<Disclaimer: We own Kate and Kira, although they'd probably have quite a few things to say about that if they knew. HFA belongs to Meir Brin and is being used with her permission. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. But you knew that already, didn't you?

Chapter 22
Vambiolaria

Breakfast was interesting, to say the least.

“They actually expect us to eat this stuff?” Kate squeaked, looking scandalized, as she stared into a steaming tureen of Tantaflaf.

“Well yeah, we’ve only been eating it all semester,” Ally reminded her, spooning up some of the sticky pink goo.

“Oh…right. I forgot,” Kate muttered, sitting down on the bench at the Canonlaw table. However, sitting brought her to eye-level with the table, so with a grumble she stood up again.

Ally was giving Kate another funny look. “You really do have a bad memory, don’t you.”

“She…hit her head a few days ago,” Kira said, lumbering over to the bench.

Ally nodded understandingly. “Were you being chased by the Minis?”

“Er, yes,” Kate said, as Kira sat down at the bench.

Abruptly there was a loud cracking sound, and the bench broke beneath the half-golem. There was a resounding bang as Kira landed on the ground, looking very surprised. The two remaining sides of the bench rose up at the ends, and students began toppling onto her. Kate yelped and jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being squashed beneath the heavier humans.

“EEK! Kira, are you okay?” she squealed as the bench broke completely in half and dropped back down. The house-elf dashed over to the groaning pile of humans on top of her stony friend and began fruitlessly yanking on various items of clothing, trying to remove the students from Kira.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Kira muttered scathingly, pushing herself up. Those students who had not already got up of their own will yelped as they tumbled aside. “Apart from no longer being able to sit on anything.” “Looks like a bunch of people won’t be doing any sitting here. Ooh, what a MESS!” Kate gasped as she saw the splintered pieces of wood lying across the floor where Kira had broken the bench. Instantly she scuttled over and began picking up pieces. “Someone will step on these and get a splinter through their foot, what a mess, what a mess we is having to clean up…”

Kira blinked. “Um…Kate?”

“Don’t bother Kate!” Kate squeaked, busily lifting splinters off the wood. “She is having to get this up before anyone gets hurt, she is…”

“KATE!” Kira yelped. “You’re acting like a House-elf!”

“Of course I--” Kate suddenly stopped, her urply-wilver eyes wide, looked down at the wood in her hands, and dropped it as if it were on fire. She backed away, blinking.

“I…got a strange urge to clean…” she muttered. “I couldn’t stop myself…”

“There you go again,” said Kira, seeing that a group of students were watching Kate curiously. “You have to get those House-elf instincts of yours control. Ha ha!” she laughed weakly. Kate whimpered.

“Now I know how you felt,” she muttered quietly. “Must…not…clean!”

Kira stared at her concernedly, for Kate looked very frightened. She was about to say something comforting but was interrupted by a stern voice slicing through the air like a knife.

“Who is responsible for this?” the voice called, and the students turned to see Professor McGonagall, looking aghast at the damage done. A hush fell over the crowd. No fingers were pointed, but hundreds of eyes flicked towards Kira. Kira hunched over slightly, trying to make herself unnoticeable, but stone people don’t fit in well with crowds. McGonagall strode through the crowd until she was standing in front of Kira.

“What is your name?” McGonagall asked sternly.

“K-kira.”

“Are you responsible for this blatant damage of school property?”

“Please, Professor, it wasn’t her fault!” Kate squeaked. “She’s half-golem, so she’s very heavy--”

“Gee, thanks,” Kira muttered.

“And she didn’t do anything but sit down. It was an accident!” Kate finished. McGonagall eyed her.

“Shouldn’t you be in the kitchens?” she asked.

“What?” Kate blinked. “No! I’m not a House-elf, I’m a student!”

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“We’re reclusive,” Kate said for what seemed like the six hundredth time that day.

“What is your name?”

“Kate.”

McGonagall continued to direct her unreadable stare at the girls. After a moment that seemed like an eternity, she glanced at the broken bench and then back at Kira.

“As this was an accident, you will not receive detention. I trust, however, that we will not see a repeat of this incident?” she said.

“Yes'm,” Kira responded guiltily. "I'm very sorry about this, ma'am."

“Good. Off to class with the both of you.”

McGonagall watched as the two students obediently scuttled towards the door (well, “scuttled” really wasn’t a term you could apply to a half-golem…) with her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Minerva McGonagall did not by any means possess a bad memory, and she was quite sure she had never seen either of those girls before. Perhaps she should check the roster, although she was very sure she would have remembered a half-golem and a House-elf. She would need to--

But the Transfiguration Professor’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a newer--and much more sinister--occurrence.

The doors to the Great Hall were flung open, and there in the spread of the wide doors stood…well…

It was taller than a House-elf, but shorter than a human. It was extremely strange in appearance, but at the same time flawlessly beautiful, with large liquid sapphire-blue eyes and long, soft-skinned hands and limbs. It gazed around at the Hall full of people staring at it, and with a soft sigh flung itself into the crowd.

