Sunset, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys were the only Gryffindor students at Hogwarts that winter holiday, but the Gryffindor common room was particularly empty that evening. Only Percy was sitting in a corner, with his starchart out.

“Where is everyone?” Sunset asked from halfway across the room.

“Hm?” a distracted Percy said, slightly annoyed at the interruption. “Oh, I think Hermione ate something bad and had to go to the hospital wing, and Harry and Ron are with her. Fred, George, and Ginny are… somewhere, but they’d better be back in time for curfew, I’m about to go on my rounds.”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, tersely, deciding not to bother him any more.

The evening became very uneventful. The only one Sunset shared her dorm with was now absent, and deciding against Percy’s company, she instead walked up the second year girls dormitory, conjured up an armchair, footrest, and a blanket, and sat down in front of the fireplace.

A faint chime came from Sunset’s bag, and she lifted up her book and turned to the page she and Celestia had last used to correspond with.

How were things at the Malfoys?

Sunset narrowed her eyes, before leaning forward and taking a whiff.

Did Lucius steal pages from my book?

Celestia wrote calmly, with the same tempo she spoke with when amused.

He did, and rebound them to a separate one. I did the same over here. What did you think of him? Of them? In fact, tell me all you’ve learned of them.

Sunset scoffed, amused.

Well, they’re rich. Aristocrats.

Naturally.

Let’s see…
Father: Lucius. Blonde. Slightly above average height. Slytherin house.
Mother: Narcissa. Blonde. Average height. Slytherin house.
Son: Draco. Blonde. 12 years old. Average height. Slytherin house.
Grandfather: Name unknown. Deceased.
Grand Uncle: Name unknown. Deceased.
Servant: Dobby. A “House Elf”, a creature of short stature. Details unknown. Treated rudely.

Did I tell you about the Hogwarts school houses? They can be pretty important to some people. Slytherin is supposed to be the cunning one.

Associates: The Crabbe and the Goyle family. The Hogwarts potions teacher and head of Slytherin house, Severus Snape. Many others; Lucius strikes me as an “upstanding member of the community”.

Lives in a mansion called Malfoy Manor, and has many more holdings. Old family, dating back to before the nobility started even using the local language.

Sunset kept writing down the details she remembered and the observations she felt worth sharing, and wondered how much Draco had been able to suss out about herself.

So what did Lucius want?

Power.

Of course. And naturally you are going to refrain from using any information I give you about his family and house when arranging strange scenarios with insightful lessons hidden deep within?

Oh, Sunset. You know I cannot promise that.

Sunset felt something sting in her chest, when reminded of Celestia and perceived promises.

Just as she felt that Celestia was about to ask if she was still there, Sunset put her pen back on the page.

Don’t tell him, or anyone else, that I’m a unicorn, or that we’re ponies. I’m trying to keep a low profile.

Still so secretive?

Sunset looked at the page, slightly taken aback.

What do you mean?

You never told anypony but me about yourself. Cadence kept asking, and you hardly ever said anything.

Sunset wracked her brain, trying to remember.

When?

The few times you ended up eating at the same time and place.

Vague impressions of the pink princess talking floated to the surface of Sunset’s mind.

Why did she want to know?

Oh I shouldn’t speak for her. I could ask her over so you can ask her yourself.

Hardly realising it, the pen in Sunset’s magical aura hurried to scribble an answer, almost automatically, surprising herself.

Pass.

Oh, Sunset.

But speaking of mutual friendships, you remember how I talked about Twilight Sparkle?

Sunset paused, and focused, but she couldn’t feel any strong emotion about the subject of Celestia’s new student.

A part of her scoffed at the notion of feeling anything special about that.

Yes?

She has some interesting discoveries she’d like to share with you

Sunset frowned slightly.

I see.

Here she comes now.

The book was still for a few moments, before another pony’s style of writing started forming on the page, hesitantly, and a bit nervously.

Hello, Sunset Shimmer. My name is Twilight Sparkle.

And there she was. Celestia’s new student.

After a moment, the text continued to appear, hesitantly… uncertain.

It’s nice to write to you.

This was it. Twilight Sparkle. Her successor.

Sunset had broken with Celestia, and Twilight was now in Sunset’s place. This was the pony that symbolised that Sunset could no longer go back. That whatever Sunset might have gotten from being Celestia’s student was now beyond her forever.

… Or, at least, that’s what Sunset asked herself if she should be feeling.

She raked her own mind, trying to find any hidden negative thoughts about the whole thing, but she kept coming up empty. No jealousy. No resentment. No… shame, even.

After a few moments, Sunset had to cautiously accept the possibility that she… was… fine with this?

Just as she felt Twilight or Celestia was about to write another line, Sunset put her pen to the page, and was still surprised at how truthful her words felt.

Hello, Twilight. It’s nice to write to you too.

Twilight responded, her words coming in faster and more steadily.

I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally mee- communicate with you.

Likewise.

I wish we could have compared notes regarding the- oh right, Princess Celestia is reminding me to tell you about the temporal discrepancies I’ve discovered.

Sunset’s eyes narrowed.

Temporal discrepancies?

Yes. You see, on a hunch, I recreated the arcane pattern of the effect of this book’s primary function, and ran it through a thauma-spectrum-analyzer, and got some unexpected results. I’ve tried using Starswirl’s fourth theorem (diagram will follow) but I’m uncertain of my findings.

Sunset shook her head. She hadn’t buried herself deep in Equestrian magic research and theories for so long, it felt like she figuratively was finally able to get up and stretch her legs.

Have you adjusted for the imperfections in the pattern-recreation effect of the analyzer when recording tandem-enchantments?

Yes.

Taking any thaumaturgical distortions from the source of the secondary effect-point into account?

The book was still for a moment.

No. Goodness, that explains everything. One moment, I’ll just quickly adjust my calculations.

Twilight obviously forgot her quill against the page, because an ink-splotch was growing and enveloping the last word.

I’ve got it! Hold on, let me just paste this onto the next page.

A tightly illustrated web of diagrams and calculations appeared on the next page.

Sunset stared at them in silence for a long moment, following along with the calculations in her head, before realising why Twilight found this so interesting.

As you can see, the effect of the temporal inconsistencies should follow a semi-reliable curve, alternating between increasing and decreasing so long as the portal between us remains closed.

Nicely done. So if this is accurate, which it looks like it is, this should mean that the temporal inconsistency between the two planes of existence should align fairly regularly.

Yes, and I’ve tried calculating the expected opening of the portal on your end, but the nature of the temporal discrepancies makes that difficult to say for sure.

Going through the calculations on my own, it seems like I left Equestria during an upward trend in the differences.

Yes. From your point of view, Equestria has been picking up speed this entire time, and will continue to do so for some time. More time will have passed here than for you when the portals align and open again.

Sunset stopped herself from gripping her pen so hard it snapped.

How much time?

I can’t say for sure yet. Perhaps it will be easier as we get closer, but a few years worth of difference.

Sunset let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t great news, but it wasn’t like Equestria would be in a completely different era the next time she had a chance to go back.

I further speculate that any stable connection will override any unevenness in the flow of time between the two planes of existence.

So does it look to you like I’m writing in slow motion?

