"GRYFFINDOR!"

A bemused smile had found its way onto Madelaine Carroll's lips as the Sorting Hat was taken off her head and she joined the Gryffindor House table amidst applause. She turned to the Ravenclaw table, where she thought she'd be joining her brother Daniel and sister Tessa. Daniel, now in his fifth year, was clapping, surprise glowing in his eyes. And Tessa, a brash fourth year was laughing as she shouted across the room to Madelaine: "Oddball!"

The nickname did explain things. It explained why, unlike her siblings, Madelaine didn't get the Carroll family black locks and Dearborn hazel eyes, but instead got the Dearborns' chestnut brown hair, and the sea blue eyes that made Richard Carroll such a hunk in his school days. Oddball also fit Madelaine as she was the first person in seven generations of the Carroll family to be sorted into Gryffindor. Seeing as how it was a family tradition on her mother's side as well, she felt even more out of place.

But why should she? Secretly, she felt Gryffindor was the best house at Hogwarts. She didn't know how she came to this particular conclusion, because Rowena Ravenclaw was seen as something of a saint in her family, but truly, she just wasn't that interested in "book learning" as her parents and siblings were. She thought being brave was a treasured quality. Madelaine tried hard to be brave. When she was little, she thought this meant actually looking for trouble, and then finding an ingenious way to get out of it. Tessa classified this as raw nerve, on many occasions. But nerve is what set Gryffindors apart; it's what set her apart at home. And as far as Madelaine was concerned, you might need to be quick witted to get yourself out of a tight situation, but you'd need courage to face it.

Apparently, Lila had felt the same way. She'd used her cleverness to receive glowing recommendations from her teachers, and to reach the top of every class. But when she left school, she went to work for the Ministry as an Auror. The seventies saw Lord Voldemort's first rise to power, and Lila decided she should help in some way to end it. Caradoc felt the same way. He and Lila both joined Dumbledore and countless others in fighting as members of the Order of the Phoenix. Richard was more than just a little wary. He did not follow his wife and brother-in-law to the Order; he instead went to St. Mungo's to fulfill his life long ambition of being a Healer.

"I just don't see what the point is," he'd told Lila warily one night.

"Don't see the point?" She had sat up in bed, and that oh too familiar flash of angry disbelief passed through her eyes. "Richard, tell me you're joking."

"All right, I'm joking." Of course he wasn't joking. And his inability to grasp the seriousness of her words made Lila narrow those bright, angry eyes of hers.

"The point is, we could be saving people's lives."

"While risking yours in the process." A silence stretched on between them. Richard was studying Lila's face. "I try to save lives too, in my profession, but in a safe way."

"Well, there's no real danger in being a Healer is there?"

"None at all! A risk free profession that helps others, but keeps me safe."

"That's rather selfish of you." Her voice had become quiet now, and she was fiddling with a loose piece of string on the bed spread.

"Selfish?" he repeated. "I don't think it's selfish that I want to stay alive for my children."

"Who said I'm going to die?" she asked sharply. "Who said I would let that happen?"

"Most of us don't really have a choice when the time comes. Especially when you're dealing with him."

She placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "Richard, honey, I have to fight."

"Who said? Dumbledore?"

"No; I did." Her voice was trembling now. "I'm fighting because I know it's right. I'm fighting because I want to leave a safer world for the kids, and everyone else, and all the Muggle-borns who are persecuted just because they're different." Her voice had cracked now and she turned away hastily to hide the fact that she was crying. But Richard had sat up now and drew an arm around her shoulders. She took a deep breath and continued, though her voice was heavy now with tears. "And if I'm killed in the process, well then, it will all have been done to protect others from reaching the same fate."

But could Lila have known that's exactly what she was heading for? She was killed in the summer of 1981, a month before Madelaine's first birthday, by a Death Eater named Travers. She of course, wasn't the only one to give up her life for the Order. A few months previously, Caradoc had gone missing, and his body was never recovered. The speculation was that he too had been murdered, but no one was any closer to finding his supposed killer. Madelaine knew of this; her father had told her, but the details were left out. All she knew was that her mother had been killed in the name of "defeating evil", as her father had put it. Other information that she'd "accidentally" overheard from hushed family conversations was that Richard's cousin Lucius Malfoy, had been on the other side. He'd been a Death Eater, but after Voldemort fell, renounced the old ways. He may not have killed Lila himself, but to Madelaine, the fact that he belonged to the group of followers who wanted her dead was just as bad. And therefore, it was with ill disgiused contempt that she watched Draco Malfoy get sorted into Slytherin.

They had never had a cordial meeting. Oh no. Lucius didn't want dear Draco to be anywhere near his Half Blood cousins. But from accidental meetings, he and Richard had found themselves icy and distant with one another. Lucius had informed Draco that Richard was his cousin, but his three children had a Mudblood mother, and therefore, were irrelevant. Was it any surprise then that when Draco caught Madelaine's eye, he made no effot to hide his own dislike?

"Oi, Longbottom, not going to the Yule Ball, are you?" Draco Malfoy's question was posed more like a statement. He was fourteen now, taller, and if possible, even more arrogant than ever before. Madelaine thought he might have been handsome, with his sleek blonde hair, gray eyes, and thin face. But there was too much coldness in the eyes, too much spite in the heart. The smirk curling his lips was mirrored on the faces of his impossibly thick cronies Crabbe and Goyle, and that insufferable Pansy Parkinson.

Madelaine, who was busy scribbling a few last minute notes in her Potions notebook, didn't even look up as she cut across Neville's reply and answered Malfoy herself.

"Why do you ask Malfoy? Were you hoping he'd go with you?"

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were sitting on opposite sides of Madelaine and sniggered into their books. They had to be careful. Snape was busy patrolling the aisles of the Great Hall, reading the end of term assignments as they all sat and worked. The Yule Ball was a couple of days away. It was no secret that the fourth years and older students were distracted. They were supposed to be working quietly, but once in a while, they'd whisper something to one another, and Snape, who was nearby, would give them a good rap on the heads. It was rather odd how he seemed not to notice Draco or any other Slytherins off task.

Madelaine looked up and met Malfoy's scowl with a bland smile.

"I was just asking because the way I see it, there's no point showing up to the Ball if you haven't got a date." He sent Neville a cruel glance.

"Oh. Then you're trying to see how many blokes, including yourself, are going to be sitting alone in their common rooms on Christmas Eve."

Malfoy's scowl deepened and Pansy Parkinson opened her mouth to let out an angry retort. Malfoy didn't let her answer though.

"I've got a date," he hissed angrily.

"Really? I don't think your hand mirror counts."

Dean and Seamus both let out great peals of laughter. Snape swooped down upon them immediately and slapped two notebooks across their heads. This subdued them, but tears of mirth were starting to spring into their eyes. For good measure, Snape tapped the top of Madelaine's head with a notebook, hissing in her ear, "Close your mouth."

"Yes sir, Professor Snape sir."

He glared at her before turning away.

Pansy's face was red now with indignation. "I'll have you know that Draco's taking me to the Yule Ball," she spat at Madelaine.

Her eyes wide, Madelaine turned to Draco. "I'm so sorry."