McGonagall groaned and directed her wand at the creature, which looked up at her with such a heartbreaking expression that the professor nearly lost control of herself. Nevertheless, McGonagall stood firm until the students had all safely gotten out of the hall.

“Remus!” Professor McGonagall called as the werewolf professor edged to the doors. “Have you been immunized?”

“Not recently,” Lupin said, looking fearfully at the lovely creature. “Wait, is that…?”

"It’s very likely. Go find someone who has, we'll need to get her into quarantine."

Professor Lupin made a dash for the doors. The students were completely gone by now. All except for two unusual girls, who were peering out from the shadows of the door…

“Is that who I think it is?” Kate gasped, her eyes wide.

“Probably,” Kira said, and gulped.

Somehow, this was probably their fault too.

*****

Meir Brin felt strangely content, as she rested in the Aerobics Lair. Naturally, feelings of relaxation didn’t come often to anyone at the Hogwarts Fanfiction Academy, and she relished the sensation. A couple of the canon characters were chatting in the corner, Dobby the House-Elf was nursing a nasty bruise obtained in a scuffle with a fangirl, and every now and then a distant scream of terror or pain could be heard. Things were going rather smoothly that day.

Yes, Meir Brin thought as she relaxed, completely forgetting the Universal Laws of Comedy, perhaps today would be a good day…

“Another student has Vambiolaria.”

Or not.

“What?!” Meir Brin jerked upright, staring at Remus Lupin, who was panting in the doorway and looking as if he’d run across the castle.

“One of the students has Vambiolaria. She showed up in the Great Hall just now…” Lupin ran a hand across his brow, and leaned against the wall.

“Damn. We must not have quarantined the Lusterbuffs quickly enough. Which student?” Meir Brin questioned urgently.

“I’m pretty sure it was Andtauriel Longwood.”

A shrill shriek issued from the corner of the Lair.

“Andtauriel Longwood has Vambiolaria?! Dobby fears for his life!” the House-elf shrieked, and began to run around the room in panic. “Someone hide Dobby!”

“We’ll have to get her contained. Where is she?” Meir Brin asked, hurrying towards the doorway.

“The Great Hall. Professor McGonagall is keeping an eye on her.” Lupin collapsed into a chair. His forehead was slick with sweat, and his breathing seemed slightly labored.

“Are you feeling all right?” Meir Brin asked, eyeing him worriedly. “You don’t look so good.”

“I…I don’t…” Lupin muttered, but what he didn’t no one ever found out, because the werewolf professor abruptly fainted.

A general outcry of surprise rose from the canon characters. Meir Brin stared at the fallen professor fearfully.

“Everyone who hasn’t been vaccinated, stay away from him. Everyone who has, follow me to the Great Hall,” Meir Brin ordered. “We haven't got enough Kuswort with all the Lusterbuffs still infected, and we can’t risk an epidemic.”

*****

Unfortunately, an epidemic was what the Hogwarts Fanfiction Academy seemed to be facing. Students and canon characters alike were dropping like flies from the onslaught of Vambiolaria, and there wasn’t enough Kuswort for the lot. Hermione and Ginny had, naturally, been the first in line for immunizations, being so susceptible to the disease, and were shortly joined by Meir Brin and the rest of the major Canon characters. By the time most of the professors had gotten vaccinated, there wasn’t nearly enough serum left for the students, and the Hospital Wing had been transformed into a containment camp for those stricken with the dreaded Mary Sue disease. Those who were lucky enough to avoid infection were immediately enlisted to help with the care of the school's few precious Kuswort seeds outside the castle.

It had been one full day now since Kate and Kira appeared in HFA. In the wake of the Vambiolaria epidemic, their detentions seemed to have been temporarily forgotten. Due to not really being Canonlaws, neither had had a bed to sleep in that night and had to make due with the Common Room furniture. Kate had managed quite well on a throw pillow while Kira occupied the cushions from the sofa that the pillow had previously been thrown onto (the sofa itself collapsed when she sat on it.) Apart from having nearly no idea what was going on in the classes, the two were able to stay out of the way of the professors and real students reasonably well, as long as Kira didn't sit on anything wooden. And luckily, Kate knew the Harry Potter canon like the back of her hand (when Unsued) and Kira had a very firm grasp on it herself, so they were able to scrape their way through the classes they slipped into with only relative difficulty. They managed to learn that the date was now sometime in late May, a few weeks before the release of the fifth Harry Potter book.

Kira's sudden change from being relatively humanoid to being made of stone had rendered her rather ungainly and clumsy. She had tripped the other day and nearly landed on Kate, much to the distress of both parties involved. People gave her a wide berth after that, which was probably a good idea as Kira seemed to break pretty much anything she sat or stood on that wasn’t stone. She’d reduced three more benches and two chairs to splinters before she quit sitting entirely.

However, one good thing came out of being made of stone. The Minis kept as far away from her as possible. It probably has something to do with the fact that she was supernaturally strong and could crush them like, well, bugs, if the need arose.