Actually no, which is one of the things that strengthen my hypothesis that connections between the planes aligns the flows of time. In our case it’s just a matter of perception of course.

Oh, the princess wishes to speak with you again.

It’s me again, Sunset. How are you feeling?

Sunset bit her lip.

I don’t know. I guess I’m okay.

If you are not sure, I urge you to take the time needed to gain clarity.

Sunset rolled her eyes at the familiar experience of Celestia once again being right.

I guess. It’s getting late. It’s time for bed.

It was nice writing to you, Sunset.

Yes it was. I’m glad you seem to get along well. Goodnight, Sunset.

Likewise, Twilight. Goodnight.

Goodnight, Princess.

Sunset closed her book, and took a moment to stare into the fire.

She had a whole week of semi-privacy considering the tiny number of students that were still at Hogwarts during the holidays, but tomorrow she was going to have detention.

At least she was always comfortable at night when at Hogwarts. It was a tower, the bed was always kept neat and clean, and she had a fireplace.

Sunset stood up, tossed the blanket onto the armchair, and made them and the footrest vanish with a wave of her hand as she walked towards her bed.

—

The general emptiness of the castle was still strong the next morning, as Sunset walked all the way from her bed to the great hall without seeing anyone else.

It wasn’t until she sat down at Gryffindor’s table that she wasn’t alone. Professor Flitwick sat at the faculty table, talking with Professor Sinistra, and he and Sunset nodded at each other. Ginny was slowly eating oatmeal while Percy was chewing toast and reading a book on transfiguration.

“Mm… hullo, Sunset,” Ginny said.

“Mornin’.”

“Good morning,” said Percy, not looking up from his book. “You shouldn’t wander alone, with the attacks and all.”

Sunset just shrugged, and sat down.

“Kinda empty,” she noted, as she poured herself her regular three mugs of coffee, tea, and orange juice.

“Mm, yeah,” Ginny agreed. “I haven’t seen those three from Slytherin, and I think Harry and Ron are, uuuh… actually, I don’t know.”

At that point, Fred and George lumbered into the hall with the kind of grins that spoke volumes.

“Hey, guess what?” Fred, or George, said when they sat down and reached for some toast of their own.

“Something happened to Hermione which you think is hilarious?” Sunset guessed, having put two and two together with what Percy had said yesterday.

“That’s right!” a smiling George said. “How did you know that?”

“I have ways,” Sunset simply said.

“Well she’s turned into some sort of cat.”

Ginny’s eyes widened and, probably not consciously, she let out a sound similar to what Cadence did when she saw a new couple.

“Yep, we saw her when Ron and Harry brought her breakfast. You should’ve seen her when she realised she couldn’t stop swishing her tail when she saw them,” Fred said.

Ginny’s expression intensified further, and Sunset looked a little dubiously to the side. “What’s wrong with having a tail?” she said.

“Ask her what it’s like to be able to move her ears,” George said, before taking a bite out of his toast.

“No need,” Sunset said, shrugging to herself as she took a gulp of orange juice.

—

Aside from the general emptiness of the castle, the day proceeded normally after that. Fred and George were up to their usual clownishness. Percy was studying. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen, and Ginny had presumably gone to see if Hermione liked having head scratches.

In the evening, Sunset knocked on the door to Professor McGonagall’s office for her detention.

“Enter.”

Sunset did so in silence.

“Miss Shimmer,” McGonagall said, not looking up from some papers on her desk.

“Professor,” Sunset said, in an even voice.

McGonagall kept on shuffling through papers in silence. She obviously wanted Sunset to be unbalanced by her cold demeanour. This was a disciplinary affair, and McGonagall was letting Sunset stew in shame, which was pointless. Very few people, across multiple planes of existence, could make Sunset feel guilt through shame.

Besides, this was already McGonagall’s default demeanour.

So Sunset’s incentive to not break the rule was the same as always: Don’t get caught. If you are, you’re going to be very bored.

“Now, Miss Shimmer,” McGonagall said after several minutes, putting her papers down, then stopping and narrowing her eyes when she saw Sunset sitting in a lounge chair that hadn’t been there a few minutes before. “Where did that come from?”

“Where did what come from?” Sunset asked

“That chair.”

Sunset shrugged. “Never seen it before.”

McGonagall’s lips narrowed. “I assume that you have experience with detentions before coming to Hogwarts.”

“No dice, professor,” Sunset simply said, pleased at getting such a rise out of a person such as Minerva McGonagall, and still refusing to reveal anything about herself.

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed slightly further. “Miss Shimmer, you need to work on your manners. I was planning on letting you help Professor Lockhart sort through his mail, but now I’m considering having you help Hagrid feed the castle menagerie.”

“Score,” Sunset said, and immediately stood up, grabbing the lounge chair. “I’ll help Mister Hagrid out right now, and I’ll get rid of this if you don’t want it.”

McGonagall frown was mixed with puzzlement, as her eyes followed Sunset walking out of her office.

Out in the corridor, Sunset glanced around to make sure she was alone, before lightly tossing the chair up in the air, where it vanished in a puff of smoke.

Coming out from behind a corner were Harry and Ron, who stopped in surprise when they saw her, and Ron especially looked at Sunset with suspicion in his eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Sunset was almost taken aback by his tone, and rallied with a shrug. “Detention,” she simply said.

“Where?” Ron immediately asked

Sunset crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow sceptically. “Mister Hagrid’s, what’s it to you?”

Ron and Harry glanced at each other, before looking at Sunset again.

“And we should be… heading back to the tower,” Harry said, a little slowly. “So I guess we’ll... join you for now.”

Sunset gave them a long, sceptical look. “Yeah, you’re acting like you want my company.”

The two boys said nothing. After a moment Sunset just shrugged, and started walking down to the entrance hall.

Harry and Ron followed, making the short walk one of tense, awkward silence.

Once at the entrance hall, Sunset opened one of the large doors and walked outside towards Hagrid’s hut, with Harry and Ron silently watching her from just inside the hall.

The sun had set and the snow was lit by a warm orange glow from the light spilling from the castle windows.

Sunset glanced back, trying to figure out what they were up to, but it seemed more like concern than malevolence.

She brought out her wand and started melting the snow in front of her as she walked, and Harry and Ron eventually shut the door.

Frowning, Sunset continued walking down towards Hagrid’s house as she put a spell to keep her clothes warm, and knocked on his door.

Immediately, there was a great deal of barking and howling from inside. The door opened to reveal Hagrid, and also a large shape that pounced on Sunset, making her take a step back as something warm and wet assaulted her face.

“Ugh… hello, Fang,” Sunset muttered.

“Hullo there, Miss Shimma,” an amused Hagrid said, as he gently and effortlessly pulled Fang off of her.

“Good evening, Mister Hagrid.”

“Oh, just Hagrid will do.”

“Then just Sunset will do for me.”

“Mm, if ye wan’ to,” Hagrid said, and shoved a treacle tart in Fang’s mouth to keep him quiet. “So, what can I do fer ye?”

“Professor McGonagall told me to help you feed the castle menagerie,” Sunset said, making Hagrid look at her in confusion. “For detention,” she clarified.

“Oh. Got yeself into trouble, ‘ave ye?”

