Dressed in a tailored black suit, his cape billowed around him, creating an aura of mysterious elegance.

Malfoy exuded a sense of otherworldly allure, his presence captivating those who dared to glance his way. The contrast between his ghostly complexion and the shadowy surroundings only enhanced his haunting demeanor. With each calculated movement, he seemed to embody the very essence of a nocturnal creature.

Leaning on the railing, he surveyed the scene with a mixture of disdain and amusement. His lips curled into a wicked smile, revealing a hint of fangs that matched his vampiric persona. The darkness embraced him as if recognizing his affinity for the night.

As whispers of his presence circulated through the crowd, curiosity mingled with apprehension. It was as if the night had conjured him, bringing forth a creature both beautiful and dangerous. His presence was a reminder that darkness had its own allure, capable of captivating even the most unsuspecting souls.

With an air of confident aloofness, Malfoy remained poised, his every gesture exuding a magnetism that drew others closer. The juxtaposition of his vampiric attire against the backdrop of the night created an unforgettable image, etching itself into the memories of all who had witnessed him in that moment.

Whether it was the allure of the forbidden or the fascination with the unknown, Malfoy stood there as a symbol of intrigue and enigma. His pale skin, contrasting against the dark backdrop, was a visual representation of the shadows that danced within his own complex nature.

Kellah scoffed. He was so dramatic."Move." She pushed Theo and Daphne out of the way and went straight to Malfoy. 

“Are you going to keep stealing sweets or talk to me?”

Ignoring her completely, Malfoy nonchalantly perched himself on a staircase railing.” Steal sweets.” 

In her Pansy disguise, Kellah quietly settled down next to him. As their bodies pressed close, she whispered in his ear, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation. “It’s me, Kellah. Let’s have some fun.”

A look of delight crossed Malfoy’s face as she forcefully pressed the sweets basket against Crabbe’s stomach. The moment arrived, and with a groan, the staircase started its slow ascent, leaving Crabbe and Goyle behind on the ground floor. She and Draco waved at them, then walked away as it set in place on the other side. 

She brought him around a corner. “What are you—” she interrupted him with a kiss.

 Ever since the library, she had longed for the chance to do that. There was a newfound boldness within her, and she couldn’t help but wonder where it was coming from. No matter who saw, she expressed herself with no reservations. They were quite young, so no tongue. As soon as he tried, she pulled away. 

“Now that we don’t have to steal moments, what do you want to do?” she asked.

Chapter Text

As they stood before Professor Sinistra, Kellah and Malfoy’s elaborate costumes enhanced the ambiance of Halloween night, infusing it with an extra dose of excitement and allure. Kellah, adorned as a genie, and Malfoy, transformed into a vampire, exchanged uncertain glances. Pondering whether to embark on a trick-or-treating adventure, their indecisiveness quickly dissipated when they noticed a sign that read “haunted house,” cleverly positioned directly in the path of Professor Sinistra.

“Hey, Professor,” Kellah said with a big smile.

A sneer curled on the Professor’s lips, revealing her derision. “Ms. Parkinson… Mr. Malfoy,” she said his name in annoyance.

“Two for the haunted house, please,” Malfoy declared.

She locked eyes with Malfoy." Are you certain? It’s quite frightening?"

Malfoy's face went pale, which was terrible considering his costume.“I’m not scared. That’s rubbish.”

“Right, then you can have our deluxe scare package. Three sickles and fourteen knuts, please.”

Malfoy swiftly retrieved the money from his pocket and forcefully placed it into her palm. “Who carries sickles and knuts? All I have is galleons.”

Kellah let out an irritated sigh before saying, “Everyone — and why are you charging us, Professor?”

“Doesn't matter. Keep the change,” Malfoy scoffed. 

The professor carefully examined the money, scrutinizing the coin before delicately placing it in a secure box. “It does matter because I live in Hogsmeade, and this came out of my coin purse.”

“I thought all professors lived at Hogwarts,” Kellah asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“The single ones do. Now enjoy kiddies, especially YOU, Mr. Malfoy.”

She could have sworn she saw Malfoy gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Kellah had to forcefully guide him inside as he was moving at a sluggish pace. The touch of his hand in hers sent a comforting sensation through her body as she lovingly rubbed it. His hands felt noticeably softer than hers when they brushed against each other. This action seemed to have a calming effect on him, and a smile of gratitude formed on his lips. “If you get frightened, squeeze my hand, and we’ll close our eyes and run ahead.”

“Rubbish. I’m not frightened.” He reassured himself, repeating the words softly, “I’m not frightened,” as he took a deep breath and pushed forward.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Kellah said, clinging to his arm.

“I don’t need protection.” His voice quivered with emotion as they walked in, and he said, “You do.”

“You’re such a little coward.”

As Malfoy leaned in, she could feel the soft brush of his lips against hers, igniting a surge of warmth that spread throughout her entire body. “Not where it matters.”

Despite the kiss a constant fear of unexpected surprises haunted her, causing her to worry about accidentally striking an actor who might startle her. To resist any urge to harm, she kept her hands safely tucked in her pockets or gripping her purse strap, turning it into a game to guess the most probable spots for a surprise scare. She found this exercise gratifying, always staying alert and strategically positioning herself to avoid surprises from the approaching actors.

The moment she stepped into the spotted room, she could feel an enchanting ambiance created by the polka dot patterns dancing across all four walls and the ceiling.

“This isn’t scary. This will be easy,” Malfoy shouted. A single strobe light stood out in the room, continuously flashing, creating a mesmerizing visual effect. As they went deeper into the room, the loud music hit her like a wave, drowning out all other sounds.

She came face to face with a giant Cheshire cat grin, its mouth the only visible feature. Kellah blinked, and it was gone. Malfoy had not noticed. 

The more they progressed, the more their anxiety heightened, their confusion mounting. They hastily shuffled towards the other door, and at that moment, he materialized before them, emitting a chilling scream of deranged laughter.

It made them jump out of their skin.

As he made his move, his costume and makeup blended seamlessly with the pulsating strobe light, rendering him invisible to their pursuit. He moved so stealthily that they were completely unaware of his presence. Kellah wished she knew a detection spell right now. When it came to her abilities, she excelled in the art of making plants thrive, creating a range of captivating fireworks, and anything to do with hair and makeup. Without the diary, she would have never been introduced to the magical incantations of Oscausci, Engorgio, or Reducio—especially not Peskipiksi Pesternomi. The diary had taught her how to do that in seconds, but it couldn't help her now. In the dark, the diary was rendered useless, its contents hidden from sight. The deafeningly loud music drowned out any chance of hearing the voice, leaving her unable to think clearly.

Out of thin air, a set of eyes and a mouth emerged, encircling them and forcing them back from the other door, subjecting them to never-ending torment.

When they eventually stumbled upon the door again, Malfoy swiftly deserted her without a second thought. She had no choice but to sprint after him, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. With him holding the door, they wedged their way through, feeling the strain in their muscles as they pushed. On the other side, the sound of laughter reached her ears. 

As they took a moment to catch their breath, the sound of their heavy panting echoed in their ears, while the feel of sweat dripping down their faces served as a constant reminder that their journey was far from over. Malfoy’s expression shifted as he caught sight of the sweat, prompting him to reach for a handkerchief and wipe himself clean hurriedly. After he was finished, he extended the offer to Kellah, but she declined. 

The next area of the haunted house had a chilling section where the ceiling seemed to shrink, making her feel like she was being trapped in a sinister embrace. Eventually, she reached a section where she had to crawl through, feeling the rough ground against her palms and knees. The room was dimly lit, with dark wood walls and a ceiling that seemed to swallow up the light.

Annoyance was clear on Malfoy’s face as he reluctantly rolled up his sleeves and crawled on his belly. Kellah had a feeling that if he weren’t on the Slytherin Quidditch Team, his lungs would burn, and he would pant heavily.

Though it may evoke fear in claustrophobic individuals, for others, it’s nothing more than an annoyance and a considerable delay. Harry would feel right at home. 

The floor seamlessly transitioned from painted plywood to plexiglass, its smooth surface catching the light. The lack of lighting on the other side of the plexiglass intensified the feeling of isolation and unease.

Lying on his back on a shelf, the haunted house worker was garishly made up, his face almost touching the plexiglass. With someone moving above him, their face came dangerously close to her, just inches away. The room was plunged into darkness until he hit the light switch and unleashed a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the empty space.

The guy forcefully pounded on the glass, making it rattle and shake. And then he did something that sent shockwaves through everyone who witnessed it. With a swift flick of his wand, he tapped the glass, and a burst of colorful sparks erupted from its tip. 

Malfoy banged his head on the low ceiling, causing him to wince in pain. As they squeezed out of the crawl space in fright, they ran so fast, smack dab into a web that brushed against their faces, sending a shiver down their spines. As she looked closer, she realized it was an intricately woven spider web with dewdrops clinging to each strand. Ron would hate this.  

Although it was a bit scary, she stayed calm and composed. She confidently forged ahead, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. She walked in various directions, exploring the winding paths of the room, until she reached another closed end, where her reflection greeted her. Unsure if she was on a different path or retracing her steps, she continued to explore., but each time, she found herself back at the same closed end, facing her reflection. It felt like she was caught in a never-ending spiral, a puzzle with no solution. Panic consumed her as the realization of being trapped sank in.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Gathering her courage, she retraced her steps and carefully analyzed her surroundings. Perhaps there was a hidden clue or a subtle detail she had missed.

As she walked back, she noticed a small inscription on the wall that she hadn't seen earlier. It read, "Only the fearless shall find the way." Intrigued, she pondered its meaning. Maybe the key to escaping this perplexing maze was to face her fears head-on.

With newfound determination, she pushed through her anxiety and continued exploring the maze. Each dead end and closed path only fueled her resolve to break free. She refused to let fear paralyze her any longer.

As she ventured deeper into the maze, she stumbled upon a narrow passage that seemed different. It was dimly lit, with an eerie silence enveloping the air. Despite the unease it brought, she pushed forward, trusting her instincts.

The narrow passage led her to a hidden door, barely noticeable amidst the maze's intricate walls. 

Then the ultimatum arrived as someone snuffed out all the lights plunging the room into silence and stillness. They were left in total darkness due to someone blowing out all the candles. A wave of fear swept over them, leaving them frozen in disbelief. Their screams pierced the stillness, causing everyone nearby to stop and listen. Frustration mounting, she frantically darted from one direction to another, her head colliding with the mirrors as she clumsily navigated through the maze. They tried everything, but success eluded them. Time dragged on, and she couldn’t stop the persistent trembling. In an instant, the darkness was replaced with the flickering glow of lights as the power was restored. Right before her eyes, two people materialized, leaving her in a state of shock. A deafening scream escaped her lips, causing everyone to freeze in their tracks. 

Kellah and Malfoy quickly pivoted and bolted, the adrenaline coursing through their veins, until they spotted the door once again. Holding hands, they ran for their lives.

With a surge of hope, she turned the doorknob and stepped into a new corridor filled with light and endless possibilities.

Relief washed over her as she realized she had finally found an exit. The fear that had plagued her earlier transformed into a triumph. She had conquered the maze, and in doing so, she had conquered her fears. When she looked at Malfoy, she realized he had not, for he had peed his pants. 

As she laughed, his face transformed from joy to sorrow, as if he were on the verge of tears. “Scourgify,” Kellah said, and as she hugged him, she could feel his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against her chest. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you. Moments like these are why I fancy you.”

Leaning in, he closed his eyes. The moment was ruined when he noticed her skin bubbling, causing him to retract his lips quickly. “You’re going to turn back into a Pumpkin Cinderella.”

She wanted to ask how he knew who Cinderella was but she didn't have the time. With each stride, Kellah’s heart hammered in her chest, her heavy breathing drowning out all other noises as she ran. After entering the classroom where Pansy was, she wasted no time changing into her Muggle costume as the painful transformation began. Suddenly, her surroundings vanished into darkness. 

In the blink of an eye, she was no longer where she was before; instead, she found herself seated at the feast, feeling the warmth of Dean’s presence beside her. He was in a realistic werewolf costume that made him look like a creature straight out of a horror movie. 

Forcing a smile, attempting to mask her emotions and give the impression that everything was fine, yet deep inside, she felt an overwhelming sense of distress. “Did you miss me?” she asked.

“Always, but why is your basket empty?”

Unbeknownst to her, she had been carrying a basket without even realizing it until now. Her palm bore red marks resembling the imprints of nails as few were bleeding. Kellah disregarded it.“Oh, I went to the haunted house. More fun,” she said, hiding her palms. 

“Really, you chose trick instead of treat.” Deep in thought, Dean tapped his dimple to gather his ideas. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, I heard Malfoy went in and screamed his head off.”

Dean’s face lit up with a smile, showing his dimples. “Yeah, he was with Pansy.” He pushed his basket towards her. “You can have some of my sweets then.”

He scooped up a handful of candies from his bowl and delicately placed them into hers. 

Then, the tables were pushed to the wall with them seated. None of the food spilled, many kids let out “woos” or screamed in excitement. Some people let out piercing screams, likely still haunted by the inferi attack from last year. 

Stepping up to the podium, Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, ready to deliver a powerful speech. “Many Muggles celebrate Halloween for tricks and treats. But wizards know it as the day Voldemort was defeated.” Hearing Dumbledore say his name, a sharp ache pulsed through her head. “Let us not forget that as we have our festivities. This Halloween, we have something special. Courtesy of Professor McGonagall.”

As the lights dimmed, McGonagall waved her wand dramatically, conjuring two dancing skeletons that swayed to the blaring music. In the blink of an eye, a band apparated onto the stage, surprising everyone in the audience. Running up with screams, the kids brought a burst of energy and excitement. Ginny let out a piercing scream, causing Kellah’s ear to ring. “It’s King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard!”

Daphne Greengrass's screamed were so loud they could be heard across the room. “Of course, you wouldn’t know their hit song Crumbling Castle, you Mud ahahaha.”

Kellah pushed Daphne with such force that she was immediately swept up by the chaos of the other screaming girls as she crashed to the floor. If she was hurt, Madam Pomfrey could always patch her up.

Pushing through the crowd, Kellah made her way to the front, where the pulsating beat of the music throbbed against her chest, and she and Dean danced. They were squeezed uncomfortably close to the stage, practically shoulder to shoulder, but the excitement made it worth it. The crowd was so dense that she couldn’t make out individual faces, feeling only the warmth and pressure of bodies around her resonating with the music.  

Squeezing tightly on stage, she found herself sandwiched between a skeleton and the renowned King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. Feeling the weight of McGonagall’s glare, she hastily slid back down, realizing it was best not to provoke her. Just then, a sixth-year student named Orsino Thruston caught her attention as he handed them his record. Even though he was escorted out, the band kept his record. 

The skeletons put on a haunting display for an hour before suddenly vanishing with the band, leaving the music abruptly silent.

Kellah grasped Ginny’s hand. “Come on. So, did you have fun with Eloise Midgen?”

“No, she had a bad acne breakout, so I went with Loony Lovegood, which was interesting.”

As Kellah stumbled into Draco, her surprise quickly transformed into sheer shock. The entire student body had frozen, their gaze fixated on a chilling sight in the distance. Etched on the wall in a disturbing display of crimson was an ominous message:

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.”

The words sent a shiver down everyone’s spine as the reality of the situation sunk in. The school was no longer a safe haven and an unknown enemy lurked among them. Fear and uncertainty gripped the air as students whispered in hushed tones, wondering who could be behind this sinister act. The once bustling corridors now felt eerie and foreboding as everyone contemplated the potential dangers that lay ahead.

“Enemy of the heir, beware, you’ll be next, Mudbloods,” said Malfoy.

A kid named Blaise Zabini, a handsome black boy who preferred solitude, murmured beside him, “We can only hope.”

As the Slytherins snickered, their smug expressions revealed their amusement. Amid the chaotic crowd, Kellah forged her way forward, keeping a firm grip on Ginny’s hand. And there, right in front of Mrs. Norris and Nearly Headless Nick, stood her three best mates, their faces reflecting pure terror. Above Nearly Headless Nick, Peeves hovered mid-air, blowing a raspberry. Now, the school felt even gloomier, as if the darkness had deepened. 

Chapter Text

“You murdered my cat. I’ll kill you.” Argus Flich lunged at Harry, his fingers gripping tightly onto his collar. Standing next to Kellah, Ginny clenched her fist. The sight of the professors caused the caretaker, Filch, to release his tight grip on Harry.

The crowd parted to let them pass. Professors, in great numbers, descended upon Harry, Ron, and Hermione, overwhelming them. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Lockhart collectively herded them forcefully into a small, confined room. Lockhart’s office, of course. With Dumbledore occupied in Lockhart’s office with Mrs. Norris. Her body remained rigid as if made of wood, and dried blood was on her tail. 

Madam Pomfrey and Pomona Sprout started their inspection of Nearly Headless Nick. 

Annoyance was clear on the faces of the other professors, with Sinistra being the most expressive as she hissed in exasperation. “Reckon I’m not going home to my husband tonight.”

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. “Students return to your dormitories.” 

With a collective sigh, the four houses split apart, their paths diverging in different directions. On the way to the dormitory, all anyone could talk about was the mysterious writing on the wall. The Prefects were frantically ushering the houses back at an accelerated pace. 

Ginny came up to her. “Poor Mrs. Norris.”

“Poor Mrs. Norris, what about Harry? He didn’t do this," said Kellah.

Seamus sauntered over to them, a smug grin plastered on his face. “How do you know it wasn’t Potter? He’s a real chancer he is.”

Kellah’s eyes widened as she exclaimed, “He saved the school last year!”

Ginny’s fist curled up, trembling slightly with anger. “Shut it, Seamus, or I’ll shut it for you.”

“Are you going to hurt me over your wee fella?” Seamus said.

“I was going to let one of my four brothers handle it, but I would rather do it myself.” Ginny’s fist was poised to strike Seamus in the face, but Kellah intervened just in time, restraining her. Thankfully, it was crowded, and no Perfects were near them. 

“Piss off, Seamus, we have to sleep in the room with them. Be cool,” said Dean, annoyed.

Seamus draped an arm over Dean and confidently stated, “You and I, we’re mates.”

“Mates, don’t talk about each other the way you were,” Kellah chimed in.

“Yeah, what do you say behind my back?” said Dean.

“Feck off,”Seamus said under his breath.

Throughout the remaining duration of the walk to the dormitory, Seamus chose to maintain a quiet demeanor. Better than being slugged by Ginny and berated by Dean. 

The entire group reached the tower amidst the collective effort of the crowd to enter through the porthole forcefully. Given the simultaneous arrival of numerous students, there was no necessity to verbalize the password. Dean extended his help to Ginny and Kellah as they made their way through the hole. He was always doing that. Kellah liked it. Ginny appeared displeased and declined the arm he extended. 

They found a space on the sofa and managed to all fit in, with Dean occupying the middle spot between Kellah and Ginny. Seamus occupied an armchair while Neville swiftly approached them and settled on the floor. 

“Did you hear it’s awful we’re in danger?” Neville mumbled.

“It’s after Muggleborns,” said Kellah she said without thinking.

“How did you know that?” asked Seamus.

“It’s on the wall in blood. Malfoy mentioned it, and the Chamber of Secrets is said to be a monster created by Salazar Slytherin to kill those he believes unworthy, which are Muggleborns since he was a Pureblood. Sorry, Neville,” Kellah said in one breath.

Neville’s eyes fluttered rapidly, reflecting his inner turmoil. “I’m almost a Squib, so no offense taken. Most Purebloods don’t like me just as much as they don’t like the Weasley. Sorry Ginny.”

A warm, genuine smile spread across Ginny’s face. “I wear blood traitor like a badge of honor.”

Shaking his head, Seamus expressed his disagreement. “That still doesn’t explain how Kellah knows that maybe she’s the killer, not Harry.”

At that, she rolled her eyes. “It’s in the book Hogwarts: a History. You would know if you spent more time reading than blowing up stuff.”

Seamus rose to his feet, ready to argue, but Fred’s unexpected arrival thwarted his intentions. “Guess we should check out this Hogwarts a History book.”

“If we get it first,” George suggested, “we could have students pay.”

“Legend,” Lee Jordan exclaimed. “I’ll help if it’s all three of us. There is a better chance we split it fifty-fifty.”

“Thirty, thirty-thirty,” the twins said in unison. “With a three,” added Fred.

Everyone was chatting like that until Harry, Ron, and Hermione came in, and then it was dead silent as they walked into the room. 

The Twins looked at each other and then said. “Heir coming through you lot.”

“You’re in the presence of royalty,” added Jordan Lee.

Everyone laughed, but Dean and Kellah got up quickly. “Tell me what Harry says," said Kellah.

“I will if you tell me what Hermione says, too," Dean added.

Quick as lightning, she raced up the steps to her dormitory, relishing the empty dorm room while the other girls lagged behind. Their hug was filled with a sense of relief and joy as they held each other tightly. “Are you alright what happened?”

In complete silence, Hermione sank onto her bed, releasing a heavy sigh. “We weren’t expelled or suspended, and they didn’t take points.”

“So you didn’t do it. I knew it.”

“Mrs. Norris was petrified, but Professor Snape will be working on a cure.”

“With Mandrake roots, of course, we just planted the babies, but they aren’t mature yet.”

Hermione nodded, her bushy hair bouncing with the movement. “And there is something else.”

“What, Hermione?”Kellah said, leaning in closer.

“Harry said he had been hearing voices. Ron told him that wasn’t a good thing, even in the wizarding world.”

He’s not the only one hearing voices.

There was a moment of stillness before Kellan gathered her thoughts and finally spoke. “He shouldn’t have said it like that, Hermione. That’s rude.”

“Oh, and Filch is a Squib. Ask Ron to explain more. I haven’t studied that.”

As Lavender and Parvati walked in, the scent of their perfume lingered in the room. Parvati tightly gripped Hermione’s hand while Lavender shot them an irritated glance.

 “So what happened?” Lavender said, folding her arms defiantly.

Hermione’s gaze fixated on Kellah. “Nothing. It's like the Professors said, now off to bed it's midnight.”

Lavender collapsed onto her plush bed, the soft fabric enveloping her tired body, and began carefully placing rollers in her hair. “Likely story. And don't tell me to go to bed.” Once she finished with her rollers, she resembled a grandmother. “But I'm going to bed, anyway. And not because you said so.”

As they prepared for bed, Layla and Parvati, mindful of the late hour, uttered their bedtime prayers in hushed tones.

That night, she had unusual dreams. She found herself in the flooded second-floor girls’ bathroom, where Moaning Myrtle had suddenly burst through the pipes before disappearing. Curiosity overtook her, and she whispered to the sink, causing it to open up, revealing a hidden tunnel. 

As she cautiously made her way through the dark passage, the air grew colder, and the eerie whispers of unseen creatures echoed in her ears. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being watched. Suddenly, she stumbled upon a dimly lit chamber, its walls adorned with ancient symbols and writings. There was a steel door with snakes. She spoke parseltongue, and it opened.

In the center of the chamber stood a towering statue of Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the Chamber of Secrets. His cold, stern gaze seemed to pierce through her very soul. The room was filled with a palpable sense of malice, as if dark magic had taken residence there.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and examined the chamber more closely. She noticed a series of intricate carvings on the walls, depicting the history of the Chamber and its dark secrets. It became clear that the Chamber held a terrifying power capable of unleashing unimaginable horrors upon the school.

As she made her way back through the hidden tunnel, her mind raced with questions. Who was the heir of Slytherin? And what dark forces were at play? The answers lay within the Chamber of Secrets, and she vowed to uncover them before it was too late.

As she ventured through, a colossal basilisk emerged, its eyes fixated on her. It hissed, “Hsshse Shtsss Hsuhhissii,” and nodded in acknowledgement. It was slithering beside her.

She rode the snake out of the tunnel, and they saw Mrs. Norris, the cat who became petrified upon looking at the basilisk. Seizing the opportunity, she poked the cat’s tail and wrote a chilling message: “THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.”

As the chilling message was written, a sense of dread washed over her. She knew that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, and danger lurked within the walls of Hogwarts. 

She bided her time until one additional victims appeared: Nearly Headless Nick, and the great snake petrified him, then gracefully retreated down the chamber and sealed its path, causing a swarm of spiders to scatter. The basilisk, a fearsome creature known for its deadly gaze, slithered away, leaving her alone. Suddenly, she stood in front of the majestic Great Hall before she abruptly woke up. 

Upon awakening, Kellah groggily glanced at her hands. Nothing was on them. And she was safe in her bed. Was it a vision? Was she having visions of the crime? Could she figure out who was doing it? More importantly, was she doing it? She had a vision that summer, but it was all so fast. All she knew was the diary was the key, and she had to do it alone. Not even Harry could help, or things would be worse.

Luckily, it was the weekend, and she craved some peace to refresh her mind. Along with everything else, there was also a wizard’s chess club training session today. 

Looking for a stylish and comfortable option, she wore a denim jumpsuit. The trend was fashionable. Well, it was a Muggle trend, and she had no trouble working outside in it. She seriously needed to get some coveralls and dungarees. With the weather still mild, she took a pleasant walk to Greenhouse Seven, finding it the perfect way to refresh her thoughts. 

There were hazardous plants in there. But she bypassed them and went to the last of her broomstock. After this, whatever brooms she had would have to suffice. As she weaved the broom, she noticed how dry it was, which made it even easier for her to handle with a wand. Doing it by hand was torture over the summer. Casting a quick gaze toward the spot where she had previously positioned the broom handles, she began connecting them and forming a cohesive unit. The pieces had fallen into place beautifully, resulting in a well-coordinated broom. Although this had initially been a punishment over the summer, she might turn it into a successful business venture if she possessed a talent for it. Talking to Dean as well had helped. 

She was in the wizarding world. With no money and no prospects, owning a business seemed like her only shot at success. Like the Weasleys, she lived a humble and frugal lifestyle with little to spare. She found herself in the unique position of being poor in both the Muggle world and the wizarding world despite the presence of great people around her. Every item in her closet had a story - either handcrafted by her mom, magically summoned from the Room of Requirement, or generously bestowed upon her by Draco. 

Unaware of the correct procedure, she mistakenly assumed that brooms could be used for transportation, similar to what she had seen in movies, without the need for any magical spell. It made sense, but it wasn’t something people talked about. Taking one of them outside, she mounted the broom and flew around for a short period of time. 

She enjoyed the feeling of gliding through the air on the broom, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards Harry and his impressive Nimbus 2000. It was clear that the broom she had chosen was not in the same league regarding speed. Nonetheless, she continued to fly for a while, relishing in the freedom and excitement it brought her. As she soared higher and higher, she couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to enhance the performance of her broom. Perhaps there were spells or modifications she could learn to make it faster and more agile. Determined to uncover the secrets of broom enchantment, she made a mental note to research and seek out any information she could find. After all, she refused to settle for anything less than the best flying experience.

Following that, she headed towards the Training Ground, just a short distance away, and skillfully placed it in the secret room concealed behind the stained glass panels. She was wondering how many secret rooms could she find. How many secrets did the school have? 

She was now making her way to room 1A, the venue for the chess club’s activities. As Ron cleared his throat and prepared to speak, the room fell into a hush of silence. He was feeling extremely nervous, causing his ears to turn red. He couldn’t resist tugging at the maroon sweater his mom had lovingly knitted for him. “Alright, you lot, um, there are three boards. Play amongst yourself. I will play Hermione since she is the best player besides me.”

It struck Kellah as odd that the adults were not offering any guidance. Maybe they should have added Harry to the team to get some. Unfolding events surrounding the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, Professor McGonagall, who was supposed to take charge, found herself occupied with assisting Dumbledore and could not fulfill her role. They had Professor Sinistra as one of their teachers, and although she was known for being fun, she did not have an affinity for chess. 

It was Padma, the sister of Parvati Patil, who raised her hand. Ron couldn’t help but roll his eyes in response, but he eventually nodded to show his agreement. “Where is Harry?” she asked.

“At Quidditch practice,” Ron said.

“That’s a relief. He's not much of a chess player,” Padma said.

“Right then, pick your board. We’re playing Skittles, so no clocks today.”

Taking a seat, Kellah became startled when Draco dashed towards her spot, causing a close call with Dean, who was also vying for the same seat. Choosing a different approach, Dean settled into a chair opposite Padma. But he winked and flashed a dimple. 

Taking a calculated action, Draco moved the pawn positioned directly in front of his queen. One of the most frequently used chess openings is the pawn's move to e4, which he executed. “Did you have a good Halloween?” he asked.

“Why don’t you guess and don’t be wrong.” She moved a pawn in front of her queen. Now, their pawns were face-to-face but unable to attack each other. 

“Oh, I would say yes. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brewed and drank that illegal potion just to see me.” 

Displaying his expertise, he made a flashy move by commanding a knight to a different square. It was her belief that he would choose to move another pawn in the game. 

“Well, you make me a risk taker,” She said, her fingertips over the pawn in front of her king-side castle.

Draco was white, and he was on the attack. She was black and had to defend her pieces. Many a pawn went down to protect her king. 

“I thought you weren’t good at this,” she said.

Using his queen, he strategically checkmated her, leaving her with no moves. “It’s because you leave yourself open.”

Having experienced many defeats during chess practice, it was almost over, and Professor Sinista finished reading The Daily Prophet.

In a burst of anger, Ron let out a loud yell. “You lot are horrid about how you got to be the chess team to go against other schools. I’ll never know. Celine Castillon would mop the floor with you lot. We’re playing simulation. Me against all five of you.”

Celine Castillon was the best student player in the wizarding world and Ron wouldn't let them forget it.

It came as quite a surprise when Ron played all of them, and, to make matters worse, they all ended up losing. His performance was of such high quality that it left a lasting impression. Kellah wasn’t sure if using the Confundus Charm and potion so everyone could be on the team had been a good idea.

Chapter Text

The school seemed devoid of vibrancy as if someone had sucked out all its color. There was a muted, uninspiring vibe to it. Kellah knew it could be because it was a school, but this was a magic school. The petrification of Nearly Headless Nick rendered the once lively surroundings eerily quiet. And everyone thought it was Harry’s fault.

As soon as class started, Harry’s presence became impossible to ignore. People either shied away from him or bombarded Ron, Hermione, or Kellah with inquiries about him. This situation grated on Kellah’s nerves. 

Ever since the attack, the blonde dye had ruined Kellah’s hair. The only thing adorning her head were colorful headbands and stylish headwraps, creating a unique and trendy fashion statement. To help conceal the damaged hair beneath. Could it be more than that? No, she was thinking too much. Just as she was about to finish her potion, a stray strand of hair floated down and landed in the concoction. Her nails were a constant source of pain, cracked and bleeding, so she resorted to keeping them polished red to mask the damage. She didn’t want to focus on that it was about the attack.

In the attack's aftermath, Hermione sought solace in the library, immersing herself in books and research more than ever before. In her quest to uncover the Chamber of Secrets’ mysteries, she meticulously examined every detail. Kellah didn't see a point. She trusted the teachers could handle it with expertise and efficiency. Dumbledore was there, after all, the greatest wizard in the world. Between school, chess, and dealing with a bit of boy trouble, Kellah had a packed schedule. The thought of solving another school mystery didn’t appeal to her. While the responsibility fell on the adults, the diary’s allure grew more potent, and she realized she couldn’t avoid getting involved forever. 

The constant stares from their classmates made her friends feel self-conscious in every class. Not a word was spoken except for the times they tossed notes at Harry, demanding answers. Ignoring them entirely or resorting to setting the paper alight were his ways of dealing with their comments. When it happened in Potions class, he received five points from Gryffindor and had to stay back to scrape tubeworms off the desk.

Following a hasty lunch without Harry, the rest of the gang made their way to the library, immersing themselves in completing their History of Magic homework and appeasing Hermione. 

Harry had stumbled upon them, engrossed in their History of Magic homework, their quills scratching against the parchment. Hermione’s paper stretched out for a whopping four feet, as Ron liked to boast. To Kellah, that was just four pages. It was overwhelming for the second-years to handle all of it. It was on “The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards.”

She rarely liked anything in History of Magic, but any war was worth it, and the assembly of a government or people was always because of war. Her paper eloquently captured her perspective on the topic.

It was a curious thing so many children's testimonies used to condemn witches to death. As Kellah pondered the situation, she grasped the underlying reasons for the Purebloods’ fury, which only made Ron’s struggle to comprehend it all the more perplexing. Ugh, she couldn’t help but agree with the Purebloods, much to her dismay. With a disgusted sigh, Kellah set the parchment aside, unable to bear its contents any longer. 

Once she set her paper aside, Ron mimicked her writing, eager to replicate her work. 

“Come on, Kellah, I'm at eight inches of parchment. You have written as much as Hermione.”

As they were browsing the shelves, Harry made his presence known.

“Where is Hermione?” he asked, his eyes darting around, searching for her familiar face. Harry, with a determined look, snatched the tape measure and unfurled his homework. Kellah looked at it. Harry had done as much work as Ron. This was her life now, making sure they passed every year. What are friends for?

“Somewhere around here,” said Ron, pointing along the shelves. “Looking for another book. I think she’s trying to read the whole library before Christmas.”

“She told me that was her goal for this year. Mine is to make brooms as fast as a Nimbus 2000,” said Kellah.

“I want to win this chess tournament. What about you, Harry?” Ron asked.

“I want people to not think I'm the heir of Slytherin. I was supposed to be sorted into Slytherin, but I told the hat no.”

“Don’t tell Hermione she’ll have a fit,” Ron said, writing as big as possible, and Harry did the same. Kellah rolled her eyes and began reading a nearby book, “Wands and Brooms Think Alike but Also Think for Themselves.”

“Just a peek at the paper,” Ron said.

“Ron, your paper is one page, Hermione's is four, and mine is three. Stop complaining and write,” she said.

“I'll complain if I want to,” said Ron.

“Less complaining, more writing,” said Harry.

“Not me. I'm gonna go find Hermione,” she said.

“Don't you dare? Now help us with this paper,” said Ron.

Kellah rolled her eyes. “Just add words like a matter of fact, due to this, and with the reasoning. Some filler words if that doesn't work, ramble and complain the entire paper.”

“It has come to my understanding,” Harry said, writing.

Ron’s hand moved quickly, leaving a trail of messy scribbles across the paper. “As you can clearly see from my statement.”

After they managed to get almost two pages Harry then informed Ron and Kellah about Justin Finch-Fletchley hastily fleeing from his presence.

“You shouldn't care. He's a git,” said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. “All that junk about Lockhart being so great —”

Emerging from the bookshelves, Hermione’s tired eyes revealed her long hours of studying. Her expression clearly showed that she was prepared to converse with them. Exhausted, she plopped down in a chair beside Kellah, massaging her temples to ease the ache. “All copies of Hogwarts A History have been checked out, so they have implemented a two-week waiting period. If only I hadn’t left my copy at home. It was that or not fit all of Lockhart's books in my trunk.”

“Oh, that's my fault. I told the Twins about it, and they checked it out first. I think they have a business going loaning it out.”

“I will get those two. I’ll tell their mother,”Hermione pursed her lips.

“Leave mum out of this,” Ron said.

“Fine, Ronald, you talk to them,” Hermione pouted.

“Why do you want that book?” said Harry.

“The same reason everyone else does,” said Hermione, “to read about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets.”

“What’s that?” said Harry quickly.

“I can’t remember,” said Hermione, biting her lip. “And I can’t find the story anywhere else. The library has never failed me before.”

“That’s why it has secrets in the name, and I remember a little.” Before Kellah could talk about it, the bell rang. 

“Hermione, let me read your essay,” said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

 “No, Ronald” said Hermione, suddenly severe. “You’ve had ten days to finish it —” 

“It’s only two inches I need, come on —”

Kellah tried to offer her essay to Ron, but Hermione swatted her hand. “He’ll never learn if we keep helping him.”

“But he keeps begging, it's sad.”

As Ron and Hermione continued their heated argument, Harry and Kellah instinctively gravitated towards each other, seeking refuge from the chaos. 

It was now History of Magic class and most people fell asleep but not her. Kellah immersed herself in the History of Magic, exploring the captivating origins and spellbinding chronicles of the wizarding world. Learning about the Magical World was fascinating to her, but the monotonous drone of Professor Binns made it hard to stay engaged. No one could quite grasp if he were aware of his demise, for he had peacefully passed away during his slumber. Even in death, his routine remained unchanged, as if he were still alive. They discovered him lifeless in his office, seated in an armchair. He was so old that even Professor Dumbledore had been his student.

Perhaps his enthusiasm would heighten when the topic shifted to ghosts. A thought just occurred to Kellah: did Professor Binns receive a salary, and could he actually benefit from the extra income? Were there any remaining members of his family? 

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut - nobody seemed to care about the stories of ghosts and the mysteries surrounding their deaths, which was more morbid than them being dead. It might offer them a means to move on from this world. 

As Professor Binns droned on about the International Federation of Warlocks Convention of 1289, Kellah knew both terms were correct but that one seemed more sexist. 

In the middle of Professor Binns's lecture, Hermione’s raised hand caught his attention, causing him to look amazed. Kellah kicked her chair. Ignoring her, Hermione defiantly held it even higher. 

“Missus— er —?”

“Granger, Professor.” In a clear voice, Hermione asked, “Do you have any information about the Chamber of Secrets that you could share with us?”

Sitting with his mouth agape, Dean Thomas was jolted out of his daydream as he tore his eyes from the window. Ron and Harry had intense expressions as they strategized their next moves in a game of wizard’s chess, but they suddenly stopped playing. As Lavender Brown raised her head from her arms, Neville Longbottom’s elbow accidentally slipped off his desk waking him.

As Professor Binns blinked, the room fell silent, everyone waiting for his next words.

“My subject is History of Magic,” he gasped, his voice dry and raspy. “I deal with facts, Miss Grawp, not myths and legends.” He cleared his throat with a slight noise like chalk slipping and continued, “In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers —”

He stumbled to a stop, his words becoming jumbled and hesitant. Once more, Hermione’s hand was waving, drawing everyone’s gaze towards her.

“Miss Grant?”

As Hermione and Binn debated, Kellah found a spot to rest and observe their discussion. He lost. They always lost to Hermione, eventually. It was always best to bend to her will. 

Professor Binns had the entire class’s attention as they hung on his every word. Every face turned to him as he peered dimly at them all. Such an uncommon show of interest left Kellah feeling completely disoriented.

The professor sighed before finally saying, “Oh, very well,” his words lingered in the air. “Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets…”

As he told the story, Kellah felt an uneasy stirring in her chest, a restlessness she couldn’t explain. She turned away, her body language indicating that she had no interest in hearing it. She wanted to keep this information hidden, away from prying ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a boy with dark hair who was quite attractive. When she turned to look, she saw an empty space where he had been standing. In a dazed state, she rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. It was probably a ghost that wandered into the classroom.

“It is common knowledge among all of you that Hogwarts, a prestigious institution, was established more than a millennium ago, although the exact date remains uncertain, by four exceptional individuals regarded as the most powerful witches and wizards of their time. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin are the names of the four schoolhouses, paying tribute to their respective founders. With the common people harboring a deep fear of magic and witches and wizards enduring widespread persecution, they came together to construct this castle in a remote area, away from the prying eyes of Muggles, as a sanctuary where they could freely exercise their magical abilities.”

After a brief pause, he glanced around the room with tired eyes and proceeded.

“The founders worked harmoniously for a few years, diligently searching for young individuals who displayed magical abilities and inviting them to the castle for their education. As time went on, they found themselves in disagreement with each other. Tensions escalated, and a clear separation developed between Slytherin and the remaining individuals. Slytherin intended to implement a more rigorous selection process for the students who are granted admission to Hogwarts. The conviction he held was that only families with magical backgrounds should have access to magical learning. Because of his belief that they were untrustworthy, he had a dislike for taking on students with Muggle parentage. Once some time had passed, a significant disagreement erupted between Slytherin and Gryffindor concerning the subject, leading to the departure of Slytherin from the school.”

During his lecture, Professor Binns paused momentarily, his lips pursed and his appearance resembling a wrinkled old tortoise.

“According to reliable historical sources, this is the information that has been shared with us,” he mentioned. 

“However, the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets has overshadowed these honest facts. It is believed that Slytherin, one of the Hogwarts founders, created a concealed chamber within the castle, keeping it a secret from the rest.”

“The Chamber of Secrets, as the legend goes, was sealed by Slytherin so that it could only be opened by his true heir when they eventually came to the school. Then, they would release the beast within. Only the heir possesses the ability to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, release the terrifying entity trapped inside, and utilize it to cleanse the school from those deemed unworthy of practicing magic.”

An uncommon stillness permeated the room as he concluded his storytelling, creating a silence that sharply contrasted with the usual lethargic hush that settled over Professor Binns’s classroom. Everyone felt uneasy as they kept their eyes fixed on him, eagerly anticipating something more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

With a hint of disbelief, he stated, “It’s obvious that the whole thing is pure nonsense. The most knowledgeable witches and wizards have thoroughly searched the school countless times, all hoping to find evidence of such a chamber. It is a figment of the imagination. A chilling tale spun to terrify those easily swayed by superstition.“

Hermione eagerly raised her hand again, hoping to catch the teacher’s attention.

“Excuse me, sir,” she inquired, “could you elaborate on the nature of the ‘beast within’ the Chamber?”

With his dry, reedy voice, Professor Binns described, “The creature is a monstrous being, believed to be under the control of only the Heir of Slytherin.”

Nervousness spread among the class as they exchanged apprehensive glances.

“It simply does not exist,” said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. “There is no monster, no heir, and no Chamber of Secrets.”

“But, sir,” Seamus Finnigan interjected, “if only Slytherin’s true heir can open the Chamber, then it would be impossible for anyone else to discover it, right?”

“Nonsense, O’Flaherty,” said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. “If the thing has remained hidden from numerous Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses —”

“He made a right bag of my name, didn't he?” said Seamus. 

Even though they had already attempted to inquire further, they were still trying to ask Professor Binns more questions.

“Professor,” Parvati Patil piped up, a note of uncertainty in her tone, “I suppose one would have to try Dark Magic to access it, wouldn’t they?”

“Miss Pennyfeather I will remind you that even if a wizard doesn’t actively employ Dark Magic, it doesn’t imply that they cannot do so. Let me emphasize this point again: if a figure like Dumbledore —”

Dean Thomas suggested, “But maybe you’ve got to be related to Slytherin,” before Professor Binns interrupted him abruptly.

“That will do,” he said, his tone sharp and commanding. “It is a myth!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief. “There is no trace of its existence! Not even the tiniest piece of evidence exists to support the claim that Slytherin ever built more than a concealed storage space! I deeply regret sharing such a foolish tale with you! Let us now turn our attention back to history, where we can find concrete, credible, and provable truths.”

“Well, I would like to say thank you, Professor Dustbin, for that story,” Kellah announced.

“What did you call me Miss Delores?”

“I called you Professor Dustbin since you gave us all nicknames. It only seemed right.”

“Yes—uh—nicknames well, back to the lesson, ahem.”

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

“I never doubted that he was utterly bonkers. Salazar Slytherin was always a bit of a nutter,” Ron commented to them as they navigated through the crowded corridors, rushing off their bags before dinner. “But I never knew he was behind all this pure-blood heritage mumbo jumbo. I wouldn’t be in his house if you paid me. To be honest, if the Sorting Hat had even considered assigning me to Slytherin, I would have hightailed it out of there.”

Hermione nodded fervently, the determination in her expression contrasting with Harry’s silence.

 Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over Kellah as her stomach plummeted.“They're not all bad. Theo Nott is Slytherin, and he seems alright.”