Kate had taken to either trailing closely behind Kira or sitting on her shoulder when the two were going anywhere, because people tended to step on or trip over her when she didn’t. Plus, the Minis' fear didn't extend to her, so staying close to Kira meant they left her alone. Everyone avoided Kira easily enough, so Kate chose to stick with her. In which case she ran the risk of being fallen upon herself, but she figured that if someone was going to step on her it might as well be someone who was actually being careful about it. Draco Malfoy and his Mini-Aragogs seemed to form a special dislike for her after during a moment she was separated from Kira he tripped over her in front of Fleur Delacour.

Kate and Kira’s turn at planting Kuswort came just before lunch.

“Ewww. Even the seeds smell nasty,” Kate muttered, holding her hand, which was full of Kuswort seeds, as far away from her nose as possible as she stood on a large overturned bucket in front of the table of gardening supplies.

“It’s not that bad to me,” Kira said innocently, attempting to pick up one of the tiny seeds with her cumbersome fingers. Since being turned into a giant living statue a couple of her senses, namely taste, smell, and touch, had been severely cut back. This made it much easier to keep down Tantaflaf and endure the potting of Kuswort, but her stone fingers didn’t help at all.

The glares of the more badly suffering students didn’t make things much better either.

“Meh,” Kate grumbled, pinching her nose shut as she sprinkled a couple of seeds into a pot. The students who had as of yet managed to avoid contracting Vambiolaria did likewise, taking the utmost care of the valuable seeds. At the rate the Mary Sue disease was popping up in HFA, Kuswort was going to be an endangered species soon. Heck, it probably already was.

"Look at all this dirt," Kate muttered quietly, gesturing to the floor.

"Kate," Kira said. "It's a greenhouse. Of course there's lots of dirt. You're letting those House-elf instincts get to you again."

"I can't help it," Kate said, shuddering slightly. "I see dirt and I automatically think 'CLEAN!' It's really weird. I'm usually a complete slob."

"You think cleaning and cooking and housework is really part of a House-elf's genetics?" Kira wondered.

"Dunno. What kind of creature evolves to do housework?" Kate wondered.

"Got me."

"Why so interested in House-elves, anyway?" Kate asked her.

Kira shrugged. "I guess they're just kind of interesting. I mean, what kind of creature devotes its life to being a slave?"

"I might understand liking to do things for people, I guess," Kate muttered. "But House-elves get treated so badly. The Malfoys, the Crouches, the Diggorys…"

"Maybe Hermione's got something with S.P.E.W., eh?" Kira said thoughtfully.

"Yeah! Think she's still running it here?" Kate asked.

"Less talking, more potting, muggles!" a familiar voice shouted, causing quite a few of the girls to faint right at their tables. Draco Malfoy sneered contemptuously at the fallen girls from the door and slicked back his blonde hair. Kira wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"What do they see in him?" she grumbled. "So he's somewhat attractive. He wouldn't care one way or the other if they all died of Vambiolaria!"

Kate looked up from her pot. "Maybe you have to be a little masochistic to be a Draco Malfoy fangirl. That, or just really delusional about his personality. The guy's a slimeball."

"I really don't get why he has so many lusters. He's sorta cute--in his own little freakish way--but what a complete asshole!" Kira muttered.

A couple of their neighbors were glaring at the two girls by now, but they didn't notice. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes at them from the doorway.

"I think he heard us," Kate whispered.

Kira snorted with derision. "So?"

The bell rang, and the girls stood up and began brushing dust off their hands. Draco Malfoy fingered his wand, glaring at the girls as if daring them to even think about glomping him. Kate and Kira followed up last, pointedly making idle chat and not looking at Draco. Kate was mid-sentence when she suddenly tripped and landed face down on the ground. Kira reached down to help her up, and both noticed the swift movement of Draco pulling his leg back.

"Hey! What the hell was that for?!" Kira snarled, pulling the House-elf to her feet.

"What, you think I did that?" Draco sneered. "Your little friend needs to watch where she's going."

"Cummon, Kira, let's get out of here," Kate muttered, rubbing her nose where it had been scraped on the ground and glaring at Malfoy.

"Listen to her," Draco advised, smirking at Kira and lifting his wand so that it was in plain view. "You don't want to get in any trouble. Why don't you run down and help get lunch ready? That's all you’re good for." This last part he addressed to Kate, who looked at him murderously.

"Ferret," she hissed, and Malfoy blanched slightly. Kira chuckled evilly.

"Watch your mouth. Both of you," Malfoy ordered. "Or you'll end up in more trouble than you're worth."

"Is that so?" Kira asked, crossing her arms with a loud grating of stone and tapping her heavy fingers against her stone arms. Kate suddenly wondered what kind of effect a wizard's spells would have on a half-golem. Golems were magical creatures…would being made of stone cause her to be less vulnerable to curses and spells?

