She glanced over, alerted by her classmates' sudden lack of enthusiasm and more obviously by their screams. The warmth of the September evening cracked in the sudden chill, iced over by the penetrating sensation of death and despair looming all around her, seeping in to the core of her. She looked up from the cobblestone walkway, flashes coming to mind of contributions to her current state. Sharlen glanced back, her dark, hollow eyes merely looking, merely observing, yet the second her intense gaze was upon the Dementors they jerked back in fear and confusion.

Their dark forms swerved in the air, their torn cloaks billowing in the winds caused by one another in their distress. They extended their splintering, rotting arms toward her, their long, boney fingers extending and retracting as though to beckon her. Slowly Sharlen turned away from the Dementors and continued down the steps, boots clicking away, and yet no one followed her, not even the floating and now motionless beasts. With each step she took, the normal end-of-summer night air washed over her, like settling into a warm bath. It made her shiver against the previous chill.

She continued toward the carriages, feeling as though her body were defrosting. She knew the Dementors had gone, either by force or sudden lack of interest in the other Hogwarts students. She swept into an empty carriage, vaguely making sure she was ready for someone to join her, although no one did.

The carriage began to move and Sharlen sank into the seat cushions, absently clutching her little black book. She missed the cold and wished the Dementors had followed her inside to freeze up her surroundings and her memories. For whatever reason the Dementors seemed to have an opposite effect on her. To all others an experience with a Dementor, even if minor, was often worse than the horrible memories they fed off of. Perhaps it was because she had little left to fear, and she lived in a world of other people's memories.

She didn't have much of a family; all she had was herself and the few people she allowed to gain her trust. It had been many years since she'd actively had someone to care about. Who was to say only adults could judge the connection between strangers? Who was to say that the feeling she thought thinking about him, the feeling that her chest was collapsing and that every breath sucked her deeper in, was all in her mind?

If that wasn't love then she didn't want to love. She couldn't imagine, let alone take, anything stronger than how she felt then.

Her carriage stopped, not abruptly, but still with enough force to knock her from her thoughts and to the floor. She stood absently, clutching her book and her cape close to her body as the door opened to allow her escape. She walked, staring at nothingness, at blackness, pausing in this to glance at the creatures that had been pulling the carriage. She hadn't noticed them before, having been too preoccupied by the Dementors. The decrepit beasts, black and decayed as though death themselves, whinnied and reared their legs at her, tossing their heads and snorting as she passed. Judging by the other students reactions it was obvious to Sharlen that the beasts didn't typically make any noise or fuss whatsoever, also that they were invisible to most if not all of them. Sharlen kept walking, though. She heard a voice, some boy trying to calm them, him and some girl with a distant voice. She ignored them. Ignored everything—she was too close in proximity to too many people.

"Didn't you hear them?"

"Hear what?"

"Horses! It sounded like there were horses pulling the carriages; they were going crazy!"

"Wonder what caused it?"

Sharlen felt a jab hit her back, a single accusing finger and she faltered slightly. She hadn't physically been touched, but mentally. Sharlen's magical abilities were telekinesis and Divination. She practiced Tarot and could see, literally see, people's auras. Could hear their thoughts, on occasion. Could touch them and know their pasts, their futures. "It was her," the other voice whispered, the one pointing. The jab was harder the second time. "She walked past and they just went crazy. Like a bunch of invisible horses just completely lost it."

Stopping slowly, Sharlen glanced over her shoulder. The girl who'd been pointing jumped, throwing her arm down by her side, and the one accompanying her glanced between the two. Sharlen's arms disappeared under her cloak a second as she approached. Both girls backed away a little, no doubt fearing she was reaching for a wand. They were orange tinged with red, the auras reminding Sharlen of fire; uneasy, nervous.

Stopping right before the pointer, Sharlen's expression never changed from her glare, her cold face hardened with her eyes narrowed. She looked murderous. Slowly she reached up and stuck a little rainbow sticker to the girl's forehead and walked away. She glanced the change in auras the instant she'd turned around. Pale blue. She'd perplexed them.

