It hadn't even been an hour and the Ravagers were already overusing their newfound name, enjoying it immensely that they finally had a name that fit them perfectly.

It was long past curfew that they decided to return to the common room, and as soon as Calysta stepped through the portrait hole, she knew something was wrong.

Neville was lying across the floor of the carpeted common room, stiff as a board, and pale and a ghost. In fact, judging by his expression, it looked like he had actually seen a ghost.

Ironic, how they were in a castle full of ghosts.

Moving closer, she stifled her gasp, clapping her hand over her mouth. 

"Guys," she whispered. 

She looked at Neville again, who's face was horror-stricken, eyes wide.

Felix looked unfazed. "Someone's put a body-binding curse on him," he said simply.

"How'd you know?" hissed Jeff.

"Intuition," he muttered boredly.

Calysta, by now, was used to Felix's incessantly wonderful brain, and she had a feeling she'd hear him say that very many times in the following years.

"How do we reverse it?" asked Regulus. "Isn't there a counter-spell?" 

"Finite Incantatem," Felix chanted, pointing his wand at Neville.

The boy in pajamas sat up, rubbing his eyes together, which had started to water.

"Neville," Calysta said softly, handing him her handkerchief (another one of Aunt Petunia's oh-so-brilliant-ladylike ideas, she had yet to use the handkerchief to wipe her nose). 

Neville wiped his eyes and looked at Calysta. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Who did this to you?" she asked. No sooner did she speak those words, the answer dawned on her.

"Hermione," she answered, at the exact same time as Neville said her name.

"Bollocks!" she stood up in realization, while Jeff nudged her and said, "language!" in a way that reminded her very much of Aunt Petunia.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," she replied nonchalantly. "We need to go to the third floor corridor."

The other fours boys stared at her blankly. 

Until Jeff checked her forehead with the back of his hand. "You got a fever?"

"No, guys, I'm serious," she tried, standing up and heading back to the portrait hole.

"Do you have a death wish?" asked Felix. "We all remember what happened the last time we went there."

"I don't have any intention of dying," Calysta said dryly. "But you do know my twin is Harry Potter, he definitely has a death wish. And if we don't go and rescue him..." she didn't need to continue.

Regulus was the first to join her. "I'm coming, let's go."

"You guys won't last without me," said Felix smugly.

"Fine, come," snapped Calysta tersely. "But quickly."

"I'll come for moral support," said Jeff.

Only Raymond was left, and the four looked at him pleadingly. "I suppose I could help," he hummed quietly.

And then they took off.

The door to the third floor corridor was slightly ajar, and as Calysta peered through the crack, she caught a glimpse of the three-headed dog, snoring, all three of his heads drooped downwards, each one of his mouths dripping with some sort of slobbery drool.

"It's asleep," she breathed. "We have to be quiet."

They pushed the door open, which creaked as it swung on its hinges, and slowly, the five of them pushed themselves in.

Until Regulus, who'd forgotten to tie his laces, tripped over them and fell straight to the floor, knocking the wind out of Calysta as they both toppled over.

"Ouch!" cried out Calysta, unable to stop the noise that had escaped her lips.

And then, they heard the barking of three dogs. Or rather, one dog, but with three heads.

The Five Gryffindors looked at each other in panic, alarm pulsing through them.

The dog had woken up.

The first to be taken was Jeff, who had just picked Regulus off the floor. The dog swiped a paw at Calysta's cousin, and he let out a shrill, piercing scream. 

"JEFF!" Calysta screamed, before looking around at the other three. "What do we do?" she cried.

"Why's there a harp there?" asked Raymond.

"I don't know!" yelled Jeff, as he dodged another attack from the dog's paw.

"IMMOBULUS!" shouted Felix, pointing his wand in the air.

Everything froze, and went into a slow-motion-like phenomenon. 

"Down the trapdoor!" he called, opening the wooden door by the dog's feet. "Quickly!"

They wasted no time in getting away from the monster, now fully surrounded by darkness, save for the light on seven floating candles, all perched on something squishy.

