"Izzy! Hey, how's it going?" Oh dear God! I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes and kept walking, ignoring the over-excited freshmen trying too hard. Most of them were simply too pathetic for words, here only because daddy's credit card could handle it and mommy wanted to boast to her friends that her baby was at Easton.

I was different. Nine generations. Nine. An odd number. My eye twitched in irritation. I rubbed my eyebrow and faked a yawn.

The snow had stopped falling seventeen minutes ago, but there was no one out, save the freshmen; no guys horsing around with snowballs, no girls checking them out. They were off-campus, of course. This was a rare, free weekend.

My heels clicked loudly on the polished floor of Hell Hall, echoing off the empty walls, drawing me closer and closer to the Headmaster's study.

A deep sense of dread began to set in my chest, coiling tightly around my heart. I could feel my palms beginning to sweat, and I was glad that winter's etiquette made me wear gloves. Black. Leather. Just how I liked it.

I flexed my fingers and pulled the gloves up higher.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. I did not want to sweat. I had to keep it together, dammit.

Ten minutes.

Just ten minutes with this pathetic, infuriating man and I'd be able to go back to Billings. Back home.

I pulled a smile onto my face and knocked three times, then took a step back, counting.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven -

"Good afternoon, ms Blaire!" The long and blonde secretary opened the door, her hair slightly ruffled on one side.

I raised an eyebrow. "I have an appointment to see Headmaster-"

"Yes!! Of course! Come on in!" Too enthusiastic. I didn't even want to think of what I had interrupted.

"Isabelle Blaire. Ah. Welcome." He waited for me to sit in front of his desk, then threw himself down into the winged armchair, attempting to be casual. Since when had Easton been 'casual'? Or had I missed out on something in the past year?

I smiled brightly, sitting up straight and stiff, with my ankles crossed, the way I had been taught to do.

t was poise. It was polite. It gave nothing away.

"I was - surprised - to hear that Valmonte wasn't working out for you. Any idea why that might be?" He gazed at me, attempting to observe me with a fatherly gaze. It wasn't working too well, he looked more like a pervert than a father-figure.

This is the part where I told him that it was all just a joke, that Italy was great and I was only visiting today, that the luggage that the staff were unpacking was actually empty, that I actually liked to play pranks.

But no one ever gets what they wanted.

"No, Italy is beautiful, and I was glad of the chance to learn another language, but you know what they say. There's no place like home."

I watched him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing several times. That's right, be nervous. I was staying. I was here for the next two years.

I had debated whether to just return to England, but after the Legacy, I couldn't stay away any longer. This was where I belonged, where my real family were; Billings.

I smoothed down my skirt while the Headmaster looked at my file, taking out sheet after sheet of parer and stacking it in front of me.

They were uneven. This bothered me. I set my jaw and clenched my hands tightly together to stop myself from straightening them out.

"Here we are," he finally said, holding out a sleek silver pen.

"If you sign you are agreeing to-"

I switched off as he went through the rules that no one followed, signing where ever I saw my name printed, my heart getting lighter and lighter with ever perfectly scripted signature.