Author's Note: I would just like to take a quick paragraph to say thank you to everyone that reviewed my first chapter. I've never shown anything I've written to more than a handful of people before, so it's very encouraging to read so much positive feedback! This next chapter is pretty horrendous as I haven't really had time to work very hard on it, but hopefully I won't make anyone want to take back their kind remarks. Thanks again to all my readers! You really are the best!

XxoxoxoxoxoX

When I first woke up, I could not remember where I was. My neck was stiff and sore from its awkward, hunched-over position atop Intermediate Transfiguration. My legs and left arm were numb from their prolonged exposure to the cold stone lining the dungeons, and my thoughts were far too unorganized to be particularly concerned with standing up.

Slowly, I remembered the events of the night before. I had gone to the library to study, struggled to explain the impossibility to transfigure an empty plate into a bowl of porridge, and then…? My mind drew a blank. How had I ended up sleeping outside of the Slytherin Common Room?

"Are you alright now, child?"

I jumped into standing position with a sharp gasp, wincing as my limbs prickled from the sudden increase in blood flow. The voice had belonged to the chubby, smiling little ghost of the Hufflepuff House: the Fat Friar.

Apparently my shock showed, and the late friar smiled apologetically. "Forgive me, dear. I didn't mean to surprise you, but I was just passing by and thought it would be quite a shame for a growing girl to miss breakfast."

"How...?" I began slowly, finding it difficult to make my mouth work at the same speed as my mind. "What time is it?"

"Oh, there's still plenty of time to eat, if that's what you're concerned about. Most of your House left just a few minutes ago actually." His jovial face wrinkled into a faint frown. "Thankfully, no one attempted to disturb you, but with Peeves' tendency to roam the castle…"

There was no need to explain further; Peeves was most definitely reason to get out of the way as quickly as possible. "I understand. Thank you for the warning, sir!"

I lowered my head respectfully and quickly slipped through the hidden door to the Slytherin dormitories. After hastily changing my clothes and a brief search for a blank roll of parchment to stash in my bag, I set off to the Great Hall.

My pace slowed significantly when I actually came upon the entrance to the large dining room. I could not recall the last time I was not among the first five Slytherins to make it to mealtime. Unable to muster the courage to go in alone, I shuffled my weight nervously from one foot to the other.

"What should I do?!" I moaned aloud. "I'm late to breakfast…I'm late to breakfast!"

In reality, my options were slim. I had already skipped supper the night before to leave ample room to get work done, and my stomach raged against missing another meal. Still, the idea of opening the door to the Great Hall with everyone else already enjoying their meal was unbearable. I could just see myself walking in; my skin turning to gooseflesh as the dull roar of conversation was brought to an abrupt halt to inspect my late arrival. It could not end well. I was doomed.

No! I ordered my imagination to a halt with a swift shake of my head and stared hard at the two large double doors. There isn't a single witch or wizard who will care that I'm late. I'm invisible. Yes, absolutely invisible... I instinctively folded my hands into a prayer. Oh, please, just let me be invisible! With a deep breath that somehow failed to bring any air to my lungs, I pushed open the heavy door and slipped into the bustling hall.

The happy clattering of forks and knives greeted me as hundreds of students laughed, ate and squeezed in some last minute studying. No one looked up from their various activities as I edged nervously to the Slytherin table. Something like a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Never had I been so grateful to be ignored. The only thing left to worry about now was where to sit. My eyes scanned the table for open seats, quickly checking and double-checking my memory bank to be sure it wasn't usually reserved for an old friend, current sweetheart or, even worse, a makeshift dividing line between two rivaling cliques.

"Ebony! Ebony, over here!" My heart stuttered to a halt upon hearing a cheerful voice direct my attention to the Ravenclaw table. The speaker was a pixie-faced girl with a broad smile and dark hair piled in colorful braids.

"Willow!" I grinned with relief and quickly rushed over to meet the eager Ravenclaw. "How are you?"

"Full, but happy," she said with a grin, pointing her fork toward her half-filled plate. As with everything else I had ever seen the girl eat, Willow's plate was assembled into a small barnyard of leftovers, complete with a waffle farmhouse, egg-white cows with yolk spots and tiny pigs assembled from sausages.

"Where's the farmer?" I asked, pointing at the disorganized creatures.

"Oh, Davies ate him," she said casually, winking at an attractive boy sitting a few seats away. I vaguely recognized him to be the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and Willow's current flame. Her smirk grew into a true smile when he returned her sentiment with a small salute. "Sit down, we have space."