Sunset shrugged. “I don’t know. The professor decides that.”

Hagrid just smiled kindly, or so it looked like through his beard at least. “Well, come on then,” he said, throwing on his huge coat and grabbing a lantern as he walked out, followed by fang, then gave Sunset a slightly concerned look. “Ye’re not cold?”

“Nope. Magic,” Sunset simply said.

Hagrid nodded as he trudged through the snow, before Sunset stepped up and started melting it in front of him as they walked towards some storage sheds in the distance.

“Ye’re jus’ like ‘ermoine, you are. Best students the school’s seen in years,” Hagrid said, as he fumbled with the normal-sized lantern in his giant hands.

Sunset opened her mouth to try and downplay that or deny it in some way, but she just didn’t have the energy to do so. Something was keeping her spirits down and she didn’t know what, so she just sighed to herself and stayed silent.

“... Somethin’ the matter?” Hagrid carefully said, as they reached their first destination.

Sunset struggled to come up with an answer to that question, but just sighed to herself again. “I guess. I don’t know.”

“Homesick again?” Hagrid suggested.

Sunset smiled humorlessly, remembering how she had been out walking with Hagrid last year as well when she felt down.

Sunset couldn’t tell if it was being away from Equestria itself which had something to do with her mood, but she did expect she might be happier there than at Hogwarts... At least for the moment.

“Maybe.”

Hagrid opened the door to the wooden shed and stepped inside, grabbing a barrel of what looked like frozen gruel, but with a handle that made it look more like a bucket when Hagrid held it.

He retrieved a hatchet from inside his coat and started breaking the ice on the surface of the liquid inside, revealing something slimy-looking underneath.

“Water snails, wha’ Dumbledore’s enchanted to be extra large. It’s for the squid,” Hagrid explained, and reached onto a shelf for another barrel. “If we pour some o’ this in a bucket for ye ter carry, we’ll only need ter make two rounds…”

Sunset picked up the barrel that Hagrid had brought down with one hand by the handle, making Hagrid pause.

“... A’right then, only one round,” he said, and they both took two barrels each.

Sunset’s hands were occupied, and she decided not to clear a path in front of them with her hair, instead they waded through the snow on the way to the shore of the lake.

“So where are ya homesick to?” Hagrid asked.

“Sorry, what?” Sunset asked.

“Where’s yer home,” Hagrid said. “I remember Dumbledore ‘n McGonagall talkin’ ‘bout how ye came ‘ere, but never heard where yer from.”

“Mm, I haven’t told anyone,” Sunset half-muttered.

“Why not?”

“Eh… I’d just rather not. A surprising number of people are curious, but it’s just not interesting.”

Hagrid just chuckled as he plowed a path through the snow with his massive form. “Maybe it’s you sayin’ tha’ wha’ makes people curious.”

Sunset failed to hold back a sigh.

“Well won’ press further then,” Hagrid said, as they reached the bank of the lake, and put the barrels of snails into a rowboat.

“Thanks,” Sunset said in a quiet voice, as they sat down in the boat.

Hagrid took the oars, and started rowing out onto the lake, producing lurches of speed from each row.

Sunset played with the idea that McGonagall had done her an unintentional favour.

Hagrid was a warm presence, and not intrusive, and while Sunset would’ve thought she wanted to study, she enjoyed being compelled to sit in comfortable silence, taking in the sight of the castle lighting up the snowy night, basking in the magical heat she produced on her clothes.

Eventually, Hagrid stopped rowing and pulled out one long and one short sturdy-looking wooden stick lying in the boat. He put the long one into the water, and beat on it with the shorter stick, producing a muted clacking sound that reverberated in the water.

“Feedin’ time,” he said.

Before long, the tip of a large tentacle peered out of the water a short way in front of the boat, and if it hadn’t been well-known that the giant aquatic creature was gentle, and even a little shy, Sunset would’ve been tempted to prepare some defensive spells.

A second one appeared, and the tip aimed at Sunset, almost inquisitive.

Hagrid looked at Sunset with an impressed expression. “‘e’s curious ‘bout ye,” he said. “I hope ye don’t mind getting a little slimy.”

The tentacles were certainly that, but it also wasn’t giving her detentions or any quiet ire because it didn’t understand what she was saying, so she simply held out her hand, which the tentacle touched, and they shook… appendages.

“Charmed,” she said, grasping the cold, clammy thing.

Hagrid, who had been looking on, nodded in approval before presenting one of the barrels of water snails to the tentacle.

“Bone ape-teat, as they say.”

Sunset was a little curious about who “they” were, but didn’t ask. Several more tentacles emerged, and started eagerly grabbing the snails out of the barrels. When one submerged with the treat, another came up and grabbed a large chunk of slimy… food.

Before long, the giant squid was done, and both Hagrid and Sunset were both soaked from splashing water from the feasting.

They were both patted on their heads in thanks, before the tentacles retreated down into the water, except for a small tip which cheerfully waved them goodbye for now.

Hagrid looked a little sheepishly at Sunset as they set down the barrels, and he took the oars.

“Aye, well, sometimes it gets a little messy,” he said, as Sunset sat down as well, feeling her robes squelch. “I suppose ye’d want ter get back to the castle ‘n warm yerself up.”

Sunset wrapped her robe around herself, and nodded.

Hagrid rowed in silence for a while, eyeing Sunset with concern.

“... Ye’ve got a good hand wi’ magercal creatures, y’know.”

“Hm?” Sunset asked, looking up.

“Thestrals, now this,” Hagrid said, nodding at the bucket. “Looks like talent ter me.”

Sunset shrugged, a little melancholy. “I’unno, witches and wizards are technically magical creatures. I’m not talented when it comes to them.”

“... How so?” Hagrid carefully asked.

“I don’t know,” Sunset said. “I just… don’t… care much for anyone.”

There was a second of silence before Sunset sighed.

“... I guess that’s a terrible thing to say,” she finished.

Hagrid’s mood became sombre too, and he looked up at the lit-up castle they were gradually coming closer to. “Mmhmm… things’re tense right now. Not a lot o’... friendliness in the air.”

“I… guess that’s true,” Sunset said.

The rowboat came to rest on the bank, and Sunset and Hagrid took a little care not to step in the freezing water as they disembarked.

“I guess tha’s yer detention done,” Hagrid said, and took all the barrels in his arms. “Ye can run up ter the castle now.”

“Are you sure?” Sunset asked.

“Yup. I’ll jes put these back and that’s all done fer today. Thanks fer yer help.”

“Don’t mention it, Mister Hagrid.”

“Jes Hagrid’ll do.”

“Right… goodnight.”

“Night.”

Sunset squelched up to the castle, and entered the great hall, empty of any other living things.

Taking care to magic away the soggy boot prints on her way to the showers to avoid any attention, Sunset realised that with Hermione still in the hospital wing, there would be no other girls in the student body to run into.

Sunset hurried into the girls’ shower, eager to let loose some steam.

She stood in the middle of the room, spreading her arms outward.

Magical energies surged between her fingers, and her hair spread out as if underwater, as she prepared a series of conjurations.

Finally, she gently brought her hands together in a soft clap, and the swirling magical effects spread out through the room.