“Wow, one, but I bet he would still call you a Mudblood,”Ron said.

As they were shunted along in the crowd, Colin Creevy went past. “Harry, did you—”

“No, Colin, he's not the heir of Slytherin, and here is your camera back.” Kellah shoved it at him.

“Why is it so small?” Colin asked, examining it.

“I made it travel size. Engorgio .”

Colin wanted to say more, but Kellah and Ron shooed him away.

Harry turned to her. “What did you need his camera for exactly?”

“To take pictures, Harry,”she stuck out her tongue.

“Well, where are the pictures?” said Ron.

“Yes, let’s see then,” said Hermione.

Kellah shrugged. “Sent them to my parents.”

“That's rich coming from you,” said Hermione.

Kellah would not tell them about Lockhart, not yet, and as long as she kept an eye on him, things would be alright. Besides, she could always go to Dumbledore. “I wanted them to see Hogwarts, hoping it would change their mind about the school.”

“They have as much chance of changing their mind as the Dursleys do,” said Harry.

Just as he finished speaking, they turned a corner and came face-to-face with the exact spot where the attack had unfolded. Bringing their movement to a standstill, they directed their attention towards the sight before them. As she gazed upon the familiar setting, she couldn’t help but notice that everything seemed unchanged from that eerie night, except for one peculiar detail: the stiff cat was nowhere to be found on the torch bracket. In its place, a vacant chair stood against the wall, bearing the bone-chilling inscription, “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened.”

“Filch has been keeping guard, but he’s not here,” Ron muttered.

Their gaze locked, and an understanding passed between them. The corridor was eerily silent, not a soul in sight.

“No harm in looking,” Harry mused, placing his bag on the ground and adopting a crawling position to examine the surroundings for any potential clues carefully.

“Scorch marks!” he said. “Here,” he pointed to the left, “and here,” he gestured to the right.

“You have to come over here and see this!” Hermione called out, beckoning them closer. “This is rather odd...”

Kellah got up with Harry and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. At the topmost pane, Hermione’s finger aimed at a small crack, through which around twenty spiders were engaged in a fierce battle, to squeeze through a tiny hole in the wall. As if they had all rushed to get outside, a long, silvery thread hung in the air, resembling a dangling rope. When Kellah looked closer, they went into a frenzy to escape her.

“Have you ever observed spiders do this?” said Hermione wonderingly.

“No,” said Harry, “have you, Ron? Ron?”

Curiosity getting the better of her, Kellah turned her head to look behind her. Ron stood at a safe distance, his body tense with the struggle to resist the urge to flee.

“What’s happening?” said Harry.

“Spiders,” Ron said tensely, his dislike clear in his voice. “Don’t like the buggers.”

“That’s curious. I never knew,” Hermione said, her eyebrows raised as she looked at Ron in astonishment. “You’re no stranger to incorporating spiders into your potions,” she commented, recalling her experience.

Ron, deliberately averting his eyes from the window, casually mentioned, “Alive, bothers me, dead not so much. All those eyes and the way their legs move, ugh disgusting...”

A soft giggle escaped Hermione’s lips, adding a touch of joy to the atmosphere.

“It’s not funny,” said Ron fiercely. “When I was three, Fred played a cruel prank on me. He took my beloved teddy bear and magically turned it into a hideous, hairy spider. All because I accidentally broke his toy broomstick. I can still remember the fear as I held the creature in my hands instead of my teddy.”

Shuddering, he abruptly stopped speaking. Hermione’s face contorted as she struggled to suppress her laughter. 

Trying to change the topic, Harry spoke up, “Why is there water on the floor?” Urging them to remember. Surprised, Harry asked them, “Where did that come from?” As he scanned the surroundings for clues. “It looks like someone had mopped it all up.”

Pointing a few paces past Filch’s chair, Ron confidently stated, “It was over here level with this door.”As he extended his hand towards the brass doorknob, he quickly pulled it back as if it had been scorched.

“What’s wrong?” said Harry.

In a gruff voice, Ron stated, “You can’t go there. It’s a restroom for girls.”

Hermione reassured Ron, “No one will be inside. That’s Moaning Myrtle’s place. Let’s have a look. Come on.”

Disregarding the prominent OUT OF ORDER sign, she opened the door.

The bathroom Kellah stepped into was the epitome of gloom and despair, leaving her feeling utterly disheartened. Underneath a large, cracked, and spotted mirror, there were several chipped sinks lined up in a row. As she walked on the damp floor, she could see the faint glow of the dying candles, their feeble light barely illuminating the space. The wooden doors to the stalls were worn down, with flakes of paint peeling off and deep scratches etched into the surface. One door even hung precariously from its loose hinges. Stepping into it, she couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, like a dream she couldn’t quite remember, but she knew it held some importance.

Hermione pressed her fingers to her lips, a gesture that carried a sense of determination, before heading towards the end stall. Upon reaching Myrtle, she greeted her with a friendly hello and asked, “How are you doing, Myrtle?”

Harry and Ron went to look, their eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement. Floating above the tank of the toilet, Myrtle moaned softly as she absentmindedly picked at a spot on her chin.

“Merlin's beard a ghost. I want an ectoplasm sample. Never been this close to one.”

She ignored Kellah and looked at the boys.

Casting a suspicious glance at Ron and Harry, Myrtle declared, “This is a girls’ bathroom.” 

“Yes, of course,” Hermione agreed. “I just wanted to show them how, um, pleasant it is in here.”

Myrtle half-heartedly waved at the smudged, antique mirror and the cold, damp floor.

“Ask her if she's seen anything, anything at all, “Harry mouthed at Hermione.

“What are you whispering about?” said Myrtle, staring at him.

Myrtle’s incessant talking faded into the background as Kellah’s primary concern became getting a sample. Amidst Myrtle’s scolding of the boys, she deftly procured a vial and obtained a sample of ectoplasm. Until Myrtle's cries disturbed her and Kellah couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease, thinking she might have unintentionally hurt her.

A sorrowful cry escaped Myrtle’s lips as she lifted off the ground, rotated in mid-air, and descended headfirst into the toilet. Water sprayed everywhere, drenching those around her, and she vanished from sight. The sound of her sobs could still be heard, indicating that she had settled somewhere in the U-bend.

“My robes,” Kellah cried out.

Their mouths agape, Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances as Hermione, with a weary expression, shrugged and commented, “Myrtle was actually having a sort of good day. Well, off we go.”

No sooner had Kellah closed the door on Myrtle’s gurgling sobs than a sudden, loud voice startled all four of them.

“RON!”

At the head of the stairs, Percy Weasley stood motionless, his Prefect badge shining brightly, his face a picture of sheer astonishment.

“That’s the girls’ lavatory!” A gasp escaped from his lips. “What were you doing?” 

“Just having a lo—-” 

“We were taking a slash. It is the toilet. You want me to piss myself,” said Kellah.

Percy's neck has turned red Kellah had a feeling Mrs. Weasley would do the same. “There are other bathrooms for that,” he yelled.

“Well, a lady's time of the month waits for no one,” Kellah said.

“Move—now!” Perry hurriedly approached them, flapping his arms and urging them to move away from there. “Aren’t you concerned about the visual impression this gives? Coming back here while everyone’s at dinner —”

“Is there a reason we’re not supposed to be here?” he questioned. Ron hotly, stopping short, glared at Percy. “Listen,” he pleaded, “we never even touched that cat!”

“That’s what I told Ginny,” Percy said, his tone intense. “But she still seems to believe you’ll be expelled. I’ve never seen her so distraught, sobbing uncontrollably. It’s important to think about how this is affecting her. The first years are all completely worked up because of this ordeal.”

Ron’s ears reddened as he accused, “Don’t pretend you care about Ginny. You’re just worried I will mess up your chances of being Head Boy — since I already messed up your chance as captain of the wizard’s chess club.”

“Five points from Gryffindor!” Percy shouted, his fingers unconsciously toying with his prefect badge. “And I hope it serves as a valuable learning experience for you! Or I’ll write to Mum!” he threatened, his eyes narrowing with a hint of mischief. 

“Tattle tail,” Ron yelled.

As Percy walked away, his neck turned a deeper shade of red, mirroring the intensity of Ron’s flushed ears.

They made a point to distance themselves from Percy in the common room that night, with Kellah, Harry, Ron, and Hermione choosing seats at the opposite end of the room. Frustration consumed Ron as he angrily blotted his Charms homework, unable to concentrate. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, a sudden burst of flames engulfed the parchment. Ron’s frustration reached a boiling point as he forcefully closed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two, the loud thud resonating. Much to Kellah’a surprise, Hermione followed his lead.

“Who can it be, though?” Speaking softly, she continued as if they had never stopped conversing, maintaining the same tone of voice. “What kind of person would intentionally frighten the Muggle-borns away from Hogwarts?” she asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Let’s take a moment,” Ron suggested with a playful expression of puzzlement. “Can you think of anyone who views Muggle-borns as scum?”

His gaze shifted towards Hermione, fixating on her. Hermione looked back, unconvinced. “If you’re referring to Malfoy —”

“I reckon I am!” said Ron. “The entire school heard him that night — ‘You’ll be next, Mudbloods! Just one glance at his hideous rat face, and you’ll know it’s him,” he said with certainty.

“Malfoy, the heir, really now?” said Hermione skeptically.

“I don't think he's clever enough,” said Kellah.

“You only need to look at his family to tell,” said Harry, closing his books, too. “Every single one of them has been sorted into Slytherin. He never misses an opportunity to boast about it. They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants. There was no question about it - his father is undeniably wicked.”

“For centuries, they could have possessed the key to the Chamber of Secrets!” said Ron. “Father to son, the tradition was passed down through generations.”

Hermione cautiously acknowledged, “I suppose there’s a chance...”

“But how do we back it up?” said Harry darkly.

“You get more bees with honey. I could talk to him when we play chess," said Kellah.

Hermione spoke slowly, her voice lowering even further as she glanced discreetly at Percy across the room. “Perhaps there is another solution. But it won't be easy, and it’s quite dangerous, of course. I expect we’d be breaking about fifty school rules.”

“Please tell us it, after a month or so, you feel inclined to explain, won’t you?” said Ron irritably.

“All right,” said Hermione coldly. “Our plan is to discreetly enter the Slytherin common room and interrogate Malfoy without arousing suspicion.“

“Not possible,” Harry said as Ron laughed.

“Not possible in a world with magic, Harry. I mean, really,” said Kellah.

“Just a small vial of Polyjuice Potion would do the trick,” said Hermione.

“Which is?” said Ron and Harry together.

“Snape brought it up during one of his class lectures a few weeks ago.”

“We have better things to do than listen to Snape?” muttered Ron.

“Like making paper birds with magic,” Kellah asked. “And like I said, we have a wizard’s chess club. We can ask Malfoy.”

Hermione shrugged her suggestion off. “Malfoy probably only tells people from his house.” She sighed. “And Polyjuice Potion has the power to turn you into a distinct individual. Consider it!” She said flashing her hands. “We could disguise ourselves as four of the Slytherins. Our true identities would remain completely concealed. We can count on Malfoy to spill the beans and give us all the information we want. Right now, he’s likely bragging about it in the Slytherin common room.”

“Sounds a bit dodgy to me,” said Ron, frowning. “Imagine if we were stuck looking like Crabbe or something forever,” he pondered.

Waving impatiently, Hermione remarked, “It doesn’t last forever. Getting the recipe won't be easy. Snape mentioned it can be found in a book named Moste Potente Potions, likely located in the Restricted Section of the library. “

“If we weren’t planning to make one of the potions in that book,” Ron said, “it would be difficult to understand why we would even want it.”

“I believe,” Hermione proposed, “that if we approach it as it for theory basis only, we might have a shot... Besides, nobody expects a second-year student to accomplish it.”

“I don't think a second year can, but if anyone could, it's you and Kellah,”Harry nodded as Ron finished.

“I have the recipe,” said Kellah. “Not the book, though. I'm sure it works.”

“See what I mean,” said Ron.

Hermione folded her arms. “And how is that?”

“Because I read the book, and I'm best at Potions.”

“We’ll go with my plan,” said Hermione. “I want the physical book so there can be no mistakes.”

Ron rolled his eyes, dismissing the idea. “No way any teacher would buy into that,” he said. “Unless they're really thick.”

“I think we know one,” said Kellah.

Chapter Text

After the incident with the pixies, Professor Lockhart had become cautious and decided to forgo bringing live creatures to class. Instead, he engaged them in the world of literature, sharing excerpts from his books and occasionally performing dramatic reenactments of key moments. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions. Kellah was convinced that the purpose was to embarrass Harry in front of the entire class, as he never seemed to play the hero and was constantly defeated by Lockhart. 

Throughout several plays, Harry’s acting skills were put to the test as he was made to portray unique characters. Initially, he played the role of a simple Transylvanian villager who had been cured of a Babbling Curse by Lockhart. Later, he had to embody a yeti with a head cold and, finally, a vampire who could only eat lettuce due to Lockhart’s intervention. It was quite convenient that Lockhart had successfully cured all of them. 

 During their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry was hauled to the front of the class once again, but this time, he was assigned the role of a werewolf. If Lockhart continued in this manner, Harry had the potential to become a talented actor, perhaps even a child actor. Well, he was already being exploited. He was doing all this for a permission slip to the restriction section when Kellah knew the recipe. She had even made it and transformed into Pansy, but she couldn't tell them. 

They don't value your opinion. They would rather listen to Hermione.

As Kellah opened her diary and poised her quill, the world around her seemed to fade away, leaving only the words on the page.

And so she did. Armed with her memory and a diary, she meticulously documented everything she knew about Harry. No one learned anything in Defense Against The Dark Arts anyway, so she occupied herself by diligently jotting down her thoughts throughout the class. 

Kellah stopped when she heard laughter. Lockhart’s coaching of Harry drew laughter from the class as they watched another performance. Kevin Ethwhistle laughed the hardest he always did.

One hand firmly pinned Harry to the ground while the other waved a wand threateningly close to his throat. That is if you considered Lockhart a threat.

“I have an interesting homework assignment - create a poem detailing how I conquered the fearsome Wagga Wagga Werewolf! The author of the best entry will receive signed copies of Magical Me as a prize!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the students gathered their things and prepared to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where he found them patiently waiting for him. Kellah, not so much patience.

“Everyone ready?” Harry muttered.

“Not yet. Wait for everyone to clear off,” said Hermione nervously. “All right then...”

Leading the way, Hermione walked up to Lockhart’s desk, gripping a piece of paper, with Harry and Ron beside her. Keeping a watchful eye on Lockhart, Kellah trailed behind them.

“Um— Professor?” Hermione stammered. “I wish to — to check this book out —out of the library. Purely for academic purposes, of course.” Her hand trembled as she held out the piece of paper. “However, the catch is that it’s located in the Restricted Section of the library, which means I require a teacher’s endorsement to access it—I believe it would provide valuable insights into the subject of gradual-acting toxins mentioned in Gadding with Ghouls.”

“Ah, yes, one of my best-selling books, Gadding with Ghouls!” Grinning from ear to ear, Lockhart happily accepted the note from Hermione’s outstretched hand. “The book is quite possibly my absolute favorite. But there are so many to choose from. Did you enjoy it?” Despite talking to Hermione, his attention continuously strayed towards Kellah, unable to tear his eyes away from her. 

Hermione eagerly nodded and exclaimed, “Oh, yes!” as a smile spread across her face. “The way you outsmarted the last one with the tea strainer was awe-inspiring,” she praised.

As Lockhart spoke, his tone radiated warmth, “Well, I’m sure not a soul will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help.” Just as his hand was about to make contact with Hermione’s shoulder, his attention was drawn to Kellah’s piercing glare. Sensing the tension, he swiftly withdrew his hand and produced an enormous peacock quill instead. 

“You seem to give a lot of extra help,” Kellah whispered.

Lockhart was ignoring her or had not heard Kellah. “It's rather nice, isn’t it?” he said, oblivious to the disgusted expression on Ron’s face. “Normally, I save it for book signings, but for dear Hermione, this seemed quite right.” His signature on the note was a grand display of loops and swirls, making it impossible to miss.

“So, Harry,” Lockhart said as Hermione struggled to fold the note and clumsily placed it inside her bag. “If I’m not mistaken, tomorrow is the first Quidditch match of the season. Isn’t it Gryffindor against Slytherin?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I hear you’re somewhat of a useful player, Seeker, in fact. Did you know I was a Seeker, too? I was personally asked to be a member of the National Squad, but my calling was the eradication of Dark Forces. Nevertheless, if you ever feel the desire for some private training, feel free to reach out. I am always happy to share my expertise with those less capable than me.”

“More private lessons?” Kellah said, arms folded.

A faint sound escaped Harry’s throat before he hastened after Ron and Hermione.

“Don't you want to catch up with your friends?” Lockhart said, making an audible gulp.

“But Gilderoy, I would rather catch up with you.” As she sat on his desk, she calmly swept her hand across the papers, causing them to tumble onto the floor while she spoke. “Like that poem, I refuse to write it. And also give Hermione that signed book as a prize.”

“Precisely. Why would I do that? It’s against the rules,” he said in a hushed, angry tone.

By curling her finger in a “come hither” gesture, she invited him to come closer. Making his way towards his desk, he took a few steps and then stooped down to meet her gaze. “I understand, but didn't you break the rules by seducing me?”

“I’m beginning to suspect that it was you who seduced me,” he murmured, even quieter.

In a quiet and intimate moment, Kellah softly spoke into his ear. “You're right, but who will Dumbledore and the school governors believe?” With a sudden burst of passion, she clamped down on his ear. The taste of blood filled her mouth. “Now, if you can look past this, so can I.”

“Perhaps I can,” he said with a pained moan, his hand cradling his injured ear.

Kellah leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. “Good,” she exclaimed, giving his hair a quick ruffle before leaping off the desk and skipping away.

She caught up with her friends as they whispered in the corridor.

“Unbelievable,” Harry said as they examined the signature on the note. “He didn’t even look at it, just signed the thing.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ron muttered, “He’s nothing more than a mindless git. At least he signed it. That’s all that matters—”

“Is not,” said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library.

“Is too,” cried Ron.“Just because he said you were the best student of the year —”

 Kellah scoffed at that.

Upon entering the library, they instinctively lowered their voices, aware of the quiet stillness surrounding them. The librarian, Madam Pince, appeared like an underfed vulture with her thin physique and a perpetually sour expression.

“Moste Potente Potions, what a peculiar book for second years?” Suspicion laced her voice as she repeated the words, desperately attempting to snatch the note from Hermione’s grasp.

“Can I—can I keep it?” she said breathlessly.

“Stop it, Hermione,” Ron interjected, forcefully prying it out of her hands and offering it to Madam Pince. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you another autograph,” he said, determined to make it happen. “Lockhart’ll sign anything.”

Holding the note up to the light, Madam Pince examined it meticulously, her determined gaze looking for any signs of deceit, yet it passed her inspection. Quietly, she retreated into the library's depths, disappearing behind the rows of towering bookshelves. Minutes passed, and then she emerged, cradling a worn and damp-smelling book in her arms. Hermione carefully tucked it into her bag, their hurried steps betraying their attempt to conceal their guilt.

It didn’t take long for them to end up back in Moaning Myrtle’s out-of-order bathroom, where they were once again barricaded just five minutes later.

Hermione skillfully persuaded Ron by pointing out that it was a location where no rational person would ever venture, assuring them of privacy. Ignoring the loud cries coming from Moaning Myrtle’s stall, they remained indifferent to her distress, just as she remained indifferent to their presence. Just as Kellah thought, no one cared about ghosts.

The book Moste Potente Potions was opened by Hermione in a careful manner, and then the four of them huddled together, leaning over the pages that were spotted with dampness. A mere glance was all it took to understand why it was deemed necessary to include it in the Restricted Section. The potions available for examination had ghastly effects that were difficult to even fathom. Adding to the unpleasantness were the illustrations that accompanied them, depicting a man who had been grotesquely turned inside out, as well as a witch with an inexplicable growth of several extra pairs of arms on her head. Kellah documented everything.

“This is it,” said Hermione excitedly as she found the page-headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Kellah sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces.

“This is the most complicated potion I’ve ever seen,” said Hermione as they scanned the recipe.

“The most complicated potion you’ve seen so far.” Kellah’s eyes narrowed with intensity as Hermione shot her a piercing glare.

“Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass,” Murmuring, she traced her finger down the list of ingredients. 

“The lacewings intertwined, symbolizing the union of two identities. Leeches extract the essence from one to the other. Fluxweed embodies the paradox of change,” Kellah said, longing to feel the potions book between her fingertips.

“Really, Kellah,” Hermione said. “I'm reading.”

“Well, read quietly to yourself. Use the narrator in your head.”

“Alright then, the peanut gallery can make commentary. Now everything should be in the student store cupboard. And, of course, help ourselves in the process. Getting that bicorn will be quite a challenge, and the same goes for the shredded skin of a boomslang—”

—“Knotgrass signifies being bound to another person. Bicorn for duality. Boomslang is shedding its outer body for a new one.”

“Will you stop interrupting?” Hermione yelled.

“I'm analyzing the ingredients, trying to understand how to create potions. It's not all logic and following instructions,” Kellah shouted back.

“No girls keep fighting, Ron, and I don't want to hear the last ingredient,” Harry said sarcastically. 

“As I was saying…Then it looks like we need a few bits of the person we wish to transform into.”

“I thought I heard wrong?” said Ron sharply. “What d’you mean, a bit of whoever we’re changing into? You're making me drink a Crabbe toenail cocktail—”

Hermione continued as though she hadn’t heard him.

“Let’s not stress about that for now,” Harry suggested, causing Ron to turn towards him with a speechless expression. Despite Harry’s reassurance, Ron still had another worried look.

Ron cleared his throat.“Ya know we're gonna have to steal loads of shit, Hermione? Boomslang's shredded skin is not in the students’ cupboard. Shall we break into Snape’s private stores? That sounds like a clever idea, not...” 

Hermione shut the book with a snap.

“Well, if you three are going to back down, fine,” she said. Her cheeks had bright pink patches, and her eyes were unusually bright. With a cautious tone, she admitted, “Breaking rules is something I’d rather avoid, you know. Brewing a difficult potion is not as bad as threatening Muggleborns. I’ll return the book to Madam Pince if you don’t want to find out if it’s Malfoy.”

“Hermione, you break the rules all the time in the most lawful way, especially if you don't agree with a teacher about grades,”Kellah pointed out.

Hermione looked like a frog wascaught in her throat. “That was one time.”

“One time so far,” Kellah corrected.

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be persuading us to break rules,” said Ron. “All right, we’ll do it. But not toenails, okay?”

“Fine dead skin then,” Kellah winked.

“Ugh, how long will it take to make, anyway?” said Harry as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again.

“Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I’d say it’d be ready in about a month if we can get all the ingredients.”

“A month?” said Ron. “Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!” But Hermione’s eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, “But it’s the best plan we’ve got, so full steam ahead, I say.”

“Actually, I have all the ingredients. But it would be best to do it at Christmas so everyone is gone. And someone will have to convince Malfoy to stay,” Kellah said.

“Why do you have all the ingredients?” Harry asked.

“Because I'm a connoisseur of rare potion items. I even have unicorn blood.”

“WHAT,” said Ron.

“To look at, not to use. Like a rare collectible that stays in an ivory box,” Kellah said.

“I think I get it. It's a prized possession like my Nimbus 2000. A creepy one, though I bet you'd rip the wigs off a butterfly,” said Harry.

“Off a fairy, yes,” said Kellah. They looked at her, appalled. “They grow back.”

“Let me guess, it's an ingredient for a potion,” Ron said.

“Some potions weren't meant to be brewed,” said Harry.

“Enough. Are we doing this or not? I'm risking expulsion. We all are,” said Hermione. 

“We’re in,” they said in unison.

As Hermione cautiously surveyed their surroundings to ensure they could leave the bathroom unnoticed, Ron quietly suggested to Harry, “Knocking Malfoy off his broom tomorrow would save us a lot of trouble.”

“Thinking of using Veriaserum while he’s out of it, smart,” said Kellah.

“That takes ages, just like brewing the Polyjuice potion,” Hermione said.

“One potion at a time, please,” said Harry.

They spent the evening together, and the common room hummed with people mingling and music playing. Ginny had a record playing, the music of Nirvana, a favorite among the Muggleborns. It was a gift from Kevin Entwhistle, a boy who knew her taste well. Maybe a little too well.

 As soon as the music started, everyone else instinctively covered their ears. Fred snatched the record and precisely chucked it, aiming directly at Kevin. Exploding with a confetti-like burst, it created a spectacle of colors, and George handed Kevin a confetti spellotaped record. 

 Suddenly, Percy’s hand shot out, throwing a gift towards Ron, causing the room to erupt in excitement. “Here for you from mum and dad.”

Curious onlookers crowded around, eager to see what his gift was.

“I hope it’s not another howler,” Ron said. As a result, more and more people gathered around.

“Open it,” Harry shouted.

Opening it, he was pleasantly surprised to discover a lamp inside, adorned with a cozy that someone had carefully knitted.

“That really is an unusual gift, Ron,” said Hermione.

“It really is something,” Ron said.

Percy wagged a finger. “You should be grateful mum knitted that for you.”

“Well, I’m taking it to bed then.”

Ron hurriedly got up and intentionally left his lamp behind, as it hopped after him. “Do your homework!” Startled, he heard a yell that mimicked his mother’s voice.

“Stop following me,” Ron said, his breath labored as he raced up the stairs. People couldn’t help but laugh as he sprinted by. Percy nodded, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Maybe he’ll do his homework now,” said Hermione.

“Knowing Ron,” Harry said, “he’ll do it less out of spite.”

Kellah responded simply, “I can see that,” accompanied by a knowing smile.

Saturday morning, Kellah woke up early and lay in bed, contemplating the upcoming Quidditch match. A smile spread across her face as she realized she could attend the school event without the burden of a costume or a school uniform. 

As she looked through the clothes Malfoy had given her over the summer, she couldn’t help but notice the luxurious fabrics and stylish designs. She had saved a few of them from ending up in the trash, and out of her mum’s hands thanks to her quick thinking. Everywhere she looked, there were displays of exquisite leather and silk. She picked a crop top that made a statement and became her signature look. 

Seeing a loose fingernail, Kellah’s immediate reaction was to tug on it, and to her horror, it revealed a gruesome, mangled finger. The complete detachment of her fingernail exposed a raw and sensitive finger, prompting her to seek a plant spell for healing. As a result, a fresh and vibrant green nail grew in its place. 

To conceal her acne, she wore a bucket hat that shielded her dying hair. Hoping to find a solution for her acne, she started testing out various makeup options, but to her disappointment, she found that it only made the problem more severe.

Surrendering to the reality that this was the best she could hope for, she sprayed the Angel perfume Malfoy had given her, enveloping herself in its sweet and intoxicating scent. Kellah delicately painted the number seven on her face, a tribute to Harry. She adorned herself with a vibrant red headband under her bucket hat with a custom-made number 7 patch crafted by Hermione. It wasn't the finest quality, but she had done her best. 

In front of Hermione’s dresser, she saw a collection of neatly arranged books and trinkets. No matter how hard she tried, the dresser remained stubbornly closed as if under a spell. When she used Alohomora to open the drawer, she heard a faint creak as it budged slightly, only to shut again quickly. She hastily grabbed hold of some clothes seconds before the drawer nearly slammed shut on her new fingernail. It was the magic of the castle. Exasperated, she rolled her eyes before choosing an outfit for Hermione. A cardigan and jeans because Hermione wouldn't wear a skirt. 

Jumping onto Hermione’s bed, she accidentally knocked a book that had been resting on the bed, causing it to flop onto the floor. Hermione woke with a deep inhale and coughed. “Don’t do that.”

“I do what I want.” She threw the clothes at Hermione’s face. “Now wear this.”

“I'm not wearing that. It's ghastly, and the shirt is too tight.”

Showing her displeasure, Kellah crossed her arms in a gesture of defiance. “That’s alright. Your boobs are too small to fill it out, anyway.”

“I'm sorry I'm not constantly outgrowing my bra and getting uni-boob.”

Clutching at her chest, Kellah felt her heart racing. Did she not cast Reducio correctly when she enlarged her breast to trap Lockhart? She didn't think they had gotten that big, although she put a spell on her bras to grow with her since her parents were such cheap asses. “Shut it and get dressed,” she said, crossing her arms to cover her breast. 

The blaring sound of Layla’s alarm caused Kellah to storm out in frustration. As she walked out, Lavender growling in anger reached her ears. 

Few people were up this early. In the common room, she caught sight of Dean diligently creating posters. It said:

Gryffindor is number one. Slytherin is surely done.

Kellah plopped down next to him. “Is there a poster for me?” she said, poking his dimple.

Their hands met, and Dean’s touch sent a comforting sensation up her arm. “I always make one just for you.” He held it up. “I finished it last night.”

The sign said:

Malfoy’s not gallant; money can't buy talent.

Kellah looked at it and sighed. “I don't think I can use this sign.”

“Why not? He called you and Hermione Mudbloods and bought his way on the Slytherin team.”

She couldn’t say because whenever he spoke, his voice melted her like ice cream. It was only in their moments of solitude that he showed her his true, kind nature. Beneath all the bravado, there was a tender-hearted boy whose biggest fear was disappointing his parents. 

“It’s alright. Malfoy deserved it.” But she didn't feel that way. 

“Hey,” Dean said, holding something out to her. “I made something else for you.” A ballerina appeared in his hand.“ A replacement for your broken one. Hermione told me about it.”

Kellah embraced it, feeling its importance and holding it close to her heart. “Thanks, it's beautiful.” She was a little annoyed that Hermione had noticed something like that, though. 

“I can help you install it,” he said. The memories of Malfoy’s letters flooded back to Kellah as she thought about the box. 

She shook her head. “No, I got it, thanks.”

He then held her hand and looked at it. “What's wrong with your thumb?”

“Oh, spell gone wrong in the Greenhouse, no biggie.”

“Well, you always had a green thumb.”

She withdrew her hand from his and slipped the ballerina into her pocket. Later, she planned to repair the old one, making it as good as new. 

Kellah and Dean walked down to the stands together, the surrounding silence broken only by the distant roar of the crowd. Before it started, they secured some prime seats with a splendid view. Being among the first to arrive, they had their pick of the best spots. 

Charity Burbage, the Professor of Muggle Studies, was in charge of the concession stand they visited. 

“Ooh, Muggleborns, so what would like dearies?” she said smiling. She opened a box. “Might I suggest Laffy Taffy? They actually laugh.”

As she picked them up, one of them clutched onto her hand and started giggling. 

“Oh, a box of those we can share,” Dean said. “How much?”

“I would love to say free since this is sponsored by Honeydukes, one for a sickle, fifteen for a galleon,” Professor Burbage said.

With a gentle gesture, he placed a galleon in the professor’s outstretched hand, the clink of the coin echoing in the air. And Kellah eagerly grabbed the box of Laffy Taffy, unable to resist its colorful and enticing packaging. 

They sat down, and Ron and Hermione joined them. Ron reached over and grabbed a Laffy Taffy. “I always wanted to try this.”

He gnawed on it fiercely, his teeth crunching, loudly. “Chew with your mouth closed,” said Hermione.

“Oi, tomorrow we have chess practice. Tell me you've been practicing, mate,” Ron said to Dean, ignoring Hermione.

Dean looked at Kellah. “Yeah, I’ve been practicing.”

Seamus squeezed in by Dean. “We’re sitting here. Are we, and why do you leave so early, mate?”

Dean’s gaze shifted back to Kellah, studying her features once more. “The signs.” He held up his and then placed it back down.

Ginny quietly joined Hermione, slipping in next to her with a small smile on her face. “Could I sit with you guys?”

“Don’t you have friends?” said Ron.

Ginny stood up. “You’re such a git, Ron.” 

She quickly dashed over to Kevin Entwhistle and plopped down beside him, just in time to see him toss a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean. Ginny skillfully caught it in her mouth. Colin Creevy’s shutter clicked as he captured a picture, immortalizing the sight for all to see. 

Kevin’s proximity to Ginny was becoming uncomfortably close. Ron craned his neck to glimpse Ginny, laughing with Luna and Kevin. “Looks like Ginny did join Harry’s fan club, but who is that prat next to her?”

“That’s Kevin Enthwistle. He’s a Ravenclaw in our year and takes Defense Against The Dark Arts with us,” Hermione said.

“You know I don't pay attention in that class,” Ron said, swinging his Laffy Taffy. “What’s he doing talking to Ginny?”

“He probably fancies her,” Kellah said, annoyed. “You didn’t care where she sat a minute ago.”

Ron shot up and hurriedly went over to his brother Percy, whispering urgently and gesturing towards Ginny. Percy settled himself between Ginny and Kevin. Kellah was fed up with guys constantly trying to cozy up to Ginny. Among the group, Lockhart stood out as a mere man-child, lacking the maturity of his peers. Ginny wasn't old enough to date anyway and wasn't wise enough yet not to fall for boys’ tricks, but Kellah was different. She would help her.

Not paying attention, Ron returned and lightly tapped Dean’s cheek with the Laffy Taffy, creating a comical sound. “Harry’s about to play. Get your signs up.”

As the hands of the clock pointed to eleven, the once spacious area quickly became packed with people. The rest of the school, a colorful mass of students, formed a lively procession down to the Quidditch stadium. 

“We wished Harry good luck before in the locker room, but he clearly doesn't need it,” said Hermione.

On the ground, both the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were eagerly waiting for Madam Hooch to arrive.

“On my whistle,” said Madam Hooch. “Three... two...” The shrill sound of the whistle filled the air, marking the beginning of the game.

Following that, the teams quickly sped up and started moving upwards. Rising toward the sky, the fourteen players became mere specks in the vast expanse. But the only thing Kellah wanted to focus on was Malfoy. Not Harry, which worried her. Unsure of which side to support, she found herself torn between the competing teams. 

Kellah mirrored Dean’s actions, raising her sign in unity, their determination clear in their synchronized movements. 

Rain fell, and she could feel the cool droplets landing on her skin. With a flick of her wand, Hermione conjured an umbrella, ready to shield them from the impending rain. Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up and began casting a spell, his wand moving gracefully through the air. The stands were all equipped with shields to keep the water at bay. Kellah observed the mesmerizing sight of water droplets gliding down the shield, leaving behind a trail of moisture. Placing her hand in the water, she followed the mesmerizing patterns of ripples it created. 

Dean placed his rough, calloused hand beside hers, contrasting with her soft, delicate fingers. Their fingertips grazed each other as Draco soared over the stands. 

In his usual fashion, he couldn’t resist teasing Harry. Everywhere Harry went, it seemed as if a bludger was hot on his trail, ready to strike at any moment. There was a part of her that should have been worried, but an inner voice whispered, Now, this is a good game. It felt unfamiliar like a hidden longing existed for Harry to suffer. She was utterly baffled by it. 

“I think the bludgers gone rogue,” said Kellah.

Binoculars in hand, Hermione scanned the horizon, adjusting to get a closer look. “Oh no, not again.”

Despite Harry’s attempt to escape, the bludger relentlessly chased after him, its speed impossible to outrun. The adults remained oblivious to its pursuit.

Lee Jordanannounced. “Slytherin leading sixty to zero thanks to their new Seeker, who bought his way on the team.”

“LEE JORDAN ,” yelled McGonagall.

“Sorry, Professor, I tell it like it is.”

In a display of unwavering loyalty and brotherly love, Fred and George positioned themselves near Harry, ensuring his safety by guarding him against the relentless bludger. Occasionally, Draco would make an appearance and mock him in jest.

Harry’s unexpected request for a time out caught everyone off guard, especially Oliver Wood, who appeared furious in response. 

As Gryffindor enjoyed their break, they observed the bludger appeared to be perfectly fine. The Bludger remained inactive and caused no disturbance. 

With a shrill blast of her whistle, Madam Hooch signaled the resumption of the game, causing the bludger to set its sights on Harry once again.It went unnoticed by everyone as if it had never happened. 

“I can’t believe it the second year in a row. That’s bad luck, that is,” Ron said with a full mouth.

“Spot on,” said Seamus. 

Dean rolled his eyes. 

As Harry roamed the area, he looked like he suddenly came across an object resembling something he had encountered before - it turned out to be the snitch; however, before he could fully pursue it, a powerful force collided with him. The impact had resulted in his arm being hit and subsequently injured. 

In a surprising turn of events, a piece of protective gear was propelled into the stands, but thanks to the shield, all individuals were shielded from any potential danger. As Ginny reached through the shield, Kellah could hear the faint hum of energy and see the tingling water vapors on Ginny’s skin as she grabbed the protective gear.

The bludger was hurtling towards Harry once more, narrowly missing Malfoy as it whizzed past him. Kellah rose, her eyes widening as she let out an audible gasp. 

She had an overwhelming urge to pray for our safety, but she suppressed it. Rather, her mind focused on magic that would serve as its protection. 

It did not work Malfoy fell into a split trying to catch the snitch.

Harry dived low, his fingertips brushing against the golden snitch as he reached out. After catching it, he fell to the ground but still held it up in his hand before crashing.

“GRYFFINDOR WINS!”

Recognizing the urgency of the situation, Kellah promptly got up and took charge, ensuring Ron was quickly brought onto the field as they both felt the gentle brush of the grass against their legs. 

“The score is one hundred fifty to sixty, and the Heir needs much medical assistance,” said Lee Jordan .

McGonagall stepped forward and grabbed hold of the microphone, causing a loud static noise to emit from it. 

Hermione, who was right there beside Harry, attempted to hug him while Lockhart smiled in his direction. Making his way towards her, Colin started capturing moments with his camera.

“I don’t want a photo of this, Colin,” Harry yelled.

Kellah would ask for it later. By the time she came closer, Harry’s arm had lost all its bones, and Lockhart was tightly clutching it. 

Following that, there was a frantic rush to get Harry to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was in a mood that seemed to be specifically targeted at Lockhart. 

Behind a curtain, Ron guided Harry as he put on his clothes. As Hermione averted her gaze, Kellah instinctively shielded her eyes, only to sneak a peek through the gaps between her fingers. Harry was so thin that his bones seemed to protrude beneath his skin. He was slightly taller than last year, but Ron had a somewhat greater height than him. There was nothing remarkable to see. What a letdown. She turned around, determined to keep her eyes shut tight.

“Hermione, how can you defend Lockhart after all that’s happened?”  Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry’s limp fingers through the cuff. “Harry didn’t ask for deboning.”

“Mistakes happen,” said Hermione.

“Lockhart sure makes a lot of those,” said Kellah.

 “It doesn’t hurt anymore, right, Harry?” Hermione asked with a sweetness to her voice.

“No,” Harry said, climbing into bed. “But I don’t think he meant for it to do nothing at all.” As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly.

As the curtain parted, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey appeared, stepping out into the open. Clutching a sizable bottle, Madam Pomfrey’s hold tightened around the object, revealing a prominent label identifying the contents as “Skele-Gro.”

“Prepare yourself for a night of hardships,” she said, pouring a beaker full of hot liquid and extending it towards him. “Regrowing bones is a nasty business.”

So was taking the Skele-Gro. The liquid burned Harry’s mouth and throat, causing him to cough and sputter. Tut-tutting about the perils of extreme sports and the incompetence of certain educators, Madam Pomfrey withdrew, leaving Ron and Hermione to aid Harry in quickly hydrating himself. 

“At least we won,” said Ron, his face lighting up with a victorious grin. “I have to say, that catch you made was something else,” he remarked, amazed. “Malfoy’s face... he looked ready to kill...”

“Doing that requires bravery, something he clearly lacks,” Kellah remarked, her tone dripping with contempt.

“I want to know how he fixed that bludger,” said Hermione darkly.

“Ask all you like when we’ve taken the Polyjuice Potion,” said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows, the comforting embrace lulling him into a relaxed state. “I hope it tastes better than this stuff... can't be any worse.”

“Oh yes, it can. If it’s got bits of Slytherins in it?” said Ron.

“Bet it tastes like battery acid,” Kellah commented. “Nice and black like tar.” 

Kellah tried to recall the taste of Pansy, relying solely on her memory. Ron was repeatedly making unpleasant gagging noises that were hard to ignore.

Suddenly, there was a loud burst as the door of the hospital wing swung open. Covered in dirt and completely drenched, the remaining members of the Gryffindor team had finally made it to witness the presence of Harry. 

“Mate, your flying was insane,” George said. “Saw Marcus Flint flipping out on Malfoy. Said the snitch was on his head the whole time, and he didn’t have a clue. Malfoy didn’t seem too thrilled.”

Freshly baked cakes filled the air with their scent, while colorful sweets caught the eye, and the clinking sound of bottles of pumpkin juice being set down could be heard. When Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, “This is a hospital, and this boy needs rest! He’s got bones to regrow! Out! OUT!” 

That afternoon sun was high in the sky, but that didn’t deter Kellah from venturing for a solitary walk. As she turned the corner, she collided with Malfoy, feeling the impact jolt through her body. His action startled her, and she could feel his firm grip on her arm. “Can we be alone?”

“No,” Kellah said firmly, pulling her arm away and striding off; she didn’t care where to. Suddenly, Kevin Entwhistle appeared, his brown hair obscuring his eyes until he nonchalantly flipped it aside. 

An overwhelming sensation washed over Kellah, and instantly, she found herself back in bed. The last thing she remembered was being wide awake, so she couldn’t understand how she ended up going to bed so early. She was just somewhere else, wasn't she? Opening the covers, she realized she was still dressed in the same clothes she had worn that morning, but there were feathers in her hand again. 

Kellah found herself drawn to her box of letters from Malfoy, unsure of the reason. The new ballerina gracefully twirled inside. She quickly closed it before the music woke anyone, mainly Lavender. As it hit the floor, the old one made a loud thud, reverberating through the room. Lavender stirred then snored loudly. As Kellah picked it up, she could feel the broken feet and the fragility of the object, which crumbled into two pieces in her hand. The face that was once intact had vanished entirely.

Chapter Text

As the sun rose that Sunday morning, Kellah stood guard instead of having fun. The sounds of nature blended with the clinking of glassware as Ron and Hermione worked on brewing the potion. She found Hermione’s behavior quite annoying, considering Kellah already knew how to brew it perfectly. Probably just trying to be alone with Ron.

She was just glad that Moaning Myrtle wasn’t in the bathroom, making the place depressing. As Harry approached the bathroom door, Kellah swung a roll of toilet paper at him, narrowly missing his head. 

“What are you gonna do, beat me to death with butt wipe,” Harry scoffed.

“Sorry, Harry,” she said, realizing her mistake. “I mistook you for someone else. Hermione and Ron are in the stall all the way to the back.”

Harry quickly squeezed into the cramped stall, disappearing with the other two. Kellah was once again left standing by the door, keeping watch. She was likely more knowledgeable than the three of them combined, yet she was relegated to watching the door. With her expertise, they could brew the potion effortlessly. Her familiarity with Hogwarts a History allowed her to recall the tale of the Chamber of Secrets easily. If they didn’t want her help, she could figure it out herself; she was a Seer, after all. She grew weary of being left out of the loop, craving access to their information. Kellah was valuable, and she would prove it.

With a determined stride, Kellah walked up to the stall and confidently rapped her knuckles on the door, reverberating through the vacant space. “We have chess practice.”

When Ron burst through the door, the hinges creaked in protest. “Come on, Hermione, we’re late.”

Hermione burst through as well, her face flushed and her hair disheveled, and they both abruptly stopped at the front of the bathroom. “Harry, you can come and watch.”

