Carpe Diem

Author's Note: This story was written for Flourish's August Fanfic challenge. The POVs are switched between five different first person narrators – why I chose to do it in this rather masochistic way is beyond me, but I don't think it'll be too hard to follow.

Harry Potter and all related characters/spells/ideas are property of J. K. Rowling. However, there's not much of that in this story! Almost everything came from my head. As for the title, it'll be obvious by the end. (It's also the first phrase that popped into my head when I read the challenge description.)

My mother is overprotective; it was all I could do to persuade her to let me get my school supplies without her hovering over me. But at last I did and the last Friday in August took Floo Powder to the Magical Mall, a relatively new –within my lifetime, anyway – set of shops somewhere in Kentucky. I had more than the usual amount of money with me –after all, it was my seventh year and I'd be needing more than before, not to mention the fact that some of the money was my own, to be used on, er, personal items. Anyway, I got there around nine and had to wait twelve minutes for Brigit to show up. Brigit O'Hare is my partner; three months younger than me, at least as bright, and seventh-generation America, regardless of her name. We both go to Stellanova Academy, in Montana. Finally she arrived by Portkey – she hated Floo Powder, and her dad's with the Bureau of Magical Transportation; I suppose he fixed it up for her.

"Lewis!" she said, grinning, when she saw me.

"How're you?" I asked. "Been a short month and a half, eh?"

"You don't have three younger brothers," she said with a mock groan. "Every time Weasel showed up with one of your letters they teased me for hours about my boyfriend."

"We'll see who's laughing next year," I promised. We're going to have a line of, well, specialized equipment, developed for people like us. And there's no romantic attachment between the two of us, just good, solid, partnership.

"Well, let's get going," Brigit said. "Soon as we've got the books out of the way we can get our real supplies. Have you figured out that curse we were looking at?"

I shook my head. " 'Fraid not. Dorian will have to keep his face another year."

"Ah well." She smiled at a sudden thought. "Perhaps his mother will finally come to her sense and realized they swapped her son for a rat."

"Sure." I laughed and we came to Villa & Kings, Booksellers.

"What's on the list this year?" Brigit asked. "My brothers, ah, lost mine, I'm afraid."

"Good thing we've got the same classes," I remarked, looking at mine. "Ah, the usual, Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four, A Guide to Dark Art Defense, blah blah blah – ah, here's the interesting ones. McBroom's Strange and Interesting Creatures, Arithmagic, Seeing the Future."

"Got 'em," Brigit said, piling the required volumes on a small cart placed there for shopping convenience, as the plastic placard on it read. "Now, the practical ones. Fitzgerald's Ways to Fool Your Pals, the new edition of A Prankster's Practical Handbook, and Still More Ways to Cause Havoc."

"All of which are, of course, not permitted at Stellanova." I grinned. "Good thing your old Dad was a prankster too."

"You'd never know it," she said thoughtfully. "But he does have a scrapbook, and Mom says he was worse than he says, and that false-bottomed trunk is such a wonderful thing."

"Mum says my dad was mischievous, too." I sighed, thinking of the man I could only vaguely remember.

"It must be hard on you," Brigit said sympathetically.

"Well, not all the time." I grinned at her. "It'd be nice having a dad, but I barely remember him, and it's hard to miss someone you don't remember. Not like poor Mum. I've told you how she was so upset she had to leave the country."

"Actually, I'm glad she did." Brigit smiled. "Otherwise we'd never have met and caused such havoc for poor Professor Cognitus."

We paid for our books and hurried down the mall to our next stop. On the way, however, we met probably our least favorite person.

Dorian Thomas bared our path, sneering down at us. It was really quite unfair that he had a two-inch advantage of me in height – I wasn't short but he sure was tall.

"Well, if it isn't Kieran and his girlfriend, out for a stroll," he said, laughing. "What's all this?" He looked over our books. He always speaks that way, emphasizing words in the most annoying way.

"Cunningly disguised fireworks," Brigit said tersely. "You touch one, it goes off." She smiled sweetly at him all of a sudden. "Why don't you carry them for me."

"Fireworks." His tone dripped sarcasm. "So how can you hold them?"

"We enchanted them, of course we can hold them," I said. "It's just certain other people. Stupid, ugly people like you, as a matter of fact."

His face reddened and he reached out his hand to grab the top book from Brigit's stack. There was a bang and he fell over, backwards, the sneer frozen on his, to tell the truth, not unhandsome face.

"What did you do?" Brigit asked. "Something nasty, I hope."

"No, just a Knockout Curse." I shrugged my shoulders as best I could with my arms full and returned my wand to my belt. "Hopefully with all this magic around, in won't be noticed."

"And if you are, after all, your mother works for the Department for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry." Brigit flashed a smile my way.

"Of course," I agreed. "Now, let's go get some Dungbombs, and then an ice cream to celebrate."

