It felt like I was at Kings Cross again all too soon. My father didn't want to let me go, but he did after a long embrace.

"Stay safe, Lila," he told me. "I love you. Make Anne proud."

He'd been saying "I love you" more after reading the letter. It was a heartwarming and bittersweet gesture. "I love you too." I replied.

When I set foot on the train and stepped into my usual compartment, I was pleased to find Dean already there. His letter had been the only other thing occupying my thoughts besides my bloodline. It gave me something to look forward to when returning to Hogwarts.

"Morning," I greeted him with a teasing smile. He turned around, seeming unsure what to say. He wore a hoodie and sweatpants.

"Morning," he greeted me as well. "How were your holidays?"

"Certainly dampened, but manageable," I said truthfully. I levitated my trunk into the compartment. "Yours?"

"They were nice. My stepdad brought his cousins over for the first time, so I guess we both met some relatives," Dean laughed nervously. I chuckled along with him. The two of us sat down across from each other. He was looking out the window, probably to avoid my gaze.

"Now about that letter," I began with a bat of my eyelashes. "You adore me, Thomas?"

"Who said that?" He asked, though a small grin gave him away.

"Your own words, of course." I hummed. "And that drawing you did. Incredible, by the way."

"Well, the subject really makes it," he smiled and blushed. "But I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," I told him. "It's kept my mind off of things." I rubbed the pendant between my fingers. I'd worn Anne's necklace since reading her letter. I didn't want to take it off, even in sleep.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I was thinking after all this is over I'd like to take you on a date."

Though I suspected he'd ask, it didn't stop my face from growing warm or my speech becoming stammered.

"I— sure, I'd love that," I managed, bashful. "What were you thinking?"

"Well, we'll get to go to Hogsmeade, next year," Dean suggested. "The cute little town near the school. I'm sure there are a few places there to go, if you're up for it."

Next year felt like so long from now. Dean was always so optimistic, always so hopeful that everything would be fine. What if it wasn't? What if we couldn't stop Voldemort? What if Dean was the one to die?

"Of course," I said anyway. "That sounds perfect." 

"I know it's probably a bad time, and you have other things to worry about," he reasoned. "I just wanted to give you something to look forward to, you know?"

I smiled at him. He always knew what to say. "Thank you."

The train took off shortly after, and I spent the ride joking and laughing with my friends, sneaking glances at Dean while he was laughing with Seamus or Neville. His face was flushed and his eyes were such a warm, rich shade of brown I couldn't help but admire them.

I'd never had a boyfriend before, never been on a date. I wondered what it would be like to have that hoodie wrapped around me, or hold his hand in a romantic way. I spent a lot of the train ride daydreaming, as well.

Next year couldn't come fast enough.

As much as I missed my home and my father, I was very glad to be back at Hogwarts. Dean and I found Harry and Ron in the common room, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey," I waved to them. "How are you? How'd the interrogation go? Where's Hermione?"

"Hermione's in the Hospital Wing," Harry explained. Seeing my panicked face, he spoke quickly. "She's fine! Turns out the hair she grabbed was from Millicent's cat. She'll be out in a week — Madam Pomfrey still has to dewhisker her."

"Oh no," I frowned. "I'll go visit her. Any news on Malfoy?"

"He's not the Heir," Ron grimaced. "And he doesn't know who it is either. How'd your dad take the news?"

"Quite well," I said, though I didn't elaborate. Adam Holmes had always been resilient and adaptable. As much as the truth hurt he was willing to accept it much more easily than I was.

"Any idea who it could be?" Harry asked. I pursed my lips. I didn't want to admit my relation to Voldemort. Especially not to Harry. What if he didn't want to speak to me again?

"Same guy as always," I said vaguely. At his perplexed look, I added, "I'm going to go fill Hermione in. I'll be right back."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Dean asked. I shook my head.

"I can go by myself — Slytherin's monster won't attack me," I told him. "You should stay and unpack your things."

"If you say so," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll see you all soon," I told them. I didn't bother to take my bag off my shoulder, leaving quickly for the Hospital Wing. There was only so long I could keep this up. Even in the mostly empty corridors the present students stopped their conversations to stare at me as I marched down the hall. I avoided their gazes, but I could feel their eyes on my back and hear their whispers.

I supposed people knowing I was related to one blood supremacist lunatic was better than them knowing I was related to two.

I made it to the Hospital Wing and found Hermione's bed circled by a curtain. I knocked on her handrail.