Upon hearing the news, Harry couldn’t help but make a funny face. “I’ll go back to the hospital wing. Fewer people to bother me there.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped, and a heaviness seemed to hang in the surrounding air. “We can stay with you. It’s just one practice,” Hermione said, reassuring him.

“Go, I leave you for Quidditch practice all the time. I’ll sneak in when no one’s looking.”

They agreed, then hurriedly descended a flight of stairs to room 1A. But the staircases moved. The castle had its own idea of where they should go. It is said that the castle possessed a unique ability to steer you towards the right path rather than the path you may desire. Others say it was a dragon that the four founders transfigured.

All Kellah knew was that they were late. By the time they got there, everyone else had already arrived. 

Making her way towards them, Professor Sinistra commanded attention in the room. “I’m giving up my Sunday for this. Please be on time.”

Malfoy sighed when they walked through. “Let’s go, people. I’m suffering at Quidditch for this.”

“You’re suffering at Quidditch because you suck,” said Dean.

“Quiet the noise, or I’ll be casting spells indiscriminately,” said Ron.

“That's a big word for you. Who taught you that know-it-all, Granger?” Malfoy got in Ron’s face, his sneer practically reaching his ears. “What are you going to do with that broken wand?”

“Use it as a whipping stick on you,” said Ron. “And yes, she did teach me that word.”

Professor Sinistra came between the two, her stern gaze silencing their argument. “I may be the fun professor, but I will quickly turn this from chess to detention. Five points from each house.”

“What did I do,” Padma said.

As she walked away, three tables materialized, their polished chess boards reflecting the sunlight. 

“This team is a mess,” said Hermione.

Padma shrugged. “I just wanted to make my Ba and Ma proud.”

“We will just keep doing the strategies I told you. Hermione and Padma, keep it up. Kellah, you’re losing focus. Dean read more chess books, and Malfoy try not to get in the way,” Ron said, giving a thumbs up.

Malfoy smirked. “I make no promises.”

Everyone took their seats. Kellah was pitied against Malfoy, with slicked-back hair and a sneer on his face. Malfoy took two chess pieces, holding the weight of a white king and a black queen in his palms. This was generally done with pawns, but he was being dramatic.

With a careful touch, she selected his left hand, her fingertips tracing a path along his palm. Opening his palm, he revealed a black queen. Just as she was about to grasp it, he swiftly snatched it from her hand. He extended his hand, offering it to her, holding it between two fingers. After placing it back on the board, they swiftly swapped places, seamlessly transitioning into their new positions.

While his white fiercely attacked, the black skillfully defended her positions, leaving him disadvantaged. Unfortunately, his king remained vulnerable, and his queen seemed ineffective in finding a favorable position on the board.

Malfoy’s pieces were firing cannons without discrimination despite his access to private tutors. Clearly, he was missing the strategic thinking typical of a Pureblood. Or was the Pureblood strategy to throw money at it? He mirrored her every move yet learned none of his own.

His strategy was throwing random moves, hoping to achieve a successful outcome. However, his lack of a coherent plan ultimately led to his downfall. Despite his aggressive approach, the chess game concluded after just five moves

“Checkmate.”She pointed the winning piece at Dean. “You’re next.”

Hermione’s playing suddenly ceased, leaving Dean with a look of confusion on his face. “Don’t you want to play anyone else?”

“No, I want Dean.”

After a fierce battle of wits, Hermione emerged victorious over Dean in their chess match, exhaling a relieved sigh. “I was trying to up his game, but maybe you’ll do a better job.”

Dean sat down happily, his smile not faltering despite losing to Hermione. “Ready for another loss.”

Now, she was white and actively engaged in an attack. She was intending to outmaneuver her opponent. She strategically launched an attack by implementing the highly effective Sicilian Defense tactic, initiating her first move by advancing the pawn in front of her queen’s bishop. Dean’s counter was feeble and did not effectively challenge the opposition. 

Like a general, she confidently led her army with precision and determination. Playing with strategic precision, Dean resembled a foot soldier, ready to fall back at a moment’s notice. Restless in his seat, he failed to realize that he had unwittingly made himself an easy target. In just ten moves, she had him pinned down. His eyes only grazed the board momentarily, his mind preoccupied. His eyes remained locked on her, never wavering, as if he couldn’t tear his gaze away. 

She had never seen someone take defeat so well. “Like Ron said, you should read more chess books.”

Just a short while after Harry entered the room, busy catching up on his homework, Professor Sinistra kindly offered her assistance to him. Malfoy attempted to go over and tease him, but the presence of Professor Sinistra was enough to intimidate him and discourage any further attempts. 

For a few hours, they engaged in intense chess games, strategizing every move. They even played a game of simultaneous chess against Ron. Out of everyone, Hermione was the lone champion; her victory owed to the dwindling time limit. 

“I reckon we’re all set for the Championship. Hopefully, it’s still on, and nobody else gets hurt,” said Ron.

“We gotta keep practicing. The kids at the other schools are, like, way older,” Padma said.

“Yeah, but we’re cleverer,” said Ron. “Celine Castillon better watch out.”

“We’re gonna be massacred,” said Kellah.

“Most likely,” Hermione stated. “Leave it to Ron and me.”

Come Monday morning, everyone couldn’t stop talking about Kevin Enthwhistle and his brush with death. No one cared about the chess tournament they had been practicing for months. They were too depressed for that. Kellah had read so many chess books that she could effortlessly recite chess openings from memory. There were the Sicilian Defense, French Defense, and Pirc Defense—a lot of defenses. There were 120 chess openings that she knew of, and Ron probably knew them all. 

That didn’t matter since the life was sucked out of the school. There was no school spirit well except for Mrtyle. 

People huddled together in close-knit clusters, fearful of venturing out alone. Ginny, who was close to Kevin Enthwhistle, was distraught. While trying to bring a smile to her face, her brothers, Fred and George, unintentionally worsened her mood. Percy had to intervene, warning them their mum would find out if they continued.

In the common room after class, Kellah finally had some precious alone time with Ginny. Behind the golden gates of the Gryffindor trophy room, she could smell the faint scent of polished brass and hear the soft rustling of house banners. But amidst the noise, she heard Ginny’s quiet sobs, unnoticed by everyone else. As Kellah sat on the only bench there, she wiped away Ginny’s tears, her emotions overwhelming her. Showing her deep affection, Kellah wrapped her arms around Ginny’s shoulders and squeezed her tightly, enveloping her in a heartfelt hug. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault they’re just trying to cheer you up.”

Ginny made several unsuccessful attempts to push Kellah away as Kellah continued to grasp onto her firmly. Ginny continued to hit Kellah over and over again until she couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, causing her to break down in tears. “It’s my first year, and I haven’t got any friends. My one friend could be dead. I’m alone,” she cried.

Sensing her vulnerability, Kellah tightened her hold on Ginny, providing a sense of security. “You’re not alone. You have your brothers, Harry, Hermione, and me.”

“I’d rather have my own mates, not Ron’s. And I can’t hang with Colin because everyone will think I’m in Harry's fan club.”

“I can be Ron's friend and yours.” Kellah kissed her on the forehead.

Looking upwards, Ginny’s eyes met with Kellah standing before her. “I know, but it’s hard, and now students may die, and I feel like I can’t do anything to help.”

“You can do what the other students are doing to figure out what this monster is and stay in groups to make sure no one is out late.”

Ginny nodded her head. “Thanks, I’m alright now.”

Using her wand, Kellah conjured a soft handkerchief and gently wiped away Ginny’s tears. “How about we do a makeover, Ginny?”

“I don't need one, not really a makeover, girl,” she sniffled.

“Okay, how about I teach you a sewing spell then and the color-changing spell for clothes? Not to be confused with the hair spell, or you'll end up like me.”Her blonde box braids, once neatly styled, were now in a state of disarray, as Kellah pointed out.

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you haven’t looked good since Halloween.” Ginny inspected a box braid.

Kellah clenched her teeth. “Thanks, Ginny.”

“No problem.”

Ginny nodded, and they walked briskly to her dormitory, feeling the warmth of the familiar corridor enveloping them until it was suffocating. Everything in the room was familiar, resembling Kellah’s, except for adding an armchair next to the bed. A pile of books and a candle shaped like a long skeleton spine sat on top of it. 

“Hand me a pair of ripped jeans.” Kellah held out her hand as she sat by a wood stove in the center of the room. It was so hot she had to remove her winter cloak.

Ginny rummaged through a drawer and handed Kellah a pair of ripped jeans. The tears were concentrated around the thighs and knees. Recognizing the need for repair, Kellah started by casting Suo. Carefully, Kellah mended the fabric, ensuring a neat and sturdy fix.

With the repairs complete, Kellah gave the jeans a fresh and trendy look. Using her magical skills, Kellah cast a spell called Colovaria. The spell worked magic, transforming the jeans from their original dark shade to a stylish and vibrant light acid-wash blue.

Now, the once-damaged jeans were repaired and rejuvenated with a new color. Kellah's skillful mending and magical touch had breathed new life into the old pair, making them ready to be worn with confidence and style.

“Too easy. Give me something difficult.”

“Here’s a flannel George gave me. I can't fit it,” Ginny chucked the oversized shirt.

Kellah caught the fabric Ginny had tossed and used her sewing skills. With a swift motion, she cast Diffindo and Suo, transforming the fabric into a stylish sleeveless flannel dress. The dress had a flattering silhouette and was perfect for the upcoming autumn season.

Not stopping there, Kellah used the remaining fabric to create a matching skirt. She meticulously measured it with magical tape and cut, ensuring the skirt was the perfect length and fit. With each stitch, the skirt took shape, showcasing Kellah’s attention to detail and craftsmanship.

Kellah’s successful project not only showcased her creativity and talent but also reflected her passion for fashion and the joy she found in creating her unique pieces. With each stitch, she transformed a simple fabric into beautiful garments, making her feel confident and proud.

Once both the dress and skirt were complete, Kellah admired her handiwork. The sleeveless flannel dress was comfortable yet fashionable, while the skirt exuded a chic and versatile style. She couldn’t wait to see her creations worn and show off her sewing skills to her friends.

“You think you can do the next one?” Kellah asked.

“Not really,” Ginny said.

“Easy, look up some patterns. Take your brother’s old clothes that Ron doesn’t want. You got a new wardrobe.”

“Mum won't like it,” Ginny said.

“You see her two months out of the year, and you're the only girl. You'll be alright.”

They practiced for hours, tirelessly perfecting their alteration skills. Ginny’s determination paid off as she finally mastered the art of transforming her clothing items. Together, they successfully altered at least ten pieces in her wardrobe. Each garment underwent a remarkable change, ensuring none resembled their original form. Ginny’s wardrobe had undergone a complete transformation, with a unique and distinctive look for every item.

The once-ordinary pieces now possessed a charm and personality of their own. Each alteration showcased Ginny’s creativity and ability to think unconventionally. From simple hemming to intricate modifications, her wardrobe had become a testament to her newfound skills.

The remarkable transformation amazed Kellah. She marveled at how a few hours of practice had led to such incredible results. It was the witching hour, but so worth it. Her wardrobe reflected her dedication and passion for the art of alteration.

With her newly mastered skills, Ginny would no longer need to purchase new clothes for a fresh look. She could now breathe new life into her existing pieces, creating a truly one-of-a-kind wardrobe.

When they were done, Kellah hugged Ginny. “Even the most ordinary items could be transformed into something extraordinary.” Kellah smiled, then said, “Like a diary.”

After that day, Ginny appeared in higher spirits and assumed the responsibility of looking after all the first-year students. In her class, she was gaining popularity day by day. 

As Ginny went about her task, her mischievous brothers, Fred and George, could be heard hawking their assortment of talismans, amulets, and protective charms throughout the school. Neville bought a few, but the rotting newt tail was especially foul. He was a Pureblood he knew better. He knew that this rubbish wouldn’t work. Well, he should have known better, but it seemed like every kid in school was falling for it.

No matter how hard Percy tried to confiscate the items, they seemed to multiply endlessly. 

Later, they discovered that the chess club would spend Christmas together for their match, which meant Malfoy would have to stay, too. 

They had chosen to employ the Polyjuice potion at that moment. Thanks to Kellah, it was already done and ready to be used, but there would hardly be any students there for Christmas. 

As Kellah strolled through December, she believed she had experienced all the excitement it offered. Little did she know, a surprise awaited her: a bustling crowd gathered around a notice board. It was then that Kellah’s eyes fell upon the sign-ups for the Dueling Club, meticulously written in the most extravagant handwriting she had ever encountered.

Dean, along with his mate Seamus, had called them over. 

“They’re starting a Dueling Club!” said Seamus. “First meeting tonight! The way things are these days, they’ll come in handy.”

“What, you reckon Slytherin’s monster can duel?” said Ron, but he, too, read the sign of interest. Ron patiently stood there, biding his time, until Dean and Seamus finally walked away. 

“Still useful, though,” he told them.

Before the dueling club met, Kellah handpicked her dueling attire, ensuring she looked both stylish and formidable. Dueling attire included a dueling jacket worn with socks, breeches, a chest protector, and plastrons, essentially serving as armor for your wand arm. Unlike the others, Kellah’s attire set her apart from the crowd, as she confidently sported shorts and a graceful, floor-length chiffon skirt instead of the typical breeches. Anyone foolish enough to step on it would find themselves on the receiving end of a wand to the face.

Hermione made a face, wrinkling her nose in disgust as Kellah rushed out. “Too much.”

“A bit ya.”

“I have one for you, too.”

Hermione slammed a book shut.“No, thank you.”

Wearing a dueling outfit she made herself, Ginny confidently strode by. The crowd was dominated by Purebloods who had dressed up, creating a visual spectacle of Slytherins as far as the eye could see. 

At precisely eight o’clock, all the Great Hall tables disappeared, leaving behind only a shimmering golden stage. Kellah grabbed her friends’ hands and sprinted to the front, adrenaline coursing through her veins. A Slytherin boy who was brushing his hair was miffed. Almost all the school had registered, and more students were still coming. The crowd surged forward, and Kellah’s chest tightened under the weight of the pushing and shoving. 

“I wonder who’ll be teaching us?” Hermione asked as they edged into the chattering crowd. “I hope it’s ooh—”

 Lockhart’s entrance on stage was met with Kellah’s immediate disinterest, knowing they wouldn’t gain any valuable knowledge from him. Same as it was in class. “Isn’t Professor Flitwick a dueling champion? Shouldn't he be teaching this?”

Then, Snape appeared on stage alongside him, causing Kellah to become more attentive. 

Once Lockhart finished his long-winded speech, they locked eyes, brandishing their wands at the center before gracefully bowing. Snape's bow was considerably higher than Lockhart’s. They took ten steps back, retracing their path. Snape’s wand arm was held out in front of him, while the other arm was tightly curled by his ear, poised for action. Lockhart exuded a sense of ease, with his wand held nonchalantly in front of him and one hand casually resting on his hip. “One — two — three —”

Brandishing his wand, Snape lifted his arm high above his head and then directed it towards his opponent. There was a delay in Lockhart’s response. Snape cried, “Expelliarmus!” 

Lockhart found himself disarmed and helpless on the ground as he flew back. He no longer possessed a wand. If it were a real duel, he would be dead. Janice Pepper, a popular Hufflepuff, performed a helpful gesture by picking up his wand and returning it to him.

“Is he alright?” Hermione asked, alarmed.

“Who cares?” Harry and Ron said in unison. Kellah couldn't agree more.

Kellah was drawn to Malfoy and a few other Slytherins, who were chuckling and exchanging amused glances. Hermione’s expression betrayed her concern for Lockhart, while Harry and Ron’s delighted smiles contrasted sharply. 

Lockhart had explained that the disarming charm was a spell used to disarm an opponent and make them defenseless. It was probably the only thing they would learn from this dueling club. And it was thanks to Snape. Too bad he was always denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He was good at it.

Snape must have been a better duelist than she thought, or Lockhart was more incompetent than she had first imagined. With Hermione’s guidance, she understood that Expelliarmus wouldn’t cause a person to be knocked back unless it was cast by multiple individuals or the lone caster possessed extraordinary strength. Like Lord Voldemort… uh, she meant Voldemort. He wasn’t her lord. 

Once that was done, they were split up and paired off. Although her attention was initially focused on her partner, Dean, she couldn’t help but steal glances towards Malfoy, who coincidentally was standing alongside Harry. 

“Turn to your partners!” called Lockhart, back on the platform. “Give us a bow, my friends!”

Not once diverting their gaze from one another, Dean and Kellah only slightly inclined their heads, maintaining their intense connection.

“Ready your wands!” Lockhart exclaimed. “When I reach three, use your charms to disarm your opponents, just to disarm them. No accidents, okay? One... two... three —”

“Expelliarmus.” Her eyes stung from the red light discharged from her wand, but the spell worked, and she had disarmed Dean. 

Making her way over to him, she bent down and retrieved his wand, the familiar weight comforting in her grasp. Instead of fear, she felt fascinated as the lightning bolt crackled towards her. It felt familiar, like a distant memory, but she dashed out of its way, dropping the wand. It narrowly avoided hitting Janice Pepper, who made herself short to dodge it.

Made from laurel wood, the wand measured 11 1/4 inches long. It had a unique red color with a faint hint of purple and was infused with kneazle whiskers. She had been making broomsticks too long. If she kept this up, she could work at Ollivander’s shop. 

“I didn't know my wand could do that.” Dean picked it up from the floor. “Thanks, you’re pretty good. Got it already.”

“Nah, I’m rubbish. Been lucky with spells lately. Don’t know what’s got into me.” Casting a curious gaze upon his wand, she gently rubbed it. “But your wand is pretty wicked.”

Kellah’s heart skipped a beat as she realized she was still tightly clutching Dean’s wand. In a moment of clarity, she released it, her fingers still tingling from its touch. Just as she was about to speak up, she caught sight of Millicent Bulstrode having Hermione trapped in a headlock. Making her way towards Bulstrode, Kellah couldn’t resist the temptation to grab a handful of her hair and give it a yank. Bulstrode let go of Hermione. Bulstrode attempted to land a punch on Kellah, but Kellah swiftly moved to the side, avoiding the attack. Kellah’s wand was aimed at Bulstrode’s face, ready to unleash its power. “Witches and wizards fight with wands. Muggles use their hands. Are you a Muggle?” she asked. 

“No,” Bulstrode barked, her gaze fixed on Kellah as she aggressively attempted to wrestle her wand away. 

“Flipendo,” she uttered in haste, and in an instant, Bulstrode was forcefully pushed back by an unseen force. 

As they reunited, Hermione pulled her into a tight hug, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. “That was wicked.”

The spotlight was supposed to be on Kellah, but Harry’s sudden appearance on stage completely stole the show, diverting everyone’s attention to his impending duel with Malfoy. Who put the twelve-year-olds on the stage? It was a tickle fight that turned into a dance fight, but what do you expect from two-second years with limited spells? Where was Cedric Diggory? Surely he knew a shield charm or something with more spectacle? 

As she craned her neck, she felt a slight strain in her muscles. Cedric stood next to his fellow Hufflepuff, Janice Pepper, whose hair caught everyone’s attention with its puke-green color. Amid the duel, Janice giggled uncontrollably, unaware of the intense atmosphere. Meanwhile, Cedric was laser-focused, not missing a single detail. How rude; she should leave him alone.

However, Kellah was oblivious until Malfoy summoned a snake, which Harry had chased after Janice Pepper. The color of Janice's hair had shifted dramatically from green to black, and it had grown long enough to shield her face behind a curtain of bangs as she whimpered in place.

“Ssshsie Hsuhhissii Hsushk Shashu,” Harry hissed. The sound had a haunting familiarity, and as Kellah listened, she felt herself being drawn deeper into a trance-like state. As she teetered on the edge of falling, Dean’s firm grip saved her from tumbling backward. Kellah locked eyes with him, mesmerized by his big brown doe eyes, until a scream pierced the air - it was Janice.

In Cedric’s arms, Janice was huddled, her body shaking with fear. It made Kellah’s blood boil. She had not paid attention to the duel and was now crying on Cedric’s shoulder. It was too much. As Snape skillfully made the snake disappear with a flick of his wand, Kellah’s eyes darted to Janice, who was exchanging a mischievous wink with the other Hufflepuff girls.

As Harry left the stage, he meandered through the room while people whispered amongst themselves. Taking hold of him, Ron swiftly directed Harry into the corridor. “Shove off,” he growled at people. Hermione followed them, and as Dean let go of Kellah, she dashed after them with wild abandon. 

Rushing through the corridor, the three of them hurried Harry up to the Gryffindor common room. The empty room stood in stark contrast to the bustling Great Hall, where students had gathered for the dueling club. 

Ron’s hands shoved Harry with such intensity that he stumbled backward, crashing into a nearby chair. “You're a Parseltongue?”

“A whatchamacallit?” said Harry.

“Don’t make fun, Harry, this is serious,” said Hermione, the color draining from her face.

“A Parselmouth!” said Ron. “You can chat with snakes!”

“Yeah, I know,” said Harry. “That’s only the second time I’ve done it, you know? Okay, get this. I sort of let a boa constrictor loose on my cousin Dudley at the zoo by accident. It was all like, ‘I’ve never been to Brazil!’ So, without even realizing I was a wizard, I set it free. Mad, right?”

“Wait, a boa constrictor said it’s never been to Brazil?” Ron mumbled it again. “So you set it free!”

“So?” said Harry. “I reckon plenty of people here can pull it off.”

“Nah, they can’t,” Ron said. “It’s not a gift you come across often. Harry, this is bad, mate.”

“Yeah, I have a...” Ron gave Kellah a death stare, and she immediately stopped talking. 

“What’s bad?” Harry was turning red with anger. “Look, if I hadn’t told that snake not to attack Janice —”

“Really? That’s what you said to it?”

“You were there, you know what I said.”

“I heard you speaking Parseltongue,” said Ron. “Snake language. It was all hisses. You could have said anything - no wonder Janice freaked out, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something - it was so creepy, ya know -”

In complete disbelief, Harry’s mouth dropped open as he looked at them. “Did I actually speak a different language? How can I speak a language if I didn’t even know I could?”

Ron shook his head. The somber expressions on both his and Hermione’s faces gave the impression that they were mourning as if they had recently experienced a death. Kellah wanted to let Harry know he was not the sole possessor of extraordinary talents. However, it appeared that everyone was extremely frightened by Harry’s. She wasn’t sure she should tell hers. 

“I’m Harry, just plain old Harry.”

Kellah could feel tears welling up. “You have never been plain old Harry, and you know it.”

“Well, it shouldn’t matter then,” said Harry.

“But it does matter,” said Hermione, speaking at last calmly, “Salazar Slytherin was famous because he possessed the unique talent of talking to snakes. A serpent represents Slytherin House for that very reason.”

“Exactly,” Ron chimed in, his words carrying a sense of certainty. “Now the whole school’s gonna think you’re great-great-grandson or something —”

“It's more greats than that,” Kellah corrected. Ron glared at her. “Weren’t the Potters a Pureblood family, and aren’t they all related somehow?”

“But I’m not,” said Harry, his voice shaking. Either he was going through puberty, or he was panicking.

“He lived almost a thousand years ago. Who knows, you could be,” Hermione said. 

By the following day, the snow had transformed from a gentle flurry into a blizzard, obscuring visibility and forcing the cancellation of the last Herbology lesson of the term. Professor Sprout, the only one trusted with this delicate task, was carefully fitting socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, knowing how crucial it was for them to grow rapidly and revive the victims. 

In a hurry to locate Janice, Harry dashed off, leaving Kellah to remain behind and lend a helping hand to Professor Sprout. Ron and Hermione chose to play chess in the common room. 

“You’re quite sure you wouldn’t rather have a free period?” asked Professor Sprout.

“I would rather spend the time learning and be safe here with a teacher,” she said.

“Well, you are the best in my second-year class, so why not? Except Neville, of course.”

The feeling of always being second best was beginning to wear on Kellah. Her academic prowess was apparent as she consistently ranked second in all her classes, except for Potions, where she was first. This setback prevented her from playing a crucial role in Hermione’s plan, as she was not allowed to brew the Polyjuice potion. Wait, she meant third because Padma was second, but everyone forgot about her because she wasn’t Harry Potter’s friend.

Donning her earmuffs, Kellah observed the teenage Mandrakes in Greenhouse Three, marveling at how much they had grown. 

The thought caused Kellah to drop a pair of shears. While picking up the fallen item, Kellah’s gaze landed on an old, moss-covered drain pipe. Without realizing it, she had drifted off into her own world, only to snap back to reality when she felt the shrill cries of a Mandrake in her hands. Trying to be swift, she hurriedly put socks on one foot, but it abruptly kicked her face, catching her off guard. She smiled as she realized her earmuffs had stayed put, protecting her ears from the Mandrakes’ cries. 

With determination, Kellah clenched the Mandrake root’s head even tighter, her fingers digging into its gnarled surface. It stopped struggling, and there was a moment of stillness as if it was holding its breath. In seconds, she hastily donned the socks onto it and swiftly moved it to a new pot. Outgrowing their old pots that had splintered and separated into multiple pieces. “I can’t wait to kill you for your restorative properties,” she said.

Determined to silence it once and for all, she tightly wrapped a scarf around its mouth and surrounded it in dirt.

Her hands were dirty as she left in a hurry. To her surprise, there were also feathers scattered around them. 

The sun cast her shadow on the snowy landscape. It resembled a wriggling snake. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes fixated on the lifeless rooster lying on the ground. Terrified of Slytherin’s monster, she sprinted through the darkness, her heart pounding in her chest. She had left her group and had gone all alone after what she told Ginny. 

Kellah was a Muggleborn. How could she have been so stupid? The fear of being turned to stone consumed her thoughts, and she knew she could never forgive herself if it happened. She would miss so much school or worse. She would be dead and be a ghost where no one cared about you or how you died. No, thank you to that. 

In haste, she sprinted indoors and accidentally collided with Peeves, creating a sudden impact. He was performing a song. “Oh Potter, you rotter, you’re quite the plotter. Your friends are all hotter,” he laughed.

“Thanks, Peeves.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, pieing her face. 

“You—you” she didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t you stutter, you hutter?”

Unintentionally, Kellah found herself unable to hold back tears as she faced Peeves. With each step, he flung another pie, the gooey mess splattering against walls and pavement as she desperately ran to find shelter. Her heart pounding, she sprinted until she finally spotted a bathroom, her last refuge.

After shedding tears while pies were thrown at her, she hurriedly made her way to the bathroom belonging to Myrtle and washed her face. Peeves stood outside the room, refusing to go in.

Here, she could finally breathe a sigh of relief, knowing she would be out of harm’s way. Running her fingers through her hair, she could feel the sticky remnants of pie, and her frustration grew as she failed to cast Scourgify correctly. Looking at herself in the mirror, a flicker of movement caught her eye, making her think a snake was slithering behind her. When she looked, her surroundings blurred into a hazy emptiness.

She saw herself in the mirror again, this time just her. Judging by her posture, she fell asleep hunched over the sink. Her clothes and hair were now spotless, but a gray hue crept into her complexion.

Unbeknownst to Kellah, time seemed to have passed while she slept. The bathroom was now eerily quiet. Startled by the sudden change, she quickly straightened up, only to realize that her reflection in the mirror was no longer her own. Instead, she saw a ghostly figure staring back at her.

Fear gripped Kellah's heart as she recognized the spectral presence of Tom Riddle. But she wasn't sure how she knew it was him. Tom’s sad, hollow eyes seemed to pierce through Kellah's soul, leaving her feeling uneasy and vulnerable.

Desperate to understand what had transpired, Kellah cautiously approached Tom, hoping for answers. But as she drew closer, Tom vanished, leaving a chilling whisper echoing through the empty bathroom.

Confused and shaken, Kellah could feel the gray hue deepening on her skin as if an unseen force was draining the life out of her. Panic set in as she realized that something sinister was at play.

With determination fueling her steps, she left the bathroom and ventured back into the school corridors. As she navigated the dimly lit hallways, Kellah couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Shadows flickered and whispered, adding to her growing unease. She wondered if Peeves and Myrtle were connected to her current plight.

Safety was her main priority. It was late, so when no one was looking besides the nosy portraits, so she ran like a mad woman to Gryffindor Tower.

Upon seeing the Fat Lady, she stopped to catch her breath.

“What are you doing out by yourself,” the Fat Lady asked.

 “Trying not to die.” Kellah coughed. “Grata Domum.”

The porthole swung open, and Kellah tried to walk through it slowly. She was met by Hermione, who eagerly embraced her. “I was worried sick. Where were you?”

“Helping with the Mandrakes.”

“There was another attack. It was Peeves and someone else,” said Hermione.

“Well, Peeves is annoying, so that’s alright.”

“Kellah,” yelled Hermione.

Ron came over. “It’s Janice, and they said Ernie caught Harry in front of the bodies. They sent him to Dumbledore’s office.”

Chapter Text

The simultaneous attack on Janice Pepper and Peeves plunged everyone into a state of utter panic. The fact that Nearly Headless Nick was dead and something harmed him was bad enough but now Peeves. Across many centuries, headmasters and headmistresses had repeatedly tried to oust Peeves from the school, but with little success. And something had done it, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

The lively energy that Peeves brought to the scene had vanished with his petrification, leaving behind a lifeless ambiance. The school’s atmosphere mirrored the dreary nature of the Muggle world, yet Filch found himself inexplicably cheerful, despite his beloved cat, Mrs. Norris, being petrified.

During her journey through the porthole, Kellah spotted him happily skipping in the halls. With each step, she could feel the worn-out carpet beneath her feet as she climbed up the dormitory. Right as Kellah was getting ready to sleep, Parvati approached her. “Professor Sinistra needs to chat with you and Hermione.”

“What for? It’s late,” said Kellah.

“Dunno. My sister said they also called her,” Parvati said, annoyed as she started applying coconut oil to her hair. 

Hermione rose from her bed, stretching her limbs. “I bet it’s about the chess tournament,” she mused, a smile playing on her lips.

As she sat on the edge of her bed, Lavender took the time to pamper herself, applying a generous amount of lotion to her leg with her manicured nails indulging in a moment of self-care. “Wow, you’re actually still doing that with all this going on?”

“That’s why it matters,” Hermione said.

“And I like—love that for you—but some of us are safer than others.” As Lavender flipped her hair, strands of silky curls danced on her shoulders. “E—nuff, I’m going to bed.”

As Lavender twirled her wand,  Kellah saw rollers gently vibrating against her scalp. As she settled into bed, she reached for her eye mask, ready to create a soothing, peaceful darkness.

Whereas Kellah transformed her look by wearing a stunning maxi skirt and a corset, Hermione stood out in her mismatched pajamas and messy bun. Although Kellah had initially wanted to wear a crop top or tube top, the teacher's presence deterred her from doing so.

As they descended the stairs, Harry caught sight of Kellah. “You look like a baby prozzer.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Kellah.

Without warning, Ron appeared behind her, causing her to jump in surprise. “He said you look like a baby prostitute.” 

“Do not,” Kellah said, startled.

“Do too,” said Hermione.

“Hang on, Harry, you were called down too,” Dean said as he settled down by the warm, crackling fire. 

“No sadly—Well, I’m off to bed,” Harry said, his shoulders slumped melancholic as he trotted up to his dormitory.

“And I don’t think you look like a baby prostitute, more like Baby Spice to me,”said Dean.

“Aces, do the Spice Girls actually sell spice?” asked Ron.

“Sorry, but it’s not Dune. It’s some stupid girl band about girl power, but it’s all a capitalist merchandising scheme.” Hermione stated.

“That’s how the Royalists roll,” said Kellah.

“We better pop off fast, or we’ll get detention from Professor Sinistra,” said Ron.

Climbing out of the porthole, they left The Fat Lady utterly astonished by their unexpected exit. “In or out, in or out, pick one,”she shouted. 

After a pleasant period of walking, Dean gently tapped Kellah’s arm, signaling his silent request to speak with her. The very second his fingers brushed against her skin, a pleasurable sensation of tingling warmth spread up her arm. “Is Harry going to be alright with everything going on?”

“Yeah, it’s Harry of course. He’s alright, mate,” Ron said, grinning.

Hand in hand, Kellah and Hermione walked in comfortable silence towards the entrance hall, the soft touch of their fingers providing reassurance. 

Standing at the entrance hall, Padma Patil and Draco Malfoy made quite the unexpected pair. The sight of Padma in a baby-doll blue dress was a delightful and eye-catching image. Sporting a suit, Malfoy’s demeanor and appearance gave the impression of a little man. For he was little, but he was no man.

Today, Professor Sinistra's hair, usually curly, was straightened meticulously, making her look even more composed and put together. With a graceful motion, she tucked strands behind her ear, revealing the delicate curve of her neck. “Before the tournament starts, I want to have a little bonfire.”

“So, you’re suggesting that I waste my time sitting around and singing kumbaya with a bunch of extras?” Malfoy scoffed.

“How charming! Ten points from Slytherin—oh, and ten points from Gryffindor as well because that ensemble is not dress code-appropriate.”

Kellah pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a slight pucker. “I was going to sleep in it.”

“In a corset?” Professor Sinistra raised an eyebrow skeptically, clearly not convinced. “So, children, gather some firewood, and we shall sleep here.”

“Are you serious? You would have me sleep in the woods?” Malfoy complained.

“Mr. Malfoy, we are standing in a peaceful meadow, starkly contrasting to the Forbidden Forest where you served detention last year. I think you’ll manage,” said Professor Sinistra.

“Oh, I heard about that,” said Padma, her eyes widening with interest.

“Nothing to hear,” said Kellah.

“I couldn’t go. I was ill," Ron explained while rubbing his hand.

“Lucky that you were Weasel Bee,” said Draco.

“Riveting stuff, but we need firewood, now go fetch children,” said Professor Sinistra.

Kellah took her first steps, the forest floor crunching beneath her boots, as Draco and Dean scrambled to keep pace. Meanwhile, Ron swiftly intervened, blocking their path and snatching Hermione, who was moving with noticeable sluggishness. “Let’s go fetch it together, shall we?”Ron’s hand shot out and grabbed Kellah’s arm tightly.

Playing with her nails, Padma trailed behind, lost in her thoughts.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Kellah exclaimed, her tone laced with frustration, pulling back her arm.

“Because they were circling like vultures. I mean, look at you,” said Ron.

“She looks smashing. No skin is showing but her shoulders,” said Hermione.

“You didn’t say that earlier.”

“Well, I changed my mind. I can do that, you know.”

With the help of Wingardium Leviosa, they effortlessly gathered a mix of wood, feeling the weightlessness of each piece as they collected them. Actually, Kellah was getting a hand cramp. Out of everyone, they were the first ones to return. Witnessing Kellah stacking the firewood, Dean wasted no time rushing back to her. 

“Let me help?”Taking possession of her entire supply of wood, Dean proceeded to stack it in an orderly manner. 

In a corner, Draco let out a scornful scoff. “I’m getting all mucked up. This is a new suit.”

After setting up the wood, all the kids stared at Professor Sinistra. “Well, are you going to light the fire or not?” Draco said.

“I’m sure you kids can do it — and not Hermione,” said Professor Sinistra.

Hermione decided to lower her wand. Kellah was preparing to cast the spell Incendio. However, Padma had already done so. “A simple spell anyone can do.”

“Not Weasel Bee with that broken wand,” said Draco.

“You didn’t cast it either.” Kellah said, “You totally yelled at the teacher.”

“Only the girls can cast it,” Padma said with a smirk.

“Since divorce became legal, women have been outpacing men in university attendance. Intelligence is clearly in our favor.,” Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes. “That’s beside the point. Wizards have all sorts of apprenticeships, internships, and special training.”

“How’d you know?” Hermione asked.

“Because my dad is Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office,” said Ron.

Malfoy had that smug look. “You would know about your father’s chosen profession and obsession with Muggles.”

Professor Sinistra shook her head. “This is not going how I thought.”

Dean looked at her. “No, this is how I pictured it.”

While they argued, she effortlessly manifested a delightful picnic, complete with a checkered blanket and an array of delicious treats. It was a mouthwatering array of sweets, but Ron’s argument quickly faded. With a growling stomach, Ron, unable to resist the temptation, immediately rushed towards the food and started indulging—the sight of Ron happily eating the sweets managed to calm the tension among the group momentarily.

“Eat, be merry,” she said as she took a bite of the succulent, juicy steak. Then quickly finished her meal. Professor Sinistra announced, “I’m off to bed,” her tired eyes barely staying open.

Professor Sinistra casually strolled away, carrying a plate of delicious food. She took the time to set up three tents. First, Draco went into a tent, but then he changed his mind and came back out. “Is this a joke? They are usually bigger on the inside.”

A small laugh escaped Professor Sinistra’s lips as she found something amusing. “It’s no joke. Mine is bigger, but yours aren’t huddle together for warmth.” With that, she closed her tent, leaving the group to find comfort and warmth in their arrangements. Considering they were six tweens that was unlikely. 

This would be a good time to drink. You would love it.

With the woods as her witness, Kellah firmly denied with conviction, her resounding voice carrying the weight of her refusal. “No,” she screamed.

“I know it’s awful being in the woods. Thank goodness I brought books,” Padma remarked.

“Me too, let’s trade,” Hermione suggested.

Their lack of caring left her feeling let down. This made things even easier than before. Noticing their obliviousness, Kellah seized the opportunity to exploit the situation. 

“Uh, I’m gotta go pee,” Kellah said. In a rather amusing spectacle, Kellah resorted to doing the famous “I gotta pee” dance to hilariously express her apparent need for a restroom even though she did not have to relieve herself.

Giggling, Hermione expressed her willingness, saying, “I’ll join you.”

Crossing her legs to hold her imaginary urine, Kellah said, “No, I’ll be fine alone.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” asked Padma, concerned.

“Girls, it’s alright,” Kellah said, bending down low and clutching her stomach for support.

Sitting on a log, Ron expressed his frustration, saying, “You don’t always have to go in pairs.”

Speed walking, Kellah quickly found refuge behind a bush, the branches providing a shield from prying eyes, as she retrieved her diary. 

After thoroughly examining the spell, Kellah returned within a short period of just five minutes.

“What were you doing taking a shit?” Draco said.

Slowly and cautiously, everyone took a few steps back. In her hands, Kellah proudly displayed a selection of drinks for everyone. “Making these, actually.”

“Is that butter—” Ron shouted, his voice trailing off as Draco quickly covered his mouth to prevent Professor Sinistra from overhearing. In disgust, they took a step back from each other. 

“Yeah, it could help us loosen up,” Padma said as she eagerly grabbed one and popped it in her mouth. 

“No, this is inappropriate,” Hermione said. “I won’t.”

“Hold her down,” Kellah commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of unfamiliarity as the words spilled out as if they belonged to someone else.

“I won’t push Hermione to loosen up, even though part of me wishes she would,” Ron admitted, his tone conflicted.

“Done,” Padma stated confidently, a smile forming on her lips.

“Wow, that was quick,” exclaimed Dean in surprise.

Draco smirked at Hermione and teased, “You’re such a lush.”

“How did you manage?” said Kellah, her tone laced with admiration.

With a delicate motion, Padma brought the mug to her lips and sipped. “Don’t worry about that now. I won’t get to experiment with anything close to this until Hogsmeade.”

Rising unsteadily, Hermione looked disoriented and slightly drunk. “We gotta play truth or dare,” she said.

“Spell or Cast, that’s what we call it,” Ron said.

“Any takers to go first?” Draco said, his smile full of malice.

Gradually, Kellah’s emotions transformed into a sense of fear that was creeping up on them. This was supposed to be fun but didn't feel like it.

“How about you, Granger? Wanna Spell or Cast?” said Draco.

As Hermione turned her gaze towards Ron, she noticed a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Um, Cast.”

Draco’s command was clear and direct. “Pour water on your head,” he said firmly. As the campfire crackled, there was a sense of unease that was broken by bursts of nervous laughter.

Getting up from his seat, Ron made Draco retreat a little. “She picked Cast, so get on with it.”

With a tired sigh, Ron plopped down onto the solid, weathered wood log. As cruel as they may have been, there was no denying that these games were entertaining. 

The spell “Aguamenti” escaped Hermione’s lips, causing a deluge of water to descend upon her, drenching her completely. Her hair, damp and curly, clung to her forehead and shoulders. Hermione’s actions drew laughter from everyone, and they all cheered for her.

“Nice new hairdo, Granger. Who’s the next victim, I mean, spell or caster?” Malfoy said, trying not to laugh. 

Kellah raised a trembling hand, her fingers reaching toward the sky. “I’ll go.”

With a confident tone, Draco declared, “Spell or Cast,” emphasizing each word. 

“Cast, duh,” said Kellah.

“Put your whole fist in your mouth,” Draco said with a devilish grin, his words daring her to take on the challenge.

“That doesn’t seem fair or easy,” said Dean.

“Do you want to play or not? We can have you pick a dull cast if you like,” Draco said.

Trying to stifle her laughter, Kellah responded by playfully attempting to shove her fist into her mouth. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get it to fit. Demonstrating dexterity, she flattened her hand and deftly inserted all of her fingers into her mouth, proceeding to clench them into a fist. 

Draco’s eyes were locked in a piercing stare, his unwavering gaze fixed upon something with great intensity. Experiencing a choking sensation, she immediately began coughing and could feel her throat constricting. Kellah promptly withdrew her hand. As the minutes passed, the sound of laughter and cheers started then gradually grew louder and more boisterous.

“Close enough, you got quite a lot in there. Right, Weasel Spell or Cast,” said Draco.

Ron confidently stated, “Cast, of course.”

Draco’s command was clear: “Bark like a dog until your next turn,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face. The dares seemed tailored to her friends, leaving her with a nagging suspicion that Draco was purposely testing their limits.

Ron’s cheeks blushed crimson, and his ears followed suit, revealing his embarrassment. An eerie silence hung in the air as everyone anxiously waited. “Well, go on. Are you Harry’s dog?” Draco teased.

Ron clenched his fist. “Malfoy, you—”

“— I said bark, are you giving up Weasel?!”

“Bark,” Ron said lifelessly.

“Patil!”

“Yes,” she stammered.

“Spell or cast?” Draco asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

“Cast,” said Padma.

With a mischievous grin, Draco taunted, “Lick Ron’s armpit.”

Padma shook her head and held her arms out in a clear no motion. “I’m not doing that,” she said firmly.

“Would you prefer his foot chicken?” he asked, the words dripping with sarcasm. “Bok bok, wait, that’s Weasley.”

Padma's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she reluctantly accepted Draco’s challenge.

Seething with rage, Hermione watched from a corner as Padma blushed and went ahead with it. Ron couldn’t contain his laughter any longer, and he abruptly moved away from Padma.

“Ugh, it smells and tastes like sweaty salt. I reckon I got a hair in my mouth,” Padma complained, plucking it off her tongue.

Hermione’s anger blossomed, retreating further away, unable to contain her frustration. Padma’s blush deepened, regretting her choice but committed to seeing it through. She had completed the task, earning a mix of laughter and disbelief from the onlookers.

Seated next to Padma was Dean’s turn had finally arrived. With a smirk, he commented, “Another Muggleborn to play with,” Draco's words laced with arrogance. Let’s see Thomas. Show us your best dance moves.”

Dean got up, and she had never seen a boy so nimble. He did the worm, effortlessly gliding across the floor. A split and a few Harlem shakes followed, showcasing his impressive dance skills. Then, he smoothly transitioned into the tootsie roll.

“Come up here, Kellah,” Dean called out. She eagerly joined him on the imaginary dance floor, and together, they started tapping their feet in perfect synchronization, moving front and back. They then hooked their feet and spun around in a circle, their movements mesmerizing the audience. Then cheers erupted, with excitement, but amidst the applause, Ron barked, and Malfoy remained silent.