Before her materialised a tall, wooden bench, and a large iron brazier with pieces of metal junk glowing red hot in it.

She could do with some more exercising of her magical strength, but decided to make it light for now, and simply waved her finger to redirect some water from the shower heads onto the coals, before disrobing and climbing up on the wooden bench.

Sunset continued stretching her magical powers by quickening the process, pulling out more water and heating up the coals even more, working out both the antsy feelings of holding back magically, and the clammy coldness of the night’s detention.

Eventually, she conjured up a towel and lay down on it, reflecting a bit on what the blend of her magic looked like; how much was Equestrian magic, and how much was Earth’s wizarding magic.

She didn’t notice how little reflection she managed though, before just shutting her eyes and starting to snore.

—

The next day a noise made Sunset force an eye open to see Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil dragging their luggages into the second year girls’ dormitory.

“Hi, Sunset!” Lavender said, enthusiastically.

“Mmmrhoo,” Sunset groaned, hoping to get back to napping, and slowly lifted a hand from under her pillow to wave. “Hey.”

“Where’s Hermione?”

“Mmm… hospital wing.”

Both of them dropped their bags and gasped.

“She’s not been attacked, has she!?”

“No, I don’t think so. Percy said she ate something.”

“How long has she been in there?” Parvati asked.

“A few days.”

They looked at each other and shrugged.

“I bet she was practising with advanced potions and spilled it on herself or something,” Parvati said.

“Probably, but no one’s been attacked, right, Sunset?”

“Nope.”

Lavender and Parvati continued unpacking. “Maybe the attacks really have stopped then.”

—

Winter slowly turned to spring. Hermione was released from the hospital wing, the worry about the attacks started dying down, and to Sunset’s delight, Professor McGonagall’s disappointment in Sunset lingered, and disinclined her from observing Sunset’s performance in class, leaving Sunset free to study extracurricular transfiguration magics in the third and fourth year level.

Sunset had also stopped experimenting with potions during Professor Snape’s classes, and just performed rote recitation. It was a giant waste of time, but it helped keep her out of trouble, and with just a little bit of perception-filtering illusions cast on herself, Professor Snape had barely acknowledged her existence in over a month, which was just the way she liked it.

In the common room, Sunset had moved an armchair and footrest extra close to the fireplace, and removed her boots to warm the bottom of her feet, when Ginny Weasley plopped down on the couch beside her, looking energised in a both good and bad way.

“Hey, Ginny.”

“Hullo… uh,” she said, hesitantly. “Uhm… Sunset?”

“Yeah?”

“If you, uhm… had to cover… uhm, actually, you break rules all the time, don’t you?”

Sunset raised an eyebrow in Ginny’s direction. “I don’t know, what do the school rules say about entrapment?”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Why do you ask?”

Ginny wringed her hands and squirmed uncomfortably where she sat as Sunset looked at her, curious.

“Well I… how do you do it?”

“How do I break rules?” Sunset asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I mean, how do you get away with it?”

Sunset’s eyes shifted around as she tried figuring out what brought this on. “I don’t break that many rules, but… I guess…” Sunset said, scratching her scalp. “Look, if no one sees you break rules, and the rules are stupid anyway, you don’t have to feel guilty, and if you don’t feel guilty, you don’t look guilty.”

Ginny got a far-off look in her eyes as she processed this.

“... Okay… I think that makes sense.”

“It does,” Sunset simply said.

Ginny stood up. “Thanks.”

“Myeah,” Sunset said, and went back to feeling her feet warming up.

—

One morning in February, a yawning Sunset sauntered into the great hall for breakfast, and suddenly felt nauseous.

With her eyes barely open, she stumbled towards her usual spot at the Gryffindor table, when Lavender and Parvati grabbed her by her shoulders and hurried her up.

They sat her down among her classmates, in front of a pile of envelopes, some of them white, some pink.

She opened her mouth, but was interrupted by another yawn, then smacked her lips.

“What’s this?” she asked her surroundings in general as she looked at the pile.

“Letters,” a serious-looking Parvati said.

“Yeah, I can see that, but what’s…” Sunset said, as she looked around the great hall.

Pink, heart-shaped confetti was raining from the ceiling, and giant hearts, also pink, were plastered all over the walls.

The rest of the student body was looking around with a wide variety of reactions. Some, like Neville, were mostly looking perplexed, others were blushing or looking very nervous and expectant, and many, especially the girls, like Hermione, were covering their mouths with their hands and giggling.

“... Oh,” Sunset said, to her dismay realising that there would, of course, be a Hearts ‘n Hooves day here as well.

It had always irked Sunset that Cadence- already perfect little alicorn princess Cadence, could have a special day dedicated to everything she wanted, including trying to set up romances, but there was no holiday dedicated to leaving unicorn scholars alone to do their work finding out how to become immortal alicorns themselves.

She looked at the stack of letters in front of her again, and could only repeat herself. “... Oh.”

“... Well!?” an impatient-looking Parvati said. “Are you going to read them?”

“You know… it might be best if I don’t,” Sunset said, slightly cautiously.

Like sharks smelling blood, Fred and George Weasley appeared behind her.

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll help you out!”

They lunged for a handful of letters each, and while Sunset managed to grab some of them, they just took another handful before retreating.

Fred yanked one letter out of an envelope, and adjusted a pair of imaginary glasses. “Ahem! Sunset, I’ve been watching you for a long time and I would like to… oh my!”

“What? What!?” both Lavender and Seamus insisted.

Sunset rested her forehead on her hands, and groaned, when Fred tossed the letter in her lap. “No, this one’s finished.”

“Sunset Shimmer, you are the most beautiful girl in school. Would you like to go out with me?” George read, looking at the letter incredulously. “Heh, points for brevity.”

“This one wants to teach you how to fly a broomstick,” Fred said.

“From who?” Lavender asked.

“It… doesn’t say. Wow, that’s just marvellous,” Fred said, scanning the letter again, disappointed.

By now, their audience had started to grow, several lines down their table, and even among the other houses.

“This one’s interesting,” George said. “Sunset Shimmer. I hate you. You are ugly and pathetic and you don’t deserve any friends. Huh, no ambiguity with their feelings there.”

“Don’t you people have your own letters to read!?” Sunset asked, angrily.

Fred and George looked at her with overdone disapproval.

“Wow, way to brag, drawing attention to how few other people have.”

“Yeah, show-off.”

“Like this one: Ahem! Sunset Shimmer, you are of a worthy line of powerful witches and wizards, and my own family will find you a worthy addition–”

That’s as far as he got before the letters were surrounded in a teal aura, which yanked them out of Fred and George’s hands, and tossed them down into her bag.

She pulled her wand, and whipped it against Fred and George, producing a rope of fire which they danced out of the way off while laughing, making it singe the floor.

“What’s this? What’s going on here?” a cheerful voice said.

“Nothing, Professor Lockhart,” Sunset firmly said at the wide smile facing her.

“Well, look sharp, you and young mister Diggory have both won the contest of most Valentine’s wishes received,” Lockhart said. “Excluding the faculty, and thus myself, of course.”

Sunset froze, before looking over at Cedric Diggory, who was giving Lockhart a terrified look from the Hufflepuff table.

Sunset sat absolutely still for several seconds, before simply grabbing a sandwich and standing up.

