Saying farewell to Rian this second time was every bit as difficult as it was the first. Heather didn't know how she would endure a year and a half more of this. At least he had a larger repertoire of defensive magic now.
Heather met Fred and George on the Hogwarts Express. "Thank you for the camera, George, and the album, Fred," she said, hugging them both. "They really were the best presents ever."
They both had smug grins before they realised exactly what she had said.
"How do you know-" George said, confused.
"-who got you what?" Fred asked incredulously.
"That's a se-cret!" Heather sing-songed. "I notice you two didn't object when I identified you by name."
She laughed at their sputtered protests.
~~~
Heather stared at them. The large winged horses looked fearsome, with protruding ribs, leathery hide and reptilian features. Thestrals. The carriages were pulled by thestrals.
"Creepy, ain't it," Fred stated.
"Yeah, carriages that pull themselves," George added.
Heather's eyes clouded over in grief when she remembered. Thestrals could only be seen by those who had witnessed and accepted death.
'Not my baby!' Green light. Body crumpled to the ground.
Ignoring the twins' identical confused glances, Heather cautiously approached one of the equines. Slowly, so as to not spook the skittish creature, she raised a hand and petted it.
"Heather?"
"Thestrals. Winged horses that are only visible to those who have seen death," Heather whispered solemnly. Fred and George sobered at the implication.
The ride was spent in contemplative silence.
~~~
The package sat innocently on her bed. Yeah, right. There was nothing innocent about a strange package from an unknown person inside her dorm room. It could be a malicious prank by Avery – he seemed like the type.
With a thought, the object levitated off her bed. Stretching out her senses, she probed the item. It didn't feel bad. Thus, she cautiously unravelled the wrapping.
A strange silvery material was revealed. Heather blinked in confusion and read the note that fell out of its folds.
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.
Heather narrowed her eyes. That wasn't suspicious at all. Nevertheless, there didn't seem to be any harmful spells on the material, so she picked it up. It appeared to be a cloak of some sort made of a shimmery fabric. It was exquisite, but why would Papa want to give this specifically to her? Curious, she put the cloak on.
And promptly got the shock of her life.
The parts of her body that were covered were now invisible. An invisibility cloak? So this was how Papa had gotten away with all his pranks.
Heather shuddered as she imagined what Fred and George would get up to with this.
~~~
As expected, the twins created more trouble than the last term with help from the cloak. They still got a record breaking number of detentions, though, since everyone knew that they were the culprits.
On the bright side, Heather had gotten picture after picture of them in various mortifying positions because of Mr Filch's detentions. There was one of them cleaning up glitter in the Great Hall. Using toothbrushes. On their hands and knees. Covered in pink sparkles. She had sent that one to Hadrian.
Her fellow Slytherins were as awful as usual. It didn't bother Heather much; she just made sure to be alert when she was alone in the dungeons. It helped that her wand couldn't be stolen. (Fred and George had been...shell-shocked, shall we say, when they had tried to pick her wand up.)
All she had to endure were the spiteful taunts and glares. She had to admit that they were better at them than the Dursleys were.
Rhianna Rowle had once made the mistake of calling Mama a 'mudblood bitch'. Rowle didn't talk for a month after that. Didn't, not couldn't. No one insulted Heather's mother after that.
Heather had been prepared to accept punishment for that, even if she hadn't actually physically injured Rowle. On the contrary, Professor Snape had seemed rather pleased when she told him the whole story. He obviously detested that derogatory slur as well.
Speaking of the Potions Professor, it had become a standing appointment every Wednesday for Heather to meet him. It started off as just an hour of her asking him questions. However, after the Professor had demonstrated a more effective technique to skin shrivelfigs, he began to assign her ingredients to prepare after she finished her questions for the week.
"You might as well make yourself useful while you're intruding on my time," he had said irritably.
Heather hoped to advance to making potions during these sessions.
Heather's textbook was becoming increasingly filled in with her loopy writing. Though not quite as well-annotated as the Prince's books, she was proud of it nonetheless.
~~~
Fred and George barrelled into the Den, calling out her name.
Heather looked up from thinning the honeysuckle. "What has you two in such a state?" They looked dishevelled (well, more than usual) and red-faced, as if they had run all the way here. "Weren't you guys having detention with Mr Filch? What did he have you doing this time?"
The twins gave manic grins.
"No," George said, "he made us clear out-"
"-the storage cupboards in his office," Fred finished.
Glancing bemusedly between the two, Heather ventured, "And you two...enjoyed that immensely?"
Fred snorted while his twin made a puking gesture.
"No, but we did find a drawer labelled-"
"-Confiscated and Highly Dangerous!"
"I opened it while-"
"-I distracted Filch-"
"-and we nicked this!" they spoke proudly, flaunting a piece of parchment.
"Fred, George, that's just a blan-" Heather started to say before her gaze sharpened. The thing was practically soaked in intricate magic.
George caught the grin his brother gave him and winked back. They had her now. "Wanna inspect it?" he offered, holding it out.
Heather snatched it up excitedly and scrutinised it from all angles. "It's blank, but there is something about it."
"Jackpot!" they cheered.
"Between Forge's wit-"
"-Gred's creativity-"
"-and your marginal intelligence-"
"-we're sure to succeed!"
Heather turned their hair white at the dig.
~~~
That year's House Cup had gone to Gryffindor, mostly because they won the Quidditch Cup, which netted them plenty of points. Their captain, Charles 'Charlie' Weasley, was the twins' second eldest brother and a fabulous seeker. He had caught the snitch in almost all of Gryffindor's matches.
Professor Snape had been moodier than usual after the announcement, though the Gryffindors would have described it more as fuming like a rampaging dragon. Heather had also had to endure Fred and George's good natured ribbing.
As expected, Heather had aced all her examinations. Although she got an E for History of Magic, it was still the highest grade. Only one other student, a Ravenclaw, had gotten an E. Even Professor Snape seemed impressed by her marks, though it was barely noticeable. Heather rather thought that he was just smug about the top student in her year being from his house.
Hadrian was chuffed that his sister had actually fulfilled her promise, though he was hardly surprised. He was much more ecstatic that she would be back with him again for a whole nine weeks.
The Dursleys were much more skittish around the siblings, sometimes flinching when either of them made a sudden movement. Heather was a little worried about that. Desperation and fear bred aggression, after all.
Fortunately, the summer had passed without incident. They went on their own this time on their Diagon trip, on the middle date between their birthdays. Besides their traditional birthday celebrations that year, they'd also had a day out romping around the magical district.
Heather had also taken the opportunity to set up her investment plans at Gringotts. The regular correspondence she'd had with Griphook over the past year had been eye-opening and they had managed to hash out a mutually beneficial arrangement.
It was too soon when 1 September arrived again. Hadrian had to remind her of the mere year he had left until he enrolled before she could bear to leave.