"That was close," breathed Regulus.

"Are you alright, Jeff?" 

"I've got a scratch on my shoulder," he murmured, "but I'll be okay."

Calysta looked at her cousin from where he was sprawled, instantly noting that his shirt was now stained with blood.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, thick, strangling vines had already wrapped themselves around her shoulders and neck, cutting off her oxygen supply. Squirming and trying to break apart the cutthroat tendrils. 

Her vision was blurred with her watering eyes, and she couldn't tell whether the screams she heard were those of her friends, or her own.

The next thing she knew was a bright light flooding through her vision, and the pain stopped. She felt herself fall, and everything went black.

And then she opened her eyes, a fair few minutes later. "What happened?" she questioned, looking around at the four boys who towered over her fallen figure with concern. 

"Devils Snare," quipped Raymond. "This dude saved us all," he tapped the back of Felix's head.

"Why didn't I pay attention in Herbology?" Jeff moaned, before helping Calysta up.

She looked at her arms and neck, imprinted with bruises the vines had left.

"Did Harry go through this?" she voiced her concerns.

"I'm pretty sure he did," Regulus nodded. "But don't worry, they probably had Hermione."

"That's somewhat reassuring, even though I'm not very fond of her," Calysta breathed nervously.

"She's annoying," snorted Felix. "I mean, she's smart, but it's obvious she just memorized everything like a walking textbook."

The other four roared with laughter. Strange, considering they were technically in a life and death situation.

They went through the next door. A broomstick lay on the ground, along with what sounded like a thousand flying birds. Calysta looked up. 

"Keys," Raymond murmured. "One of them opens the door."

"Go on, Cal, this is your moment," Felix remarked, handing the brunette the broomstick. 

"How do I know which one's the right one?" she questioned, gulping, her throat dry.

"It's that one," Raymond pointed out a small key with a broken wing. "I'm sure of it."

Calysta couldn't question that. After all, Raymond was the artist, and could notice all the tiny details the others failed to. 

Mounting the broomstick, she took off. 

All at once, the other keys started attacking her. Trying to swipe them away with her hands, she nearly lost her balance on the broom as it tilted, nearly throwing her off. 

Felix used the same freezing spell he'd used earlier, and at last, she managed to catch the key and give it to Jeff, who was waiting by the door on the other side. 

Once the five of them were on the other side of the door, they sighed with relief. 

"How many doors to go?" groaned Regulus. 

"I'm not sure," quipped Felix. "But I think every teacher must have contributed. So judging by the first obstacles, that leaves Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Quirrell and Professor Dumbledore's.

"I'm not sure of how much more of this I can take," groaned Jeff.

Until Raymond caught their attention by pointing at the center of the room.

Indeed, they were in a room of obstacles, but it looked to be in ruins. They were standing on a giant chessboard, with remains of rocks, small stones and bits of sand scattered across the floor. In the center of the room, they were looking straight at Hermione Granger, tears streaming down her eyes as she towered over the unconscious body of Ron Weasley, who was covered in dust, and bruises.

"What're you doing here?" Hermione asked, sniffling.

"What the hell happened to Ron?" Jeff asked, not a second later.

"It's a long story," Hermione replied. "He's unconscious."

"Neville, in the common room," Calysta responded. "He said you did that to him."

"He was coming in the way," Hermione retorted. 

"Harry," Cal replied. "Where is he?"

Hermione gulped. "He's in the last room. With Snape. He's gone to save the stone."

"It's not Snape!" all the Ravagers exclaimed. "It's Quirrell!"

"Wow, talk about synchronization," muttered Jeff, chuckling to himself.

He was shut up by a glare from Felix, that looked to say 'now's not the time'.

"Quirrell?" repeated Hermione. "How on earth..?"

"We saw Snape on our way here," confirmed Regulus. "Talking to Professor McGonagall. It's Quirrell."

"No, but.." Hermione was saying.