It was much easier to absorb secondary emotions like confusion and indifference than it was to handle joy, fear, or rage.

She did not feel up for dealing with the masses this night. As the swarm of her peers headed for the Great Hall, Sharlen kept walking. She let her feet guide her, absently hoping she didn't run into anyone. However, she had no such luck. "And just where do you think you're going Miss Down?"

She froze at that voice. 'Nosy bastard,' she wanted to scream. 'Just get away from me!' "The Great Hall's the other way," another voice added. She turned to find yet another familiar face, the face of Severus Snape, had joined the first speaker, Remus Lupin.

"So you've returned," she hissed quietly. Both men strained to hear her. She was looking up at Lupin with eyes only, her face forward so her expression was cold and frightening, she was sure. "I thought they chucked you out of here three years ago."

"Not quite," he said cheerfully, gripping his wand in his pocket although the smile on his face reached his ears. He was acting playful, but she knew, knew, he was bracing himself. "I actually quit, but, I saw fit to it to come back this year. Nostalgia, you know how it goes."

"Your aura's as auburn as your hair used to be, Lupin. You can't lie to me," Sharlen muttered. "You insisted on coming back this year to keep an eye on me. You should have a little more faith, wolf."

He sighed calmly but inside shook. "I'm not afraid of you. You're to call me Professor."

"What the hell do you two want?"

"That's to be discussed at another time," Snape muttered in a bored tone. "For now you're to join the rest of the students in the Great Hall. You still need to be sorted."

"Dumbledore knows where to put me. I'd rather not sit there and be stared at. I'm migraine free, at the moment," Sharlen muttered through gritted teeth, feigning pleasantness.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sharlen," Lupin corrected. Sharlen glanced around quickly, slowly lifting a torch from its mount behind Lupin and directing it with her eyes toward the back of his head. Unfortunately he felt the heat before it hit, whipped out his wand, and extinguished it, placing it back in its holder. He started off toward the Great Hall and Snape, perfectly calm on the inside and out, beckoned her with a hand and swept off too. Sharlen just glared.

"You won't win, Snape," she called after him. "I came here for one reason, and that's to get him back. I'm going to heal him. I won't let you hurt and lie to him anymore." Lupin faltered at these words but didn't turn or say anything.

"They're all waiting. Come along." Snape continued toward the Hall. Sharlen Down followed, suspicious, and thoroughly pissed off.

What was worse, Snape made a big hairy deal about her coming. Not only did he burst through the doors loudly and gesture her in before him, immediately halting whatever ceremony was going on, but he also announced to the whole Hall, "We have one more to be sorted, Professor McGonagall." Sharlen kicked him and he turned quickly toward her, in utter disbelief. She stuck a sticker to his right cheekbone before he knew what had happened and left him angry and confused as she strode toward the old witch clutching the Sorting Hat.

The Gryffindors way over to her right howled with laughter, some in disbelief, their auras grinning colors of dark blue for playfulness and jubilance, brown for anxiousness. She also sensed a lot of suspicion and unease around her. She briefly touched a finger to her temple. Too much positive or negative energy drained her very easily.

The Sorting Hat watched her approach curiously, and Sharlen just stared back, putting one foot in front of the other. "Slytherin," it called out before she even reached the stage, so sure, so confident in its unquestioned answer that it shouted a house at her when she was still more than twenty feet away. A collective gasp was heard, amongst a lot of muttering and whispering. Even the teachers up at the top table were glancing at each other and at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore. Sharlen looked at him when she'd stopped advancing toward the hat. He just looked at her and smiled and, in sync with Professor McGonagall, jabbed his head in the direction of Slytherin table. Jeers met her as she gave a very slight nod and changed her direction.

Whispers met her ears. "She wasn't even fifteen feet from it!"

"She's gotta have some serious Dark Magic in her."

