Helen Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

A/N: Well, that was exciting! Up next, life coaching a know-it-all, game one of the quidditch season, and a nap? Let's see what other questions we can ask, what kind of answers we will find, and what our characters will get up to!

Chapter 5
Bed-knobs, Broomsticks, and Bludgers

Helen rolled over and found herself greeted by the sight of clear blue skies. With a promising day ahead of her she didn’t mind rolling out of bed and heading to take a shower. The bathroom in the girl’s dorm was always busy in the mornings, but Helen had been woken early enough that she didn’t have to wait in any lines. She quickly took care of her morning needs then changed into a pair of jeans and a tee. She threw on a jacket and headed down to the great hall alone.

Schedules at Hogwarts were a bit more lax on the weekends and meals were served over a longer period than during the week. There were several older students and a few professors when she arrived but most of the school was still asleep. She settled down and grabbed some fried eggs, bacon, sausages, and was just finishing adding cream to her coffee when Hermione settled next to her.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

Helen took a sip of the hot coffee and sighed, “Missing dad’s coffee, but besides that I’m ready.”

“You’ve got this. Just don’t take too long please, we have the essay for Professor Snape to finish.”

Helen rolled her eyes, “It’ll take as long as it takes. This is classic dad though, give us a huge essay right before a quidditch match. I’ll bet he assigned all the Gryffs essays to keep us off balance. Sneaky git.”

Hermione giggled, “Helen, he isn’t some super villain from a movie. I’m sure it was on his syllabus.”

“It was, twelve inches, like I said; he’s a git.”

“Well, he’s your dad. But I’ve seen you do twice that much in an evening.” She grabbed some toast, “What are your plans over Christmas?”

“Not a clue yet. Dad may have to stay here so I may just spend the break in his quarters relaxing. I assume you are still heading home.”

“I am, my parents are rather insistent.”

“Well, they do get that way when they miss their kids. But you could use the break. You work too hard Hermione. We have to try to fix that. Hermione relaxing, it’s a goal of mine.”

She rolled her eyes, “I relax plenty. Between our workouts and classes with the Headmaster I have plenty of downtime.”

“That isn’t downtime. I’m talking about a party, or playing games, maybe even joining a club…do we have clubs?”

“A few, I’m honestly not really sure. I know we have the gobstone club, quidditch… that may be it. We’ll have to check I guess.”

“Or start some. At any rate, you need some downtime. I can’t have my best friend losing her mind.”

“I’m not going to lose my mind from overworking myself. Although I may end up cracking a bit under the pressure once in a while. I guess you kind of have a point, but what about you?”

“Well,” she lamented, “if you aren’t going to relax with me there isn’t much point of me relaxing, now is there. It's hard to relax on your own with anything other than a good book.”

“Okay, good point. So we go and find out about clubs and failing that we start some of our own…maybe a book club.”

“That’s the spirit. Now,” she looked at the rest of the team leaving, “I’ve got to go, its game time.”

Oliver had gone on for ages about “the game plan”, information they had covered in their practices, and by the time they stood up to walk out onto the pitch Helen was sure they were all too befuddled to play. Their first game was against Slytherin and having their brains numbed by Wood didn’t seem like the best part of the plan but that wasn’t going to stop them. As soon as they left the locker room the team came back to life as the crowd cheered and the crisp wind brought them back. The captains shook hands and with the whistle the game was on.

Helen got herself high in the air and started her long slow circle of the field, watching for the snitch but also watching the game. Lee Jordan’s voice echoed through the pit with the occasional admonishment from McGonagall but Helen always got her best thinking done on a broom. She had questions, questions she didn’t have anyone she could ask. Just the tip of her iceberg was this situation with Dumbledore and Voldemort. Her dad had always taught her to work with as complete a picture as she could form and right now she was working with a few empty lines that lacked any form. She knew that Voldemort had killed her parents, personally, which seemed like a pretty big deal. For the Dark Lord himself to go out and kill someone seemed like a fairly strange errand for him. He had followers and supporters so why didn’t he just send someone else? The only answer to that was it was something he wanted to do personally. If he wanted her parents dead that bad, then there was a reason beyond their continued escapes from him. There was also the fact that they weren’t the targets. She was only a few months old so what kind of threat could she have been to the ‘greatest dark wizard’? The short answer was absolutely none. The long answer was that he probably could have subjugated the wizarding world long before she came of age to do anything about him and even then she wouldn’t have been a real threat. Growing up in a world ruled by Voldemort didn’t sound like the type of place that would lend itself toward people learning to fight him. That meant there was either an omen in the stars, a prophecy, or some other form of divination. She wasn’t sure why megalomaniacs always believed in the powers of fortune telling, but they seemed to hear some horrid poem about the future and fly into a tizzy.

