"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, Rhea and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again.
"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly, obviously irritated that he was ruining his death day party. "If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly. "My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen; it is my great sorrow . . ."
But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd was turning to watch.
"Remind me to not die with my head beheaded." Rhea muttered, rubbing her hands together for warmth.
"I can't stand much more of this," Ron muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.
"Let's go," Harry agreed.
"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Ron hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the entrance hall.
". . . rip . . . tear . . . kill . . ."
Harry and Rhea froze. Clutching Harry's arm tightly, Rhea whispered, "Harry—can you hear—"
They stumbled to a halt, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.
". . . soo hungry . . . for so long . . ."
"What on earth is that?" Rhea spoke in a strangled, terrified whisper.
"Listen!" said Harry urgently.
". . . kill . . . time to kill . . ."
Harry looked at Rhea, who nodded, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "It's moving upwards," she said hurriedly.
"This way," Harry shouted, and he and Rhea began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall, with Ron and Hermione at their heels.
"Harry, what're we —"
"SHH!" Harry and Rhea snapped, sounding louder than Hermione and Ron themselves.
". . . I smell blood. . . . I SMELL BLOOD!"
"It's going to kill someone!" Harry shouted.
They hurtled around the whole of the second floor, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything. . . ."
Harry inhaled sharply. "Look!"
Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
╔═══*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═══╗
╚═══*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═══╝
Lily Evans couldn't have been happier. She was a witch, she had her best friend with her, and more importantly, she was a prefect.
She glowed with pride and happiness. Being a muggle born and having to prove to people she could be as good as the others finally proved fruitful. Nothing could dampen her mood, not even the annoying prats she had to deal with every year.
Maybe people still wouldn't take her seriously, maybe her orders as a prefect wouldn't mean much to people, and maybe people may try to thwart her.
But Lily Evans was not a person to go against. Underestimating redheads can have terrible consequences. She'd already built up her reputation of being a spitfire with a mean talent of hurling hexes. And Lily was going to live up to that, as always.
"Come on, Severus, let's go!" Lily chirped, her smile not wavering in the slightest. Her hair was tied into a tight bun and a few strands framed her face well. There was a prefect badge pinned to her robes, shining proudly against the red and gold colours of Gryffindor.
"I suppose we have enough time, Lily." Severus drawled, his greasy hair curtaining his sallow face. His expression was one of boredom, but his black eyes were glinting with amusement as he followed the bubbly redhead slowly.
"You're no joy!" Lily declared dramatically, pushing past people in a hurry to get into the Great Hall seeing as she was absolutely famished.
Severus rolled his eyes but managed a small smile. Together they entered the Great Hall. Lily paused, and looked at the gleaming badge on her robes, uncertainty clouding her mind. Would she be worthy of it?
Then she smiled brightly and straightened her shoulders. Some things were just out of her control and she'd just have to do her best. And that was that.
"I'll see you tomorrow after the Sorting, Sev!" she told him happily and waved her hand in farewell.
"Bye." Severus mumbled moodily, certainly not look forward to his Prefect Duties.
Smiling one last time at him, she waved goodbye and went to the Gryffindor table. After a good ten minutes, all the students had filed in, and the Great Hall was more noisier than ever with hundreds of students yelling in delight at seeing their friends after two months.
Lily looked over to her right and spotted Marlene McKinnon and Mary MacDonald. The two girls, having sensed Lily's stare, looked at the new Gryffindor Prefect and smiled politely. Lily waved half-heartedly. They might have been dorm-mates, but they weren't that close. Again, Lily wasn't perturbed. It had been the same for five years, she hadn't exactly been counting on some changes this year.
"Wish they'd hurry up," a voice behind Lily whined. She turned around her seat and to her dismay, she found Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew standing with wide grins.
Great.
"Hello, Lily," Remus greeted her quietly, his brown hair falling to his forehead and almost covering his green eyes. There were scars that ran across his face, and some looked like they'd been recently inflicted upon. When Lily was eleven, being the overly curious girl she was, she'd asked Remus how he'd gotten the scars, hoping to be of some help if he was in trouble. Remus had laughed it off nervously and had told her he was just overly clumsy.
Lily hadn't believed him, but it wasn't her business to prod for more information.
"Hello, Remus," she inclined her head towards him slightly.
"Since when have two of you been friends?" Black demanded, taking a seat next to Lily.
"Since the time Remus decided to betray our trust!" Potter announced, trying to make space for himself next to Black.
"And when did I decide to do that, pray tell?" Remus asked calmly, looking at the specky git and his mophead counterpart.
"When you decided to accept that wretched badge!" Black cried, pointing at his shiny badge that was identical to Lily's. Lily suppressed the urge to sigh irritably.
Remus rolled his eyes at his dramatics. Ignoring Black, Remus sat down opposite Lily and budged up to make space for Pettigrew, who sat down rather eagerly.
"Congratulations on the badge, Evans," Black told her glumly, as though he didn't deem it appropriate for anyone to have the honour of being a prefect.