“Hospital wing!” she growled, and stormed off.

She rounded the corner of the hall, not heading towards the hospital wing but Gryffindor tower, when her coat was grabbed by something.

“Oi, you!” the something barked.

She spun around from the sudden yanking, and found herself staring into a pair of eyes narrowed to thin slits between a giant, wild beard and a pair of matching eyebrow, belonging to a short, stocky creature in dirty, rough, and smelly clothes, but with a pair of cheap fake wings on his back and a plastic gloria dangling above his head from a stick.

Sunset almost forgot her annoyance at the sight of the… person.

“Got me a poem ter read to ya,” he muttered, held up a roll of paper, and cleared her throat.

Sunset’s sandwich was incinerated in her hand.

The dwarf’s eyes widened, and he carefully let go of Sunset. “... it can wait,” he said, to Sunset’s back, who was already continuing on to the common room.

—

As spring continued, Professor Sprout kept making bi-weekly announcements regarding the state of the mandrakes, which was rather promising. Between that and the lack of attacks, the mood of the whole castle was slowly, carefully, returning to something that resembled normal.

Sunset continued keeping her head down, and managed to fool the faculty that she was struggling just as much as her classmates to keep up with the schoolwork.

She compensated by finding quiet spots in the school to practise magic in after classes, and before curfew.

Before long, it was Easter holidays, and time for the second year students to choose their elective subjects to study during their third year.

During breakfast, McGonagall was handing out leaflets about the subjects, and a roll of paper for each of them to mark which ones they had chosen.

“I just want to give up potions,” said Harry, with his chin in one hand and the leaflets in another.

“We can’t,” Ron said. “We keep all our old subjects, or I’d’ve ditched Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“But that’s very important,” Hermione insisted.

“Not the way Lockhart teaches it. I haven’t learned anything from him except not to set pixies free.”

Sunset was looking through the subjects as well, nibbling on a piece of toast.

If there was one subject she was confident that she didn’t need to study here, as her knowledge of it from Equestria would’ve carried over, it was Arithmancy.

Besides that, Care of Magical Creatures was something she figured could be useful in her quest, since innate magical abilities could play an important role in reaching alicornhood, so she marked that down.

A possibly even more useful subject, which didn’t provide information so much as ways to obtain information, was Divination, which she also marked.

Besides those, there was one other subject which she hadn’t gotten any wizarding books on, and which she wished she could study more of, but only had the chance to for a little bit of the year, and so Muggle Studies was also marked.

“Sunset…? Sunseeeet?”

“Huh?” Sunset said, looking up to see Lavender facing her, and glancing down on her paper.

“Are you picking muggle studies?”

“That’s right,” she said.

She looked up from the paper to see everyone else sharing meaningful looks and shaking their heads, before looking away when they noticed she was watching,

“What?” Sunset asked.

“So you really aren’t a muggleborn?” Seamus asked

Sunset finally relented, just a little bit. “No, my parents could do magic,” she said.

Dean groaned, and dug out two silver sickles and reluctantly placed them in the hand of a grinning Seamus.

Sunset felt it was best to not imagine that it was because she was very interesting, and stayed silent.

One cluster of people had been intensely silent during the conversation. Sunset turned her head to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione quietly looking at her, turning their heads away when she saw them.

“So what’cha picking, Neville?” she asked.

Neville was looking back and forth between a dozen letters, all of them recommending different subjects.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Great-uncle Algie says I could run a shop, like him, and pick arithmancy. Great-auntie Enid thinks that I could work at the ministry…”

Sunset nodded along, and noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione looking perplexed at the sight.

—

Time marched on, slower than back in Equestria, apparently, but it made it further and further through spring.

Sunset sauntered unenthusiastically towards the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the student body. Gryffindor was playing against Hufflepuff, and Sunset, who didn’t care about Quidditch, or really much about the student houses either, wished she could just go back up to the castle without drawing anyone’s attention.

She got her wish up on the stands, when Professor McGonagall quickly marched out onto the pitch, holding a megaphone.

“The match has been cancelled!” she announced, making everyone on the stands look at each other with dark expressions. “All students are to make their way back to the house common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!”

Sunset took a deep breath, and turned around to join the crowd going down the stairs, away from the viewing platforms.

“What do you think that means?” Parvati asked.

“I think it means that someone has been attacked,” Seamus said.

Before long, every student in Gryffindor, with two notable exceptions, were crammed into their common room, sitting on every couch, armchair, footstool, table, and rug, or were leaning against the occupied pieces of furniture, all of them staring at Professor McGonagall, who was holding up a roll of paper which she read from.

“... The first victim being Penelope Clearwater, a sixth year prefect in Ravenclaw, while the second one most of you are familiar with; Hermione Granger, second year in Gryffindor.”

Sunset’s year had already figured out who the second victim was, but the rest of the students let out a collective gasp.

McGonagall took a breath to steady herself. “All students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”

She rolled up her parchment, and looked at her students, bracing herself once again, and not quite managing to keep her voice steady. “I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. Is it likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward.”

She turned around to clamber down down the portrait hole, and the moment the portrait closed behind her, the room exploded in discussion.

Lee Jordan pointed out how the Slytherins had been spared any attacks, and suggested that they be kicked out, to a round of applause.

Sunset was sitting in her own armchair, which she had surreptitiously conjured herself (though no one was keeping track of the amount of furniture at this moment so no one noticed) resting her chin on her fist.

“What do you think will happen, Sunset?” Neville asked, who was sitting on a nearby footstool, with Ginny Weasley curled up on a rug to the side and leaning against it.

“Well…” Sunset started, and gathered her thoughts on what the sensible approach to this might be. “If they do close the school, there might be a chance to reopen it again if the Ministry sends in troops to sweep the entire structure without worrying about bystanders.”

“You mean the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” Neville said. “That’s a great idea! Then they could find the monster.”

“If it’s a monster,” Sunset pointed out. “We still don’t know. It could be someone using the whole monster story as a distraction.”

Neville nodded sagely. “What do you think, Ginny?”

Ginny raised a haggard face and stared up at Neville in surprise. “What!? Uuhm… I… don’t know. Maybe… whoever is doing it… isn’t meaning to…”

“Stranger things have happened. If that’s the case it would explain their motivation as well, or the lack of one,” Sunset said.

Later, when Lavender, Parvati, and Sunset entered the second year girls’ dormitory, they did so almost reverently.

Hermione would always waddle back and forth between being interested in Lavender and Parvati’s girly gossip, and rolling her eyes at them when it became too much for her.

They looked at Hermione’s bed and bedside table, on top of which were stacks of books with dozens of bookmarks sticking out of them.

“... At least she’s not dead,” Parvati eventually offered.

“You know what I think?” Lavender said, as they started changing into their sleepwear. “I think it’s someone from outside.”

“What?” Parvati said, looking at Lavender over her shoulder.

“Think about it. The teachers have all been on the lookout- actually, everyone has, especially right after the attacks, but no one has seen anything. What if it’s not a student or a teacher or someone in the castle at all? Maybe it’s someone in Hogsmeade, or from somewhere else, just swooping in and casting a petrification curse, and then flees back out of the castle again.”