The score was mounting and so were the fouls. The more the chasers scored the rougher the Slytherin’s played. Helen had to dodge a few bludgers knocked her way but for the most part she was left alone. Her position high above the field made her all but forgotten. They probably didn’t even see her as a threat circling this way. She watched Katie Bell score and bring the score up to sixty to ten, a reasonable lead forming for the Gryffindor’s. A bludger rocketed toward Wood and took him off his broom and Helen knew the game was about to take on a whole new dynamic.

Then there was another problem, boys. She could hear Lavender and Parvati whispering at night about which boy was cutest and all that other stuff. Even Hermione showed a passing interest in guys and the talk surrounding them and Nina blushed whenever a boy paid her the least bit of attention. It wasn’t that she didn’t find anyone interesting in that way, it just wasn’t boys. She had to admit that her dad was woefully inept when it came to relationships of any kind, he still carried a torch for her mother, and he knew he didn’t have a chance with her. Helen figured it was the marriage to her father that gave that one away, Severus was a hopeless romantic in certain respects. The sad part was that now he didn’t date. It was as if he was keeping his sanctity for the memory of Lily. She wasn’t overly worried about it, she was only eleven, but she was also realizing that she didn’t have anyone to talk to about how she was feeling and what she was thinking.

With Wood out of action their lead started to dissolve and Helen started to concentrate harder on finding the snitch. She brought her broom closer to the ground to give her an easier time seeing details on the ground and kicked up her speed to circle faster. She was passing the Slytherin stands when her broom gave a jerk, her grip tightened and her legs locked around the broom just in case. She also decided to drop her altitude but as she tried to guide the broom down it gave a violent jerk and started to climb. It seemed that the more control she tried to exert over the broom the more it fought back. A particularly violent jerk as she tried to turn the broom around nearly unseated her so she finally loosened her grip and let the broom climb. At this point there was little more she could do than move with the broom and let the ride happen.

“There’s something wrong,” Hermione said to Nina. “Helen doesn’t fly like that, it’s to jerky.”

“Do you think she’s in trouble?”

“I know she’s in trouble. I’m going to go talk to her dad, run up to the school and get Dumbledore. Hopefully it’ll be over before he gets here, but better safe than sorry.”

Hermione ran through the stands to the Slytherin section and the seated teachers and guests. She made her way up the stairs toward the seats but when she entered she froze. Severus was muttering rapidly, his eyes locked on Helen in concentration, keeping a spell going with his intense gaze. She would think he was the cause of Helen’s broom malfunction, but she couldn’t see him trying to kill his daughter. Hermione knew he would have no trouble hearing her while he cast though so she pushed her way to him, getting several disgruntled shouts as she tried to get behind him to whisper in his ear. She was still watching the broom trying to shake Helen off when it suddenly stabilized and Helen shot off down toward the pitch.

Helen felt the broom become responsive again and could see the walnut sized ball just behind the Slytherin goals. The Slytherin seeker had a head start on her, but she had the faster broom. She leaned into the handle and streamlined her body along it. Her speed mounted as the wind whipped her long red hair behind her. The crowd was going wild watching the two seekers racing toward their goal. Helen was thirty yards behind and closing rapidly, then she was twenty yards back slipping toward the Slytherin seeker’s right side, then ten the ground close and blurring under her. They were side by side, the other seeker trying to knock her off course, she stayed true and started to pull ahead when the snitch dove. They both followed side by side the final distance to the ground melting away faster than was probably safe. It was now a game of chicken, whoever pulled up first lost the game, and the snitch. She could see the Slytherin seeker glancing at her and she knew she had him. He yanked up and leveled off well early of the ground and Helen continued to dive until she pulled out with her toes scraping the grass. She reached out to grab it when a bludger slammed into her wrist, pain exploded up her arm clear to her shoulder. She hooked her ankles around the shaft and released her hold with her other hand. She could feel the air disruption from the snitch’s wings on her fingertips. Finally her palm connected with it and she closed her fingers around the ball. She thrust her hand into the air and used her legs to bring the broom to a stop.