 Just as the end approached, Kellah found herself losing her balance and nearly falling, but luckily, Dean was there to catch her. 

“It was okay,” Draco commented nonchalantly

Padma clapped. “It was brilliant.”

 Dean, ever the entertainer, playfully challenged Draco, “What can you do? The Macarena, perhaps?”

The Muggle-borns burst into laughter, finding humor in the light-hearted exchange. However, the rest of them fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Ron let out another loud bark, which caused everyone to laugh. Following that, a collective smile spread across everyone’s faces as their gaze shifted towards Draco. He was wide-eyed. 

Kellah playfully said, “Spell or Cast Draco,” winking slyly.

Draco hastily uttered the word “Spell.”

“Dang, that was quick,” Kellah teased.

“I have nothing to prove,” said Draco calmly, but his frightened demeanor proved that was a lie.

“Hey, scaredy-cat, what made you join the chess team, and why do you wanna win?” Kellah asked.

“Bark,” said Ron.

Draco’s gaze was fixed on the dancing flames, their flickering light casting shadows on his face. “I joined because of a girl. And I want my father to see me win something to be top of something at school.”

“I like that. I’ll answer, too,” said Dean. The fire crackled, its glow reflecting in his eyes.

“I’ll allow it. Everything sorted, we all agree to choose spell,” said Kellah.

They all nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting understanding. As they raised their glasses and clinked them together, the fizzy bubbles tickled their noses, making them take large, satisfying gulps.

With a satisfied expression, Dean leisurely took another sip of the delicious butterbeer. “Couldn’t join Quidditch, and the dueling club sucked, so this seemed cool. Winning is all I want for my team.”

Padma sighed softly, the sound blending with the gentle clink of the mug as she took a sip. “I’m a twin. People can’t tell me apart from my sister unless I’m in uniform. I’m always the ugly twin or the fat twin. My goal is to be known as the clever twin. I’d rather not be seen as a matched set.”

Hermione eyed her drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as she resisted the temptation to take a sip. “I’m a Muggleborn and a black girl, a double minority. The model minority. Being at the top of the class is a result of working twice as hard as my peers just to stay on par. I’m the best, and I’ll show everyone why. No one will dare to underestimate my capabilities. Even though you’re my teammates, I see you as my rivals as well." Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she shot a piercing gaze at Ron. She then hiccuped.

With a slight cough, Kellah cleared her throat, ready to begin her speech. “I joined ‘cause I wanted to hang out with my friends. I even confounded the competition. But now I want to show I deserve this spot, and I’m more than just a pretty face and a person who’s always fun to be around. I’m clever, too, and better at some things than you are.” Kellah glared at Hermione, her eyes burning with anger.

The last sip of butterbeer lingered on Ron’s lips as he set the empty mug down with a contented sigh. “Mostly I would fancy beating teen world champ Celine Castillon and the prize for a new wand. This year has been a learning drought for me because I broke it, and I’m afraid my family will find out. The prize money would be a lifeline for my family.” The pain in Ron’s eyes was unmistakable as if he was trying to hold back a flood of tears. “And you won’t go blabbing about how Kellah cheated to make the team right, Malfoy.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I probably wouldn’t be on the team if Kellah hadn’t done what she did so I won’t tattletail.”

“We can be like Michael Jordan at the Olympics for basketball. Or the Chicago Bulls taking them to victory two years in a row,” Dean said excitedly.

“Michael Jordan,” said Draco.

“Olympics,” said Ron.

“Basketball,” said Padma.

Hermione scoffed, “It’s a Muggle sport,” clearly unimpressed. “Everyone thinks this Michael Jordan is brilliant, but only people who say “brauv” and wear tracksuits watch it here.” 

“Ron is our MJ—brauv,” said Dean.

“It’s a compliment,” said Hermione.

“Thanks, I think,” said Ron.

As Kellah got up, she could feel the stiffness in her muscles from sitting on a log. Her butt was sore. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.”

“Can I Slytherin?” Draco said with a sly grin on his face.

“I’ll be shutting my Gryffindor,” said Kellah.

And Kellah did, but her mind became foggy, and she struggled to remember what happened next. Waking up in the tent, she could hear Dean and Draco softly breathing and feel their bodies pressed against hers. The predicament she found herself in left her feeling trapped and helpless, as she was stuck right in the middle. 

Kellah quietly tiptoed out of her hiding spot and was surprised to see Ron emerging from the tent belonging to the girls. “What happened?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but don’t tell a soul,” Ron said.

Noticing a smudge on his cheek, Kellah realized that it was lipgloss.

During breakfast that morning, Kellah seemed utterly out of sorts. Kellah blushed and looked down at her plate, embarrassed by the revelation. She couldn't remember anything from the previous night, and now she regretted whatever had happened. It seemed like things had gotten out of hand, and she couldn't believe that she had ended up in a compromising situation with both Dean and Draco.

Trying to shake off the confusion and embarrassment, Kellah decided to focus on the task at hand. She needed to prove herself to her friends and show that she was more than just a pretty face and the fun one. She wanted to be taken seriously and be recognized for her intelligence and skills.

As they continued with their breakfast, Kellah couldn't help but feel a bit distant from the conversation. Her mind was still foggy from the previous night's events, and she struggled to piece everything together. She desperately wanted to ask Ron about the lipgloss on his cheek, but she knew he had already clarified that they should keep whatever had happened a secret.

Feeling confused, regretful, and a lingering hangover, Kellah decided to focus on the upcoming challenges. She needed to regain her composure and prove herself on the team. She couldn't let this incident define or distract her from her goals.

Taking a deep breath, Kellah resolved to put the previous night's events behind her. She knew she had to work hard to earn her place on the team and show her worth. With determination in her eyes, she pushed aside her uncertainties and prepared herself for the challenges that lay ahead. But for some reason she couldn't.“I think I have a hangover.”

“What’d you guys do last night?” Harry asked.

Hermione found it hilarious. “Kellah and Ron got pissed drunk, and then Draco went into her tent. Dean followed suit, so poor Ron was left stranded in the girl’s tent with me and Padma.”

“I was cool with it,” Padma said, winking. 

“This isn't your table,” Ron said flatly as he read a magazine. “Bloody fucking hell!” 

Chapter Text

When the list for those to leave school was ready, the students rushed towards it, forming a mass of bodies that resembled a mob. Regrettably, the Wizard’s Chess Club was obligated to stay for the tournament. Dean and Padma would leave after it concluded. They would be stuck with Malfoy and his gang, but the Weasley family would most likely be there to support Harry, just like they always did, and Ron, who stood by Harry no matter what.

“We’ll be the only ones left,” Ron told them. “Us, and the Rotten Trio. What a jolly holiday it’s going to be.”

“Oh, Dean and Padma will be here too,” said Kellah.

“They have no choice if they stay and win the tournament or leave, and we forfeit. The school can’t take another loss. We need a win,” Ron banged his head on the table causing his porridge to nearly spill.

“You will win, Ron. You’re the best chess player in the school,” said Harry.

Ron’s face had an unhealthy, greenish hue. “I don’t know. Maybe Percy should be captain. Then I wouldn’t be stuck with all second years.”

Hermione slammed the book she was reading down. “Hey, I’m a second-year student, and I’m almost as good as you.”

Ron shook his head. “Not you, Hermione. You’re always brilliant.”

“No, Kellah, you’re brilliant too, really a team player,” Kellah said, mocking him in a deep voice.

“Wait, how did only second years make the team?” Hermione asked. “I think Kellah mentioned it the other night, but Padma made me drink too much.”

Harry quickly said. “You guys can’t help it if the upperclassmen were as bright as a black hole and twice as dense.” Harry then gave Kellah a knowing look.

As the school emptied out, Harry’s happiness seemed to increase.

When the term ended, Professor Sinistra cornered them. Today, she had long, straight hair flowing beneath her Christmas hat. “Dumbledore needs to see you three in the office about today's chess club tournament.”

“Can Harry come,” Kellah asked.

“He’s not—” Professor Sinistra trailed off when she saw Kellah’s irresistible puppy dog eyes. Understanding quickly, Ron mirrored the same behavior. Hermione did it with such perfection that it seemed as if she was on the brink of tears.

“Alright then, he can come, but he has to stick with me. He will watch behind the barrier by my side.”

Making their way to Dumbledore’s office, Harry couldn’t help but let out a little smile. Kellah’s nerves tingled as she stepped into this unfamiliar place. Although she felt a sense of unease, there was no actual trouble she was in.

The moment she stepped inside, a piercing light assaulted her eyes, leaving them throbbing with discomfort. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the sleepiness. Kellah saw that all the chess club players were present.

 The room had an air of grandeur, with its opulent furnishings and elegant architecture. The sorting hat, positioned in a  glass case, seemed to beckon them with its enchanting presence. Behind the pillars in the center of the room was the Headmaster’s desk.

 In a small cage, a colorful bird chirped and fluttered its wings. As Kellah looked closer, she realized that the creature she was observing was none other than a Phoenix, its wings spanning wide with feathers that shimmered like flames. Its presence demanded attention with its regal aura. Overwhelmed by her desire to pet it, Kellah allowed herself to forget her surroundings. Quickly regaining her composure when she caught Dumbledore staring at her. She lined up with the other kids, but not before Draco took the opportunity to snicker at her. 

The Headmaster’s gaze lingered on Kellah for a moment before quickly darting towards Harry. Remaining seated, Dumbledore gestured towards a steaming teapot. “Littles ones, I need you all to grab this portkey, and it shall transport you to the tournament—all except for Harry, he will be with you shortly.”

Turning sharply, Draco’s lips curled into a sneer as his eyes locked with Harry’s. As Professor Sinistra swiftly grabbed the portkey, they all instinctively interlocked their hands. Kellah experienced a sensation of being pulled in different directions as if her body was being stretched apart. Then, suddenly, she returned to her normal state but found herself plummeting downwards. Professor Sinistra’s dedication as a teacher was clear as she earnestly straightened out the students, ensuring they maintained an upright position throughout the entire time. They landed on their feet, thanks to Professor Sinistra. Well, Kellah and Draco did. Everyone else fell flat on their faces.

She had the sudden realization that she was holding both Dean’s and Draco’s hands, and it appeared that neither of them had any intention of letting go. Withdrawing her hand, she proceeded to stand beside Professor Sinistra. 

Boys were the last thing on her mind today, as she had much to accomplish, for it was the day of the big tournament.

Casting a quick glance in Hermione and Ron’s direction, Kellah noticed their mutual embarrassment, as neither could bring themselves to make eye contact. Kellah tried to wander but failed to flee, only to be thwarted by Professor Sinistra’s skillful use of a binding spell that ensured they remained together. 

Suddenly, Harry materialized right beside her. As he stumbled and lost his balance, he crashed to the ground, his face meeting the unforgiving surface. Without hesitation, she reached out and lifted him back up.

Kellah asked, “What were Dumbledore’s exact words?” eager to hear the response.

Looking directly at Draco, Harry said, “I’ll tell you later.”

The reach of the binding rope, which never failed to pull them back whenever they went too far, always limited their explorations. It seemed like it was happening to Kellah all the time.

As they stood before Flourish and Blotts, the sight of the colorful bookstore captivated them, beckoning them with promises of chess adventures. Looking through the window at the front, she saw many children seated at various tables. Upon entering, a small crowd of people greeted them. Behind a barrier, their faces lit up with anticipation and the constant flashing of cameras capturing every moment.

Students and educators had traveled from far and wide to attend, representing schools from every corner of the globe. Kellah felt a sense of joy as she realized she only needed to wear her school cloak and everyday clothes. Of course, Draco had picked it out himself, as all the clothes her mum bought were traditional.

They spotted a group of four towering kids, two of whom were girls with long, golden locks. The girl flirtatiously blew a kiss at the boys, rendering them transfixed and frozen in awe. The older blonde was at the center of the room playing chess but still purposely bumped into the other girl, causing the boys to snap out of their trance suddenly.

That girl, Celine Castillon, dressed in a lilac robe and a hat that concealed her blonde hair, was engaged in a game of simultaneous chess with some of the world's best players. The room was at full capacity with  people, all eager to witness her remarkable skills. To everyone's amazement, she had emerged victorious in every match. There was applause and she did a polite curtsy when the camera flashed.

Ron, in awe of Celine's talent, whispered to his friends, "It's really her, the Matagot of Wizard's Chess." 

Curious, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "What's a matagot?"

“It’s like a magical cat. It can multiply and be vicious when provoked,” said Kellah, making a hissing noise.

“Precisely,” said Hermione. “But you forgot it resembles a black cat. There are some in the Magical Creature Reserve at school.”

Kellah, intrigued, expressed her desire.“We have one of those, why haven't I been told?” 

However, Ron interrupted, exclaiming, "We're talking about Celine! Oh, my word, here she comes. Do you think I can get her autograph?"

As Celine approached, greeting everyone with a warm "Bonjour," she kissed each person on both cheeks. When she reached Kellah, she couldn't help but notice the shine of her blonde hair and the deep blue of her eyes. 

Ron, impressed, remarked, "That was wicked!" Then he touched his cheek and his ears became crimson. 

Celine humbly replied, “I can play chess blindfolded. Actually, I have.” She placed a hand on her hip.“Are you here to watch?” 

“No, to compete,” said Ron eager to showcase his chess skills.

“But you’re so itty bitty,” Celine teased.

Ron proudly responded, "I grew four inches over the summer." 

Celine replied with a French proverb, "Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid" (Little by little, the bird builds its nest).

Confused, Harry asked, " So sorry, what was that?" 

The Matagot of Wizards Chess glanced at Harry momentarily and then extended her hand, saying, "I look forward to playing against you, Harry." 

Harry hesitated, "I'm not competing, Ron is the one you'll be playing."

“Oh well, he’ll do,” she snapped her fingers at a the most beautiful person Kellah had ever seen. "Come along Fleur." The girl curtsied then followed.

They walked off, and then Ron slumped to the ground. “Now I'm nervous.”

Malfoy, overhearing their conversation, slyly remarked, "Weren't you nervous before?" He then followed Celine, engaging her in conversation in French.

Right in the midst of sizing up the rest of their rivals, Lockhart made a sudden entrance. Camera flashes went off incessantly as he crowded around the kids. “Had to support my students. I personally taught them myself, especially dear old Harry here.” He spoke directly to the camera man. 

Involuntarily, Harry winced, his face contorting in reaction to the sudden sensation. “I’m not on the team, professor.”

Lockhart chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Of course you aren’t, dear boy, I meant—”

“Ron—,” Kellah whispered.

“Yes, Ronald, here, my star pupil,” he said, moving from Harry to rub Ron’s shoulders.

Hermione’s mouth fell open in protest, her eyes narrowing in anger. “But I—” Kellah kicked her leg, and Hermione rubbed it, stewing in silence.

“Oh, you’re here.” Lockhart then glared at Kellah. “Must be off so many adoring fans. Oh, there's Celine.”

Harry went straight to Professor Sinistra. “What’s he doing here?”

“It’s one adult to five kids, and he was the only one available,” Sinistra shrugged. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Taking another look at the competition, they noticed participants had come from every one of the eleven wizarding schools. Kellah leaned into the group, her eyes darting between their animated faces. “Does anyone speak a different language? I speak English and Swahili?”

“I speak French,” gloated Malfoy as he walked back from his chat with Celine.

“I speak Hindi and English,” said Padma.

Dean stepped forward, his boots crunching on a fallen book. “I speak English, French, Portuguese, and Spanish.”

Everyone turned to look at him. “That’s loads trying to collect them all?” Harry pondered aloud.

“My stepdad felt bad ‘cause I was the only boy round girls. Turns out my mum is from Barbados, Brazil, and she moved here and met my real dad, who’s apparently French. Then, my stepdad’s family was from Spain, but they moved here when he was a young lad. So yeah, I actually got a letter from Beauxbaton, Castelobruxo, and Hogwarts.”

“Are you Muggle rich?” asked Malfoy.

“Well, my stepdad's a lawyer, and my mum’s a doctor.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Harry asked.

“You didn't bother to ask.” Dean blinked hard instead of rolling his eyes.

“Your blood is still dirty maybe now—ow!” Malfoy’s sudden shriek abruptly cut off the sentence, sounding surprisingly high-pitched and resembling that of a girl. 

Professor Sinistra was pulling his ear with a firm grip. “Mr. Malfoy, I implore you not to force me into embarrassing you in front of all these people.”

“Oh, he does quite alright on his own,” said Harry.

As she pulled him away, the kids snickered at the sight.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the situation.“We still need to inform them we’re here as a team.”

The chess club walked up to the counter, the smooth marble surface cool against their fingertips. The shopkeeper was there, her dark skin complimented by purple robes and a turban, which, after last year, Kellah wasn’t a fan of. “I’m Madam Villanelle shopkeeper, state your school and names, if you please.”

Hermione chuckled. “What a poetic family name to think you were almost Villanella. How melodical.”

Madam Villanelle gave Hermione a blank stare. “Wow, never heard that before. Actually, I have but never quite that badly.”

Kellah suppressed a laugh.

“Hermione Granger—representing Hogwarts School of —Witchcraft and Wizardry,” she said, stumbling on her words.

They all went through, one by one, and listed their names. Madam Villanelle’s quill scratched against the paper as she wrote it down. “What are your ratings?”

“Ratings?” Kellah asked.

“You need ratings. It helps put you in different ranks for who you play next. Since this is everyone’s first time, your rankings will be zero,” said Madam Villanelle.

“What’s the champ, Celine Castellion’s rank?” asked Ron.

“It’s 2,217, which means after this, she can play professionally.”

Ron gasped, “She's almost a National Master.”

 “Also, you only need four players. You have six,” Madam Villanelle continued to write on the parchment paper.

Leaving the desk behind, they walked away, their steps becoming fainter with each passing moment. “Ron, you’re the leader, decide,” said Hermione.

“Can’t someone else do it?” asked Ron, ears turning red.

“I could, but I’m not the captain you are,” said Hermione.

Suddenly, Lockhart’s expression transformed into one of pure joy as he approached, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “You know children—”

“No,” Kellah glared. Lockhart stalked off.

“How did you do that, and can you keep doing it?” Harry asked.

“I can do anything—if you let me,” Kellah teased.

Rolling his eyes, Ron motioned for everyone to gather around. Draco’s animated gestures and laughter revealed his enthusiasm as he talked to the Durmstrang students. Dean and Beauxbaton were engrossed in a conversation, their voices mingling with the sounds of the bustling crowd. Padma was engrossed in her book, utterly oblivious to the world around her. They all came over, somewhat annoyed.

“Right, apparently we only need four players. So Hermione, Padma, and I are playing. You three decide amongst yourself,” he said in one breath.

Harry patted his back. “Well said, Ron.”

Now, standing before her were Draco and Dean, their intense gazes locked onto hers. Draco folded his arms tightly, showing his frustration. “I refuse to not play wizard’s chess over Mud—,” he looked at Kellah. “Muggleborns.” It seemed quite difficult for him to not say the word.

The corners of Dean’s mouth turned up into a genuine smile. “You’re better than me, so I’ll resign gracefully,” he glared at Draco.

Shocked Draco glared at Dean then changed his tune. “I’m doing this for the school, so we better win, Dellarose,” Draco said, bumping her shoulder.

A deep frown creased Dean’s forehead. “I guess he can be nice.”

With a burst of energy, Kellah rushed up to Ron, her breath coming out in quick, excited gasps. “Looks like I’m up.”

All four of them approached the counter, eager. One by one, they received their opponents. Then came the moment Kellah had been waiting for - it was finally her turn. “You will play Alanza Alves, rank 1563 representative of Castleobruxo board four. You play as white.”

With hesitant steps, Kellah made her way to her board, feeling a knot of nerves in her stomach. For months, she had only played her team and a handful of Hogwarts students. If she hadn’t slipped those potions and confounded a few upper-classmen, she doubted she would even be standing here. None of that mattered anymore.

She stood by her chair, anxiously scanning the room for her opponent. He had a sun-kissed complexion, complemented by light brown eyes and hair. Her outstretched hand hung in the air, untouched, as her opponent coldly ignored her gesture.

Alanza sat, “Are you read dee chil.”

Kellah confidently moved her king’s pawn, igniting the Slytherin Defense Dragon Variation. She tapped her opponent’s clock, marking her move in the game. Her mind was set on nothing but launching a fierce attack. “Sorry, I couldn’t understand you with that thick accent.”

Alanza carefully commanded his bishop’s pawn forward, the wooden piece scraping softly against the chessboard. “How progressive of you. You’re a Muggleborn, correc.”

With a strategic move, Kellah advanced her knight to protect her king bishop’s pawn, the smooth texture of the chess piece gliding on the board. “I am.”

Kellah’s determination remained unwavering. Ten moves were all she needed to bring her opponent down in defeat. As Alanza’s clock continued to tick away, reaching thirty minutes, hers barely moved, stuck at a mere five.

Alanza’s decision left his king defenseless, giving Kellah a chance to seize the opportunity and move the knight to g7. “I though you were ifferen. I guess muddy bloodies are irty on the inside.”

Kellah’s knight gracefully glided to d6, the click of the piece hitting the wooden board punctuating her strategic move. “I’ve been called worse checkmate.”

Standing there, waiting for a handshake, she was taken aback as her hand was slapped with surprising strength. As the camera flashed, the Castleobruxo student hurriedly dashed away, disappearing into the crowd. Lockhart made an appearance to take a photo with Kellah, capturing a memorable moment.

“I knew you could do it.” Lockhart took the picture then hurriedly sprinted towards Ron, interrupting him during his intense game.

Kellah returned to the counter, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafted by as she walked between ongoing chess games. Padma was at a table playing with her plait.

Madam Villanelle sipped her tea.“Done and so fast. It won’t always be this easy. Next opponent is Keiko Takahashi, ranked 1674 from Mahoutokoro board ten in an hour.”

Kellah was so surprised that her jaw dropped open. “An hour? How long is this tournament?”

“A day or three depends on the players,” the owner said.

 As she walked off the tournament floor after her first match, a sense of pride washed over her for a job well done. Most of it was driven by rage, but she understood she needed more than that. The top players possessed minds akin to computers, always strategizing their next move, or they operated purely on instinct.

The bathroom at the back of the store beckoned to Kellah, offering a momentary escape from the hustle and bustle of the crowded aisles. She passed Harry behind a rope waving.

The lavatory had clearly undergone expansion, transforming the once two-stall area into a bustling space with twenty stalls. 

After quickly using the bathroom, she rushed to the sink and rinsed her hands, feeling the cool water wash away the germs. Her reflection in the mirror revealed a red tint to her eyes and an unsettling figure of a man lurking in the corner of her sight. When she turned to look, no one was there, and her eyes returned to their usual state. To calm her nerves she washed her face, feeling the refreshing splash of water on her skin.

The mounting stress took its toll on her. She ran back into the stall for a minute. Using her magic, she created a lid for the toilet, complete with a cushion for added comfort, before taking a seat. She took a deep breath and took a minute to simply be still. There were still four more of these to be done by her. She had to strive for success. Out of Dean, Draco, and herself, she was the one who had been picked to join the team, even though technically only Ron and maybe Hermione were supposed to be on it. Regardless of whether or not they won, it didn’t matter to her, so she would go to great lengths to use her brain as much as possible to achieve that.

Stepping out of the stall, she rewashed her hands, and then she took a moment to freshen up by wiping her face clean yet again. Kellah took a deep breath, then walked out smiling.

Seeking help, Kellah approached the counter and patiently waited for her turn. “Your opponent will be there shortly. Just wait for them when it is 10:00 am. They should be there. If not, make your move if you’re white and start their clock.”

Kellah hadn't realized she was in the lavatory that long.“You can do that,” she asked.

“If they are late, yes.”

Just as she was about to reach her seat, Dean unexpectedly stopped in front of her, causing her to nearly collide with him. “You did great. Keep it up,” he gave her a hug.

“No biggie, it was only the one game.”

“One more match than I had,” he smiled, his dimples peeking out.

After finishing her conversation, she walked over to Harry. Near him, a bustling crowd had gathered, and she had to wave them off. “Are you having fun watching everyone strain their brains?”

“Yes, delighted, it’s not me for once. I’ll save the mystery for Hogwarts,” said Harry.

“Have you spotted Ron and Hermione?”

“Ron is pacing about like mad. His second match is soon, and Hermione is off somewhere trying to read before her next match.”

“I don’t know why he’s worried he beat Professor McGonagall’s chess set for the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Been wondering why isn’t she here for this,” he asked.

“Well, she’s the Deputy Headmistress, and the Chamber of Secrets is open.”

“More chess, less stress,” said Harry.

“That was a rhyme,” said Kellah

 “We do it all the time,” Kellah and Harry chimed in unison.

“—Dellarose,” yelled Villanelle, interrupting their flow.

Rushing over to table ten, Kellah flashed a big grin and waved goodbye to Harry with a cheerful, double-handed gesture. 

Her hand reached out to her opponent, but they surprised her by responding with a respectful bow. Kellah bowed, too, her head at the same level as the person in front of her.

“I am Takahashi. It is an honor to play chess as your opponent.”

Kellah bit her lip, feeling a slight sting as her teeth sank into the tender flesh. “The honor is all mine,” she said nervously.

Sitting together, Takahashi took a moment to ponder their piece before making a decisive move. With a swift motion, the knight advanced to f3, creating a strategic position on the chessboard. Most people began with pawns, using a cautious and strategic opening. From this point forward, Kellah knew well that she would enter a fierce and grueling fight. Opting for a tried-and-true strategy, she opened the game by moving her king’s pawn two spaces ahead. Employing this strategy, she had a knack for countering most moves of her adversaries. Placing her knight pawn two spaces ahead, Takahashi cleverly erected a well-constructed blockade. 

Takahashi’s opening move was the King’s Indian Defense, signaling her intent to play aggressively and control the center of the board. It was crucial for Kellah to address this matter right away. To thwart her opponent’s bishop, she strategically advanced her own bishop’s pawn by one square. With strategic foresight, she had already mapped out counter moves in her mind, prepared for any scenario where the opponent might capture one of her pawns or employ an alternative piece. Being on the defensive was not her preference; she desired to go on the attack. Takahashi left one of her pawns untouched on the chessboard. Using the bishop as a pivotal piece to secure the constructed blockade. Sensing an opportunity, Kellah made a decisive move, shifting her king’s bishop to increase the pressure on the blockade.

Halfway through the game, she skillfully maneuvered her pieces, sacrificing a pawn to create a trap, rendering her opponent’s captured piece useless against her. Takahashi’s bishop was cornered, surrounded by its pawns, unable to move. In her haste, Takahashi had disturbed the delicate formation on their queen’s flank. In chess, it was not advantageous to favor one side. Takahashi had failed to concentrate on the entire board, overlooking crucial details.

As the middle game unfolded, the white player focused on finding an opening, determined to regain momentum after being caught in a trap. While they were busy, Kellah painstakingly built a blockade, carefully arranging each piece precisely. Once Kellah safely castled her queen, she knew it was just a waiting game to use their bishop to checkmate her opponent's exposed king. “Checkmate.”

As Kellah bowed and her opponent reciprocated, she swiftly approached Harry and Professor Sinistra, eager to join them. “Are they going to feed us?” she asked.

Professor Sinistra’s gaze shifted from Harry to Kellah, studying them intently. “Don’t your parents feed you two.”

“No,” they said together. Their eyes met briefly, silently communicating, before returning their attention to the Professor.

“Lunch is at twelve, which isn’t far off,” Professor Sinistra. 

When lunch finally arrived, it comprised delicate tea and dainty finger sandwiches. Memories of the delicious feasts at Hogwarts flooded her mind, making her miss the food even more. Among the assortment of fruit, she plucked an apple and took a juicy bite. She then saw a tempting pile of cookies, each one more delicious-looking than the last, and couldn’t resist grabbing one of each until Professor Sinistra reprimanded her, forcing her to settle for just one.

Ron was scarfing down his meal with such intensity it was as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Chew your food, stop inhaling it,” said Hermione.

A smile adorned the face of the professor as they looked at Ron. “If you keep eating like that, you’re going to choke on your food.”

Padma blushed and said, “I think it’s funny.”

Draco took out his prepared French lunch, a spread of baguettes, cheeses, and charcuterie. He offered some to Lockhart, who sat silently glaring at Kellah, an unusual contrast to his typically boisterous demeanor. He devoured his meal faster than Ron, then eagerly went over to sign autographs for his adoring fans.

With precision, Malfoy elegantly retrieved a set of polished fine cutlery and delicately sliced into the quiche. After he took the last bite, he reached for a handkerchief to gently pat his mouth before unveiling a luscious dessert souffle.

“They are feeding us. Why’d you bring that?” Kellah asked, trying not to touch the handkerchief Malfoy gave her.

With an air of disdain, Malfoy rolled his eyes in response. “I am not eating that peasant food. I have a delicate palate.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s delicate,” said Harry.

The club members burst into laughter, causing Malfoy to put his food away angrily. “Professor, did you hear what Potter said?”

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m sorry I didn’t. I was too busy eating my peasant food,” said Professor Sinistra.

After that, Malfoy remained seated in silence, his expression unreadable. Engaging in conversation with one another, it appeared that all of them were making their way towards the next round. The finals were right around the corner, and the competitors had all put on a strong performance leading up to this point.

Kellah was surprised by how far she had gotten. She had lost to Ron so much she hadn't realized she had become a better player in the process. Ron wasn't particularly good at teaching but he was good at demonstrating as long as he didn't notice you were there. 

Following their meal, they huddled together to obtain the sheet and table number for their next opponent. When it was her turn, Kellah was prepared, although her stomach was still churning.

“You will play Fleur Delacour at board five ranked 1752 she will be white,” Villanelle said unimpressed.

Kellah’s stomach plummeted, and she felt uncomfortably full as if she had devoured a feast. As she approached table five, she could hear the lively chatter of the guests. And there, standing before her, was the most stunning girl she had ever seen. Without any apparent reason, Kellah took Fleur’s hand and planted a gentle kiss on it, leaving her wondering what prompted such a gesture. A delightful giggle escaped from the girl’s lips. “Enchante, eets an ‘onor to meet ou.”

Kellah attempted to speak, but her tongue felt tangled and uncooperative. As they stood there, someone walked up to them, their presence noticeable even before they spoke. “No Veela magic during the match. You have been warned,” said Villanelle, visibly annoyed.

“Sorry for zat,” Fleur said, flipping her golden locks that seemed to shimmer in the light.“Eets normally with men.”

As they sat, Kellah could feel her worries slowly melting away. She wasn’t sure what had happened, though the shop owner had mentioned the use of Veela magic. Kellah had inquired about such magical creatures with the ability to charm those attracted to women. That told Kellah something about herself she wasn't ready to acknowledge. But Fleur was a wizard so she had to be at least half or a quarter Veela. Especially since wizards did not let other magical beings possess a wand. Before she knew it Fleur had made her first move. How long had Kellah been distracted by her?

Fleur moved, opening with the French Defense, a tactic Kellah had studied before. Her opponent made their move, confidently pushing their king’s pawn forward. Smoothly sailing through the game, Kellah’s sharp eye caught sight of her opponent’s exposed king with only a few moves in. With a calculated strategy in mind, Fleur carefully maneuvered her queen’s rook into a new position. “Check,” Fleur said.

With impressive speed and precision, Kellah swiftly defended against the attack by skillfully using a bishop to block. Now, there was no way to get to her king in a linear way. In a moment of sheer folly, Fleur moved her knight to g4, a move that would prove to be her downfall. At this point, Fleur was done. Kellah could win by force now. Realizing the castle's importance and the knight’s positioning, Kellah castled, ensuring her king’s safety while pressing forward for victory. Fleur moved her knight in, taking the bishop, and the trap was set in stone. In response, she cleverly countered with a pawn on the chessboard. 

Fleur’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked over the board, trying to understand what had just happened. She was trying to think her way out of the box, but she had trapped herself inside it. Fleur’s relentless efforts to infiltrate the game were met, with Kellah strategically capturing more of her pieces, leaving her king increasingly vulnerable until a double check occurred. Kellah confidently hit her opponent’s clock after saying, “Check,” the sharp click resonating in the air.

Fleur was about to move her piece back, but then she hesitated, her hand frozen in mid-air and Kellah thought she saw a bird-like beak flash like that of a harpy on Fleur’s face.“Zat eez et I resign,” Fleur said, offering her hand.

“Good game,” Kellah said, clapping her hands in appreciation. She took Fleur’s hand and noticed how soft it was and she wanted to kiss it again.

“I ad ou in ze beginning,” she said with a sly grin.

Kellah winked and added, “But, as it turned out, not in the end.”

Fleur gracefully walked away, moving closer to Ron’s table, causing both boys to become momentarily dazed. It took the quick intervention of one of the tournament assistants to snap them out of their trance. The lack of compensation for the time delay disappointed them, but thankfully, Ron was not the one who had to deal with it.

Kellah’s energy was completely depleted. Playing chess against a Veela took lots of concentration and Fleur was actually good. It left her brain fried and her body yearning for rest. She was unsure if she had lost the ability to think, but when she saw Padma, she couldn’t resist slumping down beside her. “I can’t think anymore. It hurts.”

“That means you’re on the verge of an epiphany,” said Padma.

“I’ve played Castelobruxo, Mahoutokoro, and Beauxbaton. How about you?” asked Kellah.

“I played Koldovstoretz, Ilvermorny, and Durmstrang. They were all quite mean, especially the American school,” said Padma.

“I got called a Mudblood again. If I wanted to be treated like this, I would’ve stayed in the Muggle world,” Kellah said.

“Really?” asked Padma, shocked.

“No, not my cup of tea. I like magic too much.”

After chatting briefly, Kellah excused herself and headed over to find out her next opponent. The room fell into silence when Kellah learned who her next opponent was, leaving only the sound of her own racing heartbeat. All she could hear were faint whispers and a piercing, high-pitched noise. “What,” she asked.

“Your next opponent,” Villanelle said, “is none other than Hermione Granger. You play as black board three.”

Kellah went to the table, her hands trembling with nerves. She had put in the same amount of effort as Hermione, practicing and reading extensively, so she knew she could succeed. Kellah took a seat before Hermione, who sat down in a huff. “May the player with the greatest talent prevail,” Hermione proclaimed, setting the tone for a fierce contest.

Kellah focused all her attention, blocking out any distractions, as she waited for Hermione to make her move. The opening move her opponent chose was a common strategy found in chess textbooks. Counteracting it becomes simple when you’re familiar with what to search for. 

The game progressed, Kellah observed Hermione's hesitation and indecisiveness. She knew this was her chance to strike and exploit her opponent's weakness. With each move, Kellah strategically maneuvered her pieces, anticipating Hermione's next move and countering it swiftly.

As the tension mounted, Kellah could feel the intensity in the air. Both players were fully engaged, focusing solely on the chessboard in front of them. Kellah's hands trembled less with nerves and more with excitement, fueled by the prospect of victory.

With each move, Kellah gained an edge, slowly but steadily inching toward a winning position. She could see the frustration mounting on Hermione's face, her usual confidence wavering. Kellah admired Hermione's intelligence and skill, but she knew that in this particular contest, her own quick thinking and ability to adapt were her greatest assets.

As the middle stage of the game approached, Kellah's confidence grew. She was well-prepared for this moment, having extensively studied various strategies and tactics. She knew that this was the critical phase that would determine the outcome of the game.

The game neared its climax, Kellah's moves became bolder and more calculated. She saw Hermione's defenses crumbling, her plans unraveling. It was clear that Kellah's advantage in quick thinking and split-second decision-making was turning the tide in her favor.

Although Hermione was skilled, she struggled with quick thinking and making split-second decisions. Her plans were usually foolproof, but when they didn’t go as expected, Hermione had to rely on Harry’s quick thinking and improvisation skills. That's why Harry and her were such good friends, and Ron was always there to motivate them to do what needed to be done. However, since both of them were absent at the moment, Kellah saw an opportunity to take advantage of that particular flaw in their character. “Checkmate.”

Completely blindsided, Hermione never saw it coming. Without uttering a word, Hermione flipped her king and vanished, leaving only the sight of her wild, untamed hair in Kellah’s view.

At that moment, Kellah knew she had earned her place among the skilled players. She had proven that talent alone was not enough, but it was the combination of skill, preparation, and quick thinking that genuinely made a champion. Or so she thought.

Feeling the strain from sitting for hours, she eagerly stretched her body, longing for relief. Kellah confidently approached the counter, ready to face her next opponent. “You have Celine Castillon for the semi-finals table two.”

Her once strong confidence had vanished completely. “Oh, bloody hell, my head already hurts. How am I supposed to think my way out of this?”

“I don’t know, but you have five minutes.”

As Kellah hurried to the bathroom, a wave of pressure threatened to overwhelm her, making her feel like she was on the brink of exploding. Settling into a stall, she reached into her bra and pulled out her journal Malfoy’s handkerchief nearly spilled out but she ignored it. 

The scene shifted, and Kellah suddenly observed a man with dark hair and eyes as deep as the night, enveloped in a chess game. With its flawless design, the Riddle’s Gambit stood as the epitome of a perfect defense. It had the possibility of being a superior strategy compared to the Sicilian defense. The plan was deceptively subtle, designed with hidden traps to catch the opponent off guard. It's a defense that surprised you at the end.

With a smile of anticipation, she was all set to go, only to realize that history was about to repeat itself. She watched it again, carefully committing every detail to memory. It was shown to her once more. It didn’t take long for Kellah to realize that she would witness this scene for a lifetime.

After what felt like an endless repetition, she sat in a tight ball, her head pounding, attempting to preserve the intricate dance of chess pieces within her, terrified they would scatter.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound was lost in the vast emptiness of a memory, unheard by anyone. In her panic, she cried and frantically clawed at the walls, desperately searching for an exit.

Bored of staring at the wall for what seemed like an endless number of moves, she entertained herself by verbally announcing each player's moves, relying solely on her recollection..

Once again, she recalled the lines they would utter even the inflections to keep herself sane.

In the end, she dedicated herself to documenting every single moment of each chess player reenacting every move, and only at that point did it finally cease.

Now, she returned to the bathroom stall, where she had been just a moment ago. Kellah’s racing heart and overwhelming panic made it hard for her to think clearly. Startled, she turned her attention to the insistent knocking on her stall door. A powerful force seized control of her body, compelling her to hastily tuck the diary into her bra, out of sight.

“I know you’re in there!” Hermione shouted.

“Yes, Hermione.”

“It’s your turn against Celine, and she already started your clock.”

Kellah heard that, but her mind was elsewhere as she walked on autopilot to her seat, ignoring her opponent’s extended hand. She immediately delved into the Riddle Gambit. With only thirty minutes left, she reassured herself that she had enough time to complete it. Kellah had been lost in that memory for what felt like an eternity but it was not the same for everyone else.

Each step she took was methodical and precise, mirroring exactly what she had seen before. The path to triumph was clear, and all it would take were a few more calculated moves. She could see the king being taken. Celine’s abilities were impressive, but Kellah’s talents surpassed her thanks to Riddle.

“Your clock ‘as run out,” Celine said.

Suddenly, Kellah snapped out of her daze and realized her surroundings. She asked, “What?” with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Your clock eet ran out. If you got ‘ere early ‘ou  would ‘ave won.”

As Celine reached out to shake her hand, Kellah pulled back, avoiding physical contact. As she sat there, her frustration mounted, making her want to yank out her hair. She found herself trapped in that memory for an indeterminate amount of time, painstakingly trying to unravel the secrets of Riddle’s Defense, only to be defeated in the end by the relentless ticking of the clock. The overwhelming sadness made her eyes sting, and she blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling. She couldn’t cry, not here in front of everyone.

In her moment of distress, she longed for someone to provide comfort, but unfortunately, everyone was engrossed in their own affairs. She rose from her seat slowly, her muscles protesting the movement. Her eyes welled up with tears as she ran outside, but she didn’t stop walking even when Draco tried to grab her. “Where are you going, Dellarose.”

“I did everything but still lost because of thirty minutes,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

Standing still, Malfoy suddenly surprised her by wrapping his arms around her tightly. “I know what it’s like to lose, too. I lose all the time to your friend Potter, but I keep trying.”

As she clung to him, tears streamed down Kellah’s face, her cries muffled against his chest. Tear tracks marred the pristine white of his shirt. Time seemed to stand still as she wept in his embrace. “I let the team down.”

“Ron’s got this. Despite his family, he’s a chess prodigy.”

For Draco, that was the closest he could come to giving a compliment, which spoke volumes. Their intense gaze held the promise of a kiss, but Kellah’s heart skipped a beat as she spotted her team drawing near, causing her to push him away swiftly. “Ron made it to the finals,” yelled Harry.

“It was luck. I still got to be beat, Celine. Anything could happen. It was bad luck you got her before I did, Kellah,” said Ron.

She nodded. “Bad luck.”

“Dearie, are you alright?” asked Professor Sinistra.

It was unexpected when Malfoy spoke up. “Her brain is just fired too much chess.”

A grimace appeared on the professor’s face when she looked at Malfoy. “Considering that we require rest for tomorrow, I suggest we make our way to the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Leaky Cauldron,” Malfoy asked, “is it true that we won’t be returning to school?”

“Who cares? Let’s go,” said Harry obviously not wanting to see other Hogwart students.

“Wait, where’s Lockhart?” asked Kellah, scanning the area for any sign of their chaperone.

“Booking a room elsewhere, leaving me to handle all the responsibilities.”

“I wish I had a different room,” Malfoy muttered quietly.

After a long and exhausting day, they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron, their tired bodies barely able to carry them. Harry’s entrance caused a collective gaze to shift towards him, and he immediately started grooming his hair, paying particular attention to the area around his scar.

The Professor successfully obtained all the room keys. “Okay, four boys, three girls to a room, and one for me.”

Malfoy folded his arms, a scowl forming on his face. “I think not. I’ll buy my own room.”

Then dinner was quickly devoured, but Kellah pushed her plate away untouched, lacking any appetite. Oblivious to everything else, Ron focused on indulging himself with food and boasting about his place in the finals while she maintained an emotional distance.

Dinner was over in a flash, and she found herself freshly bathed and tucked into bed, ready for a good night’s sleep. Staring at the ceiling, she listened to Hermione and Padma’s animated conversation about chess.

Startled, she jumped at the unexpected knock on the door, wondering who could be on the other side. As Padma turned the handle, the door creaked open. The person in question was their Professor.

“I’m just doing a quick headcount to ensure everyone is accounted for,” she clarified, glancing at each person in the room. Wearing a headscarf and a bathrobe, she stated, “I want you all in bed soon.”

Kellah could instantly tell that Padma was Parvati’s twin sister as she began her night prayers with no hesitation.

 Just as they dozed off, the unexpected sound of a knock at the door jolted them awake. 

Padma answered the door, sure it was the professor again. It was the boys, each clutching a soda and sweets in their hands, at the door.

“What are you lot doing here?” Padma said.

“I’m telling,” said Hermione.

“We came to lift Kellah’s spirits. She was quiet at dinner,” said Dean.

“Don’t be a tattletail Hermione,” Ron said making his way through the room. 

With a groan, Kellah slowly sat up on the bed, feeling the warmth of the blankets slowly dissipate. “I’m fine,” she replied, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

As objects rained down on her, their nature concealed beneath a cover, the bed became a lively trampoline for others to enjoy.

Reluctantly, she removed the covers and sat up, begrudgingly sipping on butterbeer. After she chugged the second, she felt better, or she was hopped up on caffeine and alcohol. “Wait, where’s Malfoy?”

“Crying himself to sleep,” said Harry.