"You're on," she said happily, leading the way down the street.

~~~

When I regained consciousness, there was no sign of that Kieran or his annoying little girlfriend. I was glad that no one seemed to have noticed me; the thought of word getting around to my associates that I had been knocked out by a pair of pranksters was almost more than I could bear. For a moment I considered reporting them to the proper department, but I decided against it. Too much to do today.

I really rather hate the Mall; it's rather Mugglish in design, Father says. But if you know where to go… a rather dingy little tobacconist's shop held a trapdoor to another level, Level Thirteen, known but ignored by most people. That's where the interesting things are; not things like Dungbombs and fireworks that idiots like Kieran enjoy. Real things, like books of forbidden spells and secret magics, ingredients for potions banned by international law. Powdered unicorn blood, which you'd have to practically mortgage your soul to buy – and most of the frequenters of Level Thirteen have already done so. Wizened old women who know necromancy and are willing to teach it.

This was the first time I'd been allowed to come here alone; Father had told Mother that I was quite old enough now, seventeen, and he wanted me to get some practice dealing with the sort of scum and riffraff that make up most of such a place. I'd bought my normal school supplies days ago, but there were a few special items… I had a few grudges to pay, and some information I was seeking.

Father had told me, after much persuading, where to go about finding the man I sought. There was a small shop, not more than a hole in the wall, filled with skulls and hides of various dangerous creatures. The man behind the worm-eaten desk was tall and thin. His head was covered in silver hair, and his smile was most unpleasant. I gulped.

"Sir, my name is Dorian Thomas."

"Quentin Thomas' son?" he inquired. I nodded.

"My father told me how to find you. He sends his regards and asks me to tell you that the roses are in bloom." I had no idea what this meant, as we have no roses at our mansion. Father would never allow them.

"Excellent. And have you any personal business here?"

"Yes sir." I stared into his cold gray eyes without flinching. "I wish to join the organization of which you are a part."

"I see." He smiled coldly. "I suppose you think you have something of value to offer us?"

"Yes, sir." I kept my voice steady and my hands from trembling. "I have received high grades in every class at Stellanova, top of the class in Potions. Professor Gremial says I have great potential."

"Our informers at Stellanova have informed us that you are a possible candidate," the man said smoothly. "Your eagerness to join, and your excellent family, are both also in your favor. However, we never accept anyone who has not completed his training. So I will offer you this. Our agents there will observe you carefully this year. If at the end of that time you have proved yourself to them, you will be allowed to join. If not…" he smiled coldly. "We will have to evaluate your case. You may know too much about us. Too much knowledge can be very dangerous, Mr. Thomas."

His smile sent chills down my spine, but I nodded. "Very well, I accept."

"There is nothing for you to accept. " He said this more sharply. "You have no choice." I nodded. "You are excused."

Shivering, I made my way back to the rest of the Mall. It didn't look so very despicable anymore. My mind kept worrying about the choice I had just made. If I passed, all was well, but if not… death. I didn't like that.

But then my eye fell on Kieran and O'Hare, in a nearby shop. They were laughing together and didn't notice me, and I remembered why I was doing this. It was because I hated people like them, goody-two-shoes who refused to see things the way they were, who opposed the head of the organization I was trying to join.

Lord Voldemort. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

~~

I could barely wait as the first of September rolled around. This was my seventh and final year at Stellanova, the most prestigious wizard's school in America, and this year I was to finally be Quidditch Captain. I'm the Seeker and this year I'll be the oldest player on the team.

My mother kept insisting on me packing unimportant things, like more than five pairs of socks, and so I didn't have room for all my Quidditch books. "Andrew," she'd say, "There's more to life than Quidditch." I knew she was right, but for now Quidditch was the most important thing. I wanted to play on a national team, any team, any part of the country, and it was my dream to someday play for America in the Quidditch World Cup. I could close my eyes and see myself being carried off the field by adoring fans, while the announcer shouted "Andrew Miller, the best Seeker this century, better than even Viktor Krum, has just captured the Snitch and secured America's first World Cup victory in forty years!"

That's what I wanted. Who cared about working for the government, like Dad did, or writing best selling books on charming your own cheese, like mother? I wanted to be really famous. Mostly, I wanted to play Quidditch.

Mother was a bit upset that I wasn't made a prefect a few years back, but I told her that only the really dull and brainy kids seemed to get that role. None of the cool kids in my House were. The Houses at Stellanova are named after magical animals; Dragon, Unicorn, Manticore, and Sphinx. I'm in Dragon. So's Lewis, one of my best friends, and Brigit, another friend. They weren't made prefect either.

I've heard that English kids take a train to their school. Perhaps that works in a small country like England, but in America? Never. We usually take Floo Powder to our nearest Portkey Station, which then connects us to Stellanova. (I've also heard that we have a better system of magical transportation than European wizards. No searching for Portkeys for us; there are big stations, like Muggle airports, and Portkeys leave for scheduled destinations every hour.) We have to ship our luggage ahead of time, of course, imagine carrying a chest, an owl, and extra socks that just wouldn't fit while using a Portkey! No thanks.

Anyway, this summer had been rather dull, punctuated only by odd rumors from overseas about You-Know-Who. Thank goodness he never got around to us last time, though my friend Lewis's father, who lived in England, was killed by Death Eaters. Anyway, the scuttlebutt was that the English Ministry of Magic had contacted our Federal Bureau of Wizardry about possible help, should You-Know-Who return.

When I arrived at the Southern California Portkey Station, I saw Brigit, who lives in California as I do, talking with another girl who I didn't immediately recognize. The other girl had short, very dark hair, and a sweet voice. Then I recognized Lucy Smith, a Unicorn seventh year. Brigit smiled and hurried over to me.

"Nice to see you, Andrew."

"And you, Brig." She scowled at my use of the nickname.

"Oh well, at least you guys aren't calling me 'Aqueduct' anymore."

"Bet you're happy to be getting back," I said slyly. She looked at me blankly.

"What do you mean?"

"Lewis," I said, grinning. She sighed.

"First of all, there's nothing between the two of us."

"Right," I said, and was rewarded with a flush in Brigit's cheeks.

"Second, I saw him a week ago at the Magical Mall while we were getting school supplies."

"Ah-hah!" I grinned triumphantly. "I want an invitation to the wedding."

"Sorry, I think you'll be disappointed there." Then she grinned. "But we'll be glad to send you a free sample of our products when we get going."

"Just don't confuse my free sample with Dorian Thomas', please," I begged.

"We won't." And she grinned nastily. "Oh, look, we'd better go – the Portkeys are starting." We hurried forward and caught the first one. As we were about to be yanked away, I happened to glance back. Behind us stood Lucy Smith, an odd look on her face as she watched us. I wondered what it might mean.

~~

Brigit, I think, might have guessed my secret. Perhaps that was why she sought me out in conversation before we caught the Portkeys to school. Oh, she was friendly enough, but underneath her words there was something unsaid. She wanted me to stay away from Lewis Kieran. Not that she had to worry about him at all. Or about me, really.