Once she had her feet on the ground she pulled her wand out and conjured splints and some ribbons to tie them with. Using her wand she floated it all into place and tied them in together. She was pretty sure it was broken and could see no reason to put herself through the pain of it being jostled the whole way to the infirmary. Her theory was proven as Hermione bounded up to her and threw herself at Helen. She managed to catch her one armed and enjoy the celebration but the next person to get her attention was her dad tugging at her sleeve and running his wand over the wrist that was throbbing.

“Hospital wing, now.”

“Hello to you to Professor, I’m fine thanks. But I would be happy to head to the hospital wing.”

Severus snorted, “Cheeky little devil. Get moving, before you lose some of those points.”

She rolled her eyes but started toward the path to the school, “Oh, dad, sorry about Slytherin losing…oh wait, no I’m not.”

She left the field laughing to her Dad’s scowl. She didn’t want to gloat, but it felt good to deflate her dad’s ego a bit. But he was right as usual, she needed some time under Poppy’s care. Her wrist was really starting to throb.

It had only taken a few minutes to get her wrist sorted but Madam Pomfrey had wanted her to wear a brace for a few days just to be sure it was healed properly and to give the delicate tendons and structures of the wrist a chance to rest and mend. She had followed the rules and kept the brace on until she was cleared by the school nurse and then it was back to her normal routine. She was thrilled to have the brace off since it had impeded her wand work and made writing for classes hell.

It was a Saturday and the weather outside was cold and rainy so she and Hermione were down in the dungeon running laps. The normally cold dungeon room was being warmed by six fireplaces, two on either long wall and two on the short walls, as well as two big braziers in the center. They were both sweating as they started their fifth lap around the room. Hermione would do five more for an even ten, but Helen was going to push an extra ten out of it. Physical strength seemed to help her magics flow so she had started to pick up her workouts.

Between transfiguring supplies, the liberal use of conjuration, and a whole lot of imagination they had a decent gym set up down here. Helen was wishing there was a pool, but they didn’t have the knowhow to excavate and build a swimming pool…at least not yet. Now that Slytherin’s library was cleared of the darker books within Helen was making full use of the quiet. It lacked some of the more interesting reference works from the modern era, but Dumbledore seemed to think that them having some space to expand their studies was a good idea. At least she thought it was Dumbledore. It was always possible that her dad was moving some of his rather substantial library here. Of course, most of his books he had two copies of. People loved to buy him books for Christmas and they didn’t tend to coordinate so he often ended up with multiple copies of whatever book was the current hot read for a potions master.

She put her hands on her knees and bent forward breathing deeply to catch her breathe. Hermione passed her a water bottle and Helen drained it quickly. She sat next to her friend and looked over what they were putting together down here and wondered how long they could keep it a secret.

“The Hogwarts health club is coming along and I think I almost have the excavation spell figured out.”

Hermione nodded, “Yea, I’m working on tiling still. We could just ask Professor Snape or Dumbledore to do it, I’m sure they would.”

“That’s a thought, we can ask him tonight. We have another class. Have you ever noticed that Dumbledore is pretty spry for a hundred and fifty?”

“He is rather fit. Is that why you’re pushing harder?”

Helen nodded, “It takes a lot of energy to do the work we are doing. We get fitter and our energy level increases. Besides, we’re looking better every day.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hermione lamented. “I’ve still got my little problem.”

Helen looked at her confused, “Which problem is that?”

“Come on, you can see my teeth as well as everyone else. I know what people say about me. Hermione is brainy, bossy, and buck toothed. I’ve hear it all,” she said bitterly.

“You know, I grew up with Severus Snape for a dad. I learned really quickly that cover models aren’t the ideal of beauty.” She pulled out a picture of her and Severus on the beach, “He’s thin, muscled, sallow as all hell, with that prominent beak of his, and he really needs orthodontia. But he’s beautiful.”

Hermione was looking closely at the picture. They were on a white sand beach, Severus in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a floppy hat with a basket in hand. Helen was behind him, a huge grin lighting her face, her skin was tanned a golden caramel and she was wearing a yellow two piece. They both looked happy, but there was a reserved nature to Severus’s joy.

“He went through hell in school. Between his appearance, his draw to the darker parts of magic, and being poor. My dad, my birth dad, he was kind of a jerk. He came from a family with money and some influence and his best friend came from wizarding royalty basically. It took a long time for all of them to learn to overcome their childhood stupidity.”