"Thanks, Black." she answered stiffly, sparing him a disdainful glance.
Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. Lily and Remus straightened up in their seats and stared fixedly at the Hat. Lily always loved listening to the Sorting song: she supposed it must be really lonely for a hat to live in the Headmaster's office with nothing else to do than to compose a song. Maybe that was why the hat did a good job every year.
"Who are they?" Remus asked, looking curiously at the two girls who were talking to Professor Slughorn. The two transfers were about their age—one was quite tall, had short black her that fell onto her shoulders, looking as if it was cut very recently. She looked extremely stiff and irritable, as though she would rather be anywhere else than here.
The other girl had long, blonde hair that reached her midriff. She was wearing ridiculous spectacles that glinted under the huge torches of the Great Hall. Her expression told Lily that she was not interested in the events unfolding in front of her in the slightest.
"We've never had transfers before," Lily stated just as curiously, looking at the two of them.
"What's on her case?" Pettigrew guffawed, looking at the blonde, referring to the strange aura surrounding her. He'd always been quite blunt with his judgement, rather like his fellow mates.
"What do you mean, Pettigrew?" Lily snapped, looking at him with narrowed eyes. This was just an excuse to berate him, really. Her temper always flared whenever she was in vicinity of Pettigrew, Potter and Black.
"Oh, nothing at all..." he trailed off sarcastically, clearly heavily influenced by the mean attitudes of Potter and Black.
"I see what you mean," Black nodded wisely, watching the girls too. "She emits out... certain dottiness."
"Watch it, Black," Lily warned him through gritted teeth, having always hated casual comments about someone's appearance.
"That's enough," Remus told them calmly. "Sirius, Peter, stop being rude. Look the Sorting is starting."
***
1st of September.
It was the first of September. It was supposed to be a nice, cheery, exciting day.
Today, however, was not just any 1st of September. It was the 1st of September, 1975. Keyword being 1975.
She supposed her luck was this rotten because she had spent way too much time with Harry. It was like he had passed on his luck, fate and misfortune to her.
Luna, bless her soul, was enjoying all this immensely. She had talked to Slughorn enthusiastically, and Rhea knew immediately they would be on the Slug Club 'to-be-invited' list.
She was standing next to Luna along with the First years lined up for the Sorting. Rhea tried very, very hard not to let her eyes stray towards the Gryffindor table. Even if she did, she would not have recognised the Marauders and Lily immediately. The only Marauder she'd instantly recognise was James Potter, seeing as he was a carbon copy of Harry, except with a few differing features.
Merlin, kill me, she thought angrily. After a few minutes, the Hat burst into a song.
Rhea closed her eyes tightly. The hat was still singing that song—the song it sang in her first year. It was like she was attending Hogwarts the first time. She didn't want to, though. Her heart craved to go back to Ron, Hermione and Harry. She wanted her old life back. What if she couldn't save them? What if it was all meant to happen anyway and coming here would simply make matters worse?
And before she knew it, Rhea was hyperventilating. Her breath was coming out in rasps—loud and clear. Her knuckles had turned white, and she knew her face had turned pale too. She was clutching the side of her robes tightly.
How could she have thought she would survive here? At least half the people in the Great Hall were dead in her time. And how could she have thought she would manage with them? Four of them were dead in her time, and one was a shell of a man, a father of a little Metamorphagus...
The Hat ended its song. The applause sounded far away to Rhea, and everything was a blur. She was having an 'out of body' experience.
The isolation during their time tended to make Rhea extremely anxious around large masses of people. Her paranoia increased a tenfold and the voices in the hall were much louder than they actually were.
Luna looked at the First Years next to her. They were all looking at the Hat in awe as it finished its song, unaware that a girl amidst them was clearly panicking visibly as she hunched slightly to regain some composure.
The Sorting was taking place slowly. There would be plenty of time until she came through the 'C's.
Luna stood on her tiptoes, and reached closer to Rhea. Then, she began singing Rhea's favourite muggle song under her breath. It wasn't invented in the Muggle world yet, though.
And what would you say if I called on you now
And said that I can't hold on
There's no easy way, it gets harder each day
Please love me or I'll be gone, I'll be gone
Rhea's heart lightened slightly. It was like she was hearing it for the first time, and she fell in love with it all over again. This song never failed to make her feel better, and even though it reminded Rhea of all the people she'd lost, she couldn't help but feel her senses tingle at the familiarity. The fact that at least something in her life was constant cheered her up greatly.
"Bell, Stephen!"
Rhea and Luna stopped singing. Rhea no more looked like she was facing a Boggart. Her complexion was turning back to its original colour, and her eyes looked relieved, happy even. She took a deep breath, and sent a smile towards Luna, who returned it.
Slipping her hand into Luna's, Rhea whispered, "Good luck. I hope I'm in your House."
"I hope so too." Luna told her with a smile, giving her hand a squeeze. Their hands were extremely cold, anxiousness flooding both of them at the prospect of facing the ghosts of the past.