"I don't think I should…" I started.

"Yes, yes, I know. Now come on, Saint Ebony, sit down."

Knowing she would not settle for a polite refusal, I did as she told, unable to resist the temptation to snatch a bit of toast and sausage in the process.

For a few moments we shared a comfortable silence, interrupted occasionally with soft crunching sounds as I worked my jaw on a particularly dry piece of bread. Willow and I had a friendship that went back to our very first ride on the Hogwarts Express; there was no need to start gossiping immediately. Though her hair style and love interest changed often, she was always hopelessly positive and easy-going. I laughed a little as I watched her sneak another sidelong glance at Roger Davies. Even as my eleven year old self had cried over being Sorted into different Houses, she had given my hand an eager squeeze and promised "to investigate the dark and mysterious Slytherin boys with just as much enthusiasm as her nerds."

"So rumor has it that you were involved in a little skirmish after the game yesterday," she began slowly, raising an inquisitive brow. "Any truth in that, Ebby?"

"It wasn't a 'skirmish.' One of Potter's friends lost his toad and I found it for him. That's all there is to it."

"Sure, sure, in your version, anyway. The one the rest of the school is telling makes it sound like Pucey and his gang were abusing an innocent Gryffindor when you intervened and saved him from a fate worst than a dead toad. It varies here and there a bit after…uh, that…" she drifted off, her gaze moving to something behind me.

If there was anything Willow did worse than lying, it was withholding information. "Varies?" I pressed.

Her eyes flickered between my face and whatever her distraction was. "Oh, yes…Well, half are claiming that you got the poor thing off the hook free as a phoenix, and the rest say that you were sure to bribe a favor out of him first." She grimaced at the second theory. "It's total nonsense, I know, but you know how stories are when a Slytherin is involved."

"Always the bad guy," I said softly, nodding.

"Don't be like that, Ebony! There's not a single person I know that doesn't think you're a goody to the core, it's just that some people—"

"It's fine, really," I tried my best to smile, but the left side of my mouth twitched.

Thankfully, my friend still seemed sufficiently sidetracked by whatever was going on outside my scope of vision. Assuming it was just another cute wizard, I busied myself with a glass of orange juice and stole a helping of scrambled eggs. If it was anything important, Willow would not allow me to be out of the loop for long.

"Random question," the girl announced suddenly. "Did your adventures yesterday somehow involve Draco Malfoy?"

My fork missed my mouth. "How did you know?"

"Well, either he's using x-ray vision to sneak a peek at Wayne Hopkins' chocolate frog cards, or he's staring at you."

I turned on reflex. Sure enough, Draco's cold grey eyes met mine immediately. With a satisfied smile, he graced me with a wave and motioned pointedly to the vacant seat directly in front of him.

"Ebony," Willow cried, clutching my arm. "What did you do?"

"Everything's fine," I assured her, standing up.

"Do you want me to come? It might help to have extra support."

"Extra support? For Merlin's sake, it's not like he's going to attack me, Willow!"

"You don't know that for sure, Ebony. It is Malfoy, after all."

I rolled my eyes and put a finger to my lips. There was no doubt in my mind that Willow would be watching eagerly for even the smallest sign of drama, but that was a welcome alternative to her approaching Draco with wand ablaze.

My confidence lessened as I left the safety of Willow's over-enthusiasm, and I edged cautiously to the Slytherin table. Something was wrong, I realized. Draco never had a vacant seat around him, let alone directly in front of him.

"You're late, Ravenway," the boy said with smirk, nodding to the seat.

"Where's Pansy?"

Draco's expression turned into one of disgust. "She can go sit with Potty and the Weasel for all I care. Someone of her supreme stupidity deserves to be surrounded by people of the same intelligence. Throwing a party for the Gryffindors…"

My first two words to the boy, and I had already struck a nerve. "I-I'm sorry—I'm sure she didn't—maybe I should go…"

"Sit, Ravenway."

I sat. Seemingly content with my obedience, the boy knit his fingers together to make a bed for his chin.

My eyes seemed to fall naturally to his hands. They were surprisingly attractive. His alabaster skin was stretched almost translucently over his knuckles, and his veins created gentle blue trails across its unblemished surface. Each nail was carefully cut to create a perfect crescent moon of white at each polished tip, and his fingers moved with a strange, almost delicate grandeur.