“What happen to your dad’s best friend? Your birth dad.”

“Azkaban, the wizarding prison. Dad won’t tell me the whole story, but he was sent away for betraying my parents to Voldemort.”

She moved over to one of the arm machines and set the weight. Severus hadn’t talked much about her godfather, he seemed to both like and hate the man in equal parts. Helen shook her head and smiled.

“You do realize that you’re quite pretty, right?”

Hermione stopped her stretching to look at Helen, “Who?”

“You, dummy. You’re smart, pretty, and you’ve got your head put on right. Stop listening to idiots, they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about.”

“Why do you always say stuff like that”

“Stuff like what?”

Hermione stopped stretching and looked at her feet uncomfortably, “That I’m pretty and stuff.”

Helen froze, her eyes locked on Hermione in confusion, “Don’t you see it?”

Helen was honestly confused. How bad had Hermione’s school life been before Hogwarts, or neighborhood kids for that matter. Helen had grown up with Severus, she saw Draco from time to time, and of course the aunts and uncles that came with being a child of Hogwarts. But no one had ever made fun of her, Severus needled her from time to time, but there had never been anyone who outright mocked her. She finally stood and went to sit next to Hermione.

“Listen, I don’t know what those jerks you grew up with put you through, and I am not sure I want to know. There is that whole thing about underage use of magic to worry about after all. The thing is I’m not lying to you. You’re pretty much one of the smartest people I know, and I grew up with Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, so I know smart when I see it. To fit in with those two you have to be wicked clever as well, you fit the bill. And you are pretty, no matter what anyone says, so stop selling yourself short. You are confident enough in everything else, its time you start seeing this to. Besides, have you seen the definition you’ve developed?”

Hermione jumped to her feet smiling and then pulled Helen to her feet, “Let's get back to it, our workout isn’t going to do itself.”

Helen reset the weights on the arm machine, “You know, if you are really that bother, a simple curse will make them worse. Then you can just let Madam Pomfrey adjust them for you.”

“I couldn’t do that…could I?”

Helen smiled when Hermione entered the common room, her teeth adjusted and a grin on her face. Hermione settled into the other chair, their claimed space in the common room, and looked at Helen expectantly. She could torment her, but that didn’t seem like the friendly thing to do. But she did rather like the thought.

“Hello Hermione, you seem happy.”

Hermione’s grin grew, “What do you think?”

Helen shrugged, “It's your uniform, Hermione. I don’t think I can really call it a cute outfit. We all have one. Is there something else you had in mind?”

Hermione waved at her mouth and talked with her jaw clenched, “Mah teeh!”

Helen laughed, “You’re beautiful Hermione, always were. But your smile is lovely.”

“Madam Pomphrey must have thought I was crazy staring in the mirror and grinning so much.”

“She may have thought you were a little daft. Now, I had something planned for tonight, a promise to keep. Interested in coming along?”

“You waited here for me?”

Helen shrugged, “After cursing you I kind of figured that I should wait around. But I was quite serious. I have a promise to keep. So, interested in finding out more about the other side of Hogwarts?”

Hermione nodded so the two made their way down to the second floor. Professor Vector’s apartment was on the fourth floor of the residential wing and she answered the door as soon as Helen knocked. The look of pure relief on her face was quickly replaced by exasperation as Jack flung himself into Helen’s arms.

“I swear, he is trying to drive me mad. He won’t let me grade papers, he is refusing to do his lessons, and now that he’s had his bath it was all I could do to get him to put his pajamas on. He wants to be Tarzan, bloody Tarzan!”

Helen couldn’t help but laugh, “Never fear, Professor, I am here to take over. I even brought an assistant. Go collect your husband and have a good time. I’ll get this little guy put to sleep.”

“You’re an angel Helen. Now, don’t let him get up to too many shenanigans. He can stay up another hour, and that is it. Miss Granger, I will issue a pass for you as well when I return. You girls have a good night. I will see you when I get back.”

As soon as the door closed Helen grinned at Jack, “Okay, Sprout, what do you want to do tonight?”

“I want a story!”

 “Okay Sprout, get ready for bed first and I will tell you a story.”