“But what about the monster thing?” Parvati asked.

“Maybe it lives in the forest?” Lavender suggested. “Or whoever it is that’s doing it brings it with them?”

Sunset had paused, as she considered this, blinking her eyes.

“That’s a surpris- uhm… a good idea,” she noted.

“Right?” Lavender said. “It makes sense, making everyone look in the wrong places.”

They all crept in under their covers, and Lavender and Parvati kept speculating about the attacks and the Chamber of Secrets well into the night, occasionally asking Sunset for her insight, until she were lulled to sleep by their discussion.

—

The next morning, at breakfast, McGonagall drew the attention of several nearby students as she stormed up in front of the faculty’s table, and noticeably took a moment to collect herself, and tried to suppress an angry scowl as she unrolled a piece of paper.

“Attention, all students!” she yelled, a little more loudly than required to silence the room. “I… regret to inform you… that… that the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and the groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, have, for an undetermined amount of time–” she covered up her faltering voice by clearing her throat “–will be… on a leave of absence.

“The school will continue operating as… as normal, and any… all special instructions are still in place. No amount of sensational speculation, or any rumour mongering of any kind, will be allowed. That is all.”

Unlike the previous times, McGonagall’s lower eyelid didn’t twitch at the immediate murmur that followed her statement, and despite Sunset having had pretty low thoughts on her head of house lately, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy at the sight of the older woman trying to not look defeated as she tiredly marched to take her place at the table.

“‘Leave of absence’?” Seamus said. “What does that mean?”

“It means that they’re not here right now,” Lavender supplied, genuinely.

“I know that! By what did she really mean?”

“Maybe they were responsible for the attacks?” Dean suggested, making Harry and Ron cast him a venomous look.

“Dumbledore?” Parvati asked, one raised eyebrow aimed at Dean.

“Oh, right,” Dean said, and thought about it for a few more seconds. “But Hagrid then?”

“Uhm… what do you think, Sunset?” Neville asked.

Everyone turned to look at Sunset, chewing on a piece of toast. She couldn’t understand why they wanted her thoughts on the matter, but she decided to help them out as best as she could anyway.

“Motive,” she reminded them.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Motive,” Sunset repeated. “What would their motive be?”

Dean opened his mouth, and closed it again, as everyone considered this wrinkle.

“Mm, it’s not like Dumbledore would have been hostile towards muggles this whole time,” Neville said.

“My thoughts exactly, and I’ll say the same about Hagrid,” Sunset said, not noticing that Harry and Ron’s expressions softened slightly to uncertain and slightly confused looks.

—

Summer was approaching Hogwarts like an enormous walrus turning over in slow-motion, however, the weather did little to lift anyone’s spirits, and by extension Sunset’s spirits.

She was by now exceedingly tired of being surrounded by the stale stench of fear and panic exuding from her fellow students.

Sunset contributed to it all as well by trying her best to keep her irritability under control, which made her tense and terse.

It was all made worse by how all students were pretty much confined to the classrooms and common rooms, and escorted between the limited locations by teachers. While Sunset could reliably slip out and avoid detection, there was very little to do, and too many might notice her absence in the common room.

“Professor?” she said, as McGonagall was escorting the girls needing a bathroom break after class, while Flitwick led the rest of the class towards the common room.

“Yes, Miss Shimmer?”

“The rumours are that Hagrid was arrested for the attacks, and that he has been arrested before.”

McGonagall’s expression hardened, but she kept her voice steady. “... Yes, I believe they are,” she said, as Parvati and Lavender entered the bathroom while looking back at them with curious faces.

“So how does one go about obtaining public records regarding old criminal cases?” Sunset calmly asked.

“What?”

“Public records,” Sunset repeated, meeting McGonagall’s confused expression with an uncertain one. “You know; Law enforcement reports, press releases, statements, court transcripts, all of that.”

“R… regarding what?” McGonagall asked.

“Regarding whatever Mister Hagrid was accused of, whenever that was, and whatever it was.

McGonagall took a deep breath, puffing herself up to a greater height, and speaking in a slow, hard tone.

“I would recommend that you focus on school work, and leave adult matters to the adults.”

Sunset’s expression slowly darkened, and her jaw clenched.

“Fine,” she said, turned around, and walked away.

“Miss Shimmer!” McGonagall barked, and started walking after her. “You will need to be escorted to the common room.”

“No I do not,” Sunset simply said, and teleported as she rounded a corner, leaving McGonagall to stare down an empty hallway when she caught up.

It was a risky move, but Sunset’s patience was now dangerously thin, having had her attempt to assist thrown back in her face.

Furthermore, it was pretty clear that Lavender and Parvati had not actually been using the toilets during Sunset and McGonagall’s exchange, but had been pressing their ears to the door.

Now, in addition to the annoyance of the fear and panic around making Sunset almost perpetually surly, the rumours surrounding her had shifted more towards the kind that made people quiet in her presence.

She had been laying the magic on thick to make people ignore her while in potions classes. Snape, however, seemed to be in a good mood, which helped.

“Don’t you think it’s great that Dumbledore is finally gone?” Draco asked Sunset, as Snape was walking with the class towards the Great Hall for lunch.

A part of Sunset mused on how difficult it was to point out that Dumbledore had been very kind to her in the past.

Remembering that did help Sunset calm down somewhat, at least for the moment.

Sunset bobbed her head as she considered what Draco said. “He tried to help me last year. It feels like bad form to be happy he’s gone.”

Draco opened his mouth, and looked at Sunset in surprise. “He has?” he asked, and then rallied. “Well it doesn’t matter. You don’t need his help.”

Sunset almost laughed when she realised how this simple encouragement helped.

“Tsh, you got that right,” she said.

Draco kept glancing at her, as if he wanted to say something else, but held it back, and went to sit by the Slytherin table when they reached the Great Hall.

At the Gryffindor table, Sunset collapsed into her seat, and stared out a window, chin resting in her hands and her eyelids drooping.

“Sunset?” Lavender carefully said. “Are you okay?”

Sunset shook her head in small, tired motions, and sighed.

Normal people dealt with the problems that Sunset was having by being supported and hugged, but Sunset saw the glaring flaw of that approach. Though she was loath to admit it, McGonagall’s dismissal of Sunset’s plans to help really, really bothered her, and that dismissal was another example of how other people, even the ones who were supposed to be on her side, could not be trusted.

It was a double vulnerability to rely on other people. Draco was right.

—

Nothing much happened for weeks after that. Without Hermione taking up the spotlight, Sunset made extra sure to not seem too far ahead of the class, but the faculty had also stopped probing as to why Sunset didn’t seem to be putting in much effort.

Entering the second year’s girls’ dormitory revealed Hermione’s bed, with her books, quills, and notes strewn about, now with a thin layer of dust covering them.

Lavender and Parvati had insisted that they don’t touch any of it, as if it was a shrine of some kind.

The three of them most often went to bed in silence these days, with only the occasional whispered gossip between the other two girls.

One night, Sunset was stirred awake by a strange growling. It would normally be an alarming sound to be roused awake by, but it was far off in the distance, and outdoors.

Smacking her lips, she got up, dressed in her nightgown, and went over to a window. Looking out over the grounds, she saw two bright pinpricks of light approaching from the forest.

