Later that night, I sat on my own in the common room, finishing my homework. Hermione had wanted to go to bed early, and Harry and Ron were in detention. It was around nine, and I had too much going on in my mind to even think about falling asleep.

My dreams. The diary. Ginny. Why wasn't there anything written in it? What was Malfoy warning me about? Why did he keep the mythology book over the summer?

I paused. Deciding to see for myself, I took the tome out of my bag and placed it on the table. It had been most of my bag weight for the past few days, as I'd always forgotten to bother with putting it in my dorm. I skimmed through the pages, rereading the chapter on Hades and Persephone. I wondered if he'd done the same.

I flipped back to the table of contents and paused. Malfoy had underlined and circled several chapters. My first thought was "shame on him, it's a library book" but then I grew curious.

There were many that he'd underlined, all monsters: The Minotaur, Cerberus (ironic), the Chimera, the Gorgons, the Lernaean Hydra, Lamia, Scylla, Charybdis, Echidna, and Ladon.

Without even thinking, I found myself copying down the ones that he'd underlined on a spare piece of parchment. Next, I looked at the ones he'd circled: The Minotaur, Cerberus, the Chimera, the Gorgons, the Lernaean Hydra, and Echidna. I wasn't sure what they all had in common with one another, but I circled them on my list anyway. I sat back, and looked at the list and the chapters to make sure I hadn't missed any.

"You alright, Lila?" Dean seemingly materialized by my side. I blinked, startled, though I was happy to see him.

"Yes, I'm fine," I nodded. "Just trying to figure something out."

"Do you think I can help?" He asked. I shook my head.

"I doubt it, but a fresh set of eyes is always welcome," I said. Dean sat beside me and looked down at the chapters and then at my list.

"What exactly am I looking for?" He asked me.

"Correspondence between all of the circled ones," I answered. "They're all creatures from Greek mythology."

"I don't know what many of them are besides the Minotaur and Cerberus," Dean shook his head. "Didn't you meet Cerberus?"

"He was a hellhound, yes, but not Cerberus," I shook my head. This was old news. "He was Hagrid's. His name was Fluffy."

"Ah, I see," Dean nodded, though he was giving me a weird look. I was too engaged to say anything about it.

"Why are we doing this, again?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to explain," I relayed the conversation between Malfoy and I to him, as well as our connection with the mythology book.

"So whatever he's warning me about, his father's probably behind it," I finished. "Harry and Ron think that he's just trying to get into my head, which is also a reasonable explanation."

"Maybe Malfoy's dad told him what he was planning," Dean suggested. "He's definitely trying to warn you about something, but what it is, I'm not sure."

"Do you think he was sure?" I frowned. "His father certainly didn't tell him everything. Maybe he was just making guesses using the book, hence all the circling."

"He wanted you to find that book," Dean said surely. "Otherwise he'd have written it on some parchment, like you just did."

"What do you think it all means?" I asked. "You think someone would set one of these monsters on the school as an act of revenge? And with our useless Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, we wouldn't be prepared—"

"We probably shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe it's in the words themselves," Dean suggested. We studied the words he'd underlined and circled, forming countless anagrams. I remembered about my coding tool Hermione had given me, and rushed up to my dorm to get it. After grabbing it from my bag, careful not to wake anyone who was asleep, I rushed back down the stairs. I stood over the parchment and held the glass to my eye. The letters began to shift around, and I grew hopeful, but then they returned to their original places.

"What does that do?" Dean asked.

"It decodes things," I replied. "It couldn't find a code, and as we're also having no luck on our own either I say we look at this another day." I frowned. "Maybe there is no meaning behind it—"

"I'd be really surprised if he did all of this just to get into your head," Dean said. "You two were old friends."

I shook my head, closing the book with the parchment inside. I felt a strange pang in my chest. "See, that's the thing. I don't think we ever were."

"Let me kill you."

I was surprised by a whispered voice. I looked to Dean, but his lips hadn't moved. He was giving me an odd look.

"Come, come to me . . . let me rip you . . . let me tear you . . . let me kill you. . . "

"Don't — Don't you hear that?" I asked him, my voice wavering for the first time in ages.

"Hear what?" He asked me, looking concerned. "Lila, I think you need sleep."

I listened again for the voice. It didn't come.

"You're right, maybe I do," I shook my head, shivering. What the hell was that?

I woke up on the floor near the music room again. It was daytime, and this time students were actively strolling along the corridors. The same violin melody rang through the halls, accompanied by piano. When I looked up, everyone's faces were blurred. It was eerie. I shuddered and stood quickly.

No one seemed to notice I was there. Some of them even walked right through me. Why could Anne see me if no one else could? I walked toward the music room anyway, slipping through the half-opened door. Anne stood in her usual place facing the window, but beside her at the grand piano sat another girl. She had short, dark hair that fell in waves. She was very concentrated on her music, her robes indicating that she, like Anne, was in Ravenclaw. She sat with her back to me.