You see, my deepest secret, one that I have told no one and that only my foster parents and Professor Numbwitz knows, is that I am - a Veela. Certainly I don't look it. My hair is black and short, not silvery and flowing, my features are common, and I have never caused males to go mad for me. There's a reason for that. I dye my hair, I always have, and keep it short. Magic changes my face to a normal one, and a vow binds my Veela magic, keeps it unused. I promised my mother – foster mother, but mother to me my whole life – and then later the headmaster of Stellanova, that I would never, ever use my charms while I was there. And I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't use them afterwards, either. I don't want to be Veela. I want to be human.

But even if Lewis Kieran had been interested in me, I wouldn't have wanted him. I had already given my heart, non-human though it was, to another. And he'd never even noticed me. So it was for the first time in my life that I was tempted to use my Veela charms. If I did, I knew I could get his attention. If not – never. But I had sworn not to use them, and I would not break my word. I would remain Lucy Smith, false human, so that I did not become something less.

~~

I absolutely love the first week back to school. The professors never give you much homework, everyone's still friends, the inter-House rivalries haven't had time to get boring yet, and people have forgotten over the summer all the safety measures they should take. Lewis and I pull more pranks in the first week back than in most of the rest of the year combined.

I'm a tomboy, I admit it. I always have been. I rather despise girls who spend their time worrying over their hair and clothes, and I never wear a dress if I can help it. I keep my hair cut very short, so that I can pull my pranks easily, and to keep it out of the way; Mother used to say it made me look like a boy, but there's little danger of me being taken for that now, unless it's rather dark.

Everyone at school says that we're a pair, but Lewis and I always tell them that we're just a team. Unfortunately, it's true. See, I've been in love with him for years, for almost as long as we've been friends, but he seems to think of me as a friend only. It's rather annoying, but worse is the fact that now and then I've actually wondered whether if I grew my hair longer and wore makeup he'd be interested in me. I'm ashamed to admit such thoughts even to myself! After all, everyone knows that the surest thing to wreck a friendship is a romance… and without Lewis' friendship life would mean little to me. So I'm perfectly content to be his partner in crime. Most of the time.

We take the same classes; all the usual ones that everyone in school takes, of course, plus Divination, for the laughs and the easy A's, Care of Magical Creatures, because it's rather fun, and Arithmancy, because our parents all say it's incredibly useful for creating new magic spells and such, and there's no denying that we have to make up a lot of charms, potions, and transformations. Right now we mostly adapt existing ones for our peculiar uses, but someday, you mark my words, we'll be famous for inventing new spells.

Divination was the Tuesday after we got back. Lewis and I had a lot of fun making up predictions about each other – apparently I was to die of a broken heart within the year, and Lewis was going to become his worst nightmare. (Clifford's Guide to Passing Divination recommends melodramatic prophecies; generally the divinators just lap it up.) Neither of us believes a bit of that stuff, but it could come in handy someday, and for now it's just a load of laughs.

Care of Magical Creatures is always good and bad. This year we're studying foreign and dangerous beasts, like the grindylow, kappa, and Cornish Pixie. (We covered all those in Defense Against the Dark Arts years ago, but now we're learning to raise and harvest such creatures.) The bad thing is that Dragon House has Magical Creatures with Manticore. Manticore House has always had a bad reputation, and it seems deserved. Dorian Thomas is in Manticore House. We try to avoid him – unless we are plaguing him with our latest tricks – but sometimes it's not possible. This time we got stuck with him as the fourth member of our group – Andrew was the third – while we were feeding Cornish Pixies. Halfway through the lesson he asked to be excused to use the bathroom. Professor Grubbly-Plank let him. She was new this year and didn't yet know about his tricks. As soon as he was a safe distance away the lid of our cage of Pixies blew off. The little blue creatures were swarming over everyone in an instant, and there was an immediate uproar. Professor Grubbly-Plank attempted to restore order, but it was no good.

"That Thomas!" Andrew growled as we struggled with the blue nuisances. "I wish he were on the Quidditch team for Manticore, I'd order the Beaters to smash his face in with Bludgers."

"Don't worry, Andrew," Lewis assured him. "He'll be sorry."

"When?" Andrew asked. Lewis glanced at me and I nodded.

"Dinnertime," he said casually. "Keep your eye on him around six thirty, okay?"

"Right," Andrew agreed, grinning. "Should I make any special preparations?"

"Camera," I suggested. "Just wish he hadn't played this Cornish Pixie prank on us. He'll think we're rather unoriginal. And we're never that."

"Don't worry, Brig," Andrew said. I threw the Cornish Pixie in my hands at him.

"Oh, watch out, Andrew!" Lavinia Spencer, a girl in our House, warned. "Brig'll start liking you, and then you're doomed!"

"Watch it yourself, Lav," I said sarcastically. She just smiled at me. "And watch Thomas tonight, too." This brought a smile to the face of every Dragon in earshot. None of us liked Dorian.

~~

I must say, the prank Brigit and I had planned for Dorian was one of our best ever. We'd been planning it for months, since before the end of last year and now we had the chance to bring our plans to fruition.

Thomas didn't notice that he was the subject of much scrutiny. Word had spread among Dragons to keep an eye on him at dinner, and not much food was being consumed at our table. The condemned, unaware of his approaching doom, was consuming beef and potatoes voraciously.

The clock struck six-thirty. No one said anything, except for Andrew who was making faint noises of disgust. (I found out later that he had just had a handful of Every Flavor Beans; yogurt, sprouts, and shoe leather, so it's no wonder.)

Suddenly Dorian's goblet began to totter. Bubbles were appearing in his drink; one grew so large it filled the whole cup, then burst with a pop. Out of it soared a Cornish Pixie. A girl sitting near him gave a shriek and jumped up from the table as her glass too began to boil. In a moment, Cornish Pixies were sprouting from every cup on the Manticore table, but Dorian had more than anyone else. The rest of the Hall was laughing by now, but the Manticores looked furious. As one, they rose and almost ran from the hall, their usual dignity gone.

Dragons were congratulating Brigit and me for our successful prank all that week, and begging for the secret. We just looked mysterious and claimed it had nothing to do with us.

"So how'd you do it? "Andrew asked. "I swear I won't tell."

"Eggs," Brigit said after a minute. "We got the idea from my youngest brother. He's into Muggle stuff right now and he was telling us about these shrimp that lay eggs. They all dry up and look dead, but when you put them in water shrimp start popping out."

"So we figured out how to do that with Cornish Pixies," I continued. "They should be available on the general market next year sometime."

"Well, send me some," Andrew asked. "I'll be playing Quidditch professionally by then."

"Really?" Brigit looked thrilled. "Have you heard from a talent scout?"

"Yeah, yesterday. He's seen me play at school and he says he's pretty sure he can get me a spot once I've graduated!" Andrew grinned. "I can hardly believe it!"

"Me either," Brigit enthused. "When you're famous I shall come and visit you and bask in your limelight." They continued to chat for some time; I felt as though I were some distance away. Was – could it be? Brigit had been acting oddly recently, I'd noticed. Could she have fallen for Andrew? The more I watched them the more likely it seemed, not that Andrew seemed to return her affection at all. But then, he was more interested in Quidditch.