Malfoy may have been struck by the same thought, because a trace of doubt flickered in his gray eyes. His hand holding his wand was steady, though.

"Let's go, we don't want to miss lunch," Kate muttered, trying to remind Kira that they were supposed to be playing the part of reclusive students.

"Yeah…lunch," Kira muttered, with one last glare at Malfoy, and she and Kate started down the hall. Malfoy himself began to sweep off in the opposite direction.

*****

The Great Hall was uncommonly empty. With the absence of so many students, due to Vambiolaria, the Great Hall seemed even greater than normal. The students' voices echoed in the emptiness, and the great blank spaces at the benches were rather disconcerting. The students’ talk was slightly hushed.

A girl was walking down the table, a flask of pumpkin juice in her hand, her footsteps echoing through the Hall. Someone else was approaching from the opposite way. Suddenly, the girl gave a yelp, shortly followed by a splash, another yelp (this time from Kira), and a grating of stone on stone as Kira jumped. Kate looked up in surprise.

Kira, a shocked expression on her face, stood there dripping pumpkin juice.

“Aaargh!” she groaned, her voice oddly slow. “What’s happening?”

“Are you alright?” Kate asked, inspecting her friend. “It’s just a bit of pumpkin juice.”

“Can’t move…” Kira’s eyes were wide and panicked. Kate glanced at her face and yelped in horror. The magical mark upon Kira’s forehead was melting, dripping down her face into a shapeless splotch of ink.

“AAACK! Your mark! It’s being washed off!” Kate shrieked. Kira’s eyes widened--very slowly.

"Noo! Why…me? Why does everything…always happen…to…me…Sh--" Kira moaned, her voice slowing as the mark on her forehead was washed away and she froze. Her finger gave a final twitch as she raised it to her forehead and she was rendered completely immobile.

Kate stared in silence.

The silence didn't last very long.

"AAAAAAAUGH!" she shrieked, pointing at the statue of Kira. Her jaw hung open, and her eyes bugged out, making her face look even more grotesque than usual.

"AAAAAUGH!" she screamed again, looking to the students, and then back to Kira with another "AAAAAAUGH!"

There was another brief silence and a collective gape from the students. Kate let out another high-pitched shriek and launched herself at her stony friend.

"Kira! KIRA!" she shrieked, poking Kira somewhere around the knee in an attempt to get her to respond. "NOO!”

“What’s all this commotion about?”

Kate looked up to see Professors Flitwick and Snape striding down between the tables (closely followed by a small band of drooling Snape fangirls) towards her. She began yelping tearfully and pointing at her friend.

“HELP! She’sahalf-golemandhermark'sbeenerasedandnowshecan’tmoveandshe’snotmoving! HELP!”

“Quiet, you silly girl, crying won’t help anything,” Snape snapped, eyeing the Kira-statue. Kate bit her lip and shuffled her feet.

“Can you fix her?”

“Oh, it’s a very simple matter,” Professor Flitwick said cheerfully, walking around the statue. “All you have to do is replace the mark that was on her forehead. I believe there is only a minimal amount of magic involved.”

“Really?” Kate brightened up considerably. “Great! I…oh wait…” Her eyes opened wide in panic again. “I don’t remember what it looked like! I don’t know how to draw it!”

“Then I suppose your friend is in a bit of a jam,” Flitwick said.

“You can’t do anything for her?” Kate asked. “You’re just going to let her stand here?!”

“Of course not,” Snape said, apparently finished inspecting the statue. He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “We’ll move her out into the hall. She’s in the way out here.”

“WHAT?! You’re not going to try and fix her?”

Snape scowled. “I have more important things to do than muss about with a half-golem,” he said, and turned with a sweep of his robes, brushing past his fangirls.

“I shall certainly give the matter thought,” Flitwick assured Kate, who didn’t look very placated. “Wingardium Leviosa.”

Kira began to hover a few inches off the ground, and Flitwick guided her towards the doors with his wand.

“You’re not going to help?” Kate whined, trailing after Flitwick as he followed the statue to the doors.

“My dear, I have a class to conduct in three minutes. You might try to find someone who isn’t similarly occupied at the moment,” Flitwick suggested as he and Kate made their way through the doors to the Great Hall, where he set Kira down outside the doors. “Good luck.”

Kate moaned as Flitwick trundled off to his class and stared at the statue of her friend. She sighed resignedly.

“Well, this is inconvenient,” she said, addressing the statue. “But I’ll find someone who can help. I’m not completely useless.”

Funny, two days ago this would have made her wail loudly enough to disturb the whole castle. Today, it just didn’t seem worth it. It was like Snape had said--crying never solved anything. And all she really needed was someone intelligent and well-versed in magic enough to know how to revive a golem, and nice enough to actually care that Kate was trying to save a friend. And, preferably, someone who liked House-elves.

Kate knew just the person.