As everyone laughed, Kellah tried to laugh a little, too. Since she wasn’t feeling it, she ate a lot of sweets to improve her mood. With a sugar rush, she hastily grabbed an empty butterbeer and playfully waved it in the air as she joyfully jumped on the bed. “Let’s give Spin the bottle a go.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise as she accidentally inhaled a gulp of her butterbeer, causing her to choke. “I don’t think I’m ready for a girl-boy party.”

Kellah,  jumped off the bed lying on the floor, and pointed out, “You’re already here.”

“I’m ready,” Padma announced, sitting beside Kellah.

They formed a circle, one by one, until Hermione took her place as the final one to sit. “Alright, here’s the plan - if it lands on you, you gotta kiss for ten seconds. And if you hesitate, it must be a French kiss. So, who’s up first?”

The bottle remained untouched as if it held a mysterious power that no one dared to disturb. There was a brief silence before Dean made a decisive move and snatched it up. “I’ll give it a go.”

The bottle spun round and round, creating a dizzying blur of colors, until it pointed directly at Kellah. That was something she had not foreseen or expected to happen and she was a Seer. He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. “It’s ten seconds. You ready.”

“I’ve done this before,” she said. “Let’s have a good showing.”

She grabbed his bathrobe, pulling him closer until their bodies pressed against each other. Their lips met in a lingering kiss, lasting a blissful ten seconds that felt like an eternity. It was a kiss that surpassed even the one she had shared with Malfoy.

As soon as the ten seconds elapsed, she jumped up and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Who’s next in line?”

“I am,” said a voice, but it wasn’t anyone inside the room. Their attention shifted as Professor Sinistra entered the room, causing everyone to glance in her direction. “Bed.”

With just those words, the guys scattered in a hurry while the girls eagerly settled into their beds. Kellah quickly succumbed to sleep, her mind abandoning thoughts of chess and instead conjuring up dreams of the lingering sensation of that unforgettable kiss.

Chapter Text

It was the last day of the tournament, and Kellah looked like crap and felt like it. Not even Padma’s devoted prayers could rouse her from her slumber. All the other girls had gotten themselves ready and were already dressed. 

While Kellah was examining herself in the mirror, she discovered that her eyes had turned red. Kellah, who had habitually used her wand to dress herself, momentarily forgot that she was not at school and instinctively reached for it. Today, she didn’t even bother to care about what she wore. Instead of changing into fresh clothes, she wore the attire she had on yesterday. In a foul mood, she walked out of the bathroom. 

“You look dreadful,” said Padma.

Kellah wanted to remark, but she couldn’t muster the energy to do so. Was it the excessive amount of sugar or the high levels of caffeine that caused this reaction? It’s interesting to note that she repeated the same actions the previous year, yet she didn’t experience any adverse side effects. She had gone a week with no repercussions after indulging in her Halloween candy binge. 

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as Kellah recalled the countless chess matches she had witnessed Riddle play, the clacking of pieces on the board becoming a familiar soundtrack. Was that it? She pushed it down the further recesses of her mind.

Hermione directed her attention towards Kellah, studying her with a discerning gaze. “Are you wearing that? It’s not very becoming of you.”

“Isn’t that the same thing you wore yesterday?” Padma remarked, noticing the wrinkles in the shirt from being worn before.

“Well, we didn’t bring luggage,” Kellah yelled.

“Professor Sinistra had it sent from Hogwarts,” said Padma.

Kellah collapsed onto the bed, the weight of yesterday finally catching up to her. “Just pick something, Hermione.”

Hermione pointed at herself. “Me.”

As Hermione whispered to Padma, Kellah gently placed a pillow over her head. She longed to drift back into the blissful embrace of sleep that was her hope. Kellah felt crankier than Lavender in the morning, her patience wearing thin with each passing minute. 

Together, they hauled her to the desk in the room and unceremoniously plunked her down, the chair creaking under her weight. Sitting before the mirror, she couldn’t help but notice how tired and unkempt she looked. 

“Alright, I reckon this situation demands a ‘don’t make me say it,’” Hermione remarked.

“Say it,” said Kellah. “I could do with a bit of cheering up.”

Hermione said, not sounding thrilled, “A makeover.”

Kellah couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement inside.

“I don’t know how to do your hair, so here’s two snap clips and loads of Alma oil,” Padma said as she secured the snap clips on each side of her head, taming her braids and creating a clear part down the middle. Two extra snap clips were necessary for her to achieve the desired hold for her hair and lots of hair gel. “Now, do you want to look like a wizard or a Muggle?”

“I want to look like me,” said Kellah.

“I thought you would like this,” said Hermione.

It was hard to be enthusiastic after yesterday. And she promised herself she wouldn't think about it again.“I don't know. Surprise me.” 

After much arguing over the clothing, they finally settled on a compromise. Kellah’s choice of attire for the occasion was a black velvet dress, its luxurious texture matching the aura of wizardry she wanted to embody. As she walked, her school cloak swayed gently, brushing against her legs. 

Kellah was accustomed to being a force to be reckoned with. However, today, she questioned if she wanted to maintain that persona. Understanding that her friends were attempting to brighten her mood, she joined them for breakfast. 

Taking a seat, she felt the weight of Professor Sinistra’s disapproving stare. “You look absolutely charming today. I’m glad you managed to get some sleep, them not so much,” she gestured to the boys. 

Ron’s spoon clattered to the floor as he nodded off, his face landing with a soft thud in his porridge. 

“Thank you, Professor.” Kellah looked around the table, and everyone was there but one. “Where’s Malfoy?”

“Eating in his room alone. He doesn’t fancy the food here,” said Professor Sinistra.

“Well, no one fancies Malfoy’s company,” said Harry.

“Harry,” scolded Professor Sinistra, “that is not nice. Apologize.”

“I apologize for being honest,” Harry murmured regretfully as he trudged back upstairs to his room. His food disappeared when he did.

Ron couldn’t contain his amusement and let out a chuckle, splattering porridge onto his chin. Professor Sinistra’s glare intensified, clearly unamused by his antics. Scabbers then peeked out and seemed to wave at her but eating some of Ron's porridge off his chin.

Following their morning meal, the group went down to Flourish and Blotts. Today, the number of people in attendance was higher than the previous day. 

The moment they set foot inside the shop, a spectacle of flashing lights and the alarming sight of someone aggressively seizing Ron greeted their eyes. Alongside that, someone else attempted to grab Harry, but Professor Sinistra promptly stepped in and shooed them away. Taking up the central space in the shop, there was a giant chessboard spread out on the floor. Ron stood beside Celine Castillon, dwarfed by her towering presence, as they posed for pictures. He had to tilt his head slightly to meet her gaze as she stood half a head taller than him.

The setup included not only the main stage but a commentator’s table. “Live from the renowned Flourish and Blotts bookstore. I am Ludo Bagman, the distinguished head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, ready to present the exciting festivities of the 34th Annual Walter Aragon Wizard Chess Tournament. I bet you’re wondering why I’m here,” he said, his tone laced with mystery.

“Yes, just what you need is another bet, Ludo,” the other commentator chimed in teasingly. “Only joking,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I’m Cyrus Einklehorn. And good lord, that’s Harry Potter. Has he come here to support his school?”

Harry nervously sought refuge in a secluded corner as many wizards suddenly materialized in the shop. 

“I must say,” Cyrus exclaimed, “the Beauxbatons students tower over the Hogwarts students like giants.”

Ludo clutched his mic. “No, that’s just their Headmistress, Madam Maxine. Dumbledore doesn’t seem to be here; he’s too busy fighting off the Ministry about — “Cyrus interrupted, saying, “Nothing important, according to the people who write my checks.”

Ludo announced, “Now my money’s on the underdog Ron Weasley against the reigning world champion Celine Castillon,” as the crowd erupted in excitement.

“When is your money not?” Cyrus teased. “Celine Castillon currently holds a ranking of 2300 making her a National Master while Ron Weasley has no ranking; he needs thirty matches to have that honor.”

After that, Kellah’s ears became deaf to the rest of the conversation. Amidst the mingling of Beauxbaton and Hogwarts students, everyone fixed their eyes on Harry, eager to glimpse the famous wizard. Nervously, he stood there, desperately searching for an escape route. Celine Castillon was an afterthought. One thing Kellah was learning about the wizarding world: you may be famous, but you’re not Harry Potter famous. Lockhart had learned that the hard way.

At that moment, Kellah locked eyes with Draco. She knew her whole day was ruined now—a bolt of energy coursed through their veins, connecting them instantly.

“So, I heard you played spin the bottle last night,” Draco said, “and apparently, you kissed Dean.”

“It was just a game,” she said casually, shrugging his shoulders.

Draco glanced at their fancy attire and remarked, “I guess that’s what you’re all dressed up for.”

Just then, a blonde man emerged behind Draco, and Kellah instantly knew it was his father. “Ah yes,” he said, tapping his cane, “I remember you still antagonizing my child.” 

“My parents told me not to talk to strangers,” she then walked away. Lucius Malfoy clenched his cane, and his face twisted into a mask of rage. 

Just as the tension in the room peaked, the chess match was about to begin. While being dragged away by the commentator Cyrus, Ludo Bagman whispered a few words to Ron.

From the moment the match began, both sides were evenly matched, making for an intense competition. Their opposing styles created a perfect balance, each move countering the other flawlessly. As she observed the game, it was clear neither side had the upper hand. It seemed like either the ticking of the clock or a fortunate twist of fate would ultimately influence the final decision. 

Ron’s restless pacing around the board stopped as he made a decisive move, pinning down her queen and leaving her vulnerable. The game hung in the balance as Celine weighed her options: would she seize Ron’s pawn, setting the stage for a daring Queen’s Gambit, or escape the blockade unscathed?

“If he does any more pacing he’s going to build a moat,” Cryrus announced.

Ludo spoke close to his mic. “Maybe it will help him build a defense against Celine.”

The chess match continued and Celine carefully assessed her options, weighing the potential risks and rewards. Taking Ron's pawn would undoubtedly give her a momentary advantage.

As Kellah watched she knew it came with a significant risk. If Celine was as good a player as people thought she would see through it. Losing a queen would be a devastating blow to Celine’s position on the chessboard.

Averting her gaze from Ron's confident smirk, Celine took a different approach. She refused to succumb to his trap and sought a way to break free from the blockade. With a deep breath, he focused on regaining control of the game.

Ludo sighed. “It looks like she has the upper hand.”

“Was there any doubt,” Cyrus teased. “The odds are fifty to one.”

Calculating her moves, Celine skillfully maneuvered her pieces, creating a path to liberation. She sacrificed a minor piece, strategically weakening Ron's defenses and opening avenues for her remaining forces. The tension in the air was palpable as the game took an unexpected turn.

Celine's expression shifted from arrogance to concern, realizing that Ron was not succumbing to her ploy. She studied the board intently, searching for a countermove to regain the upper hand. But Ron's determination and calculated play left her scrambling for a solution.

“Oh what is this has the Matagot of Wizard Chess been backed into a corner,” Cryus smirked.

“I hope so,” said Ludo Bagman. “I mean I guess Ron Weasley has bigger claws.”

“Meow,”they announced together.

As the game progressed, Ron's strategic maneuvering paid off. He regained control of the board, seizing the opportunity to launch her offensive. Celine's initial bold move had backfired, and she found herself on the defensive, desperately trying to salvage her position.

With each move, Ron's confidence grew, fueling his ambition to claim victory. He anticipated Celine's counterattacks, skillfully parrying his every move. The tension in the room intensified, and both players were locked in a battle of wits and strategy.

“She’s got the face of an angel and a mind built for battle,” Cryus shouted.

“Celine may be an angel but Weasley is our King,”Ludo remarked.

In the end, Ron's courage and strategic thinking paid off. Celine’s bold move ultimately led to her downfall, and Ron emerged triumphant, his queen standing tall as a testament to her calculated risk-taking.

The game had been a thrilling display of skill and determination, a testament to the unpredictable nature of chess. As Celine contemplated her defeat, she couldn't help but admire Ron's ability to break free from the blockade and turn the tables on her.

In the world of chess, every move carried consequences, and it is the ability to make crucial decisions in the face of adversity that separated the champions from the amateurs. Ron's boldness and strategic thinking had proven him to be a force to be reckoned with on the chessboard.

Celine freed herself, but it turned out to be a wrong move. Suddenly, two queens were on the board, and before long, she tipped over her king and resigned.

Cyrus rose from his seat in excitement. “Breaking all expectations, Ron Weasley has emerged victorious in a championship that people will forever remember for its unprecedented nature.”

Kellah didn't like chess much. She only joined to be with her friends but this moment made it worthwhile.

Ludo Bagman jumped up, causing the chair to scrape against the floor. “Yes, another win for the underdog.” 

While Ron and Celine shook hands, the cameras went off, resulting in a series of bright flashes. “I ‘aven’t lost a match since Peregrine won ze championship.”

Hermione embraced him tightly, wrapping her arms around his body. “Oh, Ronald.”

A flush of embarrassment spread across Ron’s cheeks. “It was nothing.”

 They handed Ron the trophy, which was as big as his torso, and a generous amount of 100 galleons. With great pride, he held it up high above his head. Celine proudly displayed her smaller trophy, which gleamed with 75 galleons. Kellah boasted 50 galleons, while Hermione stood beside her with a modest 25. It was better than nothing. Kellah calculated she had around 250 quid, give or take a few pounds. 

They took a few more pictures with the Hogwarts students, capturing their smiling faces and magical robes. Malfoy walked a step behind Kellah, his fingers lightly skimming across the curve of her shoulder blades. She shuttered, her gaze meeting his, and Malfoy responded with a sly wink before focusing his attention straight ahead. In the corner, Harry tried to blend into the background, not wanting to steal the spotlight.

Exiting the building, a sea of waving fans greeted them. Ron’s ears turned such a vibrant shade of red that it seemed like a brand-new color had been created. 

“Now is the time for us to depart,” Professor Sinistra stated.

“WAIT,” Ron demanded. “I need a new wand, and I’m getting it with this prize money before my parents take it.”

“You have five minutes. Our schedule is tight,” Professor Sinistra stated firmly, reminding everyone of the importance of staying on track. 

Kellah wanted to go shopping too but since her parents refused to give her a decent salary for school it was best to save every last penny.

Outside, they all anxiously waited as Ron tried on various wands, hoping to find the perfect match.

 Kellah pulled Harry aside, and Malfoy strained his ears to catch a snippet of their conversation. “Harry, you should have gotten him a wand at the start of the school year, especially after he saved you from the Dursleys.”

“Ron wouldn’t have let me. You know how he is,” said Harry.

Reflecting on the situation, Kellah commented. “It could have been a Christmas present.”

Harry nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting understanding. “It’s all a bit odd to me. I’m sorry. It’s new to me to have friends who exchange gifts.”

“Hey, Christmas is tomorrow, and I better get something. I already have my presents for everyone.”

When their conversation ended, Ron emerged, brandishing his wand. Harry and Ron pounded each other’s fists, their knuckles colliding with a satisfying thud. “What you get?” Harry asked.

“Willow unicorn hair fourteen inches. He gave me a sad look when he gave it to me. I can’t imagine why,” Ron chuckled.

Kellah had been researching wand wood, and she instantly realized why. While willow wood was not a commonly seen material, it was often given to individuals who harbored certain insecurities; however, she had no plans to disclose this detail to Ron. “Ollivander’s just getting up there in age, is all.”

“Five minutes is up,” Professor Sinistra announced, thrusting a portkey into their hands, signaling it was time to leave. They were pulled and stretched, their bodies contorting as they were transported back to Dumbledore’s office. 

“I see you have returned. How did it go?” Dumbledore asked.

As everyone started talking all at once, Ron calmly raised his trophy and brand-new wand. Dumbledore raised his hand, instantly hushing the room. “Rather well, I take it. For winning the school this trophy, what would you all like to be rewarded?”

“No exams,” said Ron.

“A party,” said Kellah.

“Something big and expensive,” said Malfoy.

“Something artistic,” said Dean.

“A new library,” said Hermione.

“For my opinion to be heard for once,” Padma said, crossing her arms.

Dumbledore nodded, his long white beard swaying with the movement. “Ten points for each of you and a party amongst yourself. We could use some festivities.” With a simple gesture of his hand, the room underwent a delicious transformation as a chocolate fountain materialized and a pool of candy appeared.

“A party with Malfoy. This is punishment,” said Harry. 

Dumbledore shot Harry a stern glance, causing him to lower his head immediately. Harry was rarely attentive, but this was the first time Kellah had witnessed an adult who could make him listen. That didn’t stop him from leaving, though. 

“You have thirty minutes to enjoy yourself,” Dumbledore said.

“I’d rather not,” said Hermione.

With a sly grin, Malfoy sauntered up to Dumbledore, the sound of his expensive shoes clicking against the marble floor. “Professor, it seems rather unfair to award ten points per person when I am the only Slytherin. There are four Gryffindors, and Harry didn’t take part,” he said.

“Right, you are. But you also did not participate in the tournament, Mr. Malfoy. Is that correct?”

A deep frown etched onto Malfoy’s face, his lips turning downward in a displeased expression. “Yes, never mind, Professor.”

Ron and Kellah eagerly stuffed their pockets with an assortment of mouthwatering treats. Ron left quickly, but Kellah stayed for a bit; she didn’t want to leave Padma alone. As the short-lived party came to a close, Dumbledore wasted no time in clearing the space and ushering everyone out in a hurry. Leaving his office, Dean’s hands grasped Kellah's arm, provoking Draco to scowl and increase his walking speed. 

Dean reassured her, “We can walk together since we are in the same house,” as they set off on their joint journey.

“Fine,” she said, her gaze lingering on Malfoy’s retreating figure. “Are you frightened by the Chamber of Secrets? How do your parents feel about it?”

“We’re back, and I’m a bit spooked. I won’t tell my parents. They don’t have to find out. This is wizard stuff.”

Crossing the room of trophies, she posed the question, “Why don’t you tell them?” Goosebumps formed on her skin when she stumbled upon a trophy bearing the name Tom Riddle.

“They wouldn’t let me come to school, but the child endangerment is part of this place’s charm. I mean, we’re witches and wizards. There are bound to be magical accidents,” said Dean.

“I think I feel better about losing now. You always cheer me up,” she said, giving him a friendly nudge.

“You lost but the team won. Anyways this will make you feel even better.” Just as Dean leaned in for a kiss, his hand playfully found its way to her stomach, causing a delightful tickling sensation. The sheer amusement of the situation caused her to nearly lose her balance as he caught her from behind, his lips gently grazing her neck. Although it was a slight increase, he ended up being taller than her. Kellah hadn’t noticed that before. 

“I’m loads better now,” she said, pulling away from him.

The common room was just a short distance away from where they were. The Fat Lady was talking to her friend and stopped as they approached.

“Absens haeres non erit,” said Dean. 

As the porthole opened, Dean extended his hand with a warm smile. Kellah took his outstretched hand, feeling the warmth of his palm as he helped her over the ledge. 

Stepping inside, they immediately noticed that the room had undergone a magical transformation into a full-blown party. Despite the small number of people, the air was electric with excitement, the sounds of chatter and music blending together. The unmistakable scent of butterbeer, generously provided by the Weasley Twins, hung in the air. Fred offered her a glass and said, “Bottoms up,” encouraging her to take a sip. 

As Kellah drank it, the beverage unexpectedly sprayed out of her nose, causing her to cough and gasp for air.

“Ace,” said George, giving Fred a congratulatory fist pound.

Kellah planned to have a longer conversation with Dean, but her attention was diverted when she noticed Harry sitting alone in a corner. Kellah sat beside him and asked, “Harry, are you alright?”

Harry face twisted it looked like he wouldn't talk to her but he did.“This is the first time I didn’t want to return to Hogwarts, but my friends make it easier.”

As she leaned on him, Kellah could feel Harry’s internal strength. The way he spoke made her feel uneasy and on edge. As she handed him a butterbeer, he eagerly accepted it, and the carbonation caused the drink to bubble out of his mouth. As they laughed together, she felt a warmth spread through her, knowing she had lifted his spirits. 

As the sun rose, Kellah woke up early and carefully planned her mission to collect everyone’s Christmas presents without being caught. While wearing a pair of dungarees, she made her way to the training ground, effortlessly hauling the brooms she made with a simple locomotor spell she had learned. Suddenly, she spotted Malfoy. 

Malfoy eyed her. “I like a girl who works with her hands.”

“Do you really,” Kellah said, blushing a little.

“Of course not.” He then touched her hair and gently kissed her lips. “Since it’s you, I’ll allow it.”

He gently tucked a braid behind her ear, hidden beneath her bandana, only for it to slip out moments later. “Sorry, I need to do my hair. It’s old.”

A sudden realization hit Malfoy, causing him to blink rapidly as he tried to comprehend the situation. As he waved her fallen hair in the air, he asked, “Are you alright? Your hair did fall out.” Kellah felt mortified. She seized it, hiding it from view behind her back.

“I’m good, just leave me be,” she said.

Malfoy shook his head, his silver-blond hair swaying with the motion. “I need to train, anyway.” He left her there and entered the training grounds. 

The loose braid caught Kellah’s attention, and upon closer inspection, she discovered blood at the root. 

Chapter Text

As Kellah woke up on Christmas morning, she felt the weight of more loose braids on her pillow. With every pass of her fingers through her scalp, Kellah felt the sensation of her braids slipping from her grasp. She grabbed a hat and pressed on, the remaining braids tugging at its brim as she continued. If she pretended it didn’t exist, there wouldn’t be any problem. By resisting the urge to touch her hair, she could stop it from shedding anymore. She was told your hair was your beauty, and she intended to keep it that way.

So distracted by her hair, she hadn't noticed that while she peacefully slept, the room underwent a complete makeover, turning into a Christmas wonderland. Garlands and decorations were artfully arranged in every nook and cranny, bringing the holiday spirit to life. 

The common room was encumbered with the delightful scent of pine from the charming Christmas tree positioned near the crackling fireplace. Kellah was surprised it hadn't caught on fire. It must have been enchanted.

Sitting by the warm fire in Gryffindor’s common room, Kellah joined the bustling Weasley family and her friends, immersed in the festive atmosphere of gift-giving. 

The Dursleys sent Harry a note, along with a toothpick, which they deemed appropriate to offer as a gift.

Harry received a book titled Flying with the Cannons from Ron, a treasure trove of intriguing facts about Ron’s favorite Quidditch team. It was Ron’s prized possession, and he was giving it away to Harry. Ron had a big heart behind all that bravado.

Hermione presented Harry with a lavish eagle-feather quill. Opening the last present, Harry’s eyes widened in delight as he discovered a beautifully crafted, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a mouthwatering plum cake. 

The makeup kit Kellah got from Ron wasn’t what she expected. It was a kid’s set, complete with fake glitter makeup. From the looks of it, Ginny had once claimed ownership of it. Against her better judgment, Kellah couldn’t help but smile and accept it. 

Harry’s gift to Hermione was a book titled The ABCs and 123s of Magic. At the same time, Ron surprised her with color-changing ink. Harry gifted Kellah a quill that emitted a subtle, enchanting sparkle of glitter with every stroke. Personally, she wanted a peacock feather like Lockhart, but she wouldn't dare have one while he was in possession of one. 

Ron received yet another R sweater in maroon but this time there was a magazine article attached to it.

“Looks it's me and I'm on the bloody front page,” Ron shouted.

The twins plugged their ears. “Great,”they said together.” Fred unplugged his ears. “He won't shut up about this for a month.” George gave Fred a wet willy. “When everyone is back from holiday it’ll be non-stop.”

“I for one am proud.” said Percy.

Ginny just bore into Harry more with her big eyes.

Hagrid gifted a fudge treacle to each of them, but to their disappointment, it had hardened into a solid mass, forcing them to improvise by using sticks and melting it over the fire. The softness of it had reached such a degree that it easily dissolved in their mouths.

While gazing intensely at Harry, Ginny softly disclosed, “Mum and Dad are visiting Bill in Egypt.” 

“Is Bill the hot oldest one, or is that Charlie?” asked Kellah. 

Ginny struggled to communicate, gawking at Harry, but all that emerged from her mouth was a tiny squeak.

“That’s absolutely revolting talking about my brothers like that,” said Ron.

“What’s absolutely revolting are your socks, Ron Weasley,” remarked Fred.

With a mischievous grin, George tossed his sock at Ron, exclaiming, “They’re getting a bit crusty.” 

An amusing spectacle unfolded as they playfully chased one another around the common room, eventually ending when Percy stepped in. “I have no problem handing out detentions and deducting points. This is still school.”

“You should’ve gone to Egypt,” Fred said.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have been missed,” said George. “Or better yet, petrified.”

Trying to maintain his composure, Percy stormed off with determined strides. “I'm a Prefect. The monster wouldn't dare do anything to me, and five points from Gryffindor.” After that, Percy forcefully shut the painting, covering the porthole.

Locking eyes with George, Fred examined him intently. “Now that he’s gone, it’s time to have some real fun.”

With a deck of cards in hand, they enthusiastically engaged in a game of Exploding Snaps, followed by a creative endeavor to build a majestic castle using the same cards. Unfortunately, their grand creation ended in disaster as the entire structure detonated, leaving behind a massive mess.

 While the rest of the Weasley family cleaned the mess, Kellah motioned for Ron, Harry, and Hermione to follow her, leading them away from prying eyes. “Hey mates, I have a present for you. You just gotta share it, and it’s on the training grounds.” 

“I don’t need a present,” said Harry.

“Can we go to the training grounds safely?” asked Hermione.

“It’s Christmas, and I would love something besides a jumper in one of my least favorite colors,” said Ron.

“It looks fine, Ronald,” said Hermione.

“You want the present or not?” Kellah yelled.

Showing their unanimous approval, they nodded in unison and set off on the trip down to the training grounds. 

The halls came alive with the sound of ghostly carols as Kellah walked through, their voices possessing an enchanting and haunting beauty that captivated my senses. The portraits, which had been away for quite some time, returned just in time to join in the festivities of Christmas and celebrate with their beloved friends. 

Once outside, each step became more difficult as they trudged through the deep snow, but they pressed on nonetheless. Walking along the lengthy cobblestone path that led to the training grounds, she could feel the slight unevenness beneath her feet. 

Upon entering the training ground storage room, Kellah’s eyes immediately landed on the two brooms, beckoning her to choose one. The one that Ginny had ridden became worn out over time. So she chose the latter. 

The broom was placed before them by Kellah, its wooden handle smooth from countless hours of polishing. “I whipped up a broom for everyone to use.”

”Oh, that’s, um, splendid, something we all can use,” said Hermione.

“Alright, who wants a shot?” Kellah inquired.

Until Harry stepped up, there was complete silence. “I’ll give it a go safer that way.”

“If he pulls through, I’m next in the queue,” Ron said. 

“I’ll watch you lot have fun,” said Hermione.

With finesse, Harry executed loop de loos and sudden stops on the broom, showcasing his mastery of flying. He executed a daring plunge, emerging from the depths with impressive speed. Harry made a series of sharp turns before stopping by Kellah and then got off the broom.

“I dig the bike handlebars for dives, and it’s only a bit slower than my broom,” Harry said. “You were brilliant.”

“I’m trying to get the basics,” said Kellah.

With determined steps, Ron made his way towards the broom, ready to use it. “Let me have a go,” Ron exclaimed, jumping on so quickly that they couldn’t even discuss it. Though not quite matching Harry’s flying prowess, he still surpassed Hermione’s abilities by a wide margin. As Ron rode, the broom accidentally grazed a treetop, causing a brief, unexpected thud and a rustle of leaves, but he quickly recovered and continued smoothly.

Ron dismounted clumsily, lacking the smoothness of Harry. 

“This is dangerous,” Hermione said.

“Hermione,” Kellah sighed, “we’re always following you to the library. You have to do Quidditch things with us.”

“She’s got a point, Hermione, and it’s alright. It’s loads faster than my old comet. Mind if I take it?” Ron asked. 

Kellah smiled, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Once the prototypes are done, Ron, you can have this one.”

With each leap, Ron’s excitement grew, causing him to jump up and down with pure joy. “A new wand, new broom, and a championship win. Best Christmas ever!”

“Good for you, Ronald, but I prefer to stay on the ground. I think I might be a portkey or Apparate type of girl,” said Hermione.

“All of the above,” Kellah said, “but Apparition is particularly wicked.”

“Might just go for portkeys,” Ron suggested. “Or driving another car.” He made a steering wheel hand motion.

“No flying cars anymore, and I’m clueless about this Apparition thing,” Harry said.

“Apparition is sort of like teleporting, but you gotta be licensed, and it’s only for short distances. There’s also flying carpets. I reckon Dad might have one.”

“We gotta ride one,” Kellah said.

“No way, not after the flying car,” Harry said.

“It will just be me and Ron then,” Kellah said, her grip on his arm tightening.

A steely look crossed Hermione’s face as she glared intently. “Well, trying couldn’t hurt,” she said, her grip on Ron’s other arm tightening as she spoke.

“Guess I don’t have a say in the matter,” said Harry.

“Afraid not, mate,” Ron said, pulling Hermione and Kellah closer as his arms tightened around them.

They then put their hands together, their palms touching gently. “Alright, one carpet ride, but Ron can’t drive,” Harry said.

“That’s my dad’s carpet,” Ron said in the group pile.

“Mate, remember the last time you drove, right? I almost fell out, and you crashed the car,” said Harry.

“I’ll fly. You can’t stop me,” said Ron.

While Ron grumbled to himself, the rest of them raised their hands and agreed.

With excitement building, they descended the stairs for the long-awaited Christmas dinner. Mistletoe hung from the branches, creating a whimsical atmosphere. Kellah had half a mind to get a boy under one and kiss him for good fun. With so many trees, Kellah thought the school was trying to compensate for its recent petrifying effect on people. Twelve frosted Christmas trees stood proudly, their branches adorned with ornaments and twinkling lights. They weren't light. They were fairies on the Christmas trees that cast a warm, magical glow. 

Hagrid was in high spirits, thanks to the excessive consumption of eggnogs mixed with liquor. Kellah and Hagrid’s voices rang above the others as they belted out the melodies. At one point, he effortlessly lifted her onto his shoulder, making her feel weightless. The height allowed her to take in every detail of the room, from the intricate patterns on the ceiling to the most miniature objects on the shelves. It was quite remarkable how diminutive everyone seemed to be from that perspective. It was the perfect view of the fireplace. One of the highlights of the great hall during the Christmas season was the presence of a warm and inviting fireplace.

Dumbledore had to instruct Hagrid to place her back on the ground gently. Right before she was about to, she noticed Malfoy teasing Ron about his jumper, prompting her to stomp on Malfoy’s fresh pair of trainers deliberately. Her mischievousness left a nice scuff on the white shoes. 

After the adults had consumed copious amounts of alcohol, they stumbled out of the hall, leaving behind a trail of laughter and slurred words. Not Snape; he was sober, obviously. Meanwhile, Fred and George found amusement in tormenting Percy with a modified Prefect badge.

***

Later that night, Hermione explained the plan in detail, emphasizing the importance of obtaining hair from Crabbe and Goyle. As a clever touch, she handed them cupcakes laced with Sleeping Draught. The idea's brilliance didn’t escape Kellah’s notice, even though she had thought of it first. 

Leaving the boys to their own devices, they hurried off to set up the potions, catching a whiff of the mysterious ingredients as they went. Four cups were neatly lined up by Kellah, ready for everyone to enjoy. Hermione retrieved the Slytherin robes from their storage place and carefully separated them. 

Right at that precise moment, the boys entered. “Kellah, Hermione.”

When they caught sight of the potions bubbling in their cups, they instinctively took a step back in visible surprise.

“Did you get it?” Hermione asked.

 In his outstretched hand, Harry held a strand of thick, dark hair that he claimed belonged to Goyle. “They went right up to floating cupcakes. You can't get any thicker than those two.”

“Good. And I nicked these robes out of the laundry,” Hermione said, pointing to the windowsill.“You’ll need bigger sizes once you’re Crabbe and Goyle. It’s ready.”

“It’s been ready with the two of us at the helm,” said Kellah.

“We’re quite sure we did everything right,” said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. “Once we’ve had it, we’ll have an hour before we become ourselves again.”

“Now what?” Ron whispered.

“Add the hairs.” As Hermione’s hand trembled, she gingerly shook the hair of Millicent Bulstrode out of its bottle, letting it fall into the first glass.

The potion emitted a loud, hissing sound, resembling a kettle on the verge of boiling, and frothed vigorously. Almost instantaneously, the color changed, taking on a sickly yellow appearance.

When Kellah placed Pansy’s hair in, it immediately transformed into a deep black color, resembling thick, sticky tar. 

“Urgh—essence of Crabbe,” said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. 

Harry carefully released Goyle’s hair into the center glass, watching it float and settle among the other ingredients. The glasses hissed and started frothing, each taking on a different unsettling hue. Goyle’s turned an unpleasant khaki color resembling a booger, while Crabbe’s transformed into a murky brown shade.

“Hang on,” said Harry as the potion nearly hit their lips. “Let’s not all drink them here... We need stalls.”

“Clever move,” Ron said as he unlocked the door. “Separate ones, of course.”

“Careful not to spill a drop,” said Harry.

Kellah quietly made her way into her stall, slipping in without making a sound.

“Ready?” Harry called.

“Ready,” Ron and Hermione’s voices echoed in unison. “One—two—three—”

Just as she was about to take a sip, Kellah suddenly had a vision that this was the worst possible moment. Hermione’s face transformed into that of a cat, complete with whiskers and bright feline eyes. Rushing to Hermione’s stall, Kellah’s potion slipped from her hand and shattered on the ground. She forcefully pounded on the door, creating a loud noise.

“I’m changing,” yelled Hermione.

Kellah returned to her bathroom stall and heard the faint sound of water running in the sink. 

“Are you both alright?” Goyle’s low rasp of a voice was heard. It was Harry, but odd to listen to him.

“Yeah,” squeaked Crabbe in a high-pitched voice. The desire to leave consumed Kellah, but her commitment to Hermione held her captive.

“C’mon, we have to go,” Harry said in Goyle’s deep, gruff voice, pounding on Hermione’s door.

Ron banged loudly on Kellah’s door, causing it to rattle in its frame. “C’mon out, you two. I know how long women like to take getting ready.”

“I — I don’t think I’m going to come after all. You go on without me.”

“What about you, Kellah? You gonna come out?” Ron asked.

“I’m staying put as well,” Kellah said.

“No—really—I don’t think I’ll come. You two hurry. You’re wasting time —” said Hermione.

“Hermione, are you alright?” said Harry through the door.

“Fine—I’m fine — go on—.”

“We’ll see you back here, alright?” Harry said.

Peeking through her stall door, Kellah observed Harry and Ron as they gingerly opened the bathroom door, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger, and then quietly departed.

Determined to see her friend, Kellah stood outside Hermoine’s bathroom stall once again. “Come out. The boys are gone.”

“No thanks,” said Hermione. “—Well, perhaps only for a bit.”

When she emerged, her face was unrecognizable, now concealed under a full coat of fur. In truth, she had a rather cute and lovable appearance. She had big, yellow eyes that resembled a cat's, and her ears and tail were fluffy, constantly moving back and forth wildly. 

“I don’t know what went wrong.”

With a sense of panic, Hermione sprinted towards the bathroom mirror and was horrified by what she saw, causing her to scream in fright. 

“The potion isn’t meant for animal transformation. You got cat hair instead of Millicent’s,” Kellah explained.

Hermione’s tail came to a sudden halt, and it instantly fluffed out, revealing her alertness. “That makes sense. I was a bit overwhelmed. I didn’t get the hair properly.”

With their heads touching, they settled down to rest when Myrtle barged in, moaning loudly, then pointed and laughed at them. In a panic, Hermione quickly retreated into the stall, finding solace in the darkness and seclusion. 

“Keep teasing her, and you’ll wish you hadn’t become a ghost.”

“Try it, and I’ll haunt you just like I did Olive Hornby,” Myrtle laughed some more.

“Then I’ll ruin the places you fancy, this lavatory, the lake, the Prefect Bathroom. I know you peek at boys in there.”

“You—you—you’re so MEAN,” Myrtle screamed.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she slid down the pipes, her moans of anguish reverberating all the way down, possibly to the lake below. Hermione emerged with tears streaming down her wet whiskers as Kellah wiped her tears away, leaving streaks on her fur.

“That wasn’t very nice,” said Hermione.

“Well, Myrtle wasn’t nice to you now, was she?”

They spent a significant amount of time together, a whole hour, to console Hermione, with the optimistic aspiration that she would eventually change back.

The wet floor amplified the sound of the boy’s shoes, causing them to squeak as they walked. In a hurry, Hermione quickly made her way to the stall, but it was too late. Despite passing time, Hermione remained unchanged. “Hermione, come out, we’ve oh—.”

“It was just a bit of cat hair!” she howled. “M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn’t supposed to be used for animal transformations!” 

Kellah’s arms wrapped around Hermione in a warm embrace, and she soothingly caressed her back while they talked.

“Uh-oh,” said Ron.

“No worries, Hermione,” Harry said in a rush. "We’ll bring you to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey won't say a word. She never does…"

It was the longest walk to the hospital wing ever. Was Hermione badly transfigured or drunk because she wasn't keeping herself upright and kept leaning on Ron? Kellah refused to carry Hermione any longer and let the boys do it.

They brought her to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey emerged, still in her dressing gown. Acting with haste, Madam Pomfrey wasted no time taking Hermione under her wing and efficiently ushered them away from the area. 

After a sigh of relief, Ron yelled!“What’s your excuse for not lending a hand with Malfoy?” Ron questioned.

“Because of Hermione, obviously,” said Kellah. 

He was more worked up than usual was it because of Hermione?

Chapter Text

In her dream, Kellah could feel the soft fabric of a negligee brushing against her body as Tom Riddle skillfully tied a ribbon around her throat from behind. The moment his teeth pierced Kellah’s neck, the scent of blood permeated the air, mingling with the sight of the fallen red ribbon.

Upon waking up, Kellah headed to her vanity mirror, only to be greeted by the unsettling sight of bite marks on her neck from a human. Moving quickly, Kellah tied Draco’s handkerchief around her neck, its faint scent of cologne wafting to her nose.

As Kellah started her day, she was dismayed that more braids were coming loose and falling out. In the absence of her roommates, she began working on a potion that would enhance her appearance.

 The solution to her problem was as simple as using a hair potion and a product to clear up her skin. Alongside the possibility of consulting Madam Pomfrey, Kellah wanted to keep the matter confidential. Therefore, she chose not to confide in anyone. 

As she flipped open her diary, she was surprised to find it contained a specific message.

In a fit of anger, she forcefully shut it with a loud bang and angrily launched it, causing it to collide with the wall.

Removing her braids, Kellah discovered it wasn’t as awful as she had imagined. The visible signs on her scalp strongly suggested that she had experienced a detrimental chemical burn due to a perm treatment. She had never had a perm in her life.

 She looked like a Chucky Doll. She had kept her hair in braids for an extended time, as they dropped to the floor looking slightly frayed. Yeah, that had to be it. Her hair was now a massive, untamed afro that dominated her entire head. It was dry and brittle. 

Kellah began applying Lavender Brown’s hair potion to her head, feeling the silky texture slide through her fingers. In all honesty, there were a few instances where her fingers became entangled in her afro, and she had to gently pull apart some strands, causing a minor amount of hair to be torn. 

To replicate and replace the bottles she used, Kellah would take a moment to test the contents, ensuring she captured the exact essence of it. From Parvati, she took a face mask and applied it to her skin. As she peeled off the charcoal mask, she felt a satisfying tug and could see the impurities being removed from her pores. Carefully, she applied an eye mask under her bags and placed an eye pack over her closed eyes. Then she put on another face mask, this one was clay. Yes, there are really this many types of face masks. She then waved her wand to set a timer, allowing herself to relax. Everything was set for twenty minutes.

The time seemed to pass quickly as she exited her dormitory, running past the Weasley boys. As if rehearsed, one of the Weasley twins shouted at the exact moment as the other, their voices blending in a powerful and spirited display. “It’s a beast.”

Kellah took the time to wash her hair thoroughly and make sure it was clean. It looked thicker and longer, and all the patches were gone. It seems like that hair mask had some magical powers. Following that, she removed the face mask. Initially, her skin had a noticeable glow, but she enhanced it by applying an oil mask. Contemplating whether to run upstairs, she ultimately remained holed up in the bathroom.

There was an attempt made by someone to enter the bathroom, but abruptly, the door was slammed shut by Kellah. “It’s me. Ginny, Ron, and Harry were worried about you.”

“It’s just that time of the month. I need a spa day to unwind. Going to be like this all through the break to New Year's.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Next time when I’m feeling better, funny enough, a heating pad would be great.”

“Sure thing,” Ginny said. 

As Kellah perceived the faint sound of her steps receding, she promptly took the precautionary measure of locking the door. Subsequently, she repeated the action of washing her face. A lovely, clean glow was gradually emanating from it. By incorporating serums into her skincare regimen, she allowed herself a five-minute break to fan her face and let the products sink in. Afterward, she pampered herself by applying a delightful face mask that resembled a cute cat. When she placed the mask on her face, it unexpectedly winked at her while emitting soft purring sounds. 

The mirror of the bathroom twinkled. “Girl, you’re glowing. You look better than the beat-down mess you were when you walked in.”

“Thanks, and you don’t have any cracks...yet,” said Kellah.

“Oh well, I’ll just close my mouth then, shall I?” asked the mirror.

With an exasperated eye-roll, Kellah gracefully flicked her wand, instantly transforming her hair into a perfect masterpiece. She transformed her coils into sleek, straight hair. This was a departure from her usual hairstyle - she had never worn her hair like this before. Her hair was long, flowing down her back, yet there was an undeniable absence of something. With a wave of her hand, she summoned a crimson ribbon and elegantly fastened it in her hair. 

There was a knock at the door but not before someone shook the door and twisted the doorknob like mad.

“Oi, let me in. I have the heating pads.”Ginny’s actions grew more intense as she continued to bang on the door, insisting to be allowed entry.

When Kellah opened the door, Ginny’s jaw dropped in awe. “Oh wow, you should have a period more often. It looks good on you.” Ginny handed her the heating pad and brushed her off. 

Kellah locked the door, started blasting music, and then did her nails, taking the time to carefully sharpen them to a nice, sharp point. Next, she used her powers to summon a beautiful red nail polish in the vibrant shade of sanguine. When she glanced into the mirror, she could hardly believe her reflection, although it was undeniable that she appeared more attractive. 

Climbing the stairs towards the dormitory, she noticed that the boys, completely mesmerized by her, were left speechless in her presence. “I guess the beast turned into a beauty,” said Fred. 

While George whistled, Kellah ignored him and went to her room. She had exerted so much energy that she was completely drained. Collapsing on the bed she drifted off to sleep.

In her vivid dream, she was on a quest on the school premises, searching for something. Eventually, she arrived at Hagrid’s hut. There were chickens in the yard and one rooster. Kellah grabbed in and without hesitation, she twisted the head off. But before anything else happened, she felt a sudden urge to vomit, and to her horror, a snake slithered out of her mouth. It was big and green hissing at her.

Startled awake, Kellah opened her eyes, and a surge of fear coursed through her. Casting her gaze toward the bed, she observed its immaculate state, utterly devoid of any traces of dirt. Yet, her nails stood out in stark contrast, now painted in a richer, darker shade of red, leaving her perplexed and unsettled. 

Immediately, she checked her reflection in the mirror and was disheartened to see that her hair and skin had deteriorated.