Three days later we entered Indian Summer, a heat wave that occurs, now and then, in September. It was so warm that the Quidditch players had to keep stopping practice to jump in the lake and cool off, and many of the school owls refused to fly. My owl, Weasel, was better trained, however, and one evening arrived with a package from my mother. It bore a note: Dear Lewis, I was going through some old boxes when I found this. Your father wanted you to have it; it was his way of ensuring that he could explain to you why he chose as he did, even if he were dead. I have not opened it and do not know what it says, but I hope it answers some of the questions you have had about your father over the years.

I opened the inside package slowly. There was a letter and a photograph, wizarding style of course, of my father and mother, with me as a two year old. It couldn't have been taken long before my father's murder. The letter was addressed to me in unfamiliar handwriting.

Dear Lewis- I write this hoping you will never read it. Right now you're lying in your bed, asleep upstairs, and I am being perhaps foolishly concerned. But it's dangerous to oppose Voldemort these days. More of us are killed every day, and there's no telling who to trust. I know very well that I may not live to see you grown. If I do not, I want you to understand why I chose as I did.

It would have been easy for me to allow others to fight Voldemort in my place. Certainly no one would have blamed me with my crippled leg and terrible eyesight. But I could hardly let that happen. I'm going to say something that you may not understand now but will someday, if I am right in a peculiar theory of mine. I started with the firm conviction that, when I came to the end, I wanted to regret the things I had done, not the things I had not done.

As I said, I doubt you understand that. But, as I said, if I am correct someday you will. Perhaps your choice will be other than mine – certainly there is no shame in regretting what you have not done. But the above line has been my motto, my way of life, from the time I was in my last year at Hogwarts to, hopefully, the day I will die.

That's me, in as few words as I can express it. I hope you understand, and that you can forgive me for not being there for you. One thing: the Pool of Sterger will show you the truth, if you can accept it.

Your father,

Hal Kieran.

I put the letter down and stared at it, emotions full and mixed. I had tuned out the noises around me in the common room, so it wasn't until I felt a hand on my shoulder that I realized someone was behind me. I turned; it was Brigit.

"Are you all right?" she asked, face full of concern for me. She glanced at the letter and then away. "You look upset."

"It's a letter my father wrote me before he died," I explained. "I don't really understand what he means."

"Would it help if I looked?" she asked.

"Well – yes," I said, handing her the parchment. She read it slowly, then put it down.

"We should find out what the Pool of Sterger is first of all." She sat down and began to tick off items on her fingers. "One; your father seems to be trying to send you a message, but for some reason he didn't write it out plain. Two: it's obvious that the Pool of Sterger has something to do with it. I'm not sure what, but we're going to find out." She flashed a brilliant smile at me and I returned it, feeling much better. "Three; if he's not telling you what he wants you to do outright, it's probably something dangerous, illegal, or secret – possibly all three. So we're not going to ask anyone for help unless we absolutely have to."

"Where should we start?" I asked, though there was really only one answer.

"The library." She sighed, and I knew why; neither of us cared for the place with its musty books and dim, warm ambiance. "So let's go, we've got an hour before lights out."

~~

Lewis and Brigit began spending a lot of time alone together after the Cornish Pixie trick, and we all figured we knew why. But when they stopped showing up for Quidditch practice I started to get worried. One afternoon I looked up into the stands and the seats were empty except for a dark-haired girl who I recognized as Lucy Smith, a Unicorn. After the practice she was still there, so I approached her. Was she spying for their House team?

"Hello," I said awkwardly. She looked at me and smiled. For some reason that smile reminded me of something. Her glasses were thick and slightly colored, so they shaded her eyes, making it difficult to see what she was thinking.

"Hello," she replied in a low voice. "I was watching you practice. You fly marvelously."

"Thanks." I was surprised. And how do you answer a compliment like that to ask whether she's been spying? "Ah, any particular reason why you're watching this practice?"

"I like to see your team fly," she said. "I've got a bet on Dragon to win the Inter-House Quidditch Cup, you know. Unicorn's team is pathetic, they're no fun to watch at all."

"I know," I said. "I suppose we'll tromp them in our game –ah, sorry, I forgot for a second."

"It doesn't matter," she assured me, waving her hand. "I know you'll tromp them." Again the smile, the almost wistful, mysterious smile. Her right hand went to her glasses, touched them, then convulsed and returned to her lap. Her cheeks went red. "Ah, I was wondering," she began slowly, "if you have a partner for the, er, Halloween Ball?" Her words came out in a rush.

"No, I don't." I frowned, wondering if she were possibly – no, surely – then again, if she were, she was rather pretty. I'd never noticed it before, but that smile, that absolutely maddening smile… "Do you?"

"No," she said, looking at her feet.

"Would you, ah, like to come with me?" I managed, not really knowing why I was asking her, except that for some reason I desperately wanted to see her smile again. I was rewarded; her head swept up and the smile appeared.

"Yes," she said. "I'd like that very much."

"That's wonderful to hear. I hope you'll, um, have enough time to get ready to go?" Which was absolutely a ridiculous thing to say; the ball was over a month away. Good heavens, what had she done to me?

"Don't worry, I will." She stood up. "I'd better go in to dinner now." She started off, looking back halfway to the steps. "And good luck against Unicorn on Saturday." I watched her go. She really meant it about the good luck, I could tell, which wiped out my suspicion that she might have been sent by the Unicorn team to befuddle me before the match – not that she could have, of course. What was a mere girl, mysterious smile or no, next to Quidditch?

But that smile haunted me for days. I found myself finding excuses to speak to her in the hall, in hopes of seeing her smile. I knew it reminded me of something, but I didn't know what.

~~

Those Cornish Pixies were an insult to my honor. Kieran and O'Hare had gone too far this time, and I wanted revenge. But I was being watched, I knew. What would the spies think of me taking petty revenge? I had to come up with a good plan, a very good plan, one that would promote me in the eyes of the Death Eaters.

I knew that those two were up to something; they spent a lot of time in the library. Most of the school thought they were in love; I knew better. Kieran didn't have the faintest clue that O'Hare was swooning at the very sight of him, though it was rather sickening to observe in our, thankfully few, shared classes. So if they weren't 'making out' as the hideous Muggle phrase was, what were they doing? I determined to spy on them.

One night in early October I concealed myself among the stacks of books and waited for my so-despised foes to enter. They never even thought to check to see if they were being watched, something every Manticore does instinctively. No doubt that's why so many of us are successful and serving the Dark Lord.

I was not close enough to hear their conversation, which was probably just as well, knowing their intellectual skills, but I did manage to observe what book they were reading. And as they left the library Kieran dropped a paper without noticing it. Once he'd left I hurried and picked it up. It read; Pool of Sterger. No reference in Muggle mythology. No reference in recent wizarding events. Possibly Dark magic?