And then their moment came...
"Cadieux, Luna!"
The noise in the Great Hall dimmed considerably. It seemed like most students had recognised the surname; after all, their names had been mentioned in the Daily Prophet multiple times. Luna sent Rhea a last smile, and went to Professor McGonagall calmly, unbothered by the undivided attention of all the students and professors.
Professor McGonagall gave Luna a rare smile and placed the Hat on her head gently. Luna took a deep breath and fiddled with the butterbeer cork necklace to ease her spiking heartbeat.
Luna Lovegood, the Hat said in her mind immediately, its voice ancient and wise.
Sorty, she greeted him.
There was a pause. A bewildered one. It seemed like Luna had rendered the wise old Hat speechless.
The Hat sounded miffed. What was that?
A name. Haven't you had a name before?
Sorting Hat is the name! The Hat said irritably.
Its literal, don't you think? It's like calling a spoon 'Eating Utensil'.
Gahh! It groaned. Don't distract me, girl! Coming to the point, lass, I'm very aware about your time travel!
That's nice, and I know all about you too.
Not Slytherin, it declared in her mind, ignoring her previous comment. No, no, not cunning at all. Hufflepuff would suit you well, girl, but something tells me you would do better off in...
Ravenclaw?
No, it said gleefully, as though it was a personal accomplishment to let Luna down.
Luna's eyes widened. What's that supposed to mean, Sorty?
It means, lass, I won't be putting you in Ravenclaw. Yes, yes, all the qualities of Ravenclaw, a true Ravenclaw, but no... you have a duty here, do you not? You cannot fulfil your duty if I were to put you in Ravenclaw.
Better be...
Luna sighed irritably.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted to the Hall.
Luna widened her eyes in horror, as though she couldn't believe the Hat had the guts (it didn't have guts, but speaking figuratively...) to put her in Gryffindor. She was a Ravenclaw, for Gulping Plimpy's sake! She was a person who believed in impossible things, unlike narrow-minded Gryffindors! The Gryfffindors didn't pride themselves on the quote 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'! She would turn out to be like Ron! Or worse, Hermione! No, no, no...
Professor McGonagall took the Hat off, and the entire Gryffindor table burst into cheers and applause. There were quite audible groans from the Slytherin table.
Luna glanced at Rhea to find her looking like her world had turned upside down. Rhea shuddered to think what Ron's reaction would have been if he had been here... Luna was a Ravenclaw! In fact, she was the very embodiment of knowledge, creativeness and curiosity! Why had the Sorting Hat placed her in Gryffindor? Was it because it knew she'd make the right friends in Gryffindor? Or was it because the Marauders were in Gryffindor?
Presently, Luna was glaring at the Hat. "How could you?" she asked the Hat, pointing an accusing finger at the Hat.
The Great Hall was still noisy, but a few professors had heard her and were chuckling, while Professor McGonagall looked miffed, as though she thought anyone who disliked Gryffindor was a criminal.
"Have Wrackspurts infected your brain?" she asked the Hat dramatically. "They do make one's thoughts fuzzy! Is that the reason? I didn't know Wrackspurts affected Hats! If it did, I would have brought my Spectrespecs with me! How can you put me with the lions?"
"Cadieux, Rhea!" Professor McGonagall announced hastily before Luna could launch into her tirade. Luna huffed and recognised the abrupt dismissal of McGonagall, who stared at her sternly as though daring her to contradict her wishes. Luna sighed and walked to the Gryffindor table glumly.
Rhea was smiling nervously, a weird habit of hers. She walked to the stool shakily and sat down as Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on her head. Abruptly, the outside world was cut off and it was just Rhea and the Sorting Hat.
Rhea Arquette, the Hat said warily, as though it was afraid she would start acting like Luna. Time traveller, natural Legilimens...
How can you read my thoughts anyway? I'm a natural Occlumens, how can you read my thoughts? I mean, you've done it before, but I'm still curious.
I'm a Hat, it said, as though that explained everything. Now, lass, let's get this over with. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw ruled out.
"Why?" she snapped out loud, and a few students in the vicinity laughed.
I know why you're weary, Rhea, it said with small amount of kindness. You don't want to attach yourself to these people you are going to save, because there is every chance you cannot save them all.
Rhea continued to stare petulantly at the inside of the Hat.
If Hats could sigh, it sure did. You were a true Ravenclaw when I sorted you the first time. But with time, people change. Sometimes, I do believe Dumbledore should convince that wretched Ministry to not allow Sorting until you brats reach fifteen. Sometimes, I fear we Sort too soon...
Wait, Rhea interjected. When I was first Sorted, you recognized a connection in me. Before you Sort me into Gryffindor now, could you tell me if I'm still connected to Harry? Harry Potter? Because Dumbledore said this kind of connection never dies—
The connection remains strong, the Hat said almost reluctantly.
What? How? The future is destroyed! Harry is not even alive—
That is not for me to say, the Hat stopped her firmly.
Before she could protest, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"