 Her gaze fixated on the diary that lay on the floor. The idea of going to the hospital wing briefly crossed her mind, but she ultimately decided against it as she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Among all the problems, Hermione’s was the most serious one. She didn't want to disturb her, this was nothing. There was help she could get elsewhere.

Kellah picked up the diary. She felt it like a heartbeat in her hand. It missed her. She wrote:

Losing no time, she promptly started sifting through her potions kit, fully engrossed in her task. Upon thorough inspection, Kellah confirmed that she had gathered all the ingredients needed for her project except the essential fresh roses. She faced the setback of being short of one fairy wing and lacking morning dew. Getting ready in a rush, Kellah hastily dressed herself and adorned her attire with a bucket hat, cloak, and Gryffindor scarf that concealed her face. Leaving the common room, she ventured out through the porthole, hoping to not run into Percy.

“What brings you out at this hour? Go back to bed,” said Percy.

“I’m on my period, and I need to go to the hospital wing, Percy, so MOVE,” she yelled. 

Clearing the path, Percy moved out of the way, enabling her to swiftly make her way down to the hospital wing on the ground floor. At first, she was on the verge of entering, but as she turned to exit the courtyard, her attention was caught by a beautiful cluster of roses, prompting her to pluck two of them. However, she accidentally cut her finger, and it bled. It wasn’t until she compared the color of it to her nails that she realized they were an exact match. 

Once Kellah cast a healing spell and saw the cut mended, she took the time to put on her gloves before delicately placing the flowers in a bag. Using a vial, she diligently gathered the refreshing morning dew that had settled on the blossoms, ensuring that not a single drop was wasted.

 It was a challenge to locate fairies, but fortunately, a few were on the Christmas tree. And she complained that there were too many trees earlier. She was eating her words now. Walking towards one of the trees in a courtyard Hagrid had set up and Flitwick decorated, Kellah extended her hand and gripped a fairy. “You’re so pretty,” she said.

Following that, she stayed outside in the cold and observed as it danced around her, complimenting it. Taking a moment to retrieve her wand, she securely held it captive, ensuring its power would be at her disposal. She callously ripped the wings off the creature, reciting a healing spell to mend its wounds, then did it all over again, each time with calculated precision. Though she already possessed wings, she yearned for an insatiable amount. Eventually, the fairy stopped thrashing, its delicate wings fluttering as it settled down. Kellah then performed another healing spell, restoring the fairy’s vitality. With a final incantation of “Obliviate,” the fairy’s memory was wiped clean, and it joyfully scampered away. 

The weight of her actions lingered in Kellah’s mind, but the urgency to brew the potion pushed her to set aside her thoughts. She hurried back up to Gryffindor Tower. 

The halls were silent, and not a soul was stirring. Once she reached her dormitory, she retrieved her cauldron, its smooth surface cool to the touch. Kellah carefully read the instructions from the diary, her eyes scanning each line. 

Unlike the time-consuming process of brewing the Polyjuice Potion, this was a cinch to make - just five minutes! With a bit of practice, it should be achievable within a two-minute timeframe. The cauldron contained a potion that was bubbling and emitting a beautiful display of colors, resembling the hues of a rainbow. In a race against time, she wasted no moment in bottling it into as many vials as she could handle, fully aware that the quantity she had on hand would be enough to sustain her for a month. Recognizing her shortage of boomslang, she planned to brew more later, considering the option of stealing some from Snape, although she was hesitant due to his keen perceptiveness.

Because she didn’t want to waste her potion, she saved it and refrained from using it until school started again.

 To appear ill, she would barricaded herself in the room as if she were genuinely sick. Spending the time recreating the item she had taken from her roommates, she kept herself busy by replenishing them. 

Startled by the unexpected sound, she turned around to find Milkyway tapping on her window. Some letters was sent to her after she had been kept in her room for an entire day. The windowsill was cluttered with a stack of letters. 

She thought that was all the letters, but there was one more.

The item came in a box that was orange in color and had a brown ribbon neatly tied around it. On the box, it clearly stated, “Hermes Paris.” After she opened it, she immediately noticed that the inside packing had a clean, white appearance. Inside the package, she discovered a tiny bag that resembled a spice bag. To her surprise, this bag contained a lock and key. In Malfoy’s handwriting, she discovered a note with the words “Key to my heart” written on it. In their possession, they had a booklet, as well as a raincoat that was cleverly utilized as a bag.

Moreover, they carried a sizable white bag, inside which there was a smaller bag with the distinct label of Birkin. Upon further inspection, there was a puff skin bag, specifically a mini Birkin, with the name engraved on it. The box inside had a pillow for the bag. How much was this thing? 

With great care, she returned the item to its original place among the miscellaneous things in the box and carefully tucked it under her bed. After bending down to pick up the bag, Kellah grasped the opportunity to take a sip from the enchanting beautification potion, hoping for its promised effects. Her body temperature rose, causing her to feel hot, and her skin bubbled. The pain was intense, her skin crawling with a sensation that resembled bugs wriggling within her, but then it subsided. She looked in the mirror, her tired eyes reflecting at her, clutching the bag tightly. A devilish smile curled her lips as her eyes gleamed with a fiery red hue. 

Chapter Text

Finally, after New Year's, Kellah broke free from her self-imposed isolation and stepped out of the dorm room. When she woke again, her flawless appearance was a testament to the beautification potion she had consumed before her dorm mates arrived.

Yesterday was when all her roommates returned to the shared living space. After her early morning prayer, Layla spoke. “Is that you, Kellah?”

Watching Parvati rise, a smile tugged at her lips. Her mouth hung open in surprise, only to snap shut moments later. “Don’t you look different?”

Lavender, unusual for her, woke up early just to experience the touch of Kellah’s hair. “I prefer your hair straight. Loads better without the blonde.”

Kellah then went to the bathroom but, not just any bathroom. The bathroom no one went into Moaning Mrytle's because she knew she would be undisturbed. Kellah clicked the lock into place, shutting out the outside world. While waiting in the mirror, she noticed the tiny details - the strands of hair out of place, the faint lines forming around her eyes. And just like that, her appearance shifted once more. Her face had turned ashen, and her unkempt hair seemed to plead for attention. With a light touch, hair slipped from her grasp and landed softly on the floor. 

The hair potion she then applied worked wonders, and her hair grew back beautifully with a healthy shine. With her face mask applied, she watched as her complexion transformed, becoming more radiant with color. When the beautification potion touched her lips and dropped down her stomach, she felt an intense heat building up, as if her skin was being cooked from within. The image that reflected at her in the mirror portrayed her with teeth that had been straightened. Her eyes had taken on a light brown color, yet one could observe a slight reddish undertone. As she delicately brushed her fingers against her face, the sharp edges of her crimson stiletto nails inadvertently left tiny scratches. However, to her relief, the blemishes miraculously faded away, leaving her complexion again looking flawless. The acne that had appeared on her face was no longer visible. It was a good thing because she was looking like Eloise Midgen on a good day. And a good day for Eloise was a bad day for everyone else.

Taking it out of the concealed place in her bra. Kellah’s hand tightened around the diary before she violently flung it down, the sound of pages rustling as they hit the ground. Opening its pages and flickering, the book raised the question: 

Demonstrating her frustration, she removed a quill from her pocket and aggressively thrust it forward, piercing through the object. “Just shut up… Shut up… SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” 

Overwhelmed by terror that it was still intact without a blemish, she screamed loudly and hastily threw it into the water. She didn't care if something bad happened if she didn't have the diary. She was in a state of disarray and also felt physically and emotionally exhausted. Not only was she experiencing hair loss, but her acne was also worsening. Besides everything else, she had the potential to lose teeth in the future, considering that she had only just lost her last baby tooth a few months ago. The idea of having to endure that once more was something she simply couldn’t handle. Nothing worse than going to school and having gaps in your teeth. Having one that could be permanent was a nightmare. She almost wanted to ask if the tooth fairy was real but was too afraid to ask. It was the wizarding world there could be one.

Although Kellah could not substantiate her claim, she firmly believed the diary was the catalyst for all occurrences. The thought of the severe trouble she would find herself in, coupled with the potential hatred she would receive from others, compelled her to keep her actions concealed from everyone. Ultimately, she forcefully pushed it into a toilet bowl in Myrtle’s Bathroom, a seldom-visited area, and then flushed it. 

Now with a skip in her step, Kellah happily made her way to the hospital wing. Peeking out from the curtains, Madame Pomfrey spotted her and promptly invited her in. 

Choosing to sit next to Hermione, she scratched behind her ear lovingly. “Don't do that,” said Hermione. “And what happened to your face? It's different.”

Kellah’s response was curt and bitter. “The same thing that happened to yours,” she said, her words dripping with disappointment.

As Madam Pomfrey listened to their foolish arguments, she couldn’t resist rolling her eyes in disbelief. 

“Don’t get cross with me,” Hermione said.

“Harry and Ron couldn’t get anything out of the Malfoy or any other boys so I had to step in.”

“That’s clever but a bit shallow, don’t you think?”

“Most boys are shallow.”

Hermione turned her head, her curly hair cascading over her shoulder. “Forget it. It won’t work on Harry and Ron.”

Laughter bubbled up from deep within Kellah, filling the air with infectious glee. “Ron can be a bit shallow, so it might just work on him.”

“Did you stuff your bra as well, trying to point those cannons at all the boys, too?” said Hermione.

With a fake look of concentration, Madam Pomfrey swirled her spoon in Hermione’s potion, unaware that it had already reached the desired consistency. She handed the potion to Hermione, who eagerly took a sip. Behind a curtain, Madam Pomfrey slowly walked away, her figure disappearing into the shadows.

“My shirt was feeling a bit tight. These are from last year and I’m going to need a new size by the start of next year.”

“Ask your parents to get you new ones,” she said, her tone tinged with empathy.

“I ran away to Hogwarts just like Harry. No chance they’ll buy me new ones. Plus, guys look bad in tight clothes, but girls rock them.”

“They also make you look cheap.”

“I can afford to look cheap if it motivates the Slytherin boys to loosen their lips.” She hugged Hermione and felt a bit of her cat hair tickle her nose. “Get better and take it easy,” Kellah said.

“No, I can’t. Don’t want to fall behind in classes. Mind doing me a favor and bringing my homework and taking notes for me in class? I love Ron and Harry. They’ll bring the homework, but no way they’re doing the notes.”

“I swear, pinky swear,” Kellah said, holding out her pinky. Hermione followed suit. And with unwavering determination, they swore on it, sealing their pact. A little pinky ring appeared, glimmering like a delicate thread of light.

Rushing in, Madam Pomfrey quickly examined their pinkies with a concerned expression. “You pinky promised never to do that again. That pinky will break if you don't keep that promise.”

“What?” Kellah said.

Hermione’s fingers reached into her pocket, and she retrieved a weathered notebook, its cover adorned with scribbles and doodles. “Really? Tell me more.”

“Promises and vows like that are unbreakable in the wizarding world. Most wizarding children don't do that here. I'm tired of pinkies falling off and reattaching them.”

“But we didn’t use a wand,” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you need a wand to do magic?”

“Normally, that wouldn’t be possible, but one of you clearly used wandless magic,” Madam Pomfrey remarked.

Hermione smiled, her eyes twinkling with delight. “I think it was me, so you better keep your promise, Kellah, and write notes for me.”

Madam Pomfrey had a severe case of the grumps. “The promise was notes for class.” They both nodded yes. She screamed, “Out! Get out!”

Eager to fill her stomach and get away from Madam Pomfrey, Kellah fled her current location and promptly made her way to the Great Hall, where she planned to have a delicious breakfast. Ignoring that Gryffindor’s table was on the side, she boldly strolled down the middle of the hall. In the crowd, a handful of boys eagerly craned their necks to get a better view of her. In solitude, she sat until a gathering of boys gathered around her, sharing the space. Out of all of them, Dean was one. Standing nearby were the boys, who did not belong to the Gryffindor house. 

In a lighthearted gesture, Ernie Macmillan reached out and gave her a playful poke on the back, eliciting a giggle from her. “Hey, saved you a seat,” he kindly requested, gesturing towards the group.

Amidst the swarm of boys, Harry and Ron made their way over to her and squeezed into the available seats. “No,” she said firmly, “I’ll sit with my mates.”

“By Harry?” Ernie asked in a curious tone.

“Yes,” she said, a smile lighting up her face.

Harry and Ron were met with hostile glares from the guys who had moved away. “Congrats on making more people hate me.”

“You looked good before. No need for all this,” Ron said, waving his hand.

“It’s to get info out of some boys,” said Kellah.

“I don’t reckon they’re interested in having a chat,” Harry said.

Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini commanded attention as they sat at the head of the Slytherin table. “Look at her showing off her kind don't know their place,” Malfoy said, blushing.

“She’s kinda cute, you know, for a Muggleborn,” Nott said.

A scowl etched across Zabini’s face. “Mudbloods don't interest me. My taste is more pure.”

Subsequently, they strolled away from the scene. “It’s working,” she exclaimed with a sense of relief.

“They just insulted you. We’re going to have it out. We are,” said Ron.

Ron stood up, but Harry quickly yanked him back down. “We don't need another kerfuffle, not like last year.”

Kellah giggled to herself. “Ha kerfuffle.”

As Cedric went by, he exchanged playful banter with his friends, their energy contagious. “See that girl over there? How old do you think she is, huh?,” his friend asked.

“She’s twelve. I played chess against her, and she beat me,” Cedric said.

“No way she’s twelve. She looks at least fourteen.”

“Mate, she's the cleverest witch I have ever met.”

Throughout the entire day, she experienced the same thing repeatedly. Whenever her books fell, a helpful guy would always be there to offer a hand. Seamus had even chivalrously offered to carry her bag for her as they made their way to Snape’s class. 

In a dimly lit dungeon of the Potions class they carefully measured and mixed the ingredients for a Hair Raising Potion, the sound of bubbling and fizzing filling the room. Ron’s elbow collided with Kellah’s side, causing her to wince in pain. “How many rat tails do I add?” Ron questioned, his fingers hovering over the cauldron, ready to add the final ingredient. “I’d ask Hermione, but she’s not here.”

“Two after the porcupine quills,” Kellah said.

Ron read the instructions, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of the complex diagrams. With a hint of frustration, he remarked, “It’s blue instead of green. That’s not right.” 

“Vinegar will dissolve them if you took the barbs off first. You did remove the barbs, right,” she asked.

Ron hesitated for a moment before saying, “I think so.”

“I’ll grab more porcupine quills. Don't stir. Only add four drops of vinegar.”

Rising from her seat, Kellah headed towards the cabinet, where she knew the ingredients for the recipe were kept. From his discreet vantage point, Snape was silently observing her every move. After being pushed by Malfoy, she glanced at Snape, who immediately turned his gaze elsewhere to avoid getting involved. “Don’t bother trying to make me jealous. It won’t work.”

“Looks like it’s working fine,” she said, grabbing the ingredients. And then Kellah just casually flipped her hair right into Malfoy’s face. 

With Kellah’s guidance, Ron and Harry perfected their potions, their hands working in sync as they stirred and poured. As Snape looked over them, his intense scrutiny made them feel uneasy as if he could see right through them. “Although this looks correct, I have a feeling you didn’t accomplish it single-handedly. Five points from Gryffindor.”

As the bell rang, Snape effortlessly cleaned all the Potions with a flick of his wand. With perfect timing, Snape glided towards Kellah, his footsteps almost resembling the silent flutter of a bat’s wings. “You stay,” he commanded, his eyes narrowing with determination.

The group of boys from Slytherin couldn’t help but snicker among themselves. Pansy said, “Serves her right for messing with her butterface.” Ron and Harry looked as if they wanted to stay, but left.

“Have a seat,” Snape commanded.

“The students may fall for it, but I see through the deception. That is a beautification potion, obviously.”

“Professor Snape, as you have stated on many occasions, I am clearly incapable of potions so advanced.”

He closed his cloak, wrapping himself in a warm layer of protection. “Don’t lie to me.”

“So you're saying I am capable of making it? Professor, I’m confused.”

Locking eyes with her, Snape held a steady and unwavering gaze, challenging her with his stare. It appeared as though he was attempting to coax her into saying something. The sensation of a headache creeping in was present, but she resisted it and pushed it aside. Snape’s eyes widened significantly, becoming noticeably larger. “Five points from Gryffindor are to be deducted, and you are dismissed from my presence.”

Stepping out of the class, she was greeted by the sight of the boys, their eyes lighting up at her arrival. Harry scoffed and asked, “What did old batsy want?”

“To yell at me for helping you two,” Kellah said in a frustrated tone.

“Don’t stop now. We have homework on it, and I can’t recall how I made the potion,” said Ron.

Upon reaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Kellah had a vision with an unexpected sight: Lockhart, adorned in pink attire, accompanied by dwarfs with wings, who were his devoted fans and would frequently send him mail.

Overwhelmed by dizziness, Kellah’s condition was stabilized as Seamus and Dean promptly came to her rescue, ensuring she was safely settled into a seat. Using a slight nudge, Harry tried to get her attention without being too forceful. "Are you gonna stop using all the guys at school?”

“Not until we find out who opened the Chamber of Secrets.”

“Why do I feel like you never wanna know?”

Her stomach dropped with dread, knowing that there was a strong likelihood it was her. While she disregarded most of the class, she made it a point to take notes occasionally because of her desire to safeguard her pinky finger. It took some time and effort, but she ultimately succeeded in writing fan mail addressed to Lockhart.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, she walked up to him, extended the letter with a shy smile, and then blushed before hurriedly escaping. Although it had been too easy for her, she now found herself obligated to write him fan mail several times a week until Valentine’s Day. 

Time flew by, and before she realized it, February had already arrived, bringing along Kellah and Ginny, who had come to visit Hermione. “You look better. I had a fright, thought you had been petrified. People have been talking, you know.”

“Just a few hairballs,” Hermione said, taking a swig of her potion.

As Hermione reached out her hand, Kellah placed the notes gently into her palm. Ron and Harry said they’d come round later to give you homework.”

“Glad your pinky is still intact,” said Hermione.

Using her nimble fingers, Kellah playfully wiggled the pinky. “But did you hear about the Valentine thing for Lockhart?”

“Heard about it. I'm in the fan club. Harry’s getting one from me,” Ginny said.

“Merlin's beard, Ginny, that’s seriously so cute. Harry’s gonna go mad for it,”said Hermione.

“You sure Harry is a bit shy?” said Kellah.

“No, it's romantic,” said Hermione. “I wish I could send mine.”

“If it’s who I think it is, he’s gonna hate it,” Kellah said.

“Who is it,” said Ginny.

“No one, but how are you getting on made any mates,” said Hermione.

“This one girl, Luna, but they call her Loony, so not so much now. Well, Colin and a few girls in my year, you wouldn't know them,”said Ginny.

Time seemed to fly by as they chatted away, and before she realized it, Valentine’s Day had arrived. Kellah’s choice of attire for the occasion was impeccable, as she opted for a lovely set of pink robes and styled her hair into eye-catching space buns, elegantly wrapped. Delicately, she carefully arranged two pink ribbons, one on each side of her hair, enhancing her overall look. 

Dressing up was a rare privilege granted by the school, so it came as a pleasant surprise when Lavender, Parvati, and many other girls embraced it. The excitement she felt was immeasurable. Meanwhile, the boys either wore red or adhered to the conventional black attire. 

As soon as she entered the common room, her eyes were immediately drawn to the walls, which were completely covered in bold, lurid pink flowers. It was like that all over Hogwarts as she walked down to breakfast.

The moment she stepped into the Great Hall, she was greeted by a shower of confetti descending from the ceiling, setting the mood for a joyous celebration. Ron’s sickened look contrasted with Hermione’s giggly demeanor, while Harry’s irritation simmered in the background. “It’s brilliant,” Kellah said.

“It's bloody dreadful it is.” Ron looked so upset he couldn’t eat. Confetti fluttered down onto his food just as he attempted to take a bite. Ron put his fork down in a huff. 

Sitting down and brushing confetti off his bacon, Harry said, “What’s going on?” 

The room grew silent as Lockhart launched into a seemingly never-ending monologue, his words becoming a blur to the weary listeners.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Lockhart said amidst the sound of love songs playing and the sight of heart-shaped decorations everywhere. “I want to extend my thanks to the forty-seven kind-hearted individuals who have taken the time to send me fan mail! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all,” he announced, his voice filled with anticipation. “And trust me, the fun is only just beginning!”

Lockhart enthusiastically clapped his hands, causing the doors to the entrance hall to swing open, revealing a group of a dozen surly-looking dwarfs marching in. However, these were not your ordinary dwarfs. Under Lockhart’s direction, they were all dressed in golden wings and were also seen carrying harps and lutes.

“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” Lockhart’s face lit up with a beaming smile.

“Expect your valentines to be delivered by them as they roam the school today. And that’s not all the fun! I’m positive my colleagues will wholeheartedly join in the festivities! If you’re curious about creating a Love Potion, you could consider seeking guidance from none other than Professor Snape himself. Oh, and let me tell you, Professor Flitwick is a sly old dog who knows everything about Entrancing Enchantments!”

Profoundly distraught, Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape looked as if he would force-feed poison to the first person who requested a Love Potion from him.

“Please, Hermione, for Merlin’s sake, tell me you weren’t one of the forty-seven,” begged Ron as they hurriedly left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione’s attention shifted abruptly as she rummaged through her bag, searching for her schedule and ignoring the question.

Kellah couldn’t help but smile, her eyes lighting up with joy. “I was, and there will be a little surprise. It was the only reason I joined his little fan club.”

“How could you Kellah? Professor Lockhart is a splendid wizard, one of the best of our time,” said Hermione.

“Honestly, Hermione, have we been taking the same Defense Against the Dark Arts class?” said Ron.

The dwarfs, without a care in the world, persistently invaded their classes throughout the entire day to hand out valentines, causing great annoyance to the teachers. There was a disruption in Snape’s Potions class, causing Snape to wear an expression that strongly suggested he wanted to pour an acid potion on the culprit.

“I have a message for a Draco Malfoy. Is he here?” said the dwarf.

“Yes, now be quick about it,” Snape said, annoyed.

Kellah discreetly elbowed Harry and Ron, signaling them to pay attention. “Here’s the surprise.”

Clumsily playing the lute, the dwarf, decorated with cupid wings, produced sounds that were anything but pleasant.

 

His cold gray eyes like an old man’s hair

 

With hair so white and fair

 

Complexion so pale he’s sickly

 

He makes me feel icky

 

Features so sharp they cut like glass

 

An attitude like an ass

 

He is so haughty

 

 He makes me naughty 

It was impossible for the class to suppress their laughter as it permeated the room. Snape’s eyes burned with fury as he clenched his fists, fuming with frustration. He glared at the dwarf and snapped, “If you are quite finished, leave. If I hear any more laughter, I’ll be deducting ten points from each and every house,” Snape declared firmly.

In a matter of seconds, the lively atmosphere in the room vanished as the laughter died down abruptly. 

As Hermione stirred her Swelling Potion, she scolded, “That was not very nice,” her words carrying a hint of disappointment.

“As long as it’s not me, I find it quite hilarious,” Harry chuckled.

Little did he know on the way to Charms class, it was Harry’s turn to be humiliated by a Valentine. The dwarf was trying to present the valentine in front of a queue of first years including Ginny Weasley.Harry’s was visibly flushed. Realizing the potential embarrassment, Harry urgently needed to flee from the situation. Despite the crowded surroundings, the dwarf made his way through by aggressively kicking people’s shins, and astonishingly, he reached the person he was trying to catch up within just a few steps.

“I have a very important musical message that I must personally deliver to none other than ‘Arry Potter,” the dwarf declared, ominously twanging his harp.

“Not here,” Harry hissed, trying to make a run for it.

Kellah attempted to assist Harry in passing, but unfortunately, the dwarf pursuing him was not receptive to it. A sharp pain was felt in her shin as the dwarf kicked her aside to get to Harry. No one lifted a finger to assist her, their laughter drowning out any sense of empathy. Everyone except Dean stood back, but he extended his hand towards her. Kellah accepted his hands were callused and tickled her when they brushed her palm.

“Love your new look, but you looked good before, too,” Dean said, his fingers brushing against her cheek as he pushed a hair back. Kellah’s thoughts drifted away from Harry until the dwarf’s loud shouts caught her attention.

“Stay put!” the dwarf grumbled and tugged on Harry’s bag, pulling him backward.

“Come on, let go,” Harry snarled, tugging.

There was a sudden, loud ripping noise as his bag split in two. With a clatter, his books, wand, parchment, and quill fell to the floor, accompanied by shattering glass as his ink bottle broke open. Harry quickly picked up the scattered items, determined to finish before the dwarf’s singing created a traffic jam in the corridor.

“What’s the commotion about?” came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. In a rush, Harry crammed all his belongings into his tattered bag, the sound of zippers and rustling papers filling the air as he tried to escape before Malfoy could catch him.

“What’s all this?” said another familiar voice as Percy Weasley arrived.

Reacting to the overwhelming danger, Harry tried to escape by running away, but his plan was abruptly interrupted when the dwarf quickly and firmly grasped his knees, sending him crashing down onto the floor.

“Right,” he replied, positioning himself on Harry’s ankles. “Behold, I bring to you a singing Valentine:”

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

 

His hair is as dark as a blackboard,

 

I wish he was mine,

 

He’s really divine,

 

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord

Harry seemed so desperate that he would have given up all the gold in Gringotts if it meant he could disappear instantly. Struggling to keep up with the laughter, he mustered a brave smile and stood up, his feet looked numb from the weight of the dwarf. Meanwhile, Percy Weasley was diligently trying to calm down the crowd, some of whom were crying with uncontrollable laughter.

“Come on, come on, the bell rang five minutes ago. Off to class, now,” Percy said, shooing some of the little ones away. “And you, Malfoy —”

When Kellah glanced over, she noticed Malfoy stooping down and quickly grabbing something. As he leered, he revealed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and in that moment, Kellah realized that he now possessed Riddle’s diary.

“Hand it over,” Harry said under his breath.

“Curious to know what Potter put in here,” said Malfoy, who obviously hadn’t noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Harry’s own diary. A sudden calmness washed over the spectators, leaving them in a collective silence. Kellah’s frightened gaze shifted back and forth between the diary and Harry, her eyes wide with fear. In her mind, she was confident that she had taken care of it by flushing it away. It was now in Harry’s possession. This was bad.

“Give it here, Malfoy,” Percy said seriously.

Malfoy taunted Harry by waving the diary and saying, “Once, I’ve had a look.”

Percy started to say, “As a school prefect —” but Harry’s temper flared, cutting him off. As he brandished his wand. “Expelliarmus!” he shouted, the word carrying a sense of power and authority. Just as Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air. Grinning widely, Ron skillfully caught the object.

“Harry!” said Percy loudly. “It is strictly forbidden to use magic in the corridors. I want to make it clear that I will have no choice but to report this.”

Malfoy walked by Ginny and remarked, “From the looks of it, Potter didn’t fancy your Valentine!”

Running into the classroom, Ginny quickly covered her face with her hands. Witnessing Ron’s snarling demeanor, Harry swiftly intervened and managed to pull him away from the situation, despite Ron’s insistence on grabbing his wand. While Kellah did the same thing, her attention was focused on the diary.

Upon arriving at Flitwick’s class, Kellah posed a question. “Hey Harry, where’d you get that book?”

“In Myrtle’s bathroom, someone tried to flush it down the toilet, but you wouldn’t know ‘cause you’re too busy being Ms. Popular.”

Kellah ignored his snide remark. “Does it say anything?” she asked.

The pages fluttered under his touch as he flipped through them, the scent of ink wafting up from the book. “It’s blank. Hermione checked if it’s invisible ink, but nope.”

“You should toss it in the rubbish bin. No telling what you got.”

“Ron said the same thing, but this Tom Riddle has an award to the school Ron said, so he went to school when the first-”

“Class has started, Mr. Potter,” said Flitwick.

With a look of intense anger, Harry fixed his glare upon Kellah, and in return, she shot him a fierce glare. The object of their mutual disdain was none other than the diary that Harry had just placed into his bag. Interestingly, despite the soaking wet state of his other school items, the diary appeared completely free of ink stains.

Chapter Text

Kellah went to her room, and moments later, Milkyway appeared, knocking on the bay window. The window opened for her pet, and as Milkyway leaned in, she dropped a beautifully wrapped letter on the cushions Kellah was sitting on. The letter, worn and yellowed with age, sat untouched, trying to blow away in the wind. Milkyway caught it with her talons and poked Kellah’s with it. Fluttering her wings, the bird shut the window, holding the handle with its beak. Then, it fluffed its feathers and sat on the windowsill, squawking at Kellah.

Eventually, Kellah got the hint; opening the letter, heart-shaped bubbles floated out, accompanied by a whimsical image of a dwarf shooting an arrow, which dissolved into a pink cloud in the shape of a heart.

A gigantic heart-shaped pillow stood proudly, housing an abundance of roses in various shades of red. With her heart pounding, Kellah clasped it tightly in her hands, cherishing its presence. It smelled like him, the scent of a crisp green apple barely bitten into with a musk-like black leather. Kellah could almost feel him there chasing but was never quite able to catch her.

 Stopping herself from deeply inhaling his fainting essence on the pillow, she wrote to him. 

Kellah carefully removed one of the pink ribbons from her hair, sealing the letter with it. Giving the letter a simple spritz of the Angel perfume he had given her last year, she handed it to Milkyway. The bird looked at the closed window and then at Kellah. She opened the window for Milkyway, and her pet stomped its little feet out on the ledge and then flew away.

Laying the heart-shaped pillow on the bed with the rest of her bedspread seemed out of place. Reaching under her bed, she grabbed the music box, kept all her letters in it, and watched the ballerina Dean had given her twirl. Looking over the letters now she had so many they were hardly being contained in the music box. 

Sending this letter to him seemed inexplicable to Kellah, leaving her questioning her intentions. She felt a surge of confidence and optimism, but an undercurrent of unease began to brew. 

And she was proven right in the following days. Excitedly, Harry recounted to Ron, Hermione, and Kellah the incredible sights he had beheld within the pages of the diary. It was Tom Riddle catching Hagrid with a monster in a box that allegedly killed a girl. It was the first time the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, and Hagrid had gotten what people thought was a one-way ticket to Azkaban, but apparently, he got a round trip.

In Kellah’s mind, she could envision Hagrid’s perspective, where he saw every beast as deserving of understanding rather than fear. Last year, he had embarked on the daring mission of taming a dragon. No matter how often she corrected them, everyone continued to mistake Noberta for a boy. Having read countless books about dragons, she deeply understood their habits and instincts. Sure, Ron's brother Charlie was a dragonologist, but Ron was sure as Slythershit wasn't.

But back to Hagrid. Last year, Hagrid became the owner of Fluffy, a three-headed dog who, despite his intimidating appearance, showed nothing but affection towards Kellah. The only thing she needed to do was simply rub his belly and then reward him with a large bone. Although the others were intimidated, Kellah regarded him as nothing other than a large dog. 

Hagrid had likely believed it unfortunate that the monster had been confined for such a long time, and he believed it deserved the opportunity to extend its numerous legs. But she was equally sure that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.

By now, Harry seemed tired of telling the story, and Kellah was tired of hearing it. The other half of their foursome, Ron and Hermione, kept making him recount. Kellah, sick of the story, was pretending to be supportive. She knew the story. She may have lived some of it. At least Harry didn’t get trapped in the memory. But Hagrid opening the Chamber of Secrets didn’t seem likely.

“Riddle’s mistaken Hagrid’s not the culprit," Hermione said. “There has to be another monster attacking people...”

“How many monsters d’you think this place can hold?” Ron asked dully.

“Loads. Rumor has it this place used to be a dragon, but the four founders transfigured it,” said Kellah. “That’s why the motto is ‘ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus, ’ which means ‘never tickle a sleeping dragon.’”

“That’s hogwash, and like I said, Hagrid didn’t do this,” Hermione said, blowing a stray frizzy hair out of her face.

“We know Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably. “The attacks clearly stopped after Hagrid was taken from the school because Riddle got that award.”

“Riddle is a liar,” said Kellah. 

“We don’t know that for sure,” said Harry.

“Right then, Warlock Holmes,” Kellah replied.

Seeking a change in strategy, Ron tried a different approach.“Riddle sounds an awful lot like Percy — he grassed Hagrid right up?”

Hermione’s voice trembled as she spoke, “The monster— it actually killed someone. Ronald, Hagrid would never let that happen.”

“No, Hagrid’s not the type to intentionally let someone die, emphasis on intentional,” said Kellah with air quotes.

“Riddle was going back to some Muggle orphanage if Hogwarts closed,” said Harry, tapping the diary as it lay on the table.“Personally, don’t blame him…”

Kellah eyed the dairy on the table. What if it talked about her? It had already shown him a memory. It's a very incriminating memory. Peeling her eyes from the diary, she forced herself to look away at Ron.

“You met Hagrid in Knockturn Alley, right Harry?” said Ron.

“He bought some Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent,” said Harry quickly.

The air grew tense as the four of them fell into an uneasy silence. After a long pause, Hermione voiced a question in a hesitant voice. “We should ask Hagrid for his side of it all,” said Hermione.

“Are you mental, no?” yelled Kellah. 

“What a delightful visit that would be,” said Ron. 

Ultimately, the group collectively decided to refrain from discussing Hagrid’s expulsion unless there was another attack. 

As time passed, neither Kellah nor Harry heard a disembodied voice. It remained silent, and their optimism grew, leading them to believe that they would never have to confront Hagrid regarding the circumstances of his expulsion.

In Herbology, one day, Ernie Macmillan politely asked Harry to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools. Likely due to no new attacks, the Hufflepuff's were talking to Harry again. The school was still dreadful with Peeves gone. They were living on bursts of happiness, and they were all out of holidays. Well, they were out of important holidays for the kids. Easter didn't count because everyone studied for exams that weekend.

To everyone’s surprise, several Mandrakes threw a raucous party in Greenhouse Three in March. It was so wild the other plant species began to wilt. They had to be separated. This news brought much happiness to Professor Sprout despite the extra work.

“We’ll know they’re fully mature when they start trying to move into each other’s pots,” Professor Sprout told everyone. “Then we can help those poor folks in the hospital wing.”

Witnessing that sparked an idea in Kellah’s mind after class. “We should go see Nearly Headless Nick at the hospital wing,” Kellah told them.

“He’s already dead, he’s fine,” said Ron.

“Yes, we have to work on this Hagrid Riddle debacle,” said Harry.

“No, we should cut Nick’s head all the way off. Surely you'll help me, Hermione,” Kellah asked.

“What’s the point of doing that?” Hermione wondered.

“It’d be class if he woke up headless,” Kellah bounced with excitement.

“Feel free to go and do that. I will be in the library,” said Hermione, making her leave.

“And you guys?” Kellah asked.

“I need to figure out this diary,” said Harry.

“Homework and Hagrid. See all the different things,” Ron said, cracking a book open. “Also, ask Hermione if she can help me. I've been getting behind on my homework.”

“That’s because you and Harry wait until the last minute,” Kellah said, trotting off and bumped into Dean.

“Sorry I'm in a rush,”he said.

“Me too,” Kellah said quickly making her way through a shortcut to the library.

Stepping into the armory through the imposing iron gated doors, Kellah’s eyes were immediately drawn to the magnificent sight of an armored horse and four shields, each proudly showcasing the symbols and colors associated with the four Hogwarts houses. As she looked around, her eyes landed on a display of a formidable knight mounted on a mighty armored steed, their presence adding an air of strength to the scene. As she turned the corner, she came face to face with a suit of armor, its sword glinting ominously in the dim light. Many armored horsemen suit of armor stood proudly in front of tapestries that depicted their thrilling adventures.

 The most notable element that caught her attention was an armored troll. The sheer magnitude of it was almost enough to make it touch the ceiling. Believe it or not, the feather on its helmet was long enough to actually touch the ceiling.

 Small displays of hamlets were placed on stands. Additionally, there was an abundance of horsemen adorned with beautiful tapestries. It was quite a spectacle to witness, with armored men on horseback assuming a jousting pose and, nearly colliding with each other.

 Encased in glass, the armored centaur was her favorite. She didn’t notice this during her first year, especially when running from Filch. The sight in the room was extraordinary, with tiny house elves adorned in armor and one delicately balancing a tea tray. Close by, there was an impressively massive trophy room. In the corner of the room stood a suit of armor that was humming. Annoyed by its presence, the suit of armor adjacent to it reacted by violently beating and ultimately dismembering it. It then hummed sheepishly in a pile of its parts. From the remnants, Kellah picked up an iron dagger and pocketed it.

Now that she had her weapon for Nick she needed more information which meant the library. A sun cross symbol was etched onto the mahogany door that provided access to the library. Kellah’s gaze was drawn toward the grandeur of the library’s high ceiling. It is quite astonishing that she never took notice of the elegant chandelier that graced the room, even after multiple visits. There were two floors, but Kellah only went to the top floor for the balcony view. The sheer enormity of the place made her uncertain whether she could locate Hermione. Thanks to the Wizard Dewey Decimal System she could find her. There were nine areas much like the Muggle systems:

An Invisibility Section

A Dragon Section

A Reference Section

A Legal Section

A Poetry Section

A Restricted Section

An Alchemy Section

A Creature Section

A Language Section

 It was obvious Hermione was in the creature section unless the creature was considered dark. Then it would be in the restricted section. 

Walking by, she glimpsed a fireplace accompanied by two chairs and a globe. Since the incident last year when Kellah, her friends, and the inferi nearly burned the place down, it has undergone significant renovations. A tapestry caught her eye, revealing a scene of a man deep in thought as he penned a book, with a stack of books and a skull resting on his desk. Over his shoulder, two beings whispered to him - one was a demon, and the other was an angel. There were a lot more portraits in the library than expected. Everyone of the portraits remained silent except for one person who repeatedly exclaimed their love for The Three Broomsticks. Madam Pince had to shush them continuously to maintain the peace. To Kellah she looked like the female Snape with a hat.

When Kellah arrived at the iron gate of the restricted section, she immediately noticed Hermione standing on the other side of the bars. 

“Mind opening the gate?”Kellah said clinging to the bars.

With a sense of urgency, Hermione hurriedly made her way over. She reluctantly agreed, muttering, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Kellah sat near a display of house elf taxidermy.“How’d you get permission?”

“Obviously, Lockhart.”

“Yet you still think he's the brightest wizard of our age.”

“Naturally.” Hermione took a moment to arrange a selection of books focused explicitly on magical creatures and put them on the shelf. “Though it's good, you’ve come to help.”

“Actually, I came to help Nick.”

“He’s alright. The mandrakes are almost ready.” Hermione slammed a book shut.

 “Exactly the one thing he has wanted for centuries is to be in the Headless Hunt. It’s all he talks about.”

Ignoring Hermione’s temper tantrum caused Kellah to notice a book about ghosts, She wasted no time snatching it up. The title read The Brave Mortal’s Guide to Ghost Hunting. This was the restricted section so it had to have what she needed. When Kellah opened the book, the sound of crinkling paper greeted her.

“You could help me figure out the creature,” she said, her eyes pleading for assistance. You have a knack for handling situations like this effortlessly.”

Kellah casually flipped a page in the book she was reading. “I will after this.”

While browsing, she came across a page that provided information on how to deal with and eliminate ghosts.

It seemed simple enough. She picked up a book nearby titled Ghost Studies.

No kidding because it never worked on Peeves. Plus Hogwarts had too many floors. 

“Okay, I think I got it. If we find his grave and burn just a small part of his neck, it should do the trick. Do you know where he was buried?”

“Ask one of the other ghosts,” said Hermione. 

With a dismissive eye roll, Kellah left. On her journey to the common room, she bumped into Dean while she was entering the porthole and he was exiting.

Without thinking she said, “Sorry trying to find something to do.”

“You can do me,” Dean he smiled so hard his dimples became deeper. He would have blushed if he could.

 Kellah couldn’t help but roll her eyes in disbelief when she heard the comment. She had no time to deconstruct his words she needed to find a ghost, preferably not Moaning Myrtle. 

On her walk she saw a set of ghosts dancing in the corridors that completely ignored her then went through a wall. Another set of ghosts having a sword fight. She followed them for a while until they phased through a wall she couldn't find an alternative entrance too. Didn’t even get to see who won.

As she walked further, another spectral figure she encountered was the infamous Bloody Baron. This was worse than Myrtle she would almost rather go to that haunted bathroom.

 “Bloody Baron,” she called out, “where can I find the grave of Nearly Headless Nick?” 

“Hogsmeade cemetery, why did you ask me such nonsense,” he said.

“Oh, I want to sever his head so he can join the Headless Hunt,” Kellah exclaimed.

“A ridiculous notion. I wish to be rid of you,” he muttered, his words trailing off as he went through her jiggling his chains then disappeared. Kellah was covered in ectoplasm. It was like being drenched with wet dog drool all over your body. Spitting some out her mouth Kellah brandished her wand. “Skurge.”

It cleaned the slime-like substance off her body. Originally she learned it to scare Moaning Myrtle but this was a better use of the spell.

Kellah struggled to come up with a solution, thinking intensely and feeling quite perplexed about the possibility of gaining access to Hogsmeade, wondering how she would achieve it.

Her recollection of the path to Dumbledore’s office. She went through the armory again and cast Alohomora on the gate at the end of the hall. Going up two flights of stairs and ignoring a corridor full of rooms she was now in front of the statue of a Griffin.

She easily recited the last password. “Lemon sherbert.”

Unfortunately, the door did not open as expected. Acting dishonestly, she resorted to a self-imposed state of mind to experience a vision. Kellah closed her eyes and breathed slowly until there was nothing and no one in the room but her. It was pitch black in her mind. Then she focused on the door and she could feel her sense heightening and then nothing. No vision came, it was a dud. She really needed to take Divination next year. This was pathetic. What kind of Seer can't channel a vision or remember it. 

Making a detour from the usual path, Kellah ventured through a series of statues featuring mystical creatures like thestrals and griffins, eventually arriving at a door that was equipped with an elaborate spinning mechanism. It was before this very room that an extraordinary vision had manifested itself. Her actions consisted of repeatedly moving her wand from right to left, then downwards, followed by a motion from right to up, and finally two leftward movements. Why was it always a vision when you don’t need one? Just as she was about to forget the last bit, the door suddenly swung open.

 There, in the confines of this small tower that remained locked and untouched by any student at Hogwarts, was a book of ancient origins that had clearly not been handled by human hands since the very moment the four founders placed it there upon completing the castle. Alongside the book, which features a cover made of peeling black dragon-hide, she found a small inkpot made of silver. Emerging from the inkpot was a long quill that had lost its color over time. The Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance were the sole methods employed to determine which students were eligible to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Kellah had heard about it from a book Hermione had forced her to read. Trying to touch the book, she reached out, but to her surprise, it remained suspended in the air, beyond her reach. After a moment of hovering, it settled itself back down on the low pillar. Upon closer inspection, she noticed the name Dennis Creevy scribbled there. Oh no, there would be another one.

Resting on a nearby desk, there was a single key. Although it may have been the key to the headmaster’s office, there was no door in sight. Kellah reached for her broom and took it out from its storage place. Recently, she stumbled upon a spell that allowed her to keep it in a pocket-sized form. With the broom tightly gripped in her hand, Kellah confidently opened the window and took a step outside, defying gravity as she floated effortlessly. Spotting a balcony in close proximity, she wasted no time and flew directly towards it. A choice had to be made between the two doors that were present outside. She went to the one at the top, and as she entered, she noticed that it had a cozy, intimate atmosphere, like a hidden retreat. However, the room was flooded with an overwhelming amount of natural light because of the abundance of windows.