*****

Hermione Granger, her arms full of her characteristic pile of books, was making her way to the library. Being a teacher, she reflected as she walked, was an interesting experience, especially when one's pupils were stuffed to the brim with raging hormones and one ran the risk of contracting a deadly Mary Sue disease almost constantly. She had a newfound respect for the Hogwarts professors after her time at HFA. Who knew teaching could be such a difficult profession?

“Professor Granger!”

Hermione turned around, looking for the source of the voice. Her brow wrinkled with confusion when she saw no one, but a tug at the hem of her robes drew her gaze downward until she spotted the House-elf.

“Excuse me, Professor Granger, are you busy?” it asked, with surprisingly good grammar for a House-elf.

“No, not currently,” Hermione said, wondering why she was being addressed by a House-elf. The mark of a good House-elf was that no one knew it was there, and since she began trying to free them in her fourth year, the Hogwarts House-elves had developed a slight dislike for her. Poor deluded things, fearing freedom so much…

“Oh good,” the House-elf sighed. “I need your help.”

“Is there a problem in the kitchens? I think you’d do better to ask one of the older--”

“Oh, no, I’m a student. I’m not a real House-elf,” the House-elf explained, shaking her head. “My name is Kate. By the way,” she said, perking up, “It’s a huge honor to meet you. You’re my favorite character in the Harry Potter books.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, reminding herself that the student may have just been buttering her up. “I hope you’re not going to ask me to set you up with one of my friends, because I won’t do it,” she informed Kate. Best not to beat around the bush, as that was usually what students came to her for when they wanted help.

“I’m not looking for that kind of help. It’s my friend, Kira. She’s in a bit of trouble,” Kate explained.

“I can’t get her out of a detention or hide her either, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, nothing like that,” Kate said. “She’s half-golem, and she accidentally got turned to stone when the mark on her forehead got erased. I thought that you might be able to help, if you’re not busy.” She looked up at Hermione hopefully. Hermione looked back, considering the situation. It seemed harmless enough, and it was true that she really wasn’t doing anything at the moment.

“All right, I’ll see if I can help,” Hermione said. “I was on my way to the library anyway. We’ll need to do some research on golems.”

Kate grinned brightly. “Oh, thank you! She’s right outside the Great Hall. I was worried--"

She was interrupted abruptly by a rude snort.

"Well, well. What a shame. So you don't have that big lumbering oaf of a muggle to hide behind anymore, eh?"

Kate looked up to see Draco Malfoy, leaning against the wall and sneering. He nodded towards Hermione.

"So naturally, you run to the House-elf-loving Mudblood. Fine choice! She's the only one stupid enough to actually want to help you."

"This isn't any of your business, Malfoy," Hermione said evenly.

"Kira is not a lumbering oaf," Kate said suddenly. Malfoy glanced at her and smirked.

"She was heavy enough, the fat idiot.”

“Don’t you dare talk about her that way!” Kate yelled fiercely.

“You know, I never thought tripping one stupid luster would have that much of an effect on her,” Malfoy mused with mock thoughtfulness. Kate gasped sharply.

“You did that, didn’t you? You jerk! How could you do that to her?!” she cried.

“Just ignore him,” Hermione advised her. “He’s not worth it.”

“Shut up, mudblood,” Malfoy snapped. “Besides, who cares about the stupid git anyway? She shouldn't have tried to be anything but the pitiful muggle she is. And look at where it got her! At least she won't be able to damage any more school property. What did you say her name was? Oh yes, Kira, Kira the Living Destroyer of Furniture! Well, then again, she's not too lively anymore, is she?" Malfoy laughed sadistically.

Rage welled up within Kate and she glared at the wizard, her skinny arms trembling at her sides, her fists clenched tight with fury.

In the week that had passed, Kate had been torn from the sanctity of her home to be brainwashed and lusted after, attacked by wights and assassins, chased, shot at, almost eaten by a giant spider, and nearly blown up. She had watched innocent girls die right in front of her, and could only watch helplessly as her best friend slowly followed after. She had seen her idol and hero been taken advantage of, and had looked on uselessly as he struggled on in pain through a living nightmare. She had been forced to go into places that were more terrifying than anything she had ever had nightmares about…

In the past few days, she had been through more horrors than the sick, twisted mind of Draco Malfoy could dream of…

And one of the only reasons--besides her own strength, her desperate desire to save Middle-Earth (and get home after doing so), and a whole lot of luck--she had managed to survive it was standing frozen in the Great Hall because of this sniveling, simpering fool.

Kate had had enough.

“You idiotic, muggle-hating, shit-brained excuse for a wizard!” she exploded, screaming at the top of her lungs, her eyes blazing. She poured all the anger and frustration and futility she had been feeling for the past week into her every word. “You dim-witted piece of maggot-infested refuse! You slimeball! Don’t you ever think? Wait, no, you can't; you're mentally-deficient from all that pure-blood wizard inbreeding! Go crawl back under your rock, you greasy-haired bleach addict!”

She’d managed to draw a response. Malfoy gritted his teeth, glaring furiously at Kate.