"Can I see you?"

"Lila!" She squealed from inside. "You're back! Yes, you can, but be warned I look hideous."

I peered inside, closing the curtain behind me. Hermione didn't actually look that bad. She still had ears at the top of her head and what I thought to be a tail, but the black and grey hair seemed to be gone from the rest of her.

"It's not that bad," I said, though I bit back a grin. It was a little ridiculous. She scoffed.

"Yes, well, last week I was coughing up hairballs, so at least you weren't there for that."

At my incredulous look, she broke into a laugh.

"I'm messing with you," she giggled. "Oh, you should have seen your face!"

"Hilarious, Hermione," I rolled my eyes at her. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"It certainly could have been worse," she agreed. "Though it's slowed a lot of our progress. We've gotten no new leads, and even though the Heir hasn't attacked anyone yet it's only a matter of time."

I frowned. I couldn't tell her either, as much as I wanted to. I didn't think she'd push me away, but I didn't want to risk it.

"For all I know, I could be the Heir," I said glumly.

"You're not," she shook her head. "Apparently Malfoy didn't say a thing. But don't be discouraged by that! There have to be other descendants we don't know about. I mean, Harry's also a Parselmouth—"

"Harry's a what?!" I raised my voice and she promptly shushed me.

"I thought you knew!" She hissed.

"What?!" I scoffed and whispered. "You think we're in some secret snake-speak cult or something? No, I didn't know!"

"Sorry!" Hermione quickly apologized. "A lot has happened. I think we all forgot you weren't there for that. Stupid Pansy."

I shrugged. "She's been alright, lately. Not sure what changed her mind."

"I wish I knew," Hermione shook her head. "Were your holidays alright? Did you find out anything else?"

I pursed my lips. "No."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Lila?"

I averted my eyes. "Is there anything else you need from me before I go?"

Hermione stared at me as if debating whether or not to probe deeper, then finally sighed.

"Could you check to make sure we didn't leave anything behind in the bathroom?" She asked. "I was admittedly a little panicked so I'm not sure I cleaned up all of the materials. I've been worried about it ever since."

I tried not to sigh in relief.

"I'll go now, then," I nodded. "Anything to bring you peace of mind."

"Thank you, thank you," she said with a smile. "Try not to be too discouraged Lila. Remember the people that care about you are on your side."

"Of course," I smiled at her. "I'll visit you again tomorrow, alright?"

This seemed to reassure her. "Alright!"

I ran into Malfoy as I left for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He nodded when he saw me, and doubled back to walk beside me. The students nearby averted their eyes as he glared at them. I found myself amused at his behavior.

"What are you, my guard dog?"

"Can it, Holmes." He snapped at me under his breath. I grinned.

"How were your holidays?" I asked. "You stayed here, did you not?"

"They were alright," he shrugged. "Though Crabbe and Goyle were acting pretty strange."

"Really?" I stifled a giggle. "How so?"

"Well they didn't laugh at my jokes—"

"Maybe you just aren't funny."

He ignored me. "—and Goyle was wearing glasses. Crabbe said he had a stomachache and both of them dashed off and then the next time I saw them they said they'd been drugged and shoved in a broom cupboard." He scoffed. "It was an elaborate prank, but I wasn't fooled."

"Right," I chuckled to myself. Drugged and shoved in a broom cupboard—

"What's that face for?" He scowled.

"Oh, nothing." I grinned. I realized we were in front of the bathroom and came to a quick stop. "Here's my destination."

Luckily, nobody seemed to be in this corridor. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at me.

"You get more and more suspicious every day," he said. "You know this is where everything started."

"And that's exactly why I'm here," I said mysteriously. It was easier with Malfoy to talk about it. He knew now it wasn't me. He tried to follow me, but I stopped him.

"Ah, ah. Girl's bathroom," I winked. "I'll see you later, Malfoy. Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried," he rolled his eyes. "But don't get yourself hurt. We have that draught project next week, remember?"

"Already done," I grinned. "Ask somebody for my notes."

Despite his protest, I shut the door in his face. I walked into the bathroom. Myrtle was perched on the windowsill, looking at me tearfully.

"You again?" She asked. "Come to make fun of me?"

"No, I was trying to make sure we didn't leave anything incriminating in here." I peered into the stall we were working in. Nothing. "Why? Were you doing something?"

"No. I was just trying to cry in peace," Myrtle snapped.