Jack ran off for his bedroom leaving Helen smiling and shaking her head, “Every time I watch him he wants the same thing, a story and then a hot chocolate. Why don’t you take care of that. Through that door is Professor Vector’s kitchen. The jar with the brussels sprouts has the cocoa mix in it, she had to hide it from him or he will eat it with a spoon.”

Hermione giggled, “I used to do the same. Is there a special mug?”

“You’ve done this before,” Helen announced. “But yes, his father got him a Cookie Monster mug. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

When Helen entered Jack’s room she could smell the mint of toothpaste and there was a small glob of white at the corner of his mouth. She went into his bathroom and grabbed a wash cloth and came back in, “You forgot something…and the washcloth monster is HUGNRY!”

Jack squealed in delight as Helen washed his face. She made growling sounds and the sound of the ‘monster’ eating while she scrubbed his face clean. Once he was clean she returned the washcloth to his bathroom and came to settle on the bed. She blew out all but one candle and tapped her wand against her thigh.

“So my prince, what shall it be this time? Perhaps a story about a princess, or maybe a trek through the wilds of the Forbidden Forest?”

Jack gave her a dirty look, “You know!”

Helen sighed, “Very well my prince.”

She closed her eyes and concentrated, she had played with so many elements at this point what was light? The light in the room gathered from the candle and began to dance across the walls. As she told the stories the lights and shadows painted the scene for her charge.”

“It was the dawning of the third age of mankind, ten years after the Earth-Minbari war. The Babylon Project was a dream given form. Its goal: to prevent another war, by creating a place where humans and aliens could work out their differences peacefully.”

“So Drall climbed into the great machine and became one with it. The alien promised Ambassador Delenn to watch over him until his final moments. Drall used the great machine to protect the station and all the people on board…” Helen took a deep breath and released the light, “And my little prince is finally asleep. I thought I might have to move on to episode eleven.”

“What were you telling him?”

She closed the door gently and settled on the sofa, “It's an American sci-fi series, Babylon 5. I caught a few episodes while dad and I were in San Francisco, I rather liked it. I ended up buying the box set. Jack loves it though.”

“How did you do that with the light?”

Helen sighed, “Light is just an element. Not the way science thinks of them, but magically speaking it is. I practiced and this was the result.”

“Okay, I am not letting you out of my sight from now on. You’ve been sneaking out, haven’t you?”

“Not here, we can have that conversation when we return to our own area of the school.”

They worked on their homework and chatted until Professor Vector and her husband returned. Once they had their pass they made their way back to Gryffindor. She had a need for a little normality and Jack was a part of her baseline. She slipped into bed and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Dumbledore led them up to the astronomy tower through the darkened hallways of the school. It was a clear crisp night, the air with the bite of late November to it, the type of night that foretold winter coming. Their breath fogged as they exhaled into the night air and they settled down on three armchairs Dumbledore conjured. The night sky was a riot of stars, more than anyone could count in a lifetime.

“We are going to slow things down tonight. I didn’t want to give you too much to do over the Christmas break and this will be our last chance to see each other before then. Tonight I am going to teach you how to tell the difference between darkness and light. After the library I think this is going to be a more important lesson than I originally thought.”

Helen held her hand up imperiously, “Just stop. Just… Uncle Albus, enough is enough. You are teaching us all this stuff for a reason, because Voldemort will be back at some point. But you aren’t arming me with the things I need to know, I need to know about Tom Riddle. Why did he target my parents, why did he want to kill me, and why did he fail?”

“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you, and I am not going to start now.”

“So you are just going to not answer me? After all these years and all the things we have been through… we’re supposed to be family.”

“One has nothing to do with the other, Helen. Severus has forbidden it, so I shall not tell you, yet.”

Helen fumed but kept her tone calm, “You’re teaching us to fight, properly fight. In our first year here we are already learning things that most grown wizards don’t learn.”

“It wasn’t always that way,” Dumbledore explained. “When I first started teaching here we began these lessons in first year. But war and low enrollment has dwindled what we can teach. There was a time when Hogwarts delved into all branches of magic, when I was a student… well, that was some time ago. But when I was a student we had twenty more classes to choose from for our OWLs and NEWTs. But the rise of Grindwald drew dark wizards to start rising up, and we started to lose professors to fight them. But Voldemort was worse.”