“You just don't know what's good for you, do you? Watch that mouth of yours, Elf,” he hissed, his eyes narrowed to slits. “It’s going to get you in trouble one day.”

“Oh I just tremble with fear,” Kate said caustically, her voice positively dripping sarcasm. With another furious glare at her, Malfoy spun on his heel and stalked down the hall, his black robes sweeping like a vampire’s cape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Hermione advised her, quite surprised that such a seemingly meek person could get that angry.

“Why not?” Kate snapped. “He has no right to talk to you like that! Or me, for that matter! Or Kira! He has no idea what she’s been though lately, the insignificant worm! If he--”

“Calm down!” Hermione said, her eyes wide. "Just ignore him. And if I were you, I’d stay out of his way now.”

“I’m not afraid of that inbred, cue-ball headed--”

“It’s not him you need to be afraid of.”

“What do I need to be afraid of?” Kate asked.

“Them,” Hermione said, pointing behind Kate at a seething wall of livid, panting Draco fangirls, all directing enraged glares at her. Not a few were clutching their quills in a surprisingly threatening manner.

“Meep,” Kate squeaked, her eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Run!” Hermione suggested, and Kate took off as fast as her short legs would take her, the screaming horde of Draco-lusters close on her heels.

*****

Draco Malfoy, as an enemy, may not have been as dangerous as, say, Lord Voldemort, but had his own ways of extracting revenge. A pissed off Draco Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with, one way or the other.

And that, Malfoy thought to himself, was exactly what that foolish little House-elf needed to learn.

The expression on the face of her stone friend was really quite amusing, in Malfoy’s opinion. Such utter frustration was etched into the half-golem’s face. It was a work of art, really. To see a Muggle finding that trying to be something she was not was a sure way to get herself in trouble was really quite amusing. It should be preserved for posterity. And preserve it, Draco Malfoy would.

It didn’t really matter if no one ever saw it again.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” the young pure-blood said sharply, after pulling out his wand and pointing it at the statue.

*****

“AAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“GET HER!”

“DRACO HATERS MUST DIE!”

“MOMMY!”

This was the general gist of the “conversation” as Kate ran for her life through the school halls from the raging fangirls. Kate reflected bitterly that she should have known by then that putting down anyone or anything who could be considered a lust object in a school full of rabid fangirls was hazardous to one's health.

Loosing them proved to be especially difficult. The rest of the girls had a much better grasp on the general layout of the castle than she did, having resided there much longer. Once or twice, Kate ended up trying to run through doors that weren’t doors at all or smacked into the wall behind a tapestry that she had been sure was actually hiding a passage. Hogwarts was extremely frustrating. One would think places that would hide someone three feet tall were easy to find in a giant castle…

Kate ran around a corner. She’d managed to knock a suit of armor down back in the last passage to slow the girls down and ducked through a tapestry that actually was covering something. She skidded to a stop suddenly, right in front of a giant picture of a bowl of fruit. Surrounding it were various other paintings portraying food or people eating. A glimmer of hope sparked in her heart as she spotted the large pear in the bowl.

“SHE WENT DOWN THERE!” someone screamed, and Kate lifted her hand to tickle the pear. She couldn’t reach! She was too small! They’d be on her in a second! She began to jump frantically, waving at the pear until finally her fingers brushed the surface of the painting. It was only the slightest touch, but it was just enough. The pear giggled and the painting swung open. Kate threw herself inside, and the painting slammed shut.

The horde of rabid fangirls thundered down the hall just as the painting closed.

“CHECK THE KITCHENS!” someone yelled, and uncountable pairs of hands began scratching at the pear, which yelped rather than giggled, and the painting swung open. A sea of confused House-elf faces stared at the girls as they piled into the kitchens, looking frantically around for a sight of the Draco-hating House-elf.

Kate was nowhere in sight.

“SHE’S NOT HERE!” one of the girls yelled, and the Draco-lovers stampeded out of the kitchens and continued down the hall. The painting slammed shut rather indignantly, and the House-elves all glanced with wide eyes from it, to each other, to a corner of the kitchens.

A rubbish bin, sitting innocently in the corner began to rock violently and tipped over. Kate tumbled out, covered in garbage, and panting heavily.

“Thank you GOD!” She gasped, standing up amid the waste. “Thank Eru, thank Manwe, thank…Eww! Elbereth Gilthoniel, eww!” she yelped, spotting the various forms of garbage clinging to her person.

“Er…who is you?”

Kate looked up from flicking bits of eggshell and potato peelings off her clothes into the faces of twenty or so house elves, all of whom were simultaneously staring at her and performing their kitchen duties.

Kate stared back.

After the ethereal, majestic Elves of Lórien (and the ethereal, majestic, leather-clad ones of OFUM), the sight of so many homely, one-track-minded creatures who took the same name and yet could not possibly be more different than Galadriel, Elrond, and the rest of Tolkien’s Elven-kind was disturbing on one level. It disturbed Kate even more to think that she was (however briefly, she hoped) one of those creatures.