Instantly suspicious, she hurriedly started rubbing the sleep from her eyes, but once she took another look, it had started retreating back into the forest.

“Damn,” she hissed to herself, and looked at Parvati and Lavender.

Parvati turned over, and Sunset decided to play it safe, and darted out of the room before teleporting outdoors.

The cool air of the early summer night washed over her, and a tingling sense of joy floated through the air.

“Yes, hello again,” Sunset said, trying not to seem rude as the forest greeted her.

She heard the growling sound in the distance, and spotted the bright lights rapidly retreating deeper into the forest.

With her nightgown swishing behind her, Sunset started sprinting after whatever the strange creature was, leaping over shrubs the forest did its best to part the undergrowth for her.

The woods whispered to her, joyful from having another unicorn run through it, but also giving the impression of urgent whispers caressing Sunset’s ears: Careful. Intruders. Dangerous.

Sunset nodded, and surrounded herself in a shimmering aura, but after a moment of chasing the torch-equipped, growling… thing, she realised that her quarry was not what the forest was warning her about.

That thing was not some evil intruder. In fact, it suddenly and smoothly stopped, and gently rumbled some ways ahead of her.

The torches were not torches. They were headlights.

“Oh… right,” Sunset said, releasing the flame she had been holding in her hand and rolling her eyes.

It was the car that Ron and Harry had arrived in during the first day of school the previous summer, and it stood before her right now, gently idling.

Sunset could tell that the car was empty, and realised what was going on.

Like the armors of the castle, this car had gained an imitative semblance of awareness, and was now seemingly living in the forest.

Sunset laughed a little to herself, the tension flowing out of her, as she walked up to the car.

It rolled towards her the last few inches, like a curious animal, and she put her hand on it, impressed.

“Someone did some serious magic on you,” she said, approvingly. “Not bad at all. Where did you come from?”

But she didn’t have much time to investigate further, as the forest whispered to her again. The car wasn’t what it had been concerned about, but the thing that scared it for Sunset’s sake was out there, and angry.

The forest urged her to leave, but Sunset narrowed her eyes.

“Is it the centaurs?” she said, and realisation hit her, making her narrow her eyes.. “Are the centaurs attacking people in the castle?”

A breeze rattled the leaves. It didn’t understand what Sunset was asking, but the danger was not centaurs.

“Should I help?”

An oak groaned in the distance. The woods only wanted to see her safe, to hide her and cover her tracks as she went back to shelter.

“Has whatever is out there left the forest recently?”

The brushes around her shook slightly, meaning that no, it hadn’t.

“So it’s not what is attacking people in the castle,” she muttered to herself, and nodded.

Sunset would’ve loved to let out some pent up feelings at whoever this forest didn’t like, but it told her it was no danger to the forest itself, only its visitors.

“Fine,” Sunset relented, and turned away. “I guess I’ll see you later. Perhaps you as well,” she told the car, which also started rolling away, the forest subtly thickening the foliage behind them.

The episode with the forest had actually helped Sunset’s mood to some degree, and a few days later, McGonagall walked up and made an announcement at breakfast.

“I have good news.”

The hall buzzed with excitement.

“Dumbledore is coming back!”

“You’ve caught the heir of Slytherin!”

“Quidditch matches are back on!”

McGonagall held up a hand and, unusually, waited for the murmur to subside on its own.

“Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.”

The cheering was accompanied by a wave of relief. The silent dread and panic which had lingered for months now vanished almost instantly.

Sunset had never experienced such a rapid shift of scents in her life, and it was almost euphoric. She leaned her head back and took a deep, relieved breath, feeling as though a headache she didn’t realise she had been dealing with for weeks was finally lifted, and her shoulders relaxed, seemingly for the first time in ages.

“You alright, Sunset?” Neville asked, once he had finished cheering along with everyone else.

Sunset just nodded. She was tired, but at least now she could probably get some decent rest.

She decided to inform Professor Lockhart that she wasn’t feeling well, and was allowed to return to Gryffindor Tower for some rest.

He even forgot to arrange someone to escort her back to the tower.

“Are you allowed to walk around alone?” the fat lady asked her.

Sunset shrugged. “No one said anything,” she said, and provided the password.

Inside the empty common room, Sunset slumped down into an armchair in front of the fireplace which only had a cosy little fire now during summer, put her feet up on the footrest, and dozed off.

After what felt like only moments, a voice jolted Sunset awake.

She looked around, startled, until she realised she was alone, and the voice was actually McGonagall speaking with a magically enchanted voice, echoing through the halls.

“... students to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.”

Sunset sat up, and looked at the opening to the dormitories with a feeling of apprehension.

The fourth year students returned first, with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan talking amongst themselves, trying to not seem bothered.

“Hey, Sunset,” they said, and sat down on the couch next to her.

“Hey,” she responded, as Fred retrieved a pair of butter beer bottles from inside his robes which they shared between them, as they too looked curiously at the door opening, waiting for answers.

“Do you know what’s up?” Lee asked.

“Uh-uh,” Sunset said, and shook her head at the bottle that George offered her. “No thanks.”

Gradually, the whole common room filled up with students, though everyone was by now accustomed to squeezing together into the couches and armchairs with each other, only a few were left sitting on the rugs.

Harry and Ron hurried in and took up a spot in the far back, with Ron looking as though he was in a daze, just moments before McGonagall entered.

Her expression was even worse than when she announced that Dumbledore and Hagrid had been forced to leave the school, which everyone noticed, and her faltering expression was met with a tensely curious silence as every eye in the common room was fixed on her.

She took several deep breaths, and like Ron, looked like she wasn’t all there, before she swallowed.

“Ginny… Weasley…” she started, and Sunset could immediately feel the tension and fear flowing from Fred and George. “... Has been taken… by the culprit… into the… the Chamber of Secrets.”

The entire room gasped, but there was no eruption of murmur and speculation this time, only silence except for the clink of a bottle of butterbeer slipping from Fred’s hand onto the rug. Instead, they looked back and forth between McGonagall and the Weasley brothers, not sure where to start.

“But!” Lee Jordan finally said, next to the frozen twins. “G-go find her then!”

Annoyance flashed across McGonagall’s face for the merest of moments, before she calmed down. “We will of course do our utmost to prevent anything from happening to her, but…”

She tapered off weakly, prompting another round of the students looking back and forth at each other.

“Well… call the police then!” Dean Thomas said. “Or, you know, the… the ministry or something!”

McGonagall nodded shudderingly. “Letters to the relevant ministry officials are being drafted as we speak, and we are actively looking for Dumbledore. Their official authorities are limited at Hogwarts, but we are urging them to make exceptions and bypass the bureaucracy to act as swiftly as possible, but we… fear that…”

“But Professor Sprout is making the cure, you said,” Neville said, pleadingly. “When you give the cure to Hermione and the others, they can tell you who it is, and then you can find Ginny.”

McGonagall nodded. “Yes, but there are still several hours of work left before the cure is ready. We are of course working towards that goal as well, but…”

Everyone was looking at McGonagall, and each other, aghast and desperate for answers, when she steeled herself.

“Enough. You will all stay here until tomorrow morning, at which point, unless the situation has been resolved, you will be escorted to the Hogwarts express.”