Slowly, she descended the worn stone steps on the side of the castle. The beauty of the view was awe-inspiring, leaving her speechless. The panoramic view encompassed Hogsmeade, the sprawling castle, and the sparkling lake below, creating a scene of pure enchantment. This was why they made this the headmaster's office here.

As she unlocked the door and entered the room from the balcony she saw Dumbledore hunched over a table, his hand swiftly moving across the paper. “Well, I’m curious to know how you got in.”

“I’m a Seer, I see things,” Kellah said.

“How very clever of you,” he chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Now, let me know how I may assist you Kellah.”

“I’m dying to behead Nearly Headless Nick, but I’m stuck ‘cause his grave’s in Hogsmeade, and I have no idea how to get there.”

He raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“It’d be class if he woke up headless. It’s what he wants.”

“Students under the third year are not permitted in Hogsmeade.” Dumbledore sighed. “But I do wish to see if this experiment proves successful,” he said, determined to find out. “You have my permission,” he stated firmly, his words carrying a weight of authority.

“Alright, so when can I go?” she asked impatiently, tapping her foot.

“Now is the time we go,” he declared.

“We,” she asked.

“Yes, we. It has been a rather dark time, and it would be nice to have a bit of an adventure.”

Kellah trailed behind Dumbledore, taking in the grandeur of the castle walls as they made their way outside. She was doing a lot of walking today. They stopped at a signpost.

A sign so cluttered with information that she couldn’t make out the words on the post. Unfortunately, the readability was lacking in all but two of the items. They said Hogwarts and Hogsmeade with arrows. After careful scrutiny, they decided to include additional wizard towns, such as Hogsmeade Station, Aranshire, and Broe Burrow, in the lineup. Kellah had never even heard of the other towns. She didn't realize there were so many wizard towns. The wizarding world was very secretive if you didn't read about it, or explore it you wouldn't know a thing.

 A worn sign caught her attention, revealing the words “Historic Hogsmeade” in faded lettering. The word “historic” puzzled her. The area seemed devoid of any significant landmarks or old buildings. The signpost was adorned with an excessive number of signs, approximately twenty in total, which proved to be a bit overwhelming.

 As they strolled along the cobblestone street, she couldn’t help but admire the lampposts that illuminated the path, eventually leading me to a breathtaking bridge perched atop a gentle hill. Hanging from the roof of the stone bridge, there was a bright red and gold banner that proudly displayed the name “Hogsmeade.”

 Not only did they have the pleasure of enjoying a magnificent view of the village below, but we also discovered an underpass that seamlessly connected both sides, making it even more convenient for residents and visitors alike. In the town square, there were various amenities available to the residents, including a newspaper stand that offered publications such as Charmed magazine, the Daily Prophet, and Witch Weekly. 

Then, a statue embedded in a tree of Hufflepuff Hengis of Woodcraft, the founder of Hogsmeade, who was driven from his home by Muggles. Hidden from view, the cemetery only revealed itself after one traversed a hill and a grand residence boasting a picturesque windmill and a mesmerizing waterfall. The grand mausoleums stood tall, but there was a conspicuous absence of a grave for the founder. Her suspicion grew, and she wondered if he was buried beneath the ancient tree nearby. A hidden sanctuary as his final resting place, away from prying eyes.

 Dumbledore called her. “Follow me,” he said, leading Kellah in a particular direction.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

Along the way, they encountered several imposing mausoleums until finally stumbling upon a headstone that bore the name of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

“Well, this is it. What’s next?”

They proceeded to open his grave and exhume his remains. Dumbledore waved his hand over the grave, and the dirt effortlessly poured out, revealing the hidden coffin beneath. Even in death, Nick’s appearance remained as lively as the day he died.

“Why does he still look fresh,” she asked.

“Preserving our deceased loved ones through magic honors their memory and nourishes the surrounding earth, as coffins are not a suitable resting place for both wizards and Muggles.”

As Kellah hopped into his grave, a shiver ran down her spine, her heart beating faster. Dumbledore glided down, his long robes billowing behind him. “According to the theory, if we burn the small patch of skin, it should result in a proper decapitation.”

Dumbledore lit his finger, and as the flame danced and crackled, he watched as it seared the tiny piece of skin. It was as if Nick’s ghost had materialized for a moment before vanishing. 

“That was not as adventurous as I thought,” said Dumbledore.

“Yeah, I thought he would put up a fight.”

“Well, he is petrified at the moment.”

With a graceful motion, Dumbledore ascended, his hand outstretched to beckon Kellah up with him. Not only did he cover the dirt, but he also took the time to polish Nick’s headstone until it gleamed.

“Alright, Professor, lead the way back,” Kellah tucked a sample of Nearly Headless Nick's remains in her pocket. She was tempted to collect deadman's toe. It was a potions ingredient for a bit of dark magic.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”There was a nagging feeling in the back of Kellah’s mind, telling her that this was all too good to be true. He waved his wand, and chairs materialized out of thin air. They took a seat, sinking into the plush cushions. “Have you confided in your friends the secret of you being a Seer?”

“No, I tried, but I don’t think they believe me. They could hardly believe that Harry could speak Parseltongue,” Kellah remarked.

“That is unfortunate. Why do you think that is,” he asked. 

“Well, everyone takes things so logically. Even if it is magic, they think it’s not tangible, so it mustn’t be true, especially Hermione.”

“Interesting, but I sensed you have told someone.”

A blush crept up Kellah’s face, giving away her embarrassment. The beautification potion had taken away her pokerface of not being able to blush.“Well, Dean figured it out, and I think he also has unique magic. He says the magic whispers to him.”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened in astonishment. “That is a rare bit of magic. I shall keep an eye on him. But do you like this, Mr. Thomas?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I never really talk about this stuff. It’s always something like the mysterious Chamber of Secrets or the legendary Philosopher’s Stone.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “It is true that one must not forget to embrace the joys and freedom of their youth. I have heard you also like Mr. Malfoy.”

“You read the letter he gave me with the Queen of the Night when I was in the hospital wing last year,” she said, peeling the excess skin off her nail. “I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m confident it was Draco with the letter D.” Her nail was now bleeding. She sucked on her thumb then stopped. “Draco is a bit of a puzzle, but I still like him.”

“Is that why you’re using a beautification potion,” he said. 

Kellah blushed again covering her face. “Did you hear it from Snape?”

“Professor Snape did not tell me, but Mr. Malfoy should appreciate you for who you are on the inside, not just your outward appearance.”

“I will keep that in mind, Professor,” she replied, her words laced with sincerity.

Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat. “I find it quite delightful how easy it is to converse with you. You are much more talkative than the other children.”

“You’re talking about Harry, aren’t you?”

“Naturally, shall we go.” Walking together, hand in hand, they continued their journey until they finally arrived at the school gates.

As they strolled through the school grounds, Kellah reflected on her feelings for Draco Malfoy. It was true that she had found a letter from him during her time in the hospital, and it had sparked a curiosity within her. Draco was an enigma, a puzzle she was drawn to, despite his sometimes cold demeanor. Part of her knew he might be her first love and he would break her heart but she may just be willing to live with the heartache.

Chapter Text

The second-year students were presented with something new to ponder during their Easter holidays. It was time for them to decide on their subjects for the third year, and Hermione, in particular, approached this matter with great seriousness. Kellah took it as seriously as she did. She was determined to make the most of her educational experience by signing up for every class offered. Kellah thought its magical school classes wouldn’t be boring unless it were Professor Binns. 

With a zeal that could only be described as madness, Hermione took notes on the page, capturing every detail precisely. It seemed like she was going overboard. 

“This is gonna change everything for us,” Hermione told them while they went through lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

“Can I ditch Potions?” Harry asked.

“Can’t, I'm afraid,” said Ron gloomily. “We must stick with all the core subjects, or I would’ve given up Defense Against the Dark Arts. Our professors are always rubbish.”

“That’s the one that matters the most!” said Hermione, shocked.

“Not the way Lockhart teaches it,” said Ron. 

“That’s completely false. We learned what a proper wank professor is,” said Kellah.

“I learned how to act,” said Harry.

“Yes, badly,” laughed Kellah.

“Wait, I learned not to let the pixie loose,” Ron chuckled.

Hermione, frustrated, started checking everything on her list so hard she punctured the parchment with her quill. “Don't mess about, take this seriously.” 

“Choose the easy-looking stuff,” Harry said.

“That’s a brilliant idea, Harry! I’ll join you, and we’ll be in the same class again,” said Ron.

On the list, Kellah spotted Divination among the various options. It read: Describing the foretelling knowledge of the future involves painting a picture of a mysterious power that unveils the secrets of tomorrow. Who in the bloody hell wrote that description? They sounded more like a charlatan than a Seer. She needed this to unravel the mysteries behind her visions and understand their purpose; the lack of options left little room for choice. Taking that class was a necessity for her. Torn between wanting to open up and fearing judgment, she kept her thoughts to herself, unable to share with her friends. 

Letters from every witch and wizard in Neville Longbottom’s family had been sent to him, each containing distinct suggestions and advice on what he should choose. Feeling confused and worried, he settled himself in a chair and carefully perused the subject lists with his tongue slightly protruding.“Should I go for Arithmancy or Ancient Runes? Ancient Rune sounds challenging.”

 Kellah told him, “Give those a miss and focus on your core classes.”

“I reckon I’ll go for Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. They appear simple.”

Taking a deep breath, Kellah felt a calmness wash over her. “I’m taking those too, and I’ll help, but they aren’t easy. Well, Divination probably will be.”

After that, the school was buzzing with second-year anticipation as students eagerly signed up for Divination and were keen to explore the chance of an easy O.

Dean Thomas, who, similar to Kellah, had a background of growing up with Muggles, ultimately closed his eyes and randomly selected his wand to point at the list, choosing the subjects it landed on.

Kellah shook her head vigorously, a look of disbelief crossing her face. “Muggle Studies is the class for you - they teach a bit of Muggle Music and Art, which I know you like. Or just plain Muggle Art, that’s an extracurricular.”

“Art like wizard art making painting comes to life,” Dean nodded and added that extracurricular to the list. “Still taking Divination for that easy O and Care for Magical Creatures, but no Muggle Studies. I get enough of that at home.”

Once that occurred, the situation transpired in such a way that many individuals began approaching Kellah for advice, resulting in Percy appearing visibly troubled. Ignoring the advice of others, Hermione disregarded it all and signed up for every opportunity. Eager to share his experience, Percy Weasley couldn’t wait to tell everyone about it.

“It depends on where you all want to go,” he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “When it comes to the future, it’s never too early to start planning.” The most nonadvice ever. 

Divination, Ancient Runes, Care for Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy were the subjects that Kellah ultimately pursued in her magical studies. She would also take all the subjects that Hermione did. Taking Art with Dean was a thought that crossed her mind. Not only did she include all the regular subjects on the list, but she even went so far as to add Ghoul Studies as an extracurricular activity. Her course load consisted of seven core classes, along with two extracurricular activities and four electives. Next year, she was scheduled to have a total of thirteen classes, whereas Hermione had a slightly lower number of twelve.

Fixing her gaze upon Percy, she studied his face intently. “Is this too much,” she asked.

“Ditch Ghoul Studies, ghosts don’t matter. Oh, wait, they meet once a week. It is possible to do. Juggling twelve classes, I am holding up just fine,” Percy said, puffing out his chest so his Prefect badge was showing.

“If you call having a stick up your arse, fine,” said Ron under his breath. Harry and Kellah shared a mischievous laugh while Hermione shot them disapproving looks.

Upon entering Potion’s class, it was clear that Snape was in an especially foul mood. Taking a seat, Kellah observed Snape skillfully utilizing his wand to draw on the chalkboard, capturing everyone’s attention.

Kellah absentmindedly doodled in her notebook without clearly understanding what she was drawing or why she was doing it. Her gaze shifted upwards, and she refocused her attention on Snape. “I have formulated a lesson on Revealing Potions,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his fists clenched with fury. “That will expose the deceit, revealing the true faces of your classmates, Kellah; it should remove your makeup. If that is all you have done to your face,” Snape spat, his voice dripping with venom, “now drink it.” 

The harshness of his tone pierced the air, leaving a bitter taste in Kellah's mouth. She trembled at his words. “I refuse.” She couldn’t bring herself to say yes. 

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice quivering and his eyes darting around the room, searching for something. “Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini hold her down,” Snape commanded.

 The three boys loomed over her, their shadows casting an eerie darkness that sent shivers down her spine.

“We already know it will strip away her makeup,” Ron growled. “What’s the purpose of making her consume it?” Ron snapped, his gaze fixed on the untouched vial of potion.

Professor Snape's face turned red with rage, veins bulging in his forehead as he uncorked the Revealing Potion. “It is a simple demonstration, Mr. Weasley.”

Ron’s body trembled with desperation, his eyes wild with determination as he attempted to leap out of his seat and grab Malfoy, but Harry’s timely intervention thwarted his desperate move. Hermione fidgeted in her seat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room, unsure how to break the silence.

Malfoy’s nostrils flared with rage as he forcefully gripped Kellah's hands behind her back, his knuckles turning white, her wand pulsating with fiery energy. Kellah’s eyes welled up with tears as Malfoy effortlessly plucked her wand from her grasp, leaving her feeling defenseless.

Frustration etched across Theo’s face as he forcefully jammed the vial onto Kellah's lips. Her jaw clenched with anger. “I have yearned for the chance of offering you a taste.”

Blaise’s grip on Kellah’s cheeks grew harsh and forceful, his expression twisted with pleasure. Her mouth quivered as he pried it open, her eyes wide with terror. “Disgusting, little Mudblood; I must scrub my hands clean after this.”

Gasping for breath, Kellah desperately consumed the potion, feeling her skin bubble and burn as she clung to the hope that it would save her from her desperate situation. It was futile, she frantically covered her thinning hair, acne, and chipped nails, in vain seeking a way to hide her perceived flaws. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach as Kellah dreaded breaking down in front of the entire class through tears-stained cheeks, vowing never to let them see her cry again. 

The classroom laughter was a taunting symphony, pushing her further into a pit of despair as she yearned not to be judged. It ignited a fury within her from the pits of despair as hot tears streamed down her face. “It’s a bit late for tears,” said Malfoy.

Snape’s stern face softened slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he sternly declared, “No sleeping in my class,” causing her classmates to stifle their laughter.

A sudden stillness settled over the classroom, their unwavering stares locking onto her, amplifying her desperate need for escape. Kellah’s eyes shot open, her heart pounding, as she found her head resting on a crumpled bit of parchment bearing the words “wake-up,” written in her own handwriting, yet she couldn’t recall penning it. 

“Five points from Gryffindor,” she heard Snape say. Frantically, Kellah wiped the drool from her mouth, her movements desperate and urgent, hoping to regain some semblance of dignity.

“Today’s lesson will focus on the Revealing Potion and its properties. Could someone please enlighten me on what that is?” Snape inquired.

While Hermione confidently raised her hand, Kellah chose not to participate for once. Moving with deliberate steps, Snape walked around the room until he finally arrived by her side. “How about Ms. Onai-Dellarose, the top potioneer in the class? Surely you will know.”

“Um, Professor, I think I should probably go see Madam Pomfrey,” she stammered, her voice quivering with worry as she thought about her nightmare.

“Why are you afraid I will reveal that you use a beautification potion?”

Giggles escaped the students’ lips as they leaned toward each other, sharing secrets and jokes in hushed tones. “Kellah’s not even that pretty,” said Pansy.

Daphne Greengrass muttered under her breath, “She’s so fake. It’s like she’s hiding behind a fortress of makeup.”

Kellah’s throat tightened, her hands trembled, and her body stiffened, desperate to escape the suffocating grip of embarrassment. She clenched her fists, determined to carry out an act that would cause the utmost humiliation for herself. 

“Professor,” she snapped, her tone sharp and eyes narrowed, “I need to use the bathroom immediately.”

“Hold it,” Snape said, eyes wide with alarm as if he had just spotted lurking danger.

“You can’t hold a period,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as if her entire world depended on grasping an intangible concept.

Kellah was going to be embarrassed, anyway. At least this way, she could regroup for later. She would rather talk about her time of the month than have magical work done with a potion.

“Very well, you may leave, but that's five points from Gryffindor for cheek.”

Hands trembled as Kellah clutched her bag tightly, her eyes darting around, fearing someone would follow her. Blaise’s face lit up with delight, his finger extending eagerly towards her seat, a bright smile spreading across his lips. “No one sit there could be dirty blood.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she hurriedly made her way to the hospital wing, her shoulders slumped and her breath shaky. Frustrated, she slammed her fist on a nearby bench, her face flushed with rage as she yearned to erase every flaw and be flawless. The thought of being treated like Eloise Midgen, with her painful acne boils, brought a heavy sadness that settled upon her like a dark cloud. And this was her hair and her skin. They would have said worse things. Kellah was going through an emotional rollercoaster. Maybe she was getting her period.

With heavy steps, she walked towards Madam Pomfrey, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumped, weighed down by sorrow. “I need something for my time of the month.” She was upset; it wasn't even her time of the month, but a potion for it later couldn't hurt. 

Gently, Madam Pomfrey placed a vial of potion and a brochure into her trembling hands, her voice filled with melancholy sympathy. “Everything you need to know is contained within those pages. Potions and spells. We also have Muggle ways of solving the problem for Muggle-borns, if that is what you prefer.”

Kellah shook her head. “No, the wizard way is actually quite good.”

“Do you need a note for class?”

“Honestly, it's just Snape’s class I don't—”

With a clenched jaw, Madam Pomfrey ripped the parchment with a sharp, aggressive tug, her face flushed with anger and frustration. “I’ll write one now that man thinks he can let little witches cry for interrupting his class. Merlin forbid they have a normal bodily function.”

She forcefully handed Kellah the note, Madam Pomfrey body stiffening as if expecting a terrible outcome, before pulling her into a quick, anxious embrace. A desperate glimmer flickered in Kellah’s eyes as she read the message, realizing she had the rest of the day off a tiny spark of hope amidst the uncertainty. She had a day to figure out what to do. Kellah was only a second-year witch as talented as she was. She was no Hermione. Kellah needed someone cleverer; she needed Tom Riddle. 

Kellah raced up to the common room, her breaths shallow and rapid; her desperate need for help drove her to the second-year boys’ dorm room. She was rushing to Harry's room in a state of panic. Time slipping away, she frantically overturned furniture and searched every nook and cranny, her voice quivering as she whispered a desperate plea to find the diary. Who knows what it would say? With a heavy sigh, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes filled with melancholy as she noticed the fading glow that once adorned her face—hastily casting Diffindo, the sound of tearing fabric and breaking wood illustrating her manic state, hoping that this act of destruction would somehow hide the truth. The mirror shattered into countless shards, reflecting the brokenness she felt inside. Her eyes welled up with tears, and a heavy weight settled on her chest. As she reached down to pick it up, tears streaming down her face, she caught a glimpse of her distorted image in the mirror, tightly clutching the diary close to her heart.

Startled by the sound of footsteps, Kellah immediately sought refuge by concealing herself behind the wreckage. “Oh, no, poor Harry,” she heard Neville say. 

Curiosity getting the better of her, Kellah stuck her head out of the dorm room, and with a stroke of luck, she discovered an empty corridor. Continuing her journey to the girls’ side, she eventually reached the bathroom. Thoroughly, she went through each stall before ultimately locking the door. 

With trembling hands, she cautiously opened the diary, her eyes darting around the room, fearful of being caught. Words spilled onto the page, a desperate plea for help.

Following his instructions, Kellah for the first time in months looked at her real face. Not only did her hair look better, but her skin also appeared healthier and more vibrant. However, it didn’t quite measure up to the effects of the beautification potion. The luster in her hair had faded, and her face had minor acne, but it was nothing a quick fix couldn’t solve. A hint of imperfection had appeared in her smile as her teeth had shifted slightly out of alignment. Looking at her face, she understood it would transform irreversibly, never to be the same again. With little tweaks here and there, the final product was transformed into a masterpiece. Not needing braces was a pleasant surprise, but her nose was a concern. As she touched it, she realized it would shrink significantly in size. Compared to that one change, all the differences on her face would be barely noticeable. 

Could she honestly go through with this plan to alter her appearance and prevent Snape from humiliating her in front of her classmates, who would then spread the word throughout the school? Should she turn the diary in and give it back to Harry?

The diary seemed to sense her doubt, for its pages quivered as if possessed, ink bleeding onto the paper in a sinister dance.

Complying with his guidance, Kellah followed his instructions and appeared identical to when she had used the beautification potion, except with no cosmetics. Then she laughed uncontrollably, her whole body shaking with sorrow as tears of madness rolled down her cheeks. 

Kellah aggressively smeared on her makeup, her strokes harsh and forceful, fueled by the simmering sadness that consumed her thoughts. With each step, her heart pounded in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears as she descended into the dimly lit common room, her senses on high alert. Ron, Harry, and Hermione huddled tightly together on the loveseat. Their eyes are wide, and their bodies tense as if expecting something terrifying could happen at any moment.

Once Kellah sat on a lone lounge chair, Harry blurted to them. “Someone stole Tom Riddle’s diary.”

 Sitting in the middle, Hermione gripped the book Ancient Runes Made Easy tightly, her breathing ragged as she read it, desperately searching for answers. The color drained from Hermione’s face as she took in the shocking news. “Only a Gryffindor could have stolen it—nobody else knows our password —” 

“Exactly,” said Harry.

“Anyone with the password can get in as you did at Christmas with the Slytherin password,” Kellah stated. 

Ron gave a little nod. “That’s right.”

Kellah’s smile twisted into a sneer, her jaw clenched tightly, a fire burning within her, satisfied that this cunning move would deter them. 

The following day, Kellah woke up feeling a pit of dread in her stomach, yet her appearance remained flawless, masking her inner turmoil. A melancholy sigh escaped their lips upon hearing the news of the schedule change, their shoulders slumping in resignation at the prospect of enduring an extended Potions class. “I wonder what that’s about,” Kellah said.

You know what.

The haunting timbre of the voice in her head instantly brought tears to her eyes as memories of Tom Riddle’s dark influence flooded her heart. It should have felt like an imposition, but a warm glow enveloped her, and a delightful tingling sensation danced across her skin.

“It’s about you and taking a beautification potion,” said Hermione.

“Not taking it, Hermione. If I were, I would sell it to Eloise Midgen because she really needs it with that acne.”

“I can tell,” Hermione said, with curiosity, “your eyes are just a touch lighter than before.”

“Why are you staring so hard? And I’m in the sunlight. Black people can have lighter eyes, Hermione, you would know.”

Kellah stormed off, her fists clenched tightly, her eyes blazing with fury as she reached Potion’s class early. She glared intensely at Snape, her eyes burning with rage, silently daring him to prove her wrong. Everyone shuffled into the room, their eyes cast down, feeling the weight of Snape’s smile like a heavy cloud, suffocating their spirits. The Slytherins were delighted, as they are every Potion’s class.

Snape’s sudden, ghost-like glide to her desk sent shivers down her spine, his feet barely making no sound as if defying the laws of gravity. But what are the laws of gravity to a wizard? “Ms. Onai-Dellarose, I assigned Ms. Granger as your partner yesterday. If she possesses the necessary skills, it will be a Revealing Potion.” He placed the vial in front of her.

 Her gaze hardened, and she glared at the potion. Kellah's eyes widened with delight as the potion’s vibrant blue sheen sparkled like a thousand sapphires. It pulsated rhythm, permeating the air with an enchanting melody. A radiant smile spread across Kellah’s face as she eagerly consumed the vial’s contents, the sweet elixir dancing on her taste buds, filling her with pure bliss. As her makeup smeared and faded away, she remained unchanged.

“That’s it, she hasn’t changed at all,” said Pansy.

“That’s a good makeup remover, Professor. You should sell it,” Kellah said. “A tad sour, though.”

The intensity of Snape’s glare drilled into Kellah, making her feel as if she had ignited a dormant fury within him, ready to explode at any moment. A wicked grin spread across Snape's face, relishing in the intense satisfaction of hating her. Snape’s lips curled into a wicked smile, a glimmer of cruel delight shining in his eyes, at the prospect of tormenting Kellah even more than he did Harry. The class crept on, the students desperately clinging to any semblance of hope, their eyes pleading for relief from the endless torment under Snape's gaze.

At the end of the class, Hermione had a conversation with her. “I thought you were using a beautification potion.”

“I was, but I cast some spells on myself, so I no longer need it. This is how I will look now,” she announced as she applied a bold shade of red lipstick.

“You should go to Madam Pomfrey straight away.”

Kellah’s grip tightened around Hermione, her whispered words in her ear dripping with venom, fueling a fiery rage within her. “So you're saying you wouldn't fix those buckteeth?”

Hermione’s breath hitched, and her hand instinctively shot up to cover her mouth as she frantically fled, desperately trying to escape a situation spiraling out of control.

Kellah’s nostrils flared, her fists clenched tightly, refusing to succumb to the notion of going to the hospital wing, filled with defiance.

With a sinking feeling, Kellah faced the next day, Gryffindor well mainly Oliver Wood was desperately longing for a victory in this Quidditch match, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise uncertain world. 

Kellah’s heart pounded in her chest as she rigorously selected an outfit from her neatly organized closet, her hands trembling with anxiety, afraid of making a fashion faux pas. Clutching the tube top tightly, she carefully tried to adjust it, her growing breasts causing the fabric to strain, a desperate attempt to find something that would still fit her changing body. To cover herself, Kellah reached for a cardigan and draped it over her shoulders, unbuttoned, of course.

Leaning against the wall outside the Gryffindor common room, Harry’s shoulders slumped, his gaze distant and filled with sorrow. “I heard that voice again.”

“You and me both,” Kellah muttered to herself.

Hermione’s face lit up with excitement as she sprang from her seat, the book slipping from her fingers and landing on the floor with a satisfying thump. “Harry,” she whispered eagerly, “I’ve had a breakthrough. I reckon I’ve figured something out! I'm off to the library!” And Hermione sprinted away, up the stairs.

Ron let out an exasperated sigh. “Why is it always the library?” he muttered.

“I’ll go with her,” Kellah stammered, chasing after Hermione.

Kellah’s hands shook with desperation as she saw Hermione tear out the page, a desperate plea in her eyes for an answer, for any kind of resolution. Suddenly, her vision faded into darkness, her body going limp as she collapsed to the floor, overcome by an unknown terror. She stumbled backward, her eyes widening in terror as she found herself suddenly outside the library, even though she had just stepped inside moments ago. Rushing back inside, Madam Pince’s watchful gaze met her at the door, intensifying the desperate need for answers. 

“I’m sorry,” the tearful Madam Pince whispered, choked with sorrow, “but there has been an attack. You can’t enter.”

“Who is it?” she asked.

Shaking  her head, Madam Prince made it clear that she disagreed with telling her the name. Not bothering to wait, Kellah exerted strength to push past the individual obstructing her path and continued down one aisle. Although she couldn’t explain how she knew, she strongly felt that this was the right one, and then she spotted Hermione. A mirror was gripped so tightly in Hermione’s palm that King Arthur himself couldn’t pull it from Hermione’s hand. As Hermione and Ema Sato stood petrified in a desperate plea for help, their eyes pleading for escape from their frozen prison. Their bodies could not move or even breathe, barely alive. Kellah stumbled and let out a piercing scream. Her cries grew louder and more desperate, her voice hoarse and her body wracked with sobs as she lay on the cold floor, feeling utterly defeated. 

Kellah’s heart pounded in her chest as she awoke in the sterile hospital wings, disoriented and unsure of how she had ended up there. Her mind flooded with a sense of impending doom. Her ears clung to every word uttered by Professor McGonagall, desperate for guidance and reassurance amid chaos.

Professor McGonagall’s unusually gentle voice broke the silence as they neared the infirmary. “This will shock you both,” she said. “Yet another double attack has taken place.”

Seeing Harry’s face contorted into a mask of terror, his pale complexion mirroring the dread that twisted Kellah’s stomach. Professor McGonagall cautiously pushed past the curtains, her breath catching in her throat as Kellah’s friends stepped into the dark, eerie room. Madam Pomfrey’s hands shook as she leaned over the fifth-year girl, her face pale and eyes wide with alarm.

Kellah’s eyes welled up with tears as she eagerly awaited her friends arrival, only to see them both rush past, leaving them feeling forgotten and insignificant.

“Hermione!” Ron’s groan was a heavy, mournful sound laden with the weight of his shattered heart.

Gently, Harry tenderly ran his fingers through Kellah’s hair. “Are you alright?”

But Kellah could not answer her throat was dry she felt mute unable to make sense of the words flooding her brain.

Hermione lay utterly limp, her eyes staring blankly into the void, her expression reflecting the depths of her desperate longing for anything to change.

“They were found near the library,” said Professor McGonagall. “I don’t suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them. We tried asking Kellah, but she’s in a bit of shock.”

Clutched tightly in her palm was a petite, circular mirror, its smooth surface reflecting her curious gaze. Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes fixed on Hermione and Kellah. The room seemed unreal to Kellah as if she had stepped into a dream world where the people were nothing but illusions. She lay in bed, her trembling hands gripping the sheets, desperate for sleep to grant her respite from the overwhelming chaos of her reality. The defiant words fueled her fury, stirring the flames of resentment as she clenched her fists, determined to prove that everything would be okay again.

“Allow me to guide you back to Gryffindor Tower,” said Professor McGonagall, her words carrying a weight of responsibility. “Regardless of the circumstances, I am responsible for addressing the students.”

Reluctantly, Madam Pomfrey extended a trembling hand, offering Kellah a glass of water as if it held a potion of unknown consequences. She accepted it with quivering fingers, her eyes darting anxiously around the room before retreating into a restless sleep. Gripped by uncertainty, she shivered in bed, unable to distinguish between the haunting whispers of her dreams and the chilling reality that surrounded her. 

After she slept her body moved with a heavy numbness, each step a burden as if someone else guided her movements while a deep sorrow weighed her down. 

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she entered the common room filled with frantic whispers, McGonagall’s urgent announcement fueling a desperate scramble for answers and solutions.

Harry urgently grabbed her hand and pulled her away, desperation evident in his trembling voice and wild eyes. “Ron and I will go to Hagrid’s to see what's happening. I need you back in the hospital wing, alright?”

Kellah’s head nodded vigorously, her eyes filled with gloom as she desperately clung to any glimmer of hope. The soft murmur of gossip reached her ears, causing a pang of sorrow to settle in her chest, reminding her of the rumors surrounding her. She hesitantly crawled into bed, her body tense and eyes darting around the dimly lit room, fearing what lurked in the shadows as she drifted off. 

Chapter Text

Kellah lay silently in the hospital bed, surrounded by her victims. She wouldn’t deny it any longer. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her heart heavy with shame. She hadn’t uttered a single word since she set foot in that place. A heavy lump formed in her throat, as if wisps of smoke intertwined with her sorrow, making it impossible to speak. She didn’t know what she would do if Hermione died if she couldn’t be unpetrified.

The blame for the situation lied solely on her shoulders; it was entirely her fault. Kellah’s fingers anxiously tugged at her hair, with wide somber eyes, as she sought relief from the overwhelming pressure crushing her spirit. She would tentatively pull, then abruptly stop, her hands grasping at her hair in despair, yearning for a solution to her seemingly insurmountable problem. Her desire was for people not to notice that anything was amiss. Kellah wanted the pain to be where they couldn’t see it. Her trembling hand clenched into a tight fist, her nails digging deep into her palm as if trying to anchor herself from the encroaching fear. A smile tugged at her lips as the blood flowed, a strange sense of relief washing over her, brightening her spirits. 

Madam Pomfrey made her way over to her, carrying a Calming Draught to help soothe her nerves. Only she no longer needed one. “I wanted to check on your well-being, Ms. Onai-Dellarose. Are you quite well?”

Taking notice of Kellah’s neglected hair, the nurse carefully smoothed out the frizz and tangles that hadn’t been tended to in days. 

“Given the circumstances, losing Dumbledore, having Hagrid in Azkaban, and Hermione petrified is not ideal, lest we forget that you have other friends who can be there for you.”

A heaviness settled in her heart as she longingly thought of Harry and Ron, their absence leaving a void in her life. She couldn’t escape the haunting realization that Hermione had suffered the same fate as those before her. Now, Kellah stood alone, surrounded by the statues of her own victims. 

“What happened to Dumbledore?” Kellah wondered.

“According to Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, there have been an alarming number of attacks, with Hagrid being accused as the culprit in the previous incident. As a result, they arrested him and removed Dumbledore from his position. Their only desire is to pin the blame on someone. This is why I’m a nurse here and not a St. Mungos, too much politics.”

The thought of Dumbledore being gone put a smile on her face that shouldn't have been there. Kellah tried to cover it by ingesting the Calming Draught. “You’re awfully chatty today.”

“My other patients aren’t interested in pleasant conversation at the moment.”

“Well, this was a nice chat, but I reckon I’m alright. I have exams to study for.”

Struggling, Kellah made a valiant effort to rise to her feet. “You’ll stay put.” Madam Pomfrey pushed her down. 

Despite not understanding the cause, Kellah couldn’t deny the fact that she was feeling unsettled. Unfortunately, the Calming Draught did not produce the desired outcome and instead seemed to increase her sense of vulnerability. Driven by a mysterious impulse, she acted on it without understanding why, embracing Madam tightly, then bidding her goodbye with a wave and a softly spoken message. “I’m fine now. Let me go.”

Madam Pomfrey remained motionless as Kellah released her. “You’re fine. I’ll let you go.”

Kellah’s hand hovered over a vial of Calming Draughts, her breath quickening, feeling the weight of her overwhelming emotions, but ultimately left. If one didn’t work, why would another?

She hurriedly entered Gryffindor Tower, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting an unseen threat to follow her inside. Madam Pomfrey was supposed to escort her, but she was in a deep trance. The common room was deserted, with everyone either tucked away in their dorms or retiring early for the night. 

As she approached the girls’ side of the dormitory, her attention was drawn to the plaque adorning the entrance to the second year girls’ dorm, and she couldn’t help but stare at it. She cautiously stepped inside, her body tensing up, anticipating the unknown, as Lavender’s arms enveloped her in a tight, suffocating embrace. “I can’t bear the thought of you going through this,” she pleaded.

Parvati’s voice cracked with sorrow as she choked out, “She's your best friend. I can’t imagine it.”

“Thank Merlin. It’s a relief,” Layla said, “knowing the heirs, not Harry. Shame what happened to Hermione though.”

Kellah looked at Lavender with a puzzled expression. “Thought you didn’t like Hermione,” she said, her tone curious.

Lavender’s arms wrapped tightly around her, but she flinched, feeling a chill run down her spine as if she were being embraced by a ghost. “She is a bit much, but she’s still a Gryffindor. Besides, we live in the same dorm. We have to be civil.”

Layla gave a sympathetic smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. “I’ll pray for you.”

Parvati perked up. “Me too.”

Lavender’s lips twisted into a grimace. “Although I’m not religious, I’ll make an exception and say a prayer for Hermione.”

Kellah woke up the next day feeling even worse than before, causing her to spend a considerable amount of time looking at herself in the mirror, hoping to find a way to smile. Her roommates had already left. It was uncommon for her to be so tardy in her departure. Leaving was a difficult task for her as she struggled with conflicting emotions, a part of her not wanting to let go. If she decided not to leave, there was a possibility that someone else would suffer harm. Out of everyone involved, she would be the only one who would experience any hurt. She believed it was preferable to inflict harm upon herself rather than cause harm to someone else. 

With desperation in her eyes, Kellah clutched her wand tightly, frantically muttering the incantation for the severing charm on her face, hoping it would provide a quick escape from her unbearable circumstances. She peeled back the layers, her trembling fingers revealing Tom Riddle’s face, his cold, piercing gaze drawing her in.

Kellah’s eyes shot open, her heart pounding, as she awoke to find herself drenched in cold sweat and surrounded by a pool of drool in her porridge.

 In the somber atmosphere of the Great Hall, Harry’s voice cracked with sorrow as he shared the heartbreaking details of what transpired during her time in the hospital, his words heavy with grief. “Hagrid said to follow the spiders.”

“And to feed Fang,” Ron added.

Kellah didn’t want to talk about the Chamber of Secrets; she wanted to forget everything. Her smile at Harry was pleading, her voice frantic as she urgently whispered in his ear, her trembling hands clutching his shoulder. “Let the adults handle this.”

 Her forced smile quivered on her trembling lips as Harry’s hand reached towards her face. Harry wiped a single shed tear.“Kellah, are you alright? You’re crying.”

Ron’s ears turned a deep shade of crimson, his voice forlorn, “We miss Hermione too, and we have to do this for her sake.”

Kellah’s chest tightened, her breaths shallow and rapid, as a sense of dread consumed her. She couldn’t bear the thought of going through with it. She didn’t want to talk about it and she couldn’t escape it. Panic gnawed at my insides as the overwhelming sense of urgency enveloped everything, leaving no space for hope.

Frustration boiled within her as she craved to reach her classroom ahead of schedule, her fists clenched in silent fury at the restriction imposed upon her. They had to be escorted everywhere. She just needed a minute to herself. If she didn’t get it, she was afraid she would wind up in the hospital wing again, or worse, St. Mungos. 

Overwhelmed by despair, Kellah collapsed against the bathroom sink, her tear-soaked face reflecting the misery in her eyes. She wailed in pain, pressing down hard on her palms with her sharp nails, unable to contain her sorrow. “What are you doing in here,” she heard a voice say. 

“Dean,” she asked, turning around, only to find that it was Blaise Zabini.

He forcefully folded his arms, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, radiating an aura of hostility. Blaise’s uniform was impeccable. He had a Slytherin necktie pin that was so shiny it was blinding her in the sunlight of the day. 

“After your friend, it’ll be you Mudblood,” he said.

Kellah blinked. “You’re normally so quiet,” she growled, “so why this sudden boldness?”

He turned with her, his jaw clenched and eyes blazing with fury, closely monitoring her every step, as if ready to intervene at the slightest misstep. Her finger danced along his spine, a delighted giggle escaping her lips as she felt the electric warmth that pulsed through his body.

 “Just reassurance that you’ll be next. Your fake beauty can’t help you.”

With deliberate intent, Kellah closed the distance and maintained unwavering eye contact. She had this uncanny feeling that she had the power to penetrate his thoughts and gain insight into his inner workings. As her breath tickled his ear, he shuddered, his body tensing up in anticipation of what she might say. “You don’t think that tell me the truth.” 

Kellah’s face lit up with delight as he giggled, feeling a playful nibble on his ear that sent shivers of delight through him.

In his desperate attempt to distance himself he tried to push her and failed. He was ensnared by her unwavering gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope in her eyes that ignited a sense of desperate longing within him. His mind was full of ideas of him always toeing the line, never picking a side protecting himself first and his mother. “I don’t want you to die. I honestly couldn’t care either way, but you are so nice to look at. I will be a little sad if only for a moment.”

Planting a tender kiss on his cheek, she beamed at him, her eyes shining with pure happiness. “Why would you lie to me?”

“Because you’re a Mudblood, things such as these are never spoken aloud by Purebloods. No one wants to be a blood traitor like the Weasleys.”

As Kellah leaned in for a kiss, Blaise’s body froze with desperation, desperately clinging to the moment as if it were his last lifeline. He exhaled forcefully, his breaths becoming harsh and ragged, while she turned her face away, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. “Leave my sight.”

It had been a fortnight since the attack, and although Kellah’s health was declining, her rejuvenated face seemed to defy the odds and appear more radiant with each passing day. The spotlight seemed to shift towards her as she started to attract more and more attention. People paid closer attention to her words and treated her with increased respect.

Draco was positively beaming, his eyes twinkling with joy, unlike anything she had seen since the Halloween party they shared. He walked around the school with a swagger, his head held high and a cocky smile on his face. While Ron and Harry were bothered, she couldn’t help but find it somewhat pleasing. 

In Potion’s class, he didn’t hold back his opinions since Snape rarely punished him for speaking his mind. The Slytherin students surrounded him, captivated by his words. Concentrating on his potion, Blaise’s focus wavered as he half-listened to the ongoing conversation. Secretly, Theo attempted to flirt with Daphne Greengrass, stealing glances and flashing charming smiles. So Draco was mostly talking to the captive audience of Crabbe and Goyle. 

Taking his seat in the front row, Draco found himself situated right in front of Kellah, Harry, and Ron. 

“It doesn’t surprise me at all that Father would be the one to get rid of Dumbledore,” he said, not even bothering to lower his voice. “Father said Dumbledore is the worst headmaster in the history of the school. I find myself agreeing with him. Perhaps we’ll finally have a suitable headmaster, someone who shares our mindset. One who expresses a preference for the Chamber of Secrets being open. McGonagall won’t last long, she’s only filling in...”

Making no mention of Hermione’s empty seat and cauldron, Snape briskly walked past Kellah.

“Sir,” Malfoy exclaimed loudly. “I think it would be a great idea for you to apply for the position of headmaster.”

“Now, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said, unable to hide a slight smile. “The governors have only suspended Professor Dumbledore. It’s more of an administrative paid leave. I believe he will return to us in due time.”

Malfoy smirked as he sarcastically replied, “Yeah, right. Sir, Father would certainly support your application for the position. Sir, I will inform Father that you are the finest teacher at this place.”

As Snape made his way around the dungeon, a smirk played on his lips, completely unaware of Seamus Finnigan’s amusing attempt to feign sickness by pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

“I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags by now.” Malfoy turned to stare at Kellah for a moment. “I’ll wager five Galleons that the next one perishes. Pity it wasn’t Granger.”

At the exact moment when the bell rang, Kellah seized the perfect opportunity and delivered a swift smack to the back of Malfoy’s head, using her book bag. He nearly went arse over kettle. His face was mere inches from his potion of Swelling Solution.

While Ron had leaped off his stool, everyone was busy scrambling to collect their bags and books, completely unaware of his attempts to reach Malfoy. 

“Cheeky bastard, we’ll have it out,” Ron growled as Harry and Dean hung onto his arms. Kellah watched, amused, refusing to help. She wanted Malfoy hurt. “I don’t care. I just got a new wand. I want to test it out. Screw the wand. I’ll do it with my bare hands. I’ll kill him!”

“Yeah, Ron, go for it,” Kellah exclaimed, showing her enthusiasm.

“You are not helping,” said Dean.

“That is her helping,” said Harry, struggling to hold Ron back.

“Hurry up, I must escort you all to Herbology,” barked Snape over the class’s heads, and off they marched, with Harry, Ron, and Dean bringing up the rear, Ron still trying to get loose. Once Snape had escorted them out of the castle and they were walking across the vegetable patch towards the greenhouses, it finally felt safe enough to release him.

The atmosphere in the Herbology class was quite calm due to the absence of Hermione. The experience felt different because there was no one to compete with and challenge Kellah in answering questions. Their class assignment involved the pruning of Abyssinian Shrivelfigs, a highly aggressive plant species renowned for its remarkable adaptability to thrive in various conditions. 

Upon reaching the compost heap to discard withered stalks, Kellah was surprised to find Draco already there. “Sorry about before. I was just—”

“Being yourself, that’s just as funny as someone trying to sabotage the Mandrakes.”

Malfoy had a smug grin. “Funny that. I’ll let Crabbe and Goyle know. Could be good fun.”

“The plant will kill them,” Kellah said.

Malfoy shrugged. “It’s only Crabbe and Goyle.”

Carelessly, Kellah tipped over the bucket, causing some of the withered stalks and dirt to spill onto Malfoy’s prized dragon scale boots. “You don’t care if anyone dies, do you,” she said.