“We wants to know who you is,” the House-elf who had first addressed her repeated. “We didn't know a new Elf was coming.”

“Oh, I’m not a House-elf.” Kate said. “I’m a student.”

The Elf jumped back suddenly.

“You is not Andtauriel Longwood, is you?” he (she? it?) yelped fearfully.

“No. My name is Kate.”

“Oh good.” The House-elf relaxed. “Er…what is you doing in the rubbish bin?”

“Hiding,” Kate said simply, wondering why the House-elf wasn’t simpering over her in the normal way they simpered over humans.

Perhaps because you’re not human, currently, Kate reminded herself. She was probably just another House-elf to them.

“Well…I’ll be going now,” she said politely to the House-elves. “Thanks for…not giving me away, I guess. It was nice to meet--" She stopped suddenly, staring at the garbage from the rubbish bin strewn across the floor. What a mess! What a nasty, dirty mess all over the nice clean floor…

Without realizing what she was doing, Kate had already righted the bin and bent over to pick up the trash. With a gasp she dropped the rubbish. She was succumbing to the House-elf instincts again!

“Hey! You is making it worse!” an elf cried, snatching trash off the ground. “You is needing to be more careful!”

“I’m sorry! I’m going now, really!” Kate said, backing towards the door.

But all that trash on the floor…and outside, there were probably lots of people who were hungry…and there were more messes…

She had to clean them!

NO! a voice wailed in the back of her mind, but her fingers were stretching towards an apple core and grasping it.

Surely she could just clean one little mess…

*****

Hermione may not have known the House-elfish student who had begged her for help in reviving her friend very well, but there was definitely something to be said for her general decency as a person. Not to mention that she had rather a soft spot when it came to House-elves. And besides, the day Hermione turned down a chance to go to the library was the day Hell froze over, Dobby returned willingly to the Malfoys, and George Bush formed a coherent sentence. Therefore, knowing that a single witch couldn't control an army of stampeding, hormone-driven fangirls and hoping that Kate would be able to find a place to hide, Hermione had promptly made her way to the library.

As golems were not particularly prolific in the Harry Potter canon thus far, Hermione had to search through rather a larger number of books to find what she was looking for. General information was easy to find, but diagrams of the magical marks that allowed a golem to function were not. Hermione had a nasty suspicion that she would need to find instructions on how to create a golem in order to find an appropriate picture. She had an even nastier suspicion that a book containing said information was in the Restricted Section. Though she was now a Professor at the Hogwarts Fanfiction Academy, she was still a student at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and thus for her the Restricted Section was still, well, restricted.

Given the situation, most people would have given up and left the work of finding the right book to the one who had originally asked them for help. Hermione, however, did not give up easily, and was intrigued by the idea. Creation of golems was something she did not know about, and that was unacceptable. Therefore, she would just need to find a way around the restriction. So Hermione did something then that a fan of Harry Potter books might not have expected to see one of the main characters, even her, do--

She went to Professor McGonagall and asked for permission.

“The Restricted section?” McGonagall asked, looking at Hermione through her square-rimmed spectacles. “What do you need from there?”

“I’m looking for information that I haven’t been able to find in the rest of the library, and I suspect it might be in the restricted section, professor, Hermione explained.

“What sort of information?”

Hermione continued with the truth, breaking about seventeen different rules for Potterverse fanfiction, such as the immortal “thou shalt not let on to the teachers what thou art up to."

“Creation of golems, preferably.”

McGonagall quirked her eyebrows. “Is there any reason for this sudden interest I should know about?”

“I’m helping a student. Kira the half-golem was accidentally turned into a statue, and her friend asked me to help figure out how to return her to…er…normal.” Hermione said. And Harry Potter fans everywhere gasped in shock at the absolute lack of secrecy that normally went with characters trying to find information. Professor McGonagall herself was a bit surprised. But there wasn’t anything wrong with Hermione’s reasons for wanting the information, and she would be learning something in the process, and, well, it was Hermione Granger, after all…

“All right,” Professor McGonagall amended, pulling out a quill and writing her name down on a scrap of paper, which she handed to Hermione.

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, and walked calmly out of the Transfiguration teacher’s office.

And the readers fainted from lack of dramatic tension.

*****

“Is this enough?”

The House-elf with the oddly colored eyes stared at the measuring cup of sour cream and shook her head.

“No! You is needing more than that to make it right. Let me show you…” she said, and began to scrape more sour cream into the cup with a spatula. “I is making this back home with my father, he makes it good--”

A sudden vision of an energetic human girl with cream cheese smudged on her nose bouncing around an older man as he cracked eggs into a mixer flashed in front of the House-elf's eyes. The girl had very long, dark hair…

“What next?” the House-elf she was assisting asked. The House-elf shook her head.

“Eggs. Eggs, we need eight of them,” she muttered, her holding the spatula in midair. She shook her head as the other elf skipped off to gather eggs. Something felt wrong. Something about being in the kitchens with all these elves just wasn't right. But…this was where she belonged, wasn’t it? After all, she was a House-elf…

That didn’t feel right either. She blinked again as the returning elf tapped her on the shoulder.