So they had learned of the Pool of Sterger! I wondered how. Not that even I knew much about it, but I had overheard my father and some of his colleagues discussing the matter. They had said it should be destroyed, but one of them who I did not know had laughed and asked how they planned to do such a thing, whereupon the conversation turned to other matters. The other things I had learned had been from stealing glances at my father's book. It was some sort of very powerful magical device, not Dark magic as the fools so ignorantly supposed, but somehow dangerous. No doubt that was why we didn't learn about it in school; the Headmaster seemed intent on preventing us from learning anything remotely dangerous. He was a fool too.

I left the paper where it was in case Kieran came back. Then I headed for my dorm and thought hard. Perhaps I – perhaps if I kept a close watch on Kieran and O'Hare they'd lead me to the Pool. Then I could learn its secrets and even destroy it. That would certainly prove my worth.

I smiled, a rare thing, I know, for me to do, and lay on my bed, not bothering to undress. And perhaps, if this Pool was so dangerous, those two fools might suffer an accident along the way that wasn't quite so accidental. Revenge is sweet. Very sweet.

~~

I did not understand my own daring. To ask Andrew to the Halloween Ball! How could I have done such a thing? And I had come perilously close to using Veela magic, too. I knew that Veela can charm men with their eyes. That's why I wear colored glasses. Had I removed them, I could have entranced Andrew, who I loved, as easily as a Siren with her voice.

But he would go with me! And I had not had to use Veela magic. I was still human. I looked forward to the ball as eagerly as a small child looks forward to Christmas. Not that I had had a very happy early childhood.

I had never known my father, and my mother had died when I was very young, leaving me to drift about on my own. I was placed in several different foster homes. Each set of foster parents knew my heritage and promised not to treat me differently from other children but each one failed. They let it slip, sometimes, and the other children tormented me. They said I was an animal, that I was inferior, because I wasn't human. And I knew, knew, they were right.

I wasn't human, I was a member of a species that lived by enticing human men. I was inferior. I didn't want to be Veela.

Then I arrived at my last foster home. This couple was different. They were older and had had a son of their own many years before. He had been bitten by a werewolf and they had been told by most people they knew to, to get rid of him. But they had refused, had built a secure room in their home for him, and raised him as much as they could as a human child. But he had died at the age of sixteen, tragically; the family of a girl he had asked out discovered his secret, and her enraged father and older brothers arrived one night, under the cover of darkness, and left him with a silver dagger through his heart. They had not been punished, either. My foster parents had moved far from their old home and then opened their hearts to needy children. To me.

My foster mother, who I soon came to think of as my real mother, taught me to be human. She dyed my hair for me, cut it short, got me my glasses and taught me to hide my beauty. She instructed me in how to behave, on how to never use my Veela magic. And it was she who made me go to school.

But though I looked and acted human, sometimes my Veela heritage shone through. Once I caught myself smiling an odd, compelling smile; I schooled myself to never do so again. And in my dreams, I could hear singing, Veela singing, and I longed to join in.

But I never could.

~~

Lewis and I had probably gone through two hundred books searching for the slightest mention of the Pool of Sterger by the time the first Quidditch match of the year rolled around. It was Dragon versus Unicorn and though everyone in the school was betting on Dragon for a sure win, no one decided not to come. I did suggest once that with the rest of the school out of our way we might find something important, but Lewis reminded me that neither of us had ever missed a Quidditch match before, that Andrew was our friend, and that we wanted to see the match too, so we went.

Catherine Ferell does commentary for matches; she's a sixth-year Sphinx student, bright, pretty, and knows a lot of Quidditch. As the brooms rose into the air, I noticed a girl sitting in front of me, her eyes fixed on one player. What on earth was Lucy Smith, a Unicorn, doing in the Dragon section? And why had she suddenly cheered as Dragon scored its first goal? I remembered that I had noticed her talking to Andrew quite often recently and wondered exactly what was going on with this girl. She was very odd, I'd always known, and somehow she reminded me of something.

"-Score is Dragon fifty, Unicorn thirty," Ferell's voice called out. I wrenched my attention from Lucy back to the game.

The game stayed fairly close for a while, but slowly Dragon began to pull further ahead. Above, Andrew and the Unicorn Seeker, Emily Trimble, circled like a pair of hawks. Just as the clock struck noon, Andrew and Emily began a long, steep dive. Obviously they'd seen the Snitch. The crowds rose in the stands, holding their breath as one… neither Seeker seemed to be ahead of the other. Then suddenly they both pulled out of the dive. Confusion erupted in the stands. "-Who's got it?" "Couldn't tell." "Definitely Trimble." "-Are you nuts? I saw the Dragon Seeker waving it around!" "Neither got it, it got away-"

But Catherine Ferell's voice rang loud over the hubbub. "Andrew Miller's got the Snitch! 240-70, Dragon!" The stands erupted with Dragons and our supporters cheering.

Lewis wouldn't skip the victory party to work, either. "Are you nuts? They'd know we were up to something important for sure if we did that. Besides, I promised we'd get the food."

"All right then, I was just asking." I sighed. "What's the plan this time? One of us cause a distraction, or we both just sneak around quietly?"

"Let's both go; I think we're going to need lots of stuff. Just act normal."

"You don't have to tell me that!" We headed for the corridor where the kitchen was located.

"I've got an idea," Lewis said abruptly as we walked. "We can skip the Halloween Ball. That'll be a good time to do some research."

"Now you're the crazy one," I remarked. "First of all, since only seventh years, or invited guests, go to the dance, most of the school will not be out of the way. Second, if not showing up for the party is a bad idea, not showing up for the dance is too. Everyone's going!"

"Are you?" he asked suddenly, glancing at me. I tried to keep my face from showing anything as I replied.

"Well, no one's asked me," I said casually. Because they're all sure I'm going with you, of course.

"No one?" He looked confused. "I thought Andrew-"

"He said that he'd asked someone," I remembered. "But it wasn't me. Don't know why it should have been me, either. He's Quidditch Captain, just about any girl would agree to go with him, including a lot who are much prettier than me."

"Oh." Lewis closed his mouth so abruptly that he looked like a fish. "Ah, here we are, the kitchens." He knocked on a suit of armor, it stomped on a flagstone, and a trapdoor opened up, showing the kitchens below us.

We were greeted by the usual mob of house-elfs, all happy and thrilled to see us. When we explained what we needed, about thirty rushed off to serve us and were back three minutes later with baskets full of food.

"Thanks a lot!" Lewis said as we left. "You've been wonderful helps!" They smiled happily at us as we left.

We got back without incident and were greeted with the usual approval from the crowds. You'd think they didn't feed us at Stellanova to see the way that food vanished. Andrew struggled through the crowd to see us; his hands were full o food and more was being pressed upon him by admiring fans.

"I didn't see you at the match," he said frowning. "Were you there?"

"Of course," Lewis said. "Right behind this Unicorn girl who was cheering us on, for some reason."

"Which Unicorn girl?" Andrew asked. He looked as if he expected the answer would be no surprise. Lewis looked blank. "I can't remember her name-"

"Lucy Smith," I filled in. Andrew grinned.

"Yeah, her… ah, well, I'm going with her to the Halloween dance, so maybe that's why she was cheering for us."

"That makes sense," I agreed. "So what's she like? I've only had a few conversations with her…"

"I don't think I can really say," Andrew said, frowning. "There's something mysterious about her." Which was exactly what I had been thinking. "Maybe I could ask her, or something…"