"That girl is a friend of yours?" Malfoy asked, drawing my attention away from his hands and nodding in Willow's direction.

"My best," I answered, smiling despite myself.

He did not smile back. "I have to admit, I didn't think you had any friends, Ravenway. No one I spoke with seems to know anything more than a piece of your class schedule. It's unusual for someone to seek friends outside of their House."

I trained my eyes on his hands once more to avoid having to meet his inquiring gaze. "I don't seek friends anywhere in particular. They're nice to have, but I was of the understanding that Hogwarts was supposed to be more about learning than socializing." I regretted my words even before they were out of my mouth. Who was I to speak so brazenly to a Malfoy?

Much to my surprise, Draco snickered softly. "So you're a scholar, is that it? And here I thought you were just shy."

"I'm not a scholar. I-I'm—that's not important! Why were you asking about me?" My face was red with embarrassment.

The boy unlaced his fingers and straightened the sleeves of his robes with an impressive yawn. "Well, I make it my business to know about all of the oddities of this school, and you, Ravenway, are most definitely odd."

"I…I see."

"Do you? Then perhaps you could enlighten me." Malfoy seemed frustrated. "You're a pure-blood, and there aren't many of our kind left. Even worse is that families like the Weasleys are making a mockery of what a proud bloodline means. It's an embarrassment to our ancestry, the way they behave! And Potter…" He stopped short. "My point is the Malfoy heir and the Ravenway heir should know each other better. My father would consider it a crime for someone of your background to be forced to look outside of the House for friends. I would consider it a crime."

I stared. There was nothing else I could do. My tongue appeared to have disappeared down my throat.

"Be my escort to Hogsmeade tomorrow," the boy demanded. He did not appear bothered that I was not being allowed a say in the matter. "Celestina Warbeck just returned from her American tour and I'm sure you know how my parents are about rare opportunities. Father arranged for her to perform for my birthday the moment he heard she would be in the area. It is a few months away, of course, but Mother didn't see any problem with giving me one of my presents a little early."

"Celestina Warbeck? You can't mean the singer." Draco smiled vaguely at me, as though my surprise was that of a child's. "She's really coming to Hogsmeade? Tomorrow?! You can't be serious!" I could not imagine news this big escaping Willow's rumor mill.

"Just for invited guests, of course," the young man said in his usual bored drawl. "And, as I'm dissatisfied with the rest of my options, I want you to come with me."

I strained to keep my face expressionless as I waited for the inevitable punchline. He had to be joking; yesterday was the first time he had even gone so far as to acknowledge my existance! His countenance displayed nothing but confidence however, as though waiting for nothing more than my endless stream of thanks to make the date official.

"Um, not to sound disrespectful, but I'll need a bit of time to think about it."

Malfoy could not have looked more surprised if I had just declared myself a Squib. Then, after a short pause, he laughed outright. "You really are queer, Ravenway! Alright, take your 'time' then. I'll save a seat for you. Oh, and try to look nice, won't you?"

Before I could tell him that I was serious, he had stood up and strolled out of the room, Crabbe and Goyle naturally materializing at his shoulders. There was an incensed banging sound on the other end of the table as Pansy Parkinson stood up and followed after the trio, a furious expression on her face as she passed me by without so much as a glance.

Willow waited until most of the table was empty to approach me again. My face was still frozen in the same wide-eyed disbelief, my lips parted in preparation to explain that I really did need to think about it; that he could not expect me to agree simply because he was rich, conceited and popular… "Ebony?" she said timidly. "Ebony, are you alright?"

I turned my head toward her slowly, a distant part of my brain wondering at why she appeared so concerned. "I'm fine." Everything I had prepared to say to Malfoy disappeared in a flash of comprehension. It was though I was seeing everything with perfect clarity for the first time. He could expect me to simply go along with him. I was no Harry Potter; I would never disagree. He was Draco Malfoy. No Slytherin in their right mind would need "time" to think about being seen anywhere with him.

"I'm fine," I repeated, wonder in my voice. "I'm going to Hogsmeade with Draco Malfoy."

XxoxoxoxoxoX

Author's Note: Ick, eh? Oh well, true to my word, there's Willow for you all, and some sort of vague promise to get music involved. Like I said before, this isn't really anything like My Immortal, but I'm doing the best I can to incorporate things… I'll have Chapter 3 on the way shortly, and, with any luck, successfully redeem myself in the eyes of HP fans. Praise or criticism is, as always, welcome.