Anne spotted me in the corner, but did not react with so much as a raised eyebrow. The other girl did not seem to notice me at all. I watched them play and listened to their music.

It was the same melody Anne had been playing the last two times I'd arrived, but the piano filled the spaces and made the music come to life. The song was meant to be a duet, a partnership between piano and violin. It felt whole. It was beautiful, but short-lived.

"Come to me . . . Let me kill you . . ."

Anne stopped playing mid-piece. I felt a chill crawl up my spine. It was the same voice I'd heard before I went to bed, the same words as well. I stared up at the ceiling, unsure where it had come from. 

Having reacted the same way as I did, Anne turned her attention to me. I had never so clearly seen fear in her eyes. I opened and closed my mouth, not sure what to say. The other girl followed her gaze, turning her head to face me. Her face, like the other students, was a blur. I felt my skin start to crawl.

"What's wrong?" The other girl asked. "What are you looking at?"

"Hm?" Anne looked back at the other girl quickly. "Oh, nothing." She placed her violin back on her shoulder. "Nothing, and no one. Just thought I heard something, is all."

When I woke up, I felt worse than I ever had. I ended up screwing my eyes shut and throwing up in the bathroom. I flushed it down with a grimace and didn't open my eyes until I was certain it was gone.

Luckily, I did feel better afterward. I slept deeply and dreamlessly, trying not to think too hard about what I'd seen and heard. Perhaps it was time to go to Dumbledore.

When I approached Dumbledore's office the next morning, I had a perfectly curated plan of what I would say. First I'd talk about the necklace, then the dreams, then the warning, then the voice. Chronological order seemed the most efficient to me.

However, as much as I knocked the headmaster did not answer. The gargoyle had pestered me for a password, but I did not have one. I waited for around ten minutes before Professor McGonagall walked by, holding a stack of parchment. When she saw me, she gave me a strange look.

"Miss Holmes," she addressed me. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast?"

"I already ate, Professor," I told her. "Is Dumbledore here? I need to speak with him about something."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not, but if it's something I can help you with I'd be glad to."

I remembered what Hermione had said last year, that McGonagall did not believe in visions or prophetic sorts of magic. Additionally, the Divination teacher was rumored to be a real kook.

"No, Professor, it's alright," I shook my head. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Next week, I'd think," she mused. "He's got business at the ministry but he'll be back as soon as he can."

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow," I bid goodbye to her. She nodded at me, though her expression remained curious.

"Of course. And don't forget your paper. It'll be your biggest grade for the week."

I smiled at her. "When have I ever?"

Despite my cheery disposition, I was rather disappointed. I supposed I could wait, but I was rather impatient. Perhaps I should go to the library. Then again, I had yet to touch the extra weight in my luggage. Maybe it could help me connect to Anne in some way. An idea struck me, and I found myself speeding toward Gryffindor tower faster than which I came.

When I reached the girls dorms, they were empty of students. Everyone was at breakfast, or enjoying the remnants of the fall weather before it succumbed to winter. I opened my trunk and lifted from it a small, black leather case. I deftly unfastened the silver latches, peering down at my violin.

The wood was a soft, burnt orange color. The strings were in good shape, and the bow laid proud beside the violin in the case. I removed the bow first, tightening the strings until they were taut. The rosin gave off a strange and nostalgic scent that I'd forgotten, but thanks to muscle memory I remembered how to apply it. Afterward, I plucked at the strings to ensure they were still tuned from when I'd fixed it this summer, though I had to re-tune them anyway regardless.

After the first dream, I'd thought it a good idea to bring my instrument to Hogwarts. Other than the necklace, it seemed to be the only connection I had with Anne.

Finally, I pulled out some parchment, scribbling a few empty staffs down the page. I could recognize the key of her song at the very least — D Major. I did my best to remember what notes went where on the staff, scribbling a sample staff at the top corner as an example.

After I finished this, I lifted the violin to my shoulder, raised my bow, and closed my eyes. I let the bow slide along each string, trying to remind myself how each note sounded. Suddenly, I hit the one that began Anne's song. B. Bingo.

I wrote this down in the staff, beside the 3/4 time signature. I switched my fingering, playing strings until I could find the next one, then the next. I worked for a good hour until I had the first line of the piece transcribed to the best of my  ability. Then I played it through, just to be sure. I had none of Anne's talent — my bow still brushed against more than one string at times — but it was rudimentary enough to be familiar. Quickly, I snatched the page and walked to the library.

"Hi," I greeted Madame Pince. She did not seem surprised to see me. I'd been here at least three times in the past week.

"Good morning," she said to me. I showed her the piece of paper I'd written the beginnings of the song on.

"Do you know where the music archives are?" I asked.

"Certainly," she nodded. "Far left corner in the back, fifth shelf. Let me know if you need help."