"My apologies, then," I said, bending down to inspect the floor. My necklace came loose from my blouse. "You can go back to crying.

I stood and turned, but Myrtle stopped me.

"Wait!" She cried, flying uncomfortably close to me to peer at my neck. "Where did you get that?"

For the first time, I truly studied her appearance. Her hair was oddly familiar, and her stature. Her fingers were deft and long, fingers I had seen play the piano alongside Anne.

"You!" I cried. "You're Myrtle Warren. The one that—"

"Died?" She said flatly.

"The one that gave Anne this necklace," I held it up to her so she could see, the initials M.W. now clearer than ever to me. "I'm her granddaughter."

She opened and closed her mouth wordlessly. "Granddaughter?" She said faintly. I could have only imagined what this information had done to her, so I tried to backpedal.

"I never really knew her. I just found out a few weeks ago. She died long before I could meet her anyway." I said. Myrtle came ever closer, peering at me through her round glasses.

"You look like her," this was the quietest I'd heard Myrtle ever be. Her voice was much more recognizable when she wasn't screaming. "Almost the same face."

"I wish I was as pretty as she was," I said abashedly. Myrtle laughed sadly.

"We all did." She admitted. She suddenly shook her head. "But that's no matter. She hadn't come back to see me, even. Not even as a ghost. Funny how you can tell someone you love her and then disappear from her life. Or death, I suppose."

I opened and closed my mouth, unsure what to say. "Maybe she just didn't want to put you in danger."

Myrtle scoffed. "Put me in danger? Ha! I was already dead! I came back to see her you know, just one last time, but instead I ended up haunting Olive Hornby until she graduated. Now I just haunt my sad little loo where I died."

"How did you die?" I asked, looking around at the bathroom. I found it strange how Myrtle grew excited.

"Thank you for asking!" She beamed. "I was using the bathroom. This one here, see," she gestured to her stall, "when I heard a boys voice over by that sink over there." She pointed. Immediately, I rushed over, investigating the sink as she continued to talk.

"I told him off, said 'this is a girls room, you can't be in here!' And then I peaked through the crack in the stall and met a big, scary pair of eyes—"

I gasped, my thumb finding an irregularity. Engraved on one of the taps was a small snake. I stared in disbelief.

"And then, that was it." I turned back to Myrtle, who had feigned falling and dying in the air. She giggled. "Good story, isn't it?"

"Sure," I said slowly. "Thank you Myrtle. That helps a lot, really."

I looked at the sink once more. It made sense. This truly was where it all started.

This is it, I thought. It has to be. The entrance to the Chamber.

It was time for me, the most recent of Slytherin's descendants, to right many generations of wrongs.

"Myrtle," I said suddenly. "I'll be back tonight."

She huffed. "I'll be in the Prefect's bathroom, then. I quite like my quiet time."

* * *

Hermione,
I went after the Chamber. I know where it is now, and if I can figure out how to open it I'm going to try and investigate. If anyone should do it, it's me. I'm only sneaking off because you'll talk me out of it, and I don't want you or anyone else to get hurt. If I don't come back, talk to Myrtle.

I finished my note and tucked it under her sheets. I made a few changes to my most recent mind map so Hermione could pick up on my work if need be. It was about midnight. Armed with a makeup mirror and my wand, I slipped out of the common room and back to Myrtle's bathroom. I felt vaguely as though I was being watched, though I always felt like that with the portraits surrounding me.

Myrtle was gone as she'd said, though the quiet was eerie. I used the wand before me to illuminate my surroundings, looking around still only with the mirror. I reached the sink with no event. It was so still I could feel my heart in my throat.

"Open," I told it. The sink sank through the floor revealing a pipe large enough for a man to slide through. I looked down, trying to see how far it would go, but it was bottomless. I took a tentative step forward, peering closer.

"You won't want to do that."

I jumped, nearly falling in but catching myself on the neighboring sink. Ginny stood beside me, her eyes strangely vacant.

"Ginny?" I backed away. "What's going on? What are you—"

"Expelliarmus!" She cried suddenly, and I felt myself and my wand being thrown through the air and falling against the side of the wall. My wand was gone. I was rendered defenseless.

"Cut it out, Ginny!" I tried, sensing something was terribly wrong. "You can't do this, I'm so close—"

"Stupefy!"

The world started to go dark. It was only a few seconds that I held on to consciousness. I felt a sharp pain to the palm of my hand before I blacked out.