“You is distracted,” it scolded. “You is needing to keep your mind on your work. A house-elf has no right to be distracted while there is work needing to be done.”

The House-elf frowned. “Why?”

Abruptly, most of the rest of the elves stared at her.

“Because humans is needing our looking-after!” one of them explained.

“Why can’t they look after themselves?” the House-elf asked. It was ridiculous. Humans were silly, but an entire race unable to look after themselves…her eyes strayed to where another elf was beginning to crack eggs into the bowl.

“No!” she yelped, running up to the elf. “No, you is doing it wrong! You has to give it time to mix! I is telling you all that over and over. Gilthoniel A Elbereth…”

“What?”

“Uh…” the House-elf blinked. “Gil…gild on an eel…ever beth?”

What did those words mean?

“You is needing to not dawdle! Is it ready for eggs now?” another elf demanded of her. The confused House-elf nodded.

“Put them in slowly…” she muttered, walking over to the House-elf who was tipping a bowl of eggs over the batter. “One by one…”

A voice echoed in her mind, the deep voice of a human male. Such a familiar voice…

“You is doing it again! What is your mother and father is saying if they sees you now? None of my childrens was ever this empty-headed!” an older female house elf scolded.

“My mother would not let you be talking to me the way you is!” the younger House-elf retorted. Now there was another voice, and a face…a woman with short, silvery hair…

“My mother…” she muttered to herself. She could remember her mother…she was a dutiful House-elf…wasn’t she? The Elf frowned with confusion as she stirred the contents of her bowl. She felt as if she were on the edge of remembering something important. Something that would make everything make sense. Why were there so many faces? Always the silvery-haired woman and the big man, and sometimes a human girl with dark brown hair, in a room with green walls, or outside a white house…

Suddenly eyes snapped open wide and she dropped the bowl in her hands. It shattered at her feet, splattering cream cheese mixture all over the kitchens. A couple of the elves shrieked indignantly and instantly began to pick up the pieces of the bowl. One of them began to berate the Elf who’d dropped the bowl, but she ignored him, staring straight ahead into space. The elves stopped slowly, staring at her odd behavior. The House-elf’s breath began to come faster.

That woman, the silver haired woman with the tall man…

The white house with the green room…

And the girl…the dark-haired girl in her visions…

That was HER!

“OH GOD!” Kate screamed.

“Keep your voice down!” the older House-elf who had scolded her before ordered.

“NO!” Kate screamed, her urpley-wilver eyes clearing. She dashed for the painting-hole in panic, pushing House-elves aside. She had to get out of there before that happened again. She couldn’t loose herself again; she couldn’t risk it. She threw herself at the portrait, pushed it open and leaped out, colliding abruptly with a person who was trying to get in.

“Kate?” the person said after the initial flailing of arms and falling on the ground, and Kate looked up to see Hermione Granger, pieces of parchment in her hands.

“You is being a bad Elf! Get back he--Oh, miss,” a House-elf said from the doorway. Kate yelped and hid behind Hermione. “We is hoping you is not judging us from her example, miss. She is being a very bad Elf.”

“She’s not a House-elf. She’s a student,” Hermione said, blinking. Hadn’t Kate told them that?

The house-elf looked at her skeptically.

“Don’t bother, please, let’s go,” Kate muttered behind Hermione.

“Um…well, er, bye,” Hermione said to the elf as Kate began to pull her urgently down the hall. The portrait slammed shut behind them.

“That was horrible,” Kate muttered, clearly upset. “I completely gave in. I couldn’t remember my name, or my parents…On the plus side, I did teach the elves how to make a smashing New York cheesecake,” she added, rather randomly. "You'll all love it, trust me, Dad used to own a cheesecake shop . . ."

“By the way, what were you doing at the kitchens?” she asked, needing to not think about what happened in the kitchens. She had lost everything for a moment, and been completely unable to remember anything at all…

“I came looking for you,” Hermione said. “I found out how to revive your friend.”

“You did?” Kate cried. “Oh great!” Her face broke into a thankful smile. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how important this is to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Hermione said, wondering what had distressed the student so. “I didn’t expect to find you in the kitchens. Did you get away from the Malfoy fangirls all right?”

“Yeah. I hid in a rubbish bin,” Kate said shortly. Hermione gave her an odd look, but Kate didn’t seem to want to talk about why she was in the kitchens anymore, so the two exchanged little more as they made their way to the Great Hall.

“Flitwick left her right outside here,” Kate said, as they went down the hall towards the closed doors. Hermione gave them a push and Kate darted through ahead of her, apparently very eager to see her friend. Hermione was just following when the relative silence of the Great Hall was pierced by a yelp of dismay. She ran through the doors and spotted Kate, standing stock still, her eyes wide, staring at a space marked by a pile of rubble where Flitwick had left her friend.

Kira was not there.