She turned around to leave, when Percy, tears silently flowing down his cheeks and barely keeping the sobs back, stood up as well.

McGonagall held out a hand for him to join her. “Yes, Mister Weasley. I realise you… have… letters to send.”

They quietly walked out, leaving everyone else to stare after them in silence.

Everyone turned to look at Ron, Fred, and George.

Their teacher hadn’t said it, but her demeanour left no room for doubt. Ginny Weasley was in grave danger, if she wasn’t already dead.

Lee Jordan, his eyes welling up with tears, put a hand on Fred’s shoulder, but Fred and George just sat there, staring ahead blankly.

After what seemed like hours of silence, Parvati and Lavender rose up and walked up the stairs to the dorms in silence.

Sunset stood up as well, and followed them with an expression of utter defeat on her face.

Once she rounded the corner and got out of sight however, she dropped her facade and sped up, jaw clenched in determination.

<> she growled to herself, as she entered her dorm, and marched up to her bed.

“Sunset?” Lavender said, as Sunset dug out her cloak

Sunset grunted in response, and started taking out all the vials of potions, cures, and ointments, helpful or otherwise, which she had saved from her extracurricular potions research, and double checking their arrangements in all her pockets. She then dug out her and Celestia’s book, and quickly flipped to the current page, taking out her muggle pencil and putting it on the page.

Those rumours I told you about are real. A girl has been kidnapped.

Going monster hunting.

Write to you later.

She shut the book, and turned to her alarmed classmates.

“Do you two know anything?” she calmly.

“No,” Lavender said, and shook her head to which Sunset nodded.

“Sunset,” Parvati said, nervously. “I… think your hair's on fire.”

Sunset turned around to look in the mirror to see that, indeed, her hair was slightly glowing, with the occasional little gout of flame rising up from it.

“Don’t mind that,” she said, and straightened it out, before walking towards the door, turning to Parvati and Lavender as she walked out. “Stay here.”

She closed the door, and teleported away.

Appearing on top of the outer wall of the castle grounds, she observed the giant stone structure critically, taking a calming sigh.

She tried making a mental, internal map of the castle, trying to find out where there might be a hidden chamber of near mythical importance, but it was no use. The castle’s walls, both internal and external, were inconsistently thick, that idea did not take the underground parts of the castle into account, which was the most obvious place to put a secret chamber anyway, and it was clear that the witches and wizards who built the castle possessed a firm grasp of space-altering magic.

She sighed, and quickly walked along the wall of the castle itself, prodding at the stone and inspecting it closely, but that was of no use either.

Instead, she entered the castle, and made her way up to the fourth floor, heading towards the secret passage towards the hills overlooking Hogsmeade, to try and get a feel for the magic or structure of hidden chambers at Hogwarts. It was too slow, but it was the best lead she had.

However, she stopped when a voice called out to her.

“Young Mistress Shimmer,” a hoarse voice said.

Sunset turned around to see The Bloody Baron floating up towards her.

“My Lord Baron,” she said, nodding politely but tersely at the ghost.

“May I ask your business here, at this time?”

“You’ve heard that Ginny Weasley has been taken to the Chamber of Secrets, right?” Sunset said, continually scanning the stones of the castle.

“I have,” the Baron said, nodding.

“Well I intend to find her,” Sunset said, and turned back to the ghost. “I don’t suppose you know where the chamber is?”

The Baron shook his head, his eyes always fixed on Sunset. “I do not, but… repositories of the castle’s secrets would likely be found in the headmaster’s office.”

Sunset raised her head slowly, intrigued.

“... They would, wouldn’t they?” she said, and nodded. “Thank you.”

The Baron nodded back. “My friend’s honour demands satisfaction. I extend thanks in his place.”

“You mean Nick?”

The Baron nodded.

“Right. I’ll see to it,” Sunset said, and set off towards Dumbledore’s office.

Before the meeting with the Baron, Sunset almost would not have minded walking into a member of the faculty, figuring that at least that could provide some sort of hint, but now, she moved quickly and quietly through the hallways, sniffing and listening the entire time, but except for the Fat Friar, whom she convinced to check with the Baron about whether or not she should be in the corridors, and a short detour to avoid Flitwick, she made it to the stairs leading up to Dumbledore’s office without problems.

She stared at the absolutely still gargoyle for a moment, humming to herself.

“Just sweets in general,” she said, impatiently.

The gargoyle suddenly turned his head towards her and gave her a disappointed look.

“That was the laziest suggestion I’ve heard in a long time,” he told her.

“Am I wrong?” she said, raising an eyebrow threateningly.

He grumbled a bit, before moving aside. “Just this once.”

Sunset bounded up the stairs, and threw open the door.

The portraits around the office looked up in surprise. Sunset had never spoken to them the times she had been here before, but she had quickly figured out that they were previous headmasters.

“Oh!” the portrait of a feeble old man said, in a quivering and slightly uncertain voice. “This is not something I’ve seen before. A student with free reign of the headmaster’s office.”

“Nor have I,” a very disapproving-looking man with a black goatee said. “It is to be expected by students these days. Rest assured, young one, that I will recommend harsh treatment for you when Dumbldore returns. And after he helped you so much last year.”

“Yeah yeah,” Sunset said, waving him away, and opening a glass cabinet to scan the covers of a set of books for anything that might be about known secrets of the castle, in the hopes of perhaps cross-referencing something. “I need to find the chamber of secrets. It’s an emergency.”

That piqued the curiosity of all the portraits, except the man with the goatee.

“What kind of emergency?” a woman with a very old style of doctor’s hat said.

“Life or death,” Sunset said.

Before anyone else could say anything, a giant gout of flame appeared behind Sunset.

She spun around, spells at the ready, only to see Fawkes appear in the air, and soar over to a tall glass cabinet next to Sunset.

“Fawkes!”

He turned around, looking at Sunset in surprise, and spread his wings while trilling urgently.

Sunset’s jaw almost dropped, and she let out a nervous little laugh, hope welling up inside her.

“You do!?”

Fawkes trilled again, and pointed with a talon at the cabinet.

“There is?” Sunset said, and opened the door to the cabinet, revealing a gold- and gem-decorated sword. “Huh.”

She grabbed the sword, and turned to Fawkes. “Right! Where to next?”

Fawkes squawked and nodded towards the sorting hat.

Sunset gave him a disbelieving look. “The hat? Why?”

Fawkes squawked again.

“Well, okay. Makes as much sense as anything,” she said, and marched over to the hat, grabbed it, and shoved the sword into it.

Another trill, this one also urgent.

“What?” Sunset asked, feeling a little like a broken record.

Fawkes trilled, feeling the same.

“Ah,” Sunset said, and nodded at Fawkes, before turning the hat over, and stepping inside it, the hat’s interior being magically enlarged. “Element of surprise, eh? Alright. Let’s go!”

Sunset pulled the side of the hat up, ending up in what felt like standing inside a giant leather sack, the golden sword lying next to her, when a pair of phoenix talons closed around the brim of the hat, and started taking off, when everything was engulfed in magical, harmless fire.

Author's Note

Pre-read by ssokolow and Snuffy.

Stay tuned for the upcoming chapter: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secretions.