As he bent down to clean his shoes, he suddenly stopped and locked his gaze on her, expressing, “I care if you do. Be my girlfriend. I’m tired of playing games.”

Kellah’s lips curled into a bittersweet smile, her tears blurring her vision, each drop carrying the weight of her heartache. Her hands moved frantically, hysterically trying to wipe away the relentless stream, her strained smile betraying her desperate need for the tears to cease. 

Ron stormed towards Kellah, his fists clenched and his face flushed with rage, ready to confront the source of his fury. “What did you do to her, Malfoy, you wanker?”

“I did what I do best,” Malfoy shrugged.

Carrying a pair of pruning shears, Harry came over and demonstrated their use by making a snipping noise. “Stay away from her or I’ll prune you, Malfoy.”

Politely, they led her away to join them at their table. “Want me to clobber him for you?” said Ron. 

Harry playfully tapped Ron’s hand with the pruning shears to draw his attention. To Kellah's dismay Harry began talking about following the spiders and going into the Forbidden Forest. Kellah made it clear that she did not want them to do that. 

With a firm grip, she forcefully plucked a handful of unsightly weeds from the pot and defiantly locked eyes with Goyle as she past him to grab more dirt. “You should get rid of the spiders around the school. They scare me,” she said.

Not knowing how to articulate his thoughts, Goyle simply nodded, his silence speaking volumes. He was casting longing glances her way, giving her googly eyes. Blaise, who happened to be passing by, came over and forcefully took hold of him. “Stay away from her. She’s the worst kind of Mudblood.”

Draco then came by. “Those are the best Mudbloods, the dirtier the better.” Kellah couldn’t tell if he was flirting with her or insulting her. Knowing Malfoy, it’s both.

“I want no part in whatever twisted kink play this is,” Kellah declared with conviction.

“Whose playing,” said Draco.

“I don’t play with your kind,” said Blaise. 

“Why not go play with the roosters, huh? Killing animals seems more your speed than humans. Little Death Eater in training.” Kellah had never used that word before and wasn't sure how she knew it.

Blaise’s eyes had a dazed look as if he were lost in a distant world. “Yeah, they are more my speed.”

Malfoy smiled. “Wow, not many people can handle Blaise like you did. I'm impressed.”

“You’re nothing to impress,” Kellah said.

Strange occurrences kept happening all day. Her head felt heavy with sorrow and her thoughts were consumed by a dark cloud, especially in Lockhart’s class, where every word seemed to magnify her pain. 

With a burst of energy, Lockhart enthusiastically bounded into the room, leaving the entire class in awe as they fixated their stares on him. While all the other teachers in the place wore grimmer expressions than usual, Lockhart, on the other hand, appeared nothing short of buoyant. In contrast to everyone’s misery, he stood out as the life of the party. Although Kellah felt nothing but gloom, she decided to keep her feelings to herself. 

“Come now, children,” he cried, a wide grin spreading across his face as he surveyed the group. “Why do you all look so glum?” Exasperated expressions were shared among the students, yet no one uttered a word.

“Don’t you people realize,” Lockhart said, his words dripping with condescension, as if he thought they were all a bit slow, “the danger has passed! The culprit has been caught,” Lockhart announced triumphantly.

“Says who?” said Dean Thomas loudly.

“Yeah, I’m with Dean,” Kellah chimed in, showing her alignment with his perspective. “Hagrid is not the sort to do this.”

“My dear young people, the Minister of Magic wouldn’t take an innocent man,” said Lockhart, in the tone of someone explaining it like an actor not a teacher.

“Oh, yes he would,” said Ron, even more loudly than Dean.

“You flatter yourself Mr. Weasley. I daresay I know a touch more about Hagrid’s arrest than you do,” said Lockhart in a self-satisfied tone.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you catch Hagrid sooner?” said Kellah.

Lockhart refrained from mentioning Hagrid for the remainder of the class. Instead, they were required to reenact yet another scene from his book. Kellah looked around, and Blaise had bird feathers on his jumper. Goyle ruthlessly squashed every spider he came across, their fragile bodies crunching under his heavy boots. While Draco was staring at her intently. 

Chapter Text

Laughing with pure delight, Kellah twirled in her white dress that clung to her body, the raindrops glimmering like diamonds in her hair. Rain streaming down her face, she sprinted through it, her mouth agape. Suddenly, a bitter, metallic flavor lingered on her tongue. It was blood. 

Covered in sticky crimson blood, she jolted awake, gasping for air, her body drenched in cold sweat. Feeling the wetness against her legs, panic overwhelmed her, and she desperately searched for a way to conceal the fact that she had wet the bed. As she gingerly lifted the covers, her eyes welled up with tears, her heart sinking at the devastating truth revealed within. At first, she suspected that the blood might be a sign of her menstrual cycle starting, but the alarming thing was that the blood had spread all over her body and her bed, yet there was no trace of blood between her thighs. Kellah’s grip tightened on her wand as she cast the spell Scourgify, desperately hoping it would somehow lull her to sleep and not wake her roommates. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, pleading for rest that seemed forever out of reach.

It wasn’t until her Transfiguration class that she shook off the zombie-like feeling that haunted her for the rest of the day.

Sweat trickled down Kellah’s forehead as she strained to concentrate, her eyes darting back and forth, desperate to block out Ron and Harry's scheming to enter Myrtle’s bathroom and absorb her Transfiguration lesson instead. After Hermione became petrified, Kellah emerged as the top student in the class, surpassing even Padma. 

Professor McGonagall’s announcement about the upcoming exams, scheduled for the first day of June, one week from today, had everyone on edge, and their sanity gradually slipped away as she went into further explanation.

“Exams?” howled Seamus Finnigan. “We’re still getting exams with all this mess about?”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang that came from behind Kellah, causing her to turn around and see that Neville Longbottom’s wand had slipped, resulting in one leg on his desk disappearing. With a wave of her wand, Professor McGonagall restored it and then turned her attention to Seamus, a frown forming on her face.

“The entire point of an educational institution is to receive your schooling. That is precisely why the school has remained open thus far,” Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Therefore, exams shall be implemented. I trust you are all studying hard.”

“I have nothing else to look forward to,” said Kellah.

Kellah had been studying hard, with most activities canceled and everyone running around, making a right fool of themselves. It was all she had to keep her mind off of things. For her choices, she could either pursue a romantic path, take on the challenge of finding the monster that she believed she was mostly responsible for, or prioritize her studies. She chose the easier route, which was studying. 

Sometimes she slipped and took a gander at flirting with the Malfoy. She might as well have been flirting with the devil. As her mum said, if you flirt with the devil, you will always end up hurt. Malfoy had hurt her many times. One minute she was Mudblood, and the next he wanted her to be his girlfriend. She sank to her knees in her chair, her hands gripping her hair in desperation, unable to bear the relentless emotional whiplash any longer. Exhausted and on edge, the weariness seeped into every fiber of her being. She just wanted it all to end.

Later that day, Dean finally caught up with her in the common room. She had her nose buried in a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts and focused on learning more about defensive spells after realizing she had memorized all of Lockhart’s works which was piss poor learning.

As Dean took a seat beside her, she could hear Ron and Harry whispering to each other, shamelessly trying to grasp the last bits of information before the exams. "How are you getting on?” Dean asked.

“Fine,” she said, echoing the typical response of everyone else.

Dean leaned in, his face brushing hers. “But you’re not fine. You’re normally a riot. You've always by yourself since Christmas. Is it the attack you can say?”

Kellah’s smile became strained, her jaw throbbing with pain as she pushed it wider, desperate to hide the anguish within, her grip on hope slipping away. “No, I'm fine. I need to study, that's all.”

“Is it Hermoine,” he blurted out. The incident had such an impact that Ron couldn’t hold on to his book, prompting Kellah to promptly shut her book and abruptly rise from her seat. 

The book collided with Dean’s chest as she slammed it with all her might. “I have exams!” she exclaimed, feeling a wave of stress wash over her. “Pondering about these details is not a luxury I can afford right now. If you want to chat, Harry or Ron are your guys.”

Kellah’s feet barely touched the ground as she raced towards her dorm room. Desperate for release, she frantically cast the spell to soundproof the room, collapsing onto Hermione’s bed and unleashing a hoarse scream until her throat throbbed and her jaw felt numb. Defeated, she collapsed from exhaustion, her body trembling with anxiety, yearning for a peaceful escape from her troubles. But there was no peace. She dreamed of screaming herself away that night.

A few days before the exams, Professor McGonagall had an announcement at breakfast. It was too early in the morning for Kellah to handle any serious news, so she didn’t feel like stomaching it. Harry was eating the tiniest bit of toast. No one had been eating right except Ron. He could always stuffing his face. Actually, he was eating more.

“I bring wonderful news,” Professor McGonagall said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted. “Dumbledore’s coming back!” several people yelled joyfully.

“The Heir of Slytherin has been caught!” squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

“Quidditch is back on!” roared Wood excitedly.

“You changed the uniforms to something more pleasing to the eyes,” said Kellah.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready and fully mature at last. There were two that almost didn't make it, but we nursed them back to health. Tonight, we shall revive those who have been petrified. I need to remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who the miscreant is. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with the culprit in custody.”

There was an explosion of cheering. But to Kellah, that was the sound of a mob. If it had been her, she would have to end this tonight. No one would care if it was a mistake because she was a black Muggle-born. With those odds, she was already a goner. Look what they did to Hagrid for being a half-giant!

Kellah looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn’t at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy had joined in the gossip. Glimpsing her staring, Malfoy responded by winking at her. Harry, like everyone else, was paying attention to the happenings at the Slytherin table. Ron, however, was looking happier than he’d looked in days.

“Then it won’t matter that we never asked Myrtle!” Ron said to them, “When Hermione wakes up, she’ll have all the answers! Mind you, she’ll go mad when she finds out exams are in three days. She hasn’t studied. Leaving her where she is until they’re over might be kinder.”

“Too right, but Hermione was top of the class; she would pass,” said Kellah.

“Was?” said Harry.

“Yes, I'm top now,” Kellah smirked.

Right at that moment, Ginny Weasley arrived and joined Ron by taking a seat beside him. Her tense nervousness did not go unnoticed by Kellah, who observed Ginny’s hands twisting anxiously in her lap.

“Alright, Ginny?” Ron said, helping himself to another bowl of porridge.

Not uttering a word, Ginny’s apprehensive gaze swept across the Gryffindor table, evoking a sense of familiarity in Kellah’s mind, even though she struggled to identify who it reminded her of. Kellah was racking her brain, desperately trying to recall if she had ever done anything in front of Ginny, even the slightest thing.

“Spit it out,” said Ron, watching her.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry but glaring at Kellah. 

“What is it?” said Harry.

It seemed like Ginny was at a loss for words and was visibly searching for the right ones to articulate her thoughts.

“What?” said Ron.

As Ginny parted her lips, silence prevailed as no sound emerged. Harry leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, making sure that only Ginny and Ron could catch his words. Kellah did not like this. She was going to have to shut her up. 

“Is it about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen or heard something? Someone acting oddly?”

When Kellah caught sight of Percy, their eyes locked, and she captivated him, causing him to make his way over to their table.

After making eye contact with Ginny, she couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind it, but she had a feeling that Ginny wouldn’t bring it up at that moment. 

“We would all love to hear it, especially Harry,” Kellah said. 

Drawing a deep breath, Ginny opened her mouth, and at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired. “If you’ve finished eating, I’ll take that seat, Ginny. I’m starving. I’ve only just come off patrol duty.”

Ginny’s sudden reaction made it seem as if her chair had been jolted with electricity. She quickly glanced at Percy with fear in her eyes before hurriedly scurrying away. Taking a seat, Percy’s hand instinctively found a mug waiting for him in the middle of the table. Kellah knew it was perfect; no one would suspect her now. Ginny’s fear rendered her voiceless, unable to utter a single word to anyone, particularly Harry Potter. 

“Percy!” said Ron angrily. “She was going to tell us something important!” 

Halfway through a gulp of tea, Percy choked.“I beg your pardon,” he said, coughing.

“I had asked Ginny if she’d seen anything odd, and she started to say...”

“Oh, that’s nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets,” said Percy at once, clearing his throat.

“Is that right?” Ron said, his eyebrows raised.

“Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was—wwell, never mind—the point is, she spotted me doing something, and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I thought she’d keep her word. It’s nothing, really; I’d just rather—”

Kellah noticed Percy seemed unusually uneasy, a look of discomfort etched on his face.

“Percy, what mischief were you getting into?” said Ron, grinning. 

“Go on, tell us, we won’t laugh much,” Kellah smiled. Percy didn’t smile back.

“Pass me those rolls, Harry. I’m famished,” Percy said.

Kellah smirked. “Would it have anything to do with Penelope Clearwater and Ema Sato? I saw you three arguing last year.”

“Percy, you’re like a dog with two dicks,” said Ron. 

Percy stood up. “I must be off then.”

Tomorrow, Kellah knew that if things continued in this manner, she would inevitably be discovered. Was that such a bad thing? She was tired of hiding this. She wanted to come clean. Kellah had done so much wrong, and she didn't understand why. She just wanted it all to end. Perhaps she should confide in someone, but the thought of exposing her vulnerability made her stomach churn with unease. The weight of desperation hung heavily in her chest as she trudged towards History of Magic class, her feet dragging. 

Lockhart, who had frequently reassured them that the danger was over, only to be immediately proven wrong, had now come to the wholehearted belief that it was hardly worth the trouble to guide them safely through the corridors. On this occasion, his hair lacked its usual sleekness. It appeared that he had spent most of the night awake, diligently patrolling the fourth floor alone. While the other teachers took turns on the other floors, he was Lockhart, after all. He could handle it, or rather, lie about handling it.

“Take heed of my words,” he declared, guiding them around a corner. “The first words uttered by those poor, petrified victims' mouths will undoubtedly be ‘It was Hagrid.’ Honestly, I find it surprising that Professor McGonagall deems all these security measures necessary.”

“I completely agree, sir,” said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise.

“Thank you, Harry, my dear boy,” said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuff’s passing. “Walking students to classes and standing guard all night,” he grumbled, “is just another added burden for us teachers who already have so much on our plate.”

“Spot on,” said Ron, catching on. “You can leave us here, sir. We’ve only got one more corridor to go.”

“You know, Weasley, I think I shall,” said Lockhart. “I really should go and prepare for my next class.” And he hurried off.

Racing against the clock, the rest of the class quickly made their way through the corridors, determined not to be petrified for their next class.

“Prepare his class; that's a laugh,” Ron sneered after him. “Gone to curl his hair, more like.”

“You guys, go talk to Myrtle. I will check the library for more information,” Kellah said. 

“Good thinking,” said Harry.

After letting the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, they swiftly darted down a side passage. At first, Kellah deliberately acted as if she were going in another direction, but soon enough she caught sight of McGonagall discussing something with Harry and Ron. Ultimately leading them straight to the hospital wing.. She wasted no time and headed straight towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom in a hurry. 

When she entered she saw Lockhart, Kellah immediately noticed that he had his wand drawn. “You foul fiend,” he seethed, his eyes flashing with determination. “I’ve been counting down the days for this since our little photoshoot and now you’ll finally face the full force of my wrath. Oblivate!”

Kellah’s eyes widen as she unintentionally summoned a powerful spell, unaware of her abilities. “Protego.”

Lockhart, after being knocked out, experienced the unfortunate consequence of his spell backfiring on himself. She cut his hand, then put words on the wall. “Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.”

She didn't know what she was doing. It felt as though she was trapped in a nightmare, observing her helplessness unfold before her, unable to intervene. Her body shuffled wearily towards the sink of Myrtle’s bathroom, the weight of grief dragging her steps, each one heavy with the memories of the petrified. Gazing into the mirror, her eyes welled up with tears as she despised the reflection that mirrored her inner pain. The person she had become was no longer recognizable as her. She couldn’t help but whisper, even though she didn’t want to. “Hisassha”

The tunnel yawned before her, its dark abyss swallowing the feeble light, and her heart pounded with terror as she slid down, the chamber’s entrance sealing shut behind her. With a trembling voice, Kellah urgently muttered words in parseltongue, her gaze fixated on the snakes adorning the door, desperately hoping for a way out of the perilous situation she found herself in. With a creaking sound, the door swung open, revealing an ominous room that sent shivers down their spines. She pressed a hand to the door aware that Harry could enter. Maybe he could save her.

Gently, she lowered the diary to the ground, a heavy sigh escaping her lips as the pages turned, and the haunting presence of Tom Riddle materialized before her. His looks put Cedric Diggory to shame. One couldn’t help but be captivated by his dark hair, big brown doe eyes, and a face that resembled a masterpiece carved by the gods. It was like Adonis reborn. Never before had she encountered such a stunningly attractive individual in her entire life. Granted, she didn’t have a long life. And it was getting shorter by the minute.

The moment his hand made contact with her face, she shivered as the icy touch sent a shudder down her spine, as if his hand had somehow penetrated through her. “Thank you for helping me,” he said.

“You’re flesh and blood, and you’re adorable,” she said, covering her mouth. She didn't know why she told him that. 

A wide smile spread across his face as his hand brushed against her soft skin, a feeling of pure bliss enveloping her. “You have served me well, but now you have to die.”

Kellah’s hands shook as she hastily retreated, her breaths coming in short gasps, desperate to escape from him. “Why?”

“So I can live,” he said, his eyes turning red.

Kellah’s body went cold as a chilling vision consumed her mind—she saw Harry’s lifeless body, Voldemort’s return, and the wizarding world drowning in a never-ending nightmare. She hesitantly edged closer to him, her legs trembling beneath her, until she collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving ground.

He existed in a world of vibrant hues, yet his soul was washed in shades of gray, unable to truly connect with the vibrant tapestry of life around him. “You’re Voldemort,” she said, weak and now lying on the ground. His vividness was growing stronger as time went on. She could touch him now; she was clinging to his leg. 

“Yes, I am, and I am most anxious to meet this Harry Potter.”

That’s when he did the most unusual thing: he kissed her. As Voldemort’s lips met hers, she tasted the bitterness of despair, her heart sinking with the weight of his twisted affection. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t enjoying it. A fire blazed in her eyes as she hungrily leaned in, her lips aggressively crashing onto his, her fierce determination to possess him fueling her every move. Then she clutched at her throat, gasping for air, her lungs struggling to take in the oxygen they so desperately craved. She could feel him sucking away her very essence, her pleas for mercy drowned out by the suffocating darkness that enveloped her. Kellah’s face contorted in fury as she fought against his hold, his grip on her head tightening, his actions invasive.

Gasping for breath, she frantically clawed at her throat, seeking any relief from the suffocating pressure. Now she lay on the ground, her trembling lips turning black, as if consumed by an otherworldly darkness. Ink spilled from her mouth, staining the air with a surreal and haunting presence. Her fingertips trembled, stained with inky darkness, as she could still feel his menacing presence looming over her.

Chapter Text

Kellah’s face lit up with delight as she woke up, feeling a soft, vibrant puddle beneath her, the water swirling around her like a colorful canvas. She couldn't tell because everything was black. All around her was a sea of gray and dullness, the absence of color mirroring the emptiness in her heart. Clad in a flowing white wedding gown, she nervously fiddled with the oversized red ring on her finger, her eyes darting around the room for any signs of danger. As she stood up, her eyes fell upon Harry Potter holding a sword.

 The distance between him and her was so vast that he seemed like a mere speck on the horizon. The more she approached him, the heavier a sensation weighed her legs down. She desperately tried to give chase, but her legs froze in terror, leaving her rooted to the spot. As she sank deeper into the impenetrable goo, she once thought water panic seized her, her gasps for air turning into desperate pleas for escape, her body thrashing against the suffocating substance. She was so close to touching Harry, but he was always out of her reach until finally she brushed his legs. But by then, she had plummeted into the unforgiving depths of the lake, her fury propelling her downward, her splashes of rage breaking the calm surface. The color of the liquid was a deep red, and upon closer inspection, she discovered that there were bodies submerged within it. Like an army of the dead. They reached out, their touch cold and invasive, and she let out a sorrowful wail, releasing her breath in a shuddering exhale. Their furious hands gripped her tightly, forcefully submerging her beneath the waves, their eyes burning from the tainted waters.

Gasping for air, Kellah desperately clawed at the surface, her frantic attempts to escape the blood lake fueled by a primal need for survival. Sinking to the shoreline, tears mixed with blood streamed down her face, her frail body trembling as she coughed up crimson droplets onto the sand. The once pristine white wedding dress had undergone a transformation, turning into a striking shade of red. Faceless figures came forward and ceremoniously adorned her with a diadem on her head. “Eat with us,”one said.

They forcefully escorted her to a table by the shore, the crashing waves drowned out by her furious footsteps and the clattering of the banquet dishes. Occupying the primary position at the table was Kellah, while four individuals with indistinguishable features were seated beside her, forming an enigmatic presence. The sight of Tom Riddle at the head of the table filled her with a desperate sense of urgency, her heart pounding with the need to find a way to stop him. He gestured to the food. “Eat, love, for I wouldn't be here without you.” Tom said petting a snake.

After laying eyes on a green apple, Kellah’s desire for it led her to take a bite, resulting in a painful tooth injury. She stared at the apple in horror, her eyes widening as she noticed four of her teeth scattered on the ground. Clenching her jaw, she desperately gripped a loose tooth and forcefully pulled it out. She stared at the bloody tooth within her grasp.

The people at the table sneered and cackled with malicious glee, their laughter sharp and mocking. As she leaned in for a closer look, she noticed that there were four distinct faces that she could make out at the table. There was a man, his hair a vibrant shade of red, dressed entirely in red and carrying a sword by his side. Another man who had a locket in his possession was twirling it around as he displayed his bald head. The woman who had a prudish look was the one responsible for giving her the diadem. Notably, she was dressed in an elegant shade of blue. There was a woman at the gathering who caught everyone’s attention with her bright yellow clothing. She seemed to have a great time, laughing loudly and sipping from her cup. Eventually, she passed her cup to Kellah. Shouting at the top of her lungs, she commanded, “Drink!”

Carefully, Kellah took hold of the cup and raised it to her lips. With each sip, she couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable metallic flavor and the thickness that coated her mouth. After wiping her mouth, she saw it was stained red with blood. Kellah’s hands trembled as she spat out the foul substance onto her plate, her remaining teeth falling out one by one. As she ran her fingers over her mouth, she realized that there were no teeth, only gums.

“Drink more,” Tom Riddle said, his eyes now burning a fiery red.

Kellah struggled to get up, but the people surrounding her firmly held her down, rendering her immobile. The woman, who she believed was Helga, forcefully grabbed her by the arm and pressed the cold glass against her lips, making her gag. Kellah broke free from their grasp and forcefully pushed them aside. She flew away with a rush of wind, leaving behind a trail of dust. After witnessing her flying, Tom was filled with awe and immediately flew after her in a flurry of excitement. She wasn't fast enough, so he caught her. His lips curled into a menacing smirk as he violently pushed her. Kellah’s body hurtled through the atmosphere, a helpless puppet in his rage-filled hands. 

The act of breathing was impossible for her. The altitude was incredibly high, causing her to feel as if she were floating among the clouds. Suddenly, everything turned upside down, and she plummeted towards the ground. Surprisingly, instead of a solid surface, she was descending towards a beautiful sandy beach. However, as she continued her descent, it became apparent that the beach was actually a barren graveyard. 

There was a book located not too far from where she landed. Gasping for breath, Kellah’s trembling limbs barely held her upright, every inch of her body aching with a desperate longing for rest and respite from her arduous journey. As she picked up the book, she realized it was the diary once again, and to her surprise, it seemed to have a magnetic pull, almost as if it was trying to suck her into its pages. Frustration twisted her features as she let the item slip from her grasp, the sound of it hitting the ground fueling her as she stormed away in a brisk run. Hurtful words were unleashed and directed at her, using derogatory terms such as whore, cunt, bitch, and slut, which aimed to belittle and demean her. These words struck her like projectiles, leaving scars on her body and deeply affecting her. As she fell, the book unraveled its pages, resembling four snakes that coiled around her legs and arms, forcefully pulling her towards it. 

Fueled by desperation, Kellah viciously clawed at the ground, her nails splintering and snapping, determined to reach the diary and unleash her fury upon its contents. The diary seemed to have unleashed a mysterious force, causing her shoe to vanish into what appeared to be a black hole. Filled with gut-wrenching fear, she let out a scream that resonated louder than any sound she had ever produced before. An echoing sound stretched and twisted, its warped resonance reflecting the yearning for relief and escape from an oppressive reality. The book burst into flames, sending scorching heat and billows of dark smoke into the air, causing her heart to race in terror. The world around her dissolved into an eerie blur, like ink spilled on a page, warping reality into a nightmarish haze. Morphing into a disorienting blur of black and white, with a desperate lunge, she plunged into the abyss, hoping to escape the suffocating grip of her reality.

Upon regaining consciousness, Kellah was immediately confronted with a surreal scene: Tom Marvolo Riddle stood before her, his name now read I am Lord Voldemort elegantly etched in the air. Kellah wondered how long it took him to come up with that name combination. Simultaneously, the basilisk’s eyes were rendered useless, causing it to flail aimlessly, and Harry, unfortunately, suffered from injuries. 

Kellah’s blood ran cold as she felt herself being lifted into the air by Voldemort’s grip, her body paralyzed with terror. “You can’t stop me, Harry Potter.” Gripped by intense pain, Harry’s arms were tightly clasped to his body. Fawkes, the majestic phoenix, arrived and gracefully whisked him away with his powerful wings. One fang from the basilisk was missing, leaving a noticeable gap. “Now my reign of terror begins,” said Voldemort.

Kellah was forced to lie on the basilisk and ride it with Tom Riddle up to the girls’ laboratory. Harry stabbed the basilisk with a sword, and Ron was holding onto his ankles. Lockhart was there as well, tumbling down the snake, but he survived. 

Someone had flooded the bathroom again. Actually, it was flooded everywhere. Water was running throughout the entire building. Moaning, Myrtle screamed and went to the u-bin. “All students remain in their dormitory,” boomed McGonagall’s voice.

Kellah was forced to walk through the halls, with the intimidating presence of the great snake trailing closely behind her. With her nails digging into the walls, she exerted all her strength, resulting in visible marks that would serve as a reminder of her distress. 

Deep in the water, near a staircase, Harry confronted Tom, determined to stop him. “I’ll stop you.”

“We both will,” Ron yelled.

“Like you did, my predecessor, I think not. Surely, Dumbledore has been alerted by now. I plan to kill him and everyone in here. The basilisk can still attack,” said Voldemort.

A triumphant smile spread across Harry’s face as he produced a rooster. The basilisk recoiled in pain, its hisses drowned out by Tom's vicious laughter. 

The creature’s attack was swift and brutal, leaving Harry and Ron stunned as they witnessed Ron’s finger being ripped away. The air was filled with the sound of Ron's anguished cries. “Stop!” Harry yelled, and the basilisk did.

“Obey me!” Tom’s voice thundered.

The snake’s head snapped violently from side to side, its fangs bared and venom dripping, as its scarred eyes stared at Harry with intense fury. “No, you can be good. Don’t listen to him!” Harry shouted.

The basilisk’s stare bore into Harry’s soul, its unyielding determination clear, before abruptly turning to Riddle, sinking its fangs into him with a desperate last act of survival. “No, I will kill you, Harry Potter!”

Kellah’s body crashed to the ground with a furious thud, her fists clenched tightly, and her face red with rage. Despite his gash wound, Tom stayed alive and was crawling towards Harry’s body. After spotting the diary, Harry took a knife and stabbed it.

Ron was clasping his injured hand while Harry used Phoenix’s tears from his sleeve to wipe it, miraculously causing Ron's finger to regenerate. It had such a smooth texture, almost like it was made for a baby’s delicate skin.

As she opened her eyes, she found Harry leaning over her, holding a sword tightly gripped in one hand and a basilisk fang in the other. Kellah wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him into a warm embrace. 

“Thank you for saving me, but next time don't get ink in my hair.”

Harry clung to her desperately, his arms grasping at her as if she were his last lifeline in a world on the brink of collapse. “It’s alright.”

“I was afraid to tell you. I didn't mean to do it. Riddle has a way of making you do things. He came out of the diary, and I saw the world going wrong in a vision.”

Harry raised the diary up in his hand and showed Kellah the hole made by the fang. “Riddle’s finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C’mon, Kellah, let’s get out of here.”

Coming to a halt, Kellah directed her attention towards the basilisk, taking a moment to observe it. Even though she had the urge to grab a sample, she understood it was not the moment. Tenderly, she extended her hand and gave it a gentle pet. The memory of it barely lingered in her mind, yet she desperately yearned to purge it from her memory and never have to recall it. The creature quietly retreated into the entrance of the bathroom sink.

Myrtle gawked at them, her mouth hanging open. “Wow, you’re alive,” she said flatly to Harry.

He wiped off his glasses, his expression grim, and said, “There’s no need to sound disappointed,” while removing flecks of blood and slime.

“Oh, well... I had recently been pondering... if you had died, you’d have been welcome to share my toilet,” said Myrtle, blushing silver.

“Why don’t you go after Duncan,” said Kellah.

Myrtle shrieked, “Don’t talk to me about Duncan.”

Harry tugged on Kellah's arm. “Whose Duncan?”

“The only other ghost kid here. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History,” said Kellah. “And he's male.”

“Urgh!” said Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. “Harry! I think Myrtle fancies you! Ginny’s got competition!”

“I’m going to be expelled, and I'll have to go back to my awful parents.”

Harry reached out and took hold of her hand, gently running his finger along its surface. 

“Ron!” Harry yelled, speeding up. “Kellah’s okay! I’ve got her!”

Ron let out a muffled cheer, and as they rounded the next bend, they caught sight of his excited face peering through the corridor, clutching something tightly in his hand.

“Kellah!“You’re alive!” Ron exclaimed, punctuating his words with a celebratory fist bump. “I don't know what I would have done if you and Hermione were petrified or worse. I don’t believe it! What happened? Whose bird is that?”

Fawkes swooped over them. “He’s Dumbledore’s,” said Harry.

“You’ve got a sword,” said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry’s hand.

“I’ll explain later,” Harry said, shooting a quick sideways glance at Kellah. Trying to be strong, she silently cried, her face wet with tears that she desperately tried to wipe away. 

“But —”

“Later,” Harry said brusquely, his tone showing that he wanted the conversation to end quickly. Kellah was relieved, as she didn’t feel ready to recount the harrowing tale of the Chamber of Secrets being unleashed.

“Where’s Lockhart?” Harry asked.

“Back there,” said Ron, still looking puzzled as he walked around a classroom. Lockhart was under a desk, crying. “He’s in a bad way. Come and see.”

“That’s my fault. He tried to cast a memory charm on me, and I used Protego to block it. I didn't know I could do it,” said Kellah.

Ron smiled from ear to ear. “Fucking legend. That’s a six-year spell.”

Through the corridor and into the armory, they followed Fawkes, the majestic phoenix whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow, casting a warm light on their path. As he stumbled along, Gilderoy Lockhart’s humming added a serene touch to the scene.

“You did him good,” said Ron. “The Memory Charm backfired alright. He hasn’t got a clue who he is. Funny thing is, even with no memory, he tried to take us out and run to take credit, but the cave collapsed.”

Kellah winced. “That’s also my fault. I think I set a rune or something to go off if anyone but Harry entered.”

Ron's mouth was wide open. “You could have killed us, woman. Well, it’s okay. Lockhart's memory got worse, and it seems like the chamber is closed now and the heir is gone.”

Good-naturedly, Lockhart peered up at them all with a warm smile. “Hello,” he said. “Odd sort of place, this, isn’t it? Do you live here?” 

“No,” Ron said, arching his eyebrows at Harry.

Fawkes, with his golden glow, was confidently leading the way down the corridor. As they walked briskly behind him, they soon stood outside Professor Dumbledore’s office. As Harry bravely took a step forward, the magnificent phoenix statue vanished, transforming itself into a splendid grand staircase. 

Lockhart had wandered off, but the danger had passed. They were sure someone would help him.

A brief period of silence ensued as Harry, Ron, and Kellah stood in the doorway, completely drenched in muck, slime, and, in Kellah’s case, ink. Following that, a scream broke the silence.

“Kellah!” It was Mrs. Onai-Dellarose, who had been sitting stone-faced in front of the fire. After quickly rising from her chair, she was closely followed by Mr. Onai-Dellarose. Kellah’s mind raced, searching for an escape route, fearing the intense wrath they would unleash upon her. Timidly, she clutched onto her father’s embrace, seeking security in his arms, as if her very life depended on it. Which it just might. Her body recoiled from the harsh slap her mother gave Kellah. Her mind racing to find an escape from the suffocating grip of her mother’s abuse. 

“You should have perished in that chamber rather than continue at this school,” said Mrs. Onai Dellarose.

Kellah couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and, holding her face in her hands, she burst into tears right in front of her mother. “I’m sorry, mum.”

Standing next to the mantelpiece, Professor Dumbledore had a severe expression on his face, while Professor McGonagall, who was clutching her chest and taking deep breaths, stood beside him. Fawkes, with a swift whoosh, flew past Harry’s ear and gracefully perched on Dumbledore’s shoulder.

“I think we’d all like to know how Kellah was saved,” Professor McGonagall snapped, her voice laced with a sharp edge of anger, her gaze piercing through the room.

“If you call that saving," said Mrs. Onai-Dellarose.

At that moment, Harry shared with them every detail. For nearly a quarter of an hour, he spoke into the eerie silence. He told them about hearing the disembodied voice and how Hermione had finally realized he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes. How he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died. How he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom...

“That’s quite impressive,” Professor McGonagall interjected as he paused, “so you found the entrance, disregarding many school rules in the process. But I’m curious, Potter, how did you all make it out alive?”

With his voice growing hoarse from all this talking, Harry shared the story of Fawkes’s timely arrival and the unexpected gift of the sword from the Sorting Hat. But then he faltered. He had been careful not to bring up Riddle’s diary or Kellah so far. 

She pressed her head against her father’s shoulder, her body trembling as silent tears streamed down her cheeks, dreading what might come next. What if they expelled her? Kellah was in a panic. Riddle’s diary didn’t work anymore. How could they prove it was he who’d made her do it all?

Instinctively, Kellah looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight dancing off his half-moon spectacles. “What I find intriguing,” said Dumbledore gently, “is how Lord Voldemort enchanted Kellah, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania.”

Kellah had the impression that she saw Ron’s pet rat, Scabbers, peeking out from his owner’s pocket.

Relief—warm, sweeping, glorious relief – swept over Kellah. “W-what’s that?” said Mr. Onai Dellarose in a stunned voice. “Some Lord Voldemort, who was a dark wizard, enchanted my baby girl? En-enchant Kellah?

“It was this diary,” said Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. “Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen.”

As he held the diary in his hands, Dumbledore’s long, crooked nose loomed over the burnt and soggy pages, and his keen gaze focused intently on them. As Kellah winced, she couldn’t bring herself to even glance at it. 

“Brilliant,” he said softly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen.” He turned around to the Dellarose family, who were looking utterly bewildered.

“Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school, traveled far and wide, sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, and underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”

“But, Kellah,” said Mrs. Onai-Dellarose. “What’s our Kellah got to do with — with — him? And I don't care who this Lord Voldemort is. The only Lord I know is my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

“His d-diary,” Kellah sobbed. “I’ve b-been writing in it, and he’s been w-writing back all year. I-I started in the summer w-when you locked me in my r-room before school.”

“Maybe if you treated her better, she wouldn't have been possessed," said Harry.

Kellah’s mum walked up to Harry. “And who are you, child?”

“Her friend,” said Harry.

Ron stepped next to Harry. “So am I.”

“Miss Onai Dellarose should go up to the hospital wing right away,” Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. “This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He strode over to the door and opened it. “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up,” he added, twinkling kindly down at her. “You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice — I daresay the basilisk’s victims will wake up any moment.”

“So Hermione’s okay!” said Ron brightly.

“There has been no lasting harm done, Kellah,” said Dumbledore.

“No need for that. We are leaving,” said Mrs. Onai-Dellarose. “Kellah, I will see you when you get home over the summer.”

Her mother’s departure was accompanied by loud door slamming, leaving Kellah feeling abandoned. Her father hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on her, before he too turned and departed. McGonagall gave Kellah a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, her touch conveying a deep sense of sadness. 

She followed her parents, but they dashed ahead, leaving her behind and struggling to find her way. 

The thought of going to the hospital wing crossed Kellah’s mind. Instead, her journey ended on the fifth floor of the astronomy tower. She passed through a ceiling of star constellations, walls of star tapestries, and several, and I do mean several, staircases.

There was a spinning globe in the open area where telescopes were set onto balconies for viewing purposes. It was so high up that you could see the Quidditch Pitch.

Kellah situated herself near the biggest one, but the sight of the railing caught her attention, and she instinctively made her way to the other side, finding a comfortable spot to sit. As she dangled her foot, her shoe slipped off and tumbled to the ground. She watched in fascination as it slowly descended to the bottom. It was a treacherous descent that could prove fatal for both Muggles and wizards alike.

As she teetered on the edge, someone hiding from the storage space below urgently took a seat beside her on the ledge, their presence offering a glimmer of hope in her darkest moment. It was Draco.

“What are you doing here? Come to push me,” she said.

“I come here to be alone with my thoughts away from the other Slytherins. It's like an echo chamber living down there in the dungeons. What about you?” he said.

“Looking at the scenery,” she murmured, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

“You’re a bad liar,” he said, now standing and leaning into her.

“No, I'm a good one fooled you.” She said, her hands gripping the railing.

With a trembling touch, he leaned his head into hers, his lips meeting hers in a bittersweet kiss that carried the weight of all the unspoken heartache between them. A tear welled up in her eye as her foot lost traction, the weight of her sorrows threatening to pull her down. The absence of his touch left her desperate, clinging to a fleeting sense of connection. As she realized she was suspended in mid-air, a wave of desperation crashed over her, her frantic attempts to hold on to something, anything, intensifying as she plummeted downward. Draco’s grip on her arm tightened as he forcefully yanked her towards the edge, her heart pounding in her chest with the fear of what awaited her below. 

When they kissed for a moment, she had flown. Something she had only seen Voldemort do. Or done herself under his control. But she was tired of thinking of him.

Their breath came in ragged gasps as they stared up at the vast expanse of stars, their bodies tense with the anticipation of danger lurking in the shadows of someone catching them up here alone together. She marveled at the sheer beauty of it all, her heart swelling with delight, grateful to be alive after narrowly escaping a tragic mistake. They stared at each other then laughed. It was the most she had laughed all year and it was with him.

Desperate for comfort, she leaned her head into him, seeking solace from the turmoil that consumed her. “This year has been hard. I hurt a lot of people. I don't deserve everyone’s kindness,” she sobbed.

“Of course you do, and that’s coming from me. Now be happy or I’ll make you,” he said, wiping her tears.

“How?” 

He didn't answer. Tearfully, she felt his warm lips meet hers under the moonlit stars, knowing it was their final kiss before parting ways. Grinning ear to ear, he eagerly offered his hand, pulling her up. “Come on, let’s pretend to hate each other and celebrate the chamber being closed.”

“How did you know that just happened?" she asked.

“The portraits like to talk, and everyone is in the Great Hall celebrating.”

“But first, you're mine, and I'm yours. You’re my girlfriend.”

Kellah placed a hand on her hip. “Don't I have a say?”

“Of course not,” Malfoy spat, his hand thrusting forward aggressively. She took it. Their lips locked in a passionate embrace, their tongues danced playfully, and a euphoric rush of happiness surged through her veins. Her first tongue kiss was with Draco Malfoy, and earlier this year she had her first lip kiss with him as well.

As they made their way back to the ground floor, they continued to hold hands, not letting go even for a moment. However, once they reached their destination, they abruptly released their grip and acted as if they were complete strangers. 

Kellah, who had attended many Hogwarts feasts in the past, was about to experience one unlike any other. All of the attendees were dressed in their comfortable pajamas, and the festive celebration continued throughout the entire night. It was unclear to Kellah which moment stood out the most: Hermione’s exhilarating sprint towards Harry, accompanied by her ecstatic shout of “You solved it!” Hermione embraced both Harry and Kellah in a warm hug. There was a moment of hesitation for her as she debated whether or not to hug Ron. However, before she could decide, Kellah intervened by swiftly kicking Hermione in the back of the legs. As a result, Ron could catch her just in time, leading to a tender embrace between the two. In the aftermath, both of them blushed awkwardly.

Ernie, who was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, quickly made his way over to Harry and eagerly extended his hand to shake Harry's expressing endless apologies for the previous suspicion. Precisely at half-past three, Hagrid entered and, with great strength, hugged Harry and Ron on their shoulders, causing them to collide with their plates of trifle. The House Cup was won by Gryffindor for the first time ever, thanks to Harry and Ron earning four hundred points. 

Furthermore, Professor McGonagall pleasantly surprised everyone by announcing that the exams had been canceled, which was a delightful treat for the entire school. Hermione’s response to this unexpected news was a heartfelt “Oh, no!”

Dumbledore sadly informed everyone that Professor Lockhart would not be returning next year. The reason for this was that Lockhart had to leave in order to regain his lost memory. Many of the teachers enthusiastically joined in the cheering that warmly greeted this exciting news. Professor Sinistra cheered the loudest.

“What a shame,” Ron commented as he reached over and helped himself to a delicious jam doughnut. 

Neville was seen walking around, his missing pinky causing concern, as Madam Pomfrey urgently attempted to set it right just before the night's end. Neville had entered a pinky swear with Peeves who had just been revived. Filch was having a fit. Peeves celebrated more by juggling Sir Nicholas newly decapitated head by juggling it. Nick was so happy to be headless he didnt wven care.The last moment of the night was Kellah having her shoe thrown at her by Draco. "For you Cinderella." She wondered how he knew that story as she rubbed her sore head.

It was when they were nearly at King’s Cross that Harry had a sudden recollection. “Hey Ginny, spill it! What’s Percy up to that he’s trying to hush up?”

“Oh, that,” said Ginny, giggling. "You won’t believe it, but Percy’s actually in a relationship with a girl.” Fred dropped a stack of books on George’s head.

“What?”

“Guess who it is? Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect,” Ginny said. “He was sending messages to her all summer long. They’ve been meeting up in secret all over the school. I walked in on them snogging in an empty classroom one day.”

“I thought he was dating the Gryffindor Prefect Ema Sato,” said Kellah.

“Well, he may have been dating both of them or dumped Ema while she was petrified. Don’t say anything,” said Ginny.

“We would never,” said Fred, who was looking like his birthday had come early. 

“Definitely not. He’s our brother,” said George, sniggering. Behind their backs, Kellah noticed their fingers were crossed.

The Hogwarts Express, after gradually slowing down, eventually ceased its motion. Turning to Ron, Hermione, and Kellah, Harry reached for his quill and a scrap of parchment, scribbling something down.

“Here’s the telephone number,” he said to Ron, writing it twice, tearing the paper, and handing it over. “Don’t worry, I taught your dad how to use a phone last summer. The line should be good to go. Give me a ring at the Dursleys’, alright? I can’t stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to…”

“I’m sure your aunt and uncle will be proud,” said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. “Wait ‘til they hear what you did this year!”

“Proud?” said Harry. “Are you mental? All those times I could’ve died, and I didn’t? They’ll be in a right state...”

“So a bit like my parents,” Kellah said.

“Just remember to call, okay? I can't bear it without you three,” said Harry.

“We feel the same,” said Kellah.

As they walked to the gateway to the Muggle world, Draco gave her a wink.