"I'd offer to help, of course," Lewis said dryly, "But I'm afraid we've already got enough, ah, extracurricular material on our own."

Andrew grinned. "Coming up with a new scheme, eh? No, I won't ask you anything, just alert me before the show gets underway." He hurried off to the corner where the rest of his team was congregated.

Lewis and I looked at each other. "You know, people are going to think it odd if we don't pull something soon," I stated.

"The curse of our reputation." Lewis grinned. "We'll work something out. Did you know Andrew was going with that Lucy?"

"No, of course not." I was surprised at his question. "I'd have told you when we saw her at the match."

"Oh, right." He seemed to be thinking of something else. Finally, he spoke again. "I suppose you really are right about the dance, and we don't want anyone to think we're up to something."

"That's how I see it." I was puzzled, as I am usually able to see how his mind is working, but this time I had not a clue.

"Let's at least go together then." It took me a second to see what he was saying, then I grinned.

"So you're asking me to the Halloween Ball?"

"Brigit, don't put it that way… you sound like everyone else, like we're going together!"

"So how am I supposed to put it? Are you asking me or not?"

"Yeah, I guess I am asking you." He looked a bit surprised at himself. "If you want to come with me, I mean, if not you don't have to."

"Of course I'll go with you," you blind fool, I didn't add.

"Okay, good. And hey, I just thought – what if we rig all the Manticores' cauldrons to explode, next Potions class?"

"That'll rather limit the suspects," I pointed out dryly.

"They already know who causes everything," Lewis said stubbornly. "Besides, it'll be worth it! Imagine the look on Dorian Thomas' smug face!"

"All right." I yielded, and couldn't keep a grin off my face at the mental picture his words summoned.

~~

It seemed the only thing any seventh year could think about was that stupid dance. Even those in Manticore! I must have been asked twenty times a week who I was going with before I gave up and asked Eleanor Figg, a girl in my House with irreproachable family. But still it jarred me. Was I the only student in the school with more important things to think about?

As Dorian Thomas, only scion of one of the best families in the country, as well as the best student in Manticore, I felt I was above such foolish concerns… and the fact that I hadn't been able to discover who or what in the school was a spy for Lord Voldemort didn't put a smile on my face. So I scowled at people more often than I usually do, and regretted it when Eleanor, in her simpering manner, told me that I looked 'just so mature!' when I did that.

Things just kept going from bad to worse. The Dragons became insufferable after their Quidditch team beat those lousy Unicorns… I've never made up my mind which I hate more, Dragons with their arrogant righteousness, or Unicorns with their smug idiocy. Then Kieran and his little girlfriend did something in Potions and managed to melt all our cauldrons… looking as puzzled as the rest of us as acid etched its way across the floor and we had to put our Hovering Charms to use. Of course they weren't punished, they always get away with things, even though everyone knows who does it. Whereas if I were to step a toe out of line I have no doubt that I'd get detention instantly. It's favoritism, pure and simple. I'd have to get back at them somehow.

But October began to pass and Halloween approached. At least it'd be over soon. I still spied on Kieran, too; he and O'Hare didn't seem to make much progress but they kept looking, so I kept watching. I considered writing to my father but he'd be sure to ask why I wanted to know and I wasn't ready to tell him yet. Then I got a brilliant idea. I could lead Kieran into a trap by allowing him to 'overhear' a conversation that I'd stage, about the Pool of Sterger. All I had to do was find someone to help me and decide what the best plan was. What would get the two of them massive detention? Or better, expelled.

I found my ally in Aaron Shaw, a sixth year in my House who, naturally, looked up to me. It didn't take much persuading or explaining to get him to perform flawlessly. All we had to do now was set up a trap for those two morons to walk into, and nothing would go wrong. It was the perfect plan.

~~

Three days before Halloween, Brigit and I finally found what we had been looking for in a very old text. Actually, Brigit found it and called me over.

"Lewis! I've found something!"

"What?" I left the moldering tome I had been examining and peered over her shoulder. She stood so that I could see better. Shoulder-to-shoulder, we read the page. It wasn't much, but it was something.

The Pool of Sterger is a part of our most ancient myths, though some even today insist that it is indeed fact. The legends say that long ago a young woman betrayed the man she loved out of fear for her own life and he was killed. Heartbroken, she fled weeping into the forest, and came at last to a glen far from human habitation. There she died, but the tears she shed became, magically, a pool, the Pool of Sterger, named for the girl's betrayed love, or so it is said. To this day, anyone who looks into the pool will see­­

The paragraph broke off there because the page had faded. There was more below.

…ol of Sterger is said to appear to any who seek it properly. According to tradition, the seeker must search while the moon is half-full, after sunset, on a night when stars are clearly visible. Keep the North Star to your left and walk a mile straight while reciting spells to summon mist and fog. The Pool will then appear. It must be noted that this is based on hearsay and cannot be relied upon; there is not even any real evidence that the Pool exists.

"We did it!" I yelled, and hugged Brigit. She stiffened in surprise, then hugged me back. Suddenly I felt rather peculiar and let her go, looking away, back at the book.

"Are you sure, though?" she asked after a moment. "This book isn't very certain, you know."

"My dad was sure," I said softly. "That's enough for me. When is the moon going to be half-full?"

"Let me think." She paused. "Right around Halloween. We can easily go the day after."

"Or we could go right after we leave the ball," I suggested. "Nobody would notice us slipping out."

"That sounds workable." She grimaced. "But if we're not even going back to change I'll be practicing some transfiguration spells. I'm not running around at night in high heels."

"You don't have to come," I said. "I could go by myself."

"After all the work I've done? No way. Besides, I want to see just what this here pool reveals." She grinned. "Now, let's go. It's late."

On the way out of the library we both froze, because we heard voices. Though we weren't actually doing anything against the rules, it had become a habit for both of us. One voice I recognized instantly and from Brigit's frozen expression, she did too. Dorian Thomas was discussing something with, no doubt, another Manticore.

"…And my father says that it's perfectly impossible for anyone to find out about the Pool of Sterger," he was saying. "Why, after all, only about three people other than him know that it's here – I shouldn't have told you that."

"Oh, come on Dorian, I'm not going to tell anyone. Let me in on it, you know I'm on your side."

"Well, as I was saying, the pool is actually here, on these very same grounds." I could almost hear a smug grin in Dorian's tone. "To the north, within the Encircling Woods, right about where we saw those unicorns that time. Father had me go there just last week and…" the voices began to trail off as their speakers moved away from us. I turned to Brigit and grinned.

"What a dork!"

"I don't understand what you mean by that," she said. "Of course he was lying, he doesn't have a clue about it."

"Right, but I'll give you odds he was trying to trap us." I could feel my grin spreading. "He knew we were here. Somehow he found out we were looking for the pool, and he was trying to trap us. Now, however, the tables are going to be turned."

"Right." She began a grin of her own. "I think we may need help on this one. Andrew?"

"I think the entire Quidditch team; we won't tell them everything, just that it's a joke." They'd all helped us before and I was sure they'd do so again.

"You want us to dig holes in the Encircling Woods?" Andrew asked, amazed. "Are you serious?"