"Quirrell was trying to kill Harry at the Quidditch game, and Snape was muttering the counter-curse," Felix explained. "Snape has been suspicious of Quirrell all this time, and has been protecting the stone."

"Yeah," Jeff added. "And on the day of the Halloween feast, he let the troll in, because all the teachers were there except him. And he runs in, and yells 'TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!', without even stuttering once."

"Oh no," cried Hermione. "That means.."

"Harry's in there with Quirrell," Raymond finished. "And Quirrell's the Dark Arts teacher."

"Felix, Regulus, come with me. Jeff and Raymond, take care of Hermione and Ron," Calysta pleaded. "We're running out of time."

The next obstacle was a knocked out troll; the room smelling of that god-awful stench that filled the girls' bathroom on Halloween.

"That's Quirrell's," Felix checked off on his fingers. "And the chessboard was McGonagall's."

"Which leaves Snape's and Dumbledore's."

Felix nodded.

Professor Snape's obstacle was naturally, potions. After figuring out the right potion to drink, Calysta bid her friends goodbye, and told them to get the Professor's immediately.

"Will you be okay?" asked Regulus, concern stretched over his features.

The brunette nodded, taking a live mouse from her pocket. "I'll scare him with this, if it comes down to the worst," she tried to joke, but couldn't hold back the panic on her voice. "Couldn't have made it this far without you guys," she breathed softly. "Thank you."

"We'll always be here for you, Cal," Felix said, his lips curved into a small smile.

"Always," Regulus emphasized. 

Then, she took a daring step through the door, looking back at her friends with a small wave.

The first thing she saw as soon as she entered was fire. A barrier of flames, standing tall and proud like a wall. Her first thought was that Harry was left in a fire, but when she tried to look on the other sides of the flames, from the top of the stairs where she stood, she saw Harry, and Quirrell, with another face at the back of his head.

The face was pale, almost grey, lipless and nose-less, it's eyes red and slit-shaped, like those of a snake.

Without even thinking, she knew that this was Lord Voldemort.

"Harry!" she called, desperation in her voice. Quirrell and Harry both looked up at where the voice came from, both noticing her.

"Cal, go back," Harry yelled. "Get out of here!"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not leaving without you."

At once, before Harry could say anything, there was a cold, high-pitched laughter filling the room.

"How noble," the voice hissed. "Calysta Potter, come to save her twin."

"Don't come near her," Harry warned. "Or I'll destroy the stone." In his hand, he held a red rock-shaped crystal.

"Make way, Quirrell," Lord Voldemort said. "For our guest."

At once, the flames parted, and Calysta wasted no time in coming to stand near her brother, her eyes narrowed as she looked at that thing who called himself Lord Voldemort. 

"So you were hiding underneath the turban?" Calysta blurted, before she could stop herself. "And.. what the hell happened to your face?"

Lord Voldemort's expression twisted into that of anger. "Silence, girl, do not speak to me that way!"

"Or what?" Calysta bit back, unable to prevent herself from speaking. "You can't do anything, since you share a coward's body."

"Cal, no," warned Harry, tugging on the sleeve of her robe. 

"Kill her!" sneered Voldemort, "the little brat. She deserves to meet her parents, seeing as she's so much like them."

Quirrell raised his wand to kill her, but Calysta was quicker. She released her mouse to the floor, transfiguring it into a scorpion. 

"Bite him," she told her mouse, now a scorpion.

No, she didn't know any spell powerful enough, she could only rely on dumb luck. 

Quirrell lunged for her, and Calysta ducked, while Voldemort kept shouting, "KILL THEM!," and "GET THE STONE!"

Quirrell then made a move for Harry, just as the scorpion managed to climb onto Quirrell's shoe and pierce itself into Quirrell's ankle, who let out a shriek of pain, clutching his leg.

"Scorpion venom is poisonous," remarked Calysta. "You're a dead man. Or should I say, dead man and head. Though I hardly think it counts as a head, seeing as there's no nose on one.."