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “He killed whole families, decimated the teaching staff, and turned many to the dark arts. The sad part of it all is that our enrollment wouldn’t be down this badly if it wasn’t for fear. Many have gone into hiding and the muggleborns are not coming to Hogwarts when they find out about our troubles. We are finally seeing some wizarding families coming out of hiding and more muggleborns are starting to enroll in classes. By the time you leave Hogwarts we should be approaching our former enrollment.”

“Well,” Helen snarked, “you just managed to avoid discussing all of my concerns while discussing part of the topic. That’s impressive. I grew up with the head of Slytherin, I know how to talk out of all three corners of my mouth.”

Dumbledore gave her a shrewd look, “Severus really has done a marvelous job raising you. Fine, chips on the table then. Yes, I believe Voldemort will be back and I believe you will be a target, his primary target. I won’t tell you why yet, and that is final. Teaching you to fight him and his followers before you even graduate will require us to start now and to keep going till the day you leave. We have a lot of work to do to get you ready.”

“At least you were finally open about something. I will be talking to dad about this though. I have a right to know why the hell he came to my house that night. Now, I have another question for you Professor.” She looked around the tower, “Why are we up here turning blue?”

“I didn’t want to bring certain items into the castle and felt the tower was the best place.” He waved toward a table, “Shall we begin?”

The table was covered in jewelry, household items, clothing, and books. For the next two hours they learned spells, learned how to read vibrations, learned how to feel energy, and learned to feel the subtle differences between light and dark. That was surprising to Helen even with her dad teaching her as soon as she started to show signs of a magical birth. But the difference between light and dark magic was so subtle that it was often unnoticeable.  The line between some of these items was so blurred that she and Hermione had been unable to tell the difference. Then some had been so obvious that the most cursory inspection revealed its nature.

Dumbledore had shown them spells to test the nature of the item, the purpose of the item, and even to safely handle the item. But Helen was shocked to find that handling some of the items made her feel physically ill. Her head would begin to ache and her stomach would turn over on itself. One ring in particular had been so bad she had actually thrown up from the feeling and pain.

“Your reaction is actually not that surprising. That night you were touched by some very dark magic and some very light magic at the same time. Your nature leans towards the light and as such that darkness feels unnatural. However,” Dumbledore gave her a long look, “not all dark magic will have that effect as you’ve discovered.”

Dumbledore placed a book on the table, “This is one of the books from Slytherin’s library and I believe it is the one that caused you both a problem. You can hear the souls inside whispering and calling out to you. Items like this, made of dark magic and murder, will always be the hardest for you to deal with. They use innocent souls in their creation and that innocence is what try’s to lure you in. We will talk more about this later. Now I want you two to return to your dorm and get some rest.”

Hermione glanced at Helen as they made their way back to Gryffindor tower, “Why does it feel like he is hinting at things rather than just telling you them?”

“Standard Dumbledore tactics, everything is a learning experience. He really is a different sort, Uncle Albus.”

“You’re angry, aren’t you?”

“Honestly, yea. They are holding so much back from me and something tells me its more dangerous not knowing than having all the facts.” She pushed open a door to one of the unused classrooms and settled in a seat, “I don’t want to go back up to Gryffindor just yet.”

Hermione sat next to her, “Are you okay?”

“No Hermione, I’m not. They don’t get it. I have nightmares of high pitched laughter and flashes of green light… of my mother’s blank eyes staring at me. I was a year old and I watched death rush at me.”

“That explains why you’re always up when I get out of bed. I was wondering how you always beat every day. I get up at five in the morning and I always find you sitting in the window dressed and ready to go for our runs.”

Helen looked at her feet rather than Hermione, “I can’t go back to sleep after that dream. It never fails, my eyes fly open and I can’t close them again.”

Helen threw herself into one of the chairs, “They think I don’t see the life they have been preparing me for. Did you know that dad started teaching me to use a wand at three? As soon as my magic manifested. Simple spells at first then before I knew it he was teaching me defensive magic. I could cast a shield charm by seven, a blasting hex by eight. He has taught me how to find edible plants the world over, how to hunt, fish, and track. Now Albus is teaching us to wield magic like adults dream of. They don’t think I am anything but their little student. Joke is on them, dad taught me to think things through, but he also taught me to spy.”

She set a book on the desk between them, brown leather and embossed with a phoenix, “Dumbledore isn’t as young as he used to be and he has a bad tendency of writing things down and storing memories for later review. There’s a prophecy. He didn’t write down the details, but he put enough down for me to make a few guesses. Something about my birth was enough of a trigger to get Voldemort to move. That night he came for me because of some mystical bull and he killed my parents. But something went wrong. My mom’s sacrifice was enough protection to save me and strip him of his powers. I think he’s been in hiding since then, trying to find a way to restore himself.”