"Perfectly," I said. "It's a trap for our good friend Dorian. The holes are just your part. I've got them all marked out on the map. Can you do it?"

"Of course; if anyone asks what we're doing I'll just say 'practice' vaguely until they buzz off." Andrew grinned. "But I want to see this prank."

"We'll get photos," Brigit promised. "Just have it done before Halloween."

"We'll get it done today; I think we know some good charms, and perhaps we can round up a few Nifflers." Andrew took the map and set off to find his team.

Halloween came at last and the entire school seemed delighted. The traditional feast at Stellanova is held at lunch, with the rest of the day off, and the ball for seventh years at eight o'clock. The common room was packed by seven with younger students waiting to see the couples off and seventh year boys waiting for their partners.

Brigit looked absolutely stunning in robes of dark green; her black hair was pulled up and clipped behind her head with a gold hairclip. She smiled as she took my arm.

"I'm wearing sandals," she said softly, "fancy looking but comfortable to walk in, so we can leave whenever you like."

"I think we should probably stay for a few dances, if you don't mind," I said with a smile of my own. "Since I have the most lovely partner at the ball I think it would be a shame not to dance a few songs."

Her smile broadened. "That was incredibly sweet of you," she said.

"I meant it." And I did. Brigit was, I had realized, more than just a great partner in pranks and research. But I was so sure she was in love with Andrew… who didn't seem to care for her at all. Still, for tonight she was my date, and as we entered the Hall I felt as pleased as could be.

I noticed, as we were dancing, that Brigit kept glancing at Andrew and Lucy, and tried to stifle the bitter jealousy that threatened to fill me. Suddenly, Brigit let out a gasp.

"What is it?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No – listen, I'll be back in a minute. Wait here." As the music stopped, she hurried over to Andrew and Lucy. I saw her saying something, and then Lucy, a puzzled look on her face, followed her from the room. Andrew watched them go and then came over to me.

"What was that?" he asked, bewildered.

"Not a clue," I sighed. "Girl stuff, I suppose." And we shared a glance that said just how bizarre it seemed girls could be sometimes.

~~

As soon as we were well away from everyone, I pulled Lucy into a darkened classroom. "You're a Veela, aren't you?" I stated, glaring at her; my anger must have showed in my face. I don't know what I expected her to say, perhaps a denial of everything. But she simply sighed and looked at the floor.

"I suppose it was too much to expect that no one would find out." She sounded completely resigned.

"And you – you pretend to be human? They let you come to school and everything?" I couldn't believe it. I knew about Veela, my mother had told me stories since I was four, and the idea that one of them was in the same school with me was horrifying. I felt that my anger was righteous indignation. How could Stellanova allow someone like her in? "And what have you done to Andrew?"

"I did nothing to him or anyone else," she said dully. "I never used any Veela magic, never."

"I'm supposed to believe that? I know what you're like, Veela. I know what your kind does. Andrew's my friend, you know, and I don't like people deceiving him as you have. Do the teachers know?"

"Yes, of course they know!" Something seemed to have changed inside Lucy; I'd never once seen her like this. Her head came up and there was fire in her eyes. "They know! But I have never once used Veela charms, never been anything other than human! I didn't ask to be Veela, you know. All I wanted was a normal life, a human life."

Something in me wanted to feel sorry for her, but something else made me say "That makes it even worse – your kind trying to be human! It's preposterous. You aren't human, and trying to pretend just makes your – just makes you worse."

"" I suppose you're going to tell everyone?" She still sounded dull, resigned – inhuman. I felt disgust for her well up in me.

"At least Andrew; he ought to know, don't you think? We'll see about the rest later." I met her gaze, smiling slightly. She stared at me for a moment, then ran from the room, crying. I saw her turn away from the lighted Hall toward the dormitories.

I made my way back to the dance, feeling that I'd done what I should. How dare someone like her… well, it didn't bear thinking about. Lewis was waiting outside the door. He looked curious.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"I'll tell you another time," I said. "I don't feel like any more dancing. Why don't we go now?"

"All right then," he agreed, and we set off through the mostly darkened castle.

~~

I was completely bewildered by everything going on that night. First Brigit hauled Lucy off, then Lewis left, and then I saw Dorian following them. I knew he was up to no good; that's the way he always is, and I wanted to let my friends know… besides, he might be about to walk into our traps and I didn't want to miss that. So I followed him.

The half-moon lit some of the path as I hurried into the forest, doing my best to keep Dorian in sight. He seemed to have no trouble finding his way, but I couldn't see very far. I thought of lighting my wand, already in my hand, but was afraid he'd notice, so I just tripped my way along, running into thorns, roots, and the occasional tree limb. The forest looks very dark at night, so I almost missed seeing that we were coming to the part of the forest where my team had laid traps. I grinned; ahead of me, Dorian had just let out a muffled exclamation. He must have found the first. I hurried along the edge of the area, hoping to get ahead of him.

Mist began to form around my legs and I hit more rocks and stubbed my toe because I could not see the path. Ahead of me I could hear low voices. It must be Lewis and Brigit, though I had no idea, now, what they were doing. The mist was growing thicker; I held up my wand and was about to light it when my foot caught on a root, I tripped, and fell flat on my face. I heard a sickening snap.

My wand had broken beneath me; the dragon heartstring was clearly visible in both halves. I'd never manage a spell with it now.

"Great. Just great." I shoved it into my belt. I could still hear the voices but the fog was now incredibly thick and I could see nothing. "Guess I'd better find Lewis and make him find the way out." My voice sounded small and weak in against the fog and darkness. Putting my hands out in front of me, like a child playing Blind-Man's-Bluff, I headed for the voices.

I must have wandered around for twenty minutes before, abruptly, the fog ended. It was like a wall behind me, but ahead of me the moon shone into a glen. A pool of water glinted silver in the middle, and two dark figures were stooped over it at the far end. They had to be Lewis and Brigit; who else could they be? I was about to call out to them when I heard something behind me. Spinning around, I saw Dorian. From the look of him he'd hit our traps hard. There was an angry glint in his eyes, but I didn't care – I laughed. He looked a sight, too. I laughed – until he raised his wand and pointed it at my head.

~~

I cursed myself a thousand times for my weakness. There was nothing more I could do. Brigit had said she would tell Andrew what I was, and surely she'd tell the rest of the school too. I should go to the headmaster tonight and have him send me home. I should run away and go live as a Muggle somewhere. I could not stay here any longer.

But how could I leave? I wanted Andrew to understand, so desperately wanted to tell him –

So why not? It would be hard, but wouldn't it be better than seeing the accusation in his eyes when he found out from someone else? He might not understand, but perhaps he could forgive me… no, that wasn't going to happen. But at least it would be easier for me than waiting for the blow to fall like a headman's axe. I turned around on the stairs and went to find Andrew.

He wasn't at the dance anymore; Eleanor Briggs told me he'd left ten minutes ago. "I saw him go outside," she said. I thanked her and hurried out.

The night was full of stars; as I watched one fell, just as all my hopes and dreams had fallen into darkness this very night. I wrenched my eyes away and performed a locating charm; my wand would lead me to Andrew.