"Well duh! Just look at her!"

"Look at her!"

"Why's she coming so late? She's old, definitely not a first year…"

"She's the one who sent the Dementors away, and made those invisible horse things go crazy!"

"I'll believe it. Just look at her!"

"Look at her!"

"Look at her!"

Sharlen faltered slightly but kept walking as though nothing were wrong. There was too much energy here. She needed to be secluded.

She took a seat on the side of Slytherin table that would allow her to observe the Gryffindors who were now no longer cheering or smiling. Some stared, and actually a lot of them glared. So, now that she had been labeled the enemy she was the enemy? 'He won't turn me away,' she assured herself. 'Once I break that spell he'll be mine again.'

Sharlen spent the entire feast staring at Snape. She didn't touch her food and whoever tried to talk to her, maybe one or two students, just succeeded in getting one of her infamous stickers stuck to them; one on the ear, one on the cheek. Finally Snape looked her in the eye, rolled his eyes, and nodded. She looked to Lupin, to Dumbledore, but they just stared back. Her eyes narrowed slightly at their lack of explanation and decided she liked Snape's answer best anyway. She got up from the table and swept from the Hall, careful not to catch anyone's eyes.

She closed the doors behind her with her mind and fell to the ground, breathing hard. Would every day be this bad? She knew it was a risk, coming to a place as highly populated as Hogwarts, but it was something she'd been willing to risk. For her it was easy to 'drown' in emotion when the emotions of those around her were strong enough and in a certain quantity. She should probably talk to Lupin or Snape she figured… or maybe even Dumbledore or McGonagall if it came to it, try to get permission to transform between classes. Her master had made her an Animagus and when in her animal form, a snow owl, her powers weren't as strong. Yes. She decided as she slowly stood back up that she would have to talk to them.

Sharlen gasped as the doors of the Great Hall reopened just before she set off again. Before her was a boy of about 16, probably in the same year as she would be with white blonde hair and brilliant gray eyes. A lopsided smile was plastered to his shiny complexion and, not to her surprise, he came to her willingly. "Hey," he called as she started back off. He reached for her shoulder but she whipped around again and hissed at him.

"What do you want?"

"I'm the Slytherin Prefect. I noticed you left early, so I just thought I'd show you to our dormitory. I assume that's where you're going?"

The gel that slicked back his hair was nauseating her, and his intent and confidence wasn't helping her headache. "I know perfectly well who you are, Malfoy. I can find it alone," she informed him, starting off again. "Go help the first years and leave me alone."

"Hey babe, hold on-" Sharlen glared at the floor before her, stopping in her tracks and stopping him as well.

"Seriously. Don't touch me." She transformed right before his eyes and flew off to the Owlery, knowing it would be the only place she'd find solitude for now.

Malfoy watched her go, ran his fingers through his hair smugly, and turned to return to the Hall. "She digs me," he told himself as he tucked in to dessert.

Sharlen greeted midnight in the Owlery, perched by the window and watching the Hogwarts grounds, observing how they looked at the darkest hour of night. The Dementors were restless at their posts. Dumbledore had bewitched them before Voldemort could, so they were still on 'their' side. He'd allowed them to continue guarding the grounds, but under no circumstances were they to enter them. Such were the rules, so she'd heard, three years previous. 'He's in this building somewhere,' she knew as a breeze ruffled her feathers. 'He's here somewhere, sleeping, unprepared. Unless he saw me earlier…' She wouldn't think that. She wasn't sure. Tomorrow she would search him out.

She heard someone enter and swiveled her head in the direction of the door. Lupin and Snape were there, the pair of them, wands at the ready and looking straight at her. "Here the rules are students need to stay in their Dormitories all night, Sharlen," Lupin informed her.

She hooted sharply, snapping her beak at them a few times before swooping down to the ground and transforming. She crossed her arms over her black book as she normally did, as though it was a part of her. "How did you know I'd be here?" She was asking Snape. She took no interest in Lupin.