Hermione shook her head, “Divination isn’t an exact art. I don’t understand why anyone would follow such tripe let alone allow it to dictate their actions.”

“Don’t sell divination short, Hermione. There are some real seers out there. The problem with a lot of prophecy is finding the meaning behind the words and self-fulfilling prophecies. If you look at the history of most prophecy you find out that if they had just been ignored they would have been meaningless, but people put stock behind them and cause them to be fore-filled.”

“We should get back to the common room, it’s getting late.”

“You go ahead, I’m going try something.”

Hermione looked hesitant but she had known Helen long enough now that she recognized the look on her face. She left her in the classroom and as soon as she was alone Helen pulled out her wand and cast Crinus Muto, changing her hair to black. Next she cast Multicorfus and changed her cloths to all black. Her robe became a jacket and her skirt became tight slacks. Her white shirt became a black tee shirt and her Mary Janes became black sneakers.

With that done she slipped from the classroom and started to sneak her way to the dungeons. She had been down to the room she was going to once before, and her dad and Albus had nearly lost their minds. She had to avoid her dad on the second floor, and McGonagall on the first, but once she was past the hidden wall, she was all clear. They had done their best to keep her out, but there was more than a single set of stairs down to the deeps. The way she was dressed meant she was nothing but a shadow slipping through darkness as she made her way deeper. The room she was headed to was in the very lowest dungeon.

When she came down the final flight of stairs she found the ancient door right where it was supposed to be. A man was carved into the surface, a forest behind him. Helen ran her hand over the door, the surface coming to life under her fingers.

“I am Helen Potter, daughter of the guardian of Slytherin.”

Gryffindor smiled, “Welcome back Helen. Do you seek entry?”

“I do.”

“Where is the final resting place of Salazar?”

“Beneath the statue of Anadora Slytherin in the dungeon grotto.”

“You may pass little one.”

The room she entered was round, and almost two hundred feet across. The ceiling was double that but was plainly visible. A bright blue ball floated high above, ribbons of energy dancing over its surface. Under it sat a book on a pedestal. It was nearly a foot thick and on its pages were recorded the transgressions and achievements of each student and their awards and deductions from the house hour glasses. Next to that was a stack of parchments, names added to them every few seconds before they were whisked away. In the center was Hogwarts itself. The towers, courtyards, and grounds recreated perfectly.

Helen took a compact from her bag and placed it on the pedestal, the blue energy touched it and Helen could feel the castle around her. She pulled her wand out as well as a battered old journal and flipped to the page she was looking for. She hadn’t been the first student to find this place and she was sure she wouldn’t be the last. This was the living heart of the castle. It could rearrange itself, guard itself, and fill itself. The parchments flying about were filled with the names of those who would one day be students, the book tracked the history and memory of this place. In shelves spaced around the room were all the banners and dressing for the great hall’s decoration. It was the one place where she could perform this spell successfully.

“Secretum meum serva!” She placed her wand on the compact, “Verba ‘Peek-a-boo I see you’.”

The surface of the compact rippled then it clicked and where there had been a tab there was now a clasp. She ran her finger over it and said the pass phrase she had just set, the surface revealed to her. The blue energy continued to dance on its surface but it’s light formed dots around the room.

“Dux gradus,” a tiny ball of light appeared.

“Secretum Architectura,”  the light changed colors, from red to green.

“Tabula design,” the ball changed colors once again from green to blue.

“Ostende Habitantes,” now the ball was pulsing.

“Volitare Imaginem,” the ball burst. What had once been a tiny ball of light burst forth into a floating 3D map of the castle from the deepest dungeons to the highest towers. She continued to tweak it until it included the grounds to the boundary of the wards. She layered in a color coding system to see which passages where open, secret, locked, and blocked. She could control the size of the image as well as have it map a route through the castle for her. She didn’t even need to keep it out for that feature, just hold it. The edges would warm the way she was supposed to go.

She looked at the journal in her hand, “Well, you did it again dad. I made some changes though. My map isn’t going to be paper and require a wall to fully unfold. Now, let's see if the castle is a little more revealing to me. Show me all the secret passages to Dumbledore’s office.”