She was so busy speaking that she didn't notice Quirrell had grabbed Harry's throat and face, and was strangling him. 

"NO!" she screamed, before launching herself all over Quirrell, pulling him away from Harry. 

"My hands!" the Dark Arts Professor was saying, looking at the blisters forming on his palms.

"KILL HIM!" Voldemort was still shrieking.

"Master, I cannot touch him," Quirrell whimpered. 

Harry then lunged at Quirrell, placing his hands on Quirrell's face, which blistered seconds later. What with the fact that Quirrell was slowly turning into stone and dust, and the scorpion venom was weakening him, he was left with no more strength to fight, and collapsed onto the floor.

Harry, on the other hand, was unconscious. And Calysta made a beeline for him, trying to get him to wake up.

Neither the twins realized that Quirrell was dead, his body turned into ash.

Calysta took the stone from Harry's fingers, transfiguring her scorpion back into a mouse, before putting it back into her pocket, along with the stone.

At once, the doors opened, and Professor Dumbledore strode through, along with Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape.

"Miss Potter," Dumbledore greeted, eyes fleeting over to where Harry lay. "Miss Granger and Mister Sanguini just informed me what happened, but I'd like to know if you are okay."

"I'm fine, Professor," Calysta breathed a sigh of relief, giving the stone to the Headmaster. 

"May I ask what went down here?"

"I think.. Professor Quirrell's dead," she said in a small voice. "And.. there was Voldemort too."

"Oh dear," Dumbledore shook his head. "Severus, Minerva, would you mind taking Harry to the hospital wing? I would like to have a word with Calysta."

"Miss Potter, shall we?" Dumbledore asked conjuring two chairs from thin air, causing Calysta to marvel at the use of advanced magic.

She sat down, and Dumbledore took the other seat. 

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Explain."

And Calysta explained on how Harry and her had figured out what was hidden, and how it was hidden, as well as how Harry was adamant it was Snape. She told him about how she fought with Jeff, and how he suspected it was Quirrell from the very start, coming to the part where they found Neville in the common room, and how she realized where Harry might be. Lastly, she told him of Voldemort, and how she poisoned Quirrell with the help of her mouse, and how Quirrell could not touch Harry. 

Dumbledore listened with silence until she was done. "It's just as I suspected. You see, I had Snape keep an eye on Quirrell for me, from the beginning."

"Lord Voldemort will be back, won't he?" Calysta questioned quietly.

"I fear so, Calysta. But I want to ask you something first."

She nodded. 

"What do you see when you look into the Mirror of Erised?"

She wasn't expecting that question. Faltering slightly, she hesitantly responded. "I see.. two things," she explained. "Sometimes I see my parents, and other times..."

"What do you see?"

"Myself," Calysta admitted. "Older, and.. I'm wearing strange clothes. All black. My hair's colored too, and I have strange symbols on my arms," she went into detail.

"What sort of symbols?" asked Dumbledore, surveying her with his icy blue eyes, behind his half-moon glasses.

"Like tattoos. They look like a foreign language."

"What else to you see?"

"I see myself surrounded by my biggest fears," she admitted. "The funny thing is, my fears are black and white, and I'm the only thing that's well, colored."

"I see," replied Dumbledore. "You see two things, because you have more than one desire," he told her gravely. "And this is rare, but not unheard of."

"What does it mean?" she asked, quite afraid to know the answer.

"As for the strange symbols, I do not know the answer, unfortunately," he said. "But you see yourself and your fears in black and white, because your deepest desire is to conquer your fears. To not be afraid of anything."

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked timidly, twisting her fingers together.

Dumbledore smiled. "Not at all. In fact, I think it's very brave, quite remarkable, if you ask me."

And she was fine with that. She had come one step closer to figuring out who she was. To her, that was an accomplishment.

 { sorry for the delay. i was very busy with exams and drama to actually write this chapter, but i finally did. we've got one more chapter left in part i, and i thank you guys for 1K reads. thank you, and please, comment your thoughts, vote and share. love, jasmine. }