"Draco Malfoy," he muttered in his deep, slurring voice. She knew it would have been his first guess regardless, but he needed to put up a show for Lupin.

"So, what, you have him tailing me?"

"Dumbledore has requested you always have an escort for the most part of your stay here," he explained in a bored tone, his grip on his wand relaxed.

Instinctively Sharlen folded her arms even tighter. "I thought I'd passed his test," she hissed, the wind carrying her words to them and her hair billowing about her angrily. "What do I have to do to get him off my ass, eh?"

"Dumbledore let you in because he does trust you," Lupin tried to reason, "You have proved that. He just doesn't trust you to always follow the rules."

"And he shouldn't," she muttered, averting her eyes from the men in the doorway. "Lower your wand, Lupin," she added as an afterthought. "I'm not here to cause trouble." He frowned at her a little but he did, indeed, lower his wand.

"To bed with you, Sharlen," Snape ordered, pointing her out the door. Sharlen turned a pleading look to Snape.

"But, Mast-" she began, but he narrowed his eyes at her and she hung her head and walked past the men. "Yes Professors." She spat out each word through clenched teeth and made her way to the Slytherin Common room and then to bed.

However, Malfoy was still waiting for her. "What do you want?" she asked him in a bored drone after entering the Common Room. He gestured her over, patting the seat beside him on the couch. She refused it with her eyes and her stance, how she thrust out a hip at the mere wordless suggestion.

"I just want to have a little chat with you," he said innocently. "This is the first time we've gone to school together since we were ten."

"You say it as if it's my fault," she muttered, examining the Common Room. It had three basic colors; green, silver, and black. The silver was used as an accent; translucent silver drapes, silver talons on the clawed black tables and chairs, silver instruments and decorations scattered about the room, contrasting with the black furniture and green bricks. Sharlen rolled her eyes at it. How stereotypical. Were all the dorms like this? "You know damn well that I would have come here sooner if I could have. Years ago."

"God Sharlen, don't put words in my mouth," Draco sighed huffily, narrowing his eyes at her slightly. "I know Severus wouldn't let you come. It was all part of the plan, you know that. And you shouldn't blow this chance." He stood and walked toward her. She didn't move. "You've been given a chance to be among others like yourself. Don't throw this opportunity away." He stopped right in front of her and whispered into her ear, "Leave the bastard alone. You'll only hurt him. You've always only hurt him." He gave her a slow kiss on the neck and walked past her, waving a goodnight over his shoulder.

Sharlen hadn't seen the wave. When his lips touched her flesh she'd frozen, eyes wide, her book falling to the floor with a soft clang as the metal corners hit the bricks. Her vision was blocked of the Common Room and replaced by a scene, a scene of Dumbledore and Draco alone in a tower, Dumbledore completely vulnerable and unarmed. Malfoy looked frightened, hesitant, his aura a mixture of orange and brown to show anxiousness and energy. She saw Snape storm in after a series of Death Eaters and finally kill Dumbledore. There was a hidden presence in the vision. A familiar presence.

She covered her ears against the Unforgivable Curse and turned from the images. She glared as Malfoy continued to walk away from her up the stairs. "Is that your mission?!" She screamed at him. "Is that what your all-powerful mission is?!"

"Ahh," he muttered smugly, turning around. "So you saw me in my moment of triumph against Dumbledore, eh?"

Sharlen braced herself and took a step back. She didn't want to tell him that he'd failed, that her Master would be the one to kill him. To tell him that would make him all the more anxious to succeed, and she needed the old man. "Why are you so anxious… Why do you need to please my father so much?"

"Your father has threatened myself and my family. I don't have a choice. And besides…" He twirled his wand around with a hard expression on his face, like he was going insane. "Besides… I'm a Death Eater now. I live only to serve your father." He bid her goodnight and disappeared up the spiral staircase to the dormitories. Sharlen chucked a silver picture frame concealing a portrait of Salazar Slytherin at a window and broke it.