Rosaline hated the Hogwarts Express. The Hogwarts Express meant that she had to sit in a cramped compartment with other students ranging from runny-nose-pre-pubescent little first years all the way up to Crabbe and Goyle (who didn't exactly smell like fresh roses). Moral of this story? It sucked. Rolling her eyes to the heavens, she heard a third year blab all about her vintage Viktor Krum autographed poster…again. Finally, Rosaline whirled around, "Shut your trap before I shut it for you!" she exclaimed. The third-year went wide-eyed and quickly moved to another booth. Rosaline gave herself a satisfied smile. Maybe she wasn't a seventh year, but in the Slytherin world Draco's word was law…therefore extending to his girlfriend. They were at the top of the food chain…and she liked it there. She planned to keep her place.

"Don't worry about her," Draco gave a look of distaste to the space where the third year had just been, "By this time next year, things will be different." He told her with such confidence that it almost frightened her. But Rosaline was stronger than that. She took his hand and squeezed it in her own. "I sure hope so, I don't think I can take much more of this," she gave Crabbe and Goyle a clear look of revulsion. Goyle's eyes squinted back at her slightly, as if he was put-off by what she said. Crabbe, however, showed no sign of comprehension.

Then Draco seemed to shut-off again, momentarily. The conversation was now nearly non-existent unless you count the barely audible grunting noise of Crabbe as he stared at the snack trolley that was about to enter their compartment. Rosaline sighed. She hadn't realized she was still holding Draco's hand until he subconsciously squeezed her fingers. She stroked the top of his hand with her thumb, "What makes you so sure that next year won't be as horrid?" Rosaline asked him, leaning over, her lips barely inches from his ear. Her breath washed across his ear. He had something on his mind, and she wanted in.

Draco looked at her, pulling out from deep within his mind, "Don't worry yourself," he told her in a tone of voice that could've sounded abrasive to others, but Rosaline knew it was his way of caring for her. She nodded; upset that he wasn't telling her what was on his mind. But she knew asking now would get her nothing; she'd have to wait until the opportune moment. She did not let go of his hand, but with her free one, she brushed her long brown hair behind her shoulders and looked out the window. Only 1000 hours to go… she thought to herself sarcastically. That's when a little first year stopped at their table. She looked over and yet again, rolled her eyes, "What do you want?" She asked. She did not know this first year- then again…she didn't really want to know a first year.

"This is for you," the kid said, holding out an envelope with a shaking hand. Rosaline warily took the envelope. As soon as it was out of the kid's hand he bolted to the next compartment. Draco looked at her as she began to open the parchment envelope, "Who's it from?"

"I don't know…." She took out the letter and skimmed it, "A …professor …Slughorn.." she said unsurely, "In compartment C," she added.

"What does he want?" Draco took the envelope from her hand and skimmed the short message as well, "Lunch?" he raised his thin eyebrows. He gave Rosaline a questioning look.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one invited," Rosaline raised her hand to point at Blaise Zambini, who was reading a similar letter.

Draco tossed the letter onto the table in front of them, "You can't possibly want to go?" he said incredulously as Rosaline shoved the envelope into her pocket.

"Perhaps just to see who this professor is. Besides, I have an hour to mull it over," Rosaline snapped back.

Draco didn't reply and seemed to pull back into his head.

Rosaline sat, again in silence. Draco had never been a chatty one, but never had he been this quiet before. It was annoying, to say the least.

Then, suddenly, a cloud of blackness filled the compartment, and what sounded like, the ones around. She gasped and gripped the table which she had been touching. There was a loud commotion, but as soon as it had come, it went.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Draco seethed, looking around, standing up. Everyone in the compartment looked at each other. But everyone soon settled back down, and it was forgotten.

"I don't know…" Rosaline admitted. She looked around and realized that she was sick of this silence. She shuffled out from the booth and headed for the door that connected them to the next train car.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked as she reached the door.

"For a walk," Rosaline replied simply, "To find a good conversation," she added as a burn before she swept from the compartment. The flurry of her long brown hair was the last thing Draco saw.

Rosaline and Draco were an odd couple. What had just occurred, to many couples, would be a fight. To them, it was merely day-to-day life. No, they were not always like that to each other, but it happened frequently. Neither of them was hurt in any way from it. They were both strong, and in turn, both had their strong personalities.

Rosaline was not lying about finding good conversation; in fact, she knew exactly who she was looking for: her friend Anna. The shocking part of this? Anna was a Gryffindor…and friends with the 'golden trio'. (Rosaline wanted to gag). But Anna and Rosaline had grown up friends, and were friends long before Gryffindors and Slytherins even existed, long before they knew Harry Potter, and his friend Ron Weasley.

It was rough for Rosaline and Anna to be friends while in Hogwarts…Gryffindors and Slytherins do not mix well together… But it didn't stop them. They found ways and they found time for each other, despite their Hogwarts founded differences. And Rosaline would have it no other way. She enjoyed challenges, and even more, loved coming out on top.

Rosaline waved to a few fellow Slytherin girls as she searched from compartment to compartment, hoping to find Anna; even more, hoping to find Anna in the hall- alone.

As she strolled, she judged the first and second years who were already dressed in their Hogwarts attire. No one changed until the last possible second. Who would want to be in those horrid robes for more time than they needed to be? Even if you had the greatest sense of house pride…