"Thank you," I replied, making my way over. A few Ravenclaws sat back there, likely music students. I paid them no mind, setting down my piece of paper to grab a ladder. I ascended to the fifth shelf, thumbing through a few of the book titles until I found something promising — Love Songs in D Major.

I wasn't sure if it was a love song, but it sounded sad enough to be one, so I took the tome from the shelf and set it beside the piece of paper. I scanned through the table of contents, seeing songs in Latin, French, Spanish, Korean, and several other languages I'd yet to even hear of. I readied myself for a long search.

"Je te laiserrai des mots."

I turned around. Behind me was Beatrice Pollux, a Ravenclaw girl in my year. I never spoke to her much, as the only class we shared with Ravenclaw was Astronomy. However, I knew her to be fairly quiet, usually keeping to herself and her other friend whose name I couldn't quite recall.

"Sorry?" I raised an eyebrow. She gestured to the parchment I'd laid beside me.

"The song? I'm pretty sure it's je te laisserai des mots, by Patrick Watson," she shrugged. "I thought I'd save you some time."

Curiously, I flipped the page over to the song she'd mentioned. It was in French, but to my surprise the sheet music was identical so far to what I'd written, if I ignored the piano accompaniment.

Fascinated, I turned to her. "That's incredible." I said. She blushed.

"It's nothing really. The piece is pretty popular, and I'm a music student, so it's kind of my thing." She said. I didn't know second years could take music. Usually electives were saved for third years, but perhaps an exception had been made for her. Clearly her talent should be obliged.

"Thank you for the help," I smiled at her. "I know we don't talk much, so it was quite kind of you to offer assistance."

"Again, it's no problem," she smiled back. "I mean, you're Lila Holmes aren't you? I've heard so much about you, since you're friends with Harry Potter and all, but also just because you're so smart."

This time, I blushed. "I try to make the most of all subjects, but some of them evade me. Herbology for instance, and the arts. I might be practical but I'm afraid it makes me prosaic."

"Well, you can't expect yourself to be good at everything," she said wisely. She checked her watch, then sighed. "It was nice meeting you. I'm glad I could help, but I've got to run. Quidditch tryouts are soon and I'm going so I can support Andrea."

Andrea, I recalled. "Thank you again! I'll make sure to talk to you some more in Astronomy, if you don't mind."

She grinned. "I don't."

After she walked away, I refocused on the music. I began to copy down the rest of the song onto the parchment. Luckily it was a short one, so I only needed the front and back. Then I put the book away where I'd found it and left the library.

When I returned to the dorms, I found Hermione there gathering her books. She seemed surprised to see me, staring between the violin on my bed, myself, and the sheet music in my hand.

"Have you finished all your schoolwork?" She asked, as though preparing to lecture me if my answer was no.

"Of course," I lied. "But either way, this is far more important."

I sat on the bed and laid the sheet music against the pillow so I could read it while sitting on my bed. Hermione looked again at me strangely.

"And what exactly," she paused, "is this?"

"Hermione, I've been going back in time." I didn't have to look at her to know her expression was incredulous. "I'm not saying you have to believe me, but it happens when I fall asleep. Each time I wake up in Hogwarts, 1942. I see this girl whose name is Anne, and she's the only one that sees me."

Hermione didn't speak, although her lips pursed with worry.

"Who is she?" She asked.

"I'm not sure," I replied truthfully. "But she was a Ravenclaw, a Prefect, and a player of the violin. She also previously owned the necklace I bought from the antique shop in Greece."

This caused Hermione to grow concerned. "Lila, that necklace might be cursed. If these dreams are what's making you so sick, and she's the only one that sees you—"

"That's the thing, though. She hasn't tried to harm me. Every time I arrive she's playing the violin," I told her, setting my own instrument on my shoulder. "And it's always the same song. I think it's supposed to be romantic."

I began to play, sight-reading the piece as best I could. My first run through was rough — Hermione's expression was enough to know that — but I was able to get through it.

"I adore you, Lila, but if someone wanted to serenade me with that I think I'd file a restraining order."

I chuckled at this. "I know I'm more than a bit rusty. Anne was very good at it. Flawless, even. She sounded even better when her friend was there to play the piano."

Hermione sat beside me on my bed, looking thoughtfully at the sheet music.

"Have you talked to Dumbledore?" She asked.

"I tried," I replied. "He's not here."

Hermione sighed. "He's never here." She patted me on the shoulder. "I appreciate you telling me though, as crazy as it all sounds. I hope he'll know what's going on when he gets back."

"Yes," I agreed. "I hope so too."

Wanting to practice more, I bid Hermione goodbye, and she went down to the common room to do her homework. I focused now on memorization, and improving the fluidity of the song. It sounded marginally better by the end, but nowhere close to perfect.

I couldn't make it perfect in a day, and that was almost enough to discourage me. But if I wanted to connect with her, I knew I should keep trying. For myself, and for Anne.