It took me into the forest, and I wondered why he was in here, anyway. It was dark, and fog was curling around my ankles. The fog got worse, too, as I got in further, and something told me this wasn't ordinary fog, but a magic spell. Had Andrew had anything to do with this? I didn't know.

Finally I stumbled out of the fog into a grove –and froze. There was Andrew, not far from me, his face full of amusement changing abruptly to horror. Dorian Thomas, who was covered in mud, rotten fruit, and what looked like the remains of several fireworks, had his wand pointed at Andrew's head. Across a pond, I could see Lewis and Brigit. They'd just realized what was going on and it seemed Lewis was fumbling for his wand.

"I hate you," Dorian was saying. His voice was full of anger – and he sounded insane. "I hate all of you. You've plagued me ever since I've come to this school. You get the best grades without trying. You get the awards and accolades. And I get nothing. Well, that's going to change. I've got some new friends now, powerful friends. And I don't have to put up with any of you anymore." He laughed, and it was an insane cackle. "You're such insignificant idiots, anyway. I'll make it look as if it was a big accident, the three of you trying to do some illegal spell and it backfired." Lewis could not seem to get his wand from its holder and Dorian was laughing again. "I'm going to kill you all!" He lowered his wand until it pointed at Andrew's heart; Andrew could only stare dumbly. "Avada-"

"NO!"

~~

It seemed hopeless; Dorian had managed to snatch Brigit's wand from her, and curse mine so I could not get hold of it, and we couldn't just leave Andrew. Dorian held all the cards and he knew it. It seemed so futile to die now, now that I knew what it was that my father had meant and what I meant to do about it. Dorian was mad, it was plain, but he could kill us, and he was going to. He pointed his wand at Andrew and began to speak the Killing Curse.

Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, there was a scream, and a pale shape darted across the clearing in front of Dorian. I recognized Lucy in one confused moment when everything seemed to slow down. Dorian's curse hit her, and she fell. He stared at her body, Andrew yelled something and rushed at him, and I was suddenly able to grab my wand.

"Stupefy!" I shouted, and Dorian fell immovable. I snatched his wand and hurried to the fallen girl. Brigit was already there, and Andrew was kneeling at Lucy's side. Her eyes were open and she was still breathing, but not for long.

"So… sorry," she said softly. "Should have said - Andrew, should have told you I'm a Veela."

"Don't try to speak," Andrew said. " Just hang on – Lewis, figure something out here!"

"But I really do love you," Lucy said, "I wanted you to love... me, but I never did anything to you…"

"I do love you," Andrew said, his voice breaking, and Lucy smiled. And then her eyes went wide and vacant and she drew no more breaths.

"No!" Andrew's face was pale and he looked dead himself. "No, no!"

I looked at Brigit and saw silent tears running down her face. The reality of what had happened tonight had not yet sunk in, for me, I just felt numb.

"We'd better get back to the castle," I said finally. I turned to look for Dorian, and was shocked; he was gone. There was no sign at all of him.

~~

I'll never know how I got back to the castle that night. I led the way while Andrew and Lewis carried Lucy's body, hating myself every step of the way, just as the pool had told me.

You see, when I'd looked into the Pool of Sterger earlier that night, I'd realized what it did. It showed the one thing I would most regret when my life was done, and what I saw was me, telling Lucy that I knew what she was, that she wasn't human. And then Dorian had come and tried to kill us, and Lucy – brave Lucy, noble Lucy – had saved us all. How could I have been so blind? I'd known Lucy for years, not well, it's true, but I'd known her. When had she ever been less than human? So why had I reacted that way? Why had I been so cruel? And how would I live with myself?

Our news put the school into an uproar. A search for Dorian was immediately organized, and men from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement showed up within hours to question the three of us. The next few days are fuzzy in my mind; I attended no classes, ate little, spent most of my time being questioned, and slept rarely. My dreams were plagued with the image of Lucy taking the fatal curse.

After about three days the rest of the school got back to its normal routine. Lucy's parents came for her body; I saw her mother weeping and couldn't bring myself to speak to her. Everyone else went to class, even Lewis and Andrew, but not me. I spent all my time in my dorm or the common room, because I couldn't face the truth. I'd caused Lucy's death as surely as if I'd said the fatal curse myself. If I hadn't said what I had she'd never have left the dance. She'd be alive right now. It was my fault.

The door to the common room swung open, interrupting my thoughts. Lewis had his arms full of books, which he dropped on the table.

"There," he said roughly. "Your assignments, plus notes. If you're not coming to class you might as well get started on them."

"What's the point?" I asked bitterly. "I don't deserve to graduate."

"Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself?"

I looked up, shocked. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself! I'm ashamed! If I had any courage, I'd leave school right now and live as a Muggle! You know what I said!" I'd confessed to Andrew and Lewis days ago.

"Yes, I know. And I know this. Lucy gave her life to save ours, and you're wasting her gift. You made a mistake – well, everyone makes them, we have to move on, that's all."

"I can't! That pool showed me that I'd regret this for the rest of my life!"

"And maybe it's right." He looked sternly at me. "But that doesn't mean you have to wallow in it. You could do something to make up for it."

"I can't. Lucy's dead."

"What would she want you to do?"

I thought for a long moment. "I don't know," I admitted. "But I could – I could honor her memory. I could try to help get rid of the – the kind of prejudice I had."

"You could," he agreed. "But you'd better start by coming to class."

"I will," I said. "I will." Then something occurred to me. "Lewis, what did you see in that pool?"

"Something I don't plan to allow myself to regret," he said briefly. "It was more a 'you will regret if you don't do this' thing." He began to head for the door.

"But what was it?" I pressed. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, I'm going to marry you and we're going to have a joke shop," he said matter-of-factly. "That's what I decided… and we'll try to help Veela, too."

"Is that all?" I asked, stunned.

"Well, we'll start with Veela, anyway. I hear the werewolves need help, too, and giants. We'll get around to them."

"You're awfully sure of yourself."

"I'm not going to waste any more time…Lucy showed me that. I don't have any idea how much time I've got left, but that's what I plan to do with it. And you?'

"Oh, well," I said, smiling for the first time since Halloween, "Carpe diem, as my grandmother used to say. We might as well."

Epilogue

Dorian Thomas was 'found dead' a few weeks later, in Idaho somewhere. He left a note, saying that he'd realized what he'd done and couldn't live with himself. Investigations into just where he'd learned the Killing Curse revealed several Dark Wizards, including Dorian's father. All received life terms in prison.

Andrew Miller never married; he always found himself haunted by the memory of the girl with the sad, sweet smile. He also found that his dream of playing Quidditch was no longer what it had been. Instead he dedicated his life to fighting the Dark Arts. He became quite famous and decorated in the struggle against Voldemort, and many years later he became Headmaster of Stellanova.

Lewis Kieran and Brigit O'Hare married some five years after graduation. They balanced their life between their joke company, which eventually merged with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to dominate two continents, and their dedication to fighting prejudice. Several new laws came into being because of their efforts, commonly called the 'Lucy Laws' because of the Veela who had inspired them.

The End