"Honestly, Lestrange, what was that all about back at the feast?" said Millicent Bulstrode, lazily kicking her trunk under her four-poster bed, "You looked like you'd swallowed an angry doxy."

Veronica lay flat on her back, her left arm covering her eyes. She had spent the remainder of the feast staring intensely at the table in front of her, and had practically sprinted out of the door and straight down to the Slytherin dormitories when it was over. Millicent and Pansy had found her here and she was trying as hard as possible to avoid their questions.

"As much as I appreciate your concern, Millicent, it really is nothing," Veronica said impatiently.

"Rubbish, it's nothing!" came Pansy's voice. "Draco says--"

"Bollocks to whatever Draco has to say!"

"--says you've been acting funny all day. Talking to yourself and all that."

"I'm…" Veronica struggled for a lie that would suffice, "nervous about…OWLs this year."

Millicent scoffed. "If you start worrying now, you'll be dead by the time exams come round." She pulled back the curtains of her four-poster and climbed into bed without another word.

Once Millicent could be heard snoring, which didn't take long, Pansy strode with obnoxious confidence over to Veronica's bed and sat down at the end of it, Indian-style. Veronica looked at her.

"What?"

"I'm not thick."

Something scary began writhing in Veronica's stomach.

"What do you mean? I know you're not--"

"I know what's wrong with you. You just don't want to admit it."

Veronica froze, held her breath, and waited. She had been found out. Pansy Parkinson had come over all observant. She knew Veronica was in love with the Potions Master, and it was only a matter of days before the entire school knew. Veronica thought she would explode with the stress of it when Pansy spoke.

"You believe Potter, don't you?"

Veronica's eyes flew open. "What?!"

"You're scared that You-Know-Who's strong again."

She couldn't help letting a sigh of enormous relief escape. Immediately sloding into the lie, she said,

"Ah…yes. I, uh, yes, terrified. Not that I trust Potter, it's just that…the evidence…Cedric Diggory…"

"Veronica. You're being silly. Cedric Diggory's death wasn't all that unusual. Loads of people have died in Triwizard Tournaments, Dumbledore said so. One of the few things he's said that don't prove he's lost his marbles."

Veronica scoffed, feeling a pang of guilt along with it. Pansy continued.

"Besides, even if You-Know-Who were back--and he isn't--but if he were you'd have nothing to worry about."

Veronica's eyebrows drew together. Now genuinely interested, she proceeded cautiously.

"What do you mean? If the Dark…if You-Know-Who's back, Hogwarts will be the first place he'll come. To find Potter. Dumbledore can only protect us for so long."

"Well, yeah, but you're a Lestrange. My dad says your mum and dad are the most loyal Death Eaters. You-Know-Who comes here, he'll pass you up, if not try to recruit you. 'Course, we might lose the odd Mudblood, but…" Pansy waved her hand dismissively.

Veronica felt sick. She stared at her for a moment.

"Uh…thanks, Pansy…nice to have someone to talk to. But, er, I'm a little tired, so…"

"Say no more," Pansy said, lifting herself from the end of the bed, then she added, "You know, Lestrange, everyone hates you, but I think you might be okay."

Veronica didn't respond, just shut the hangings on her bed. That was just like Pansy, to have a totally friendly and even pleasant conversation with a person and then leave them feeling insulted and disturbed.

After hours of lying awake, Veronica finally drifted into a light sleep, filled with incoherent dreams in vivid color.

The first day was all her good subjects, but nonetheless a bit of fear shot through Veronica's heart when she received her schedule. Transfiguration, Divination, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It then occurred to her that their last DADA teacher had been sacked, and she didn't know who was teaching it now. Having not paid much attention to the speeches the night before, she didn't know if Dumbledore had introduced a new teacher.

Looking down the table for someone that wouldn't recoil if she spoke to them, she saw Pansy Parkinson.

"Pansy," she whispered, rushing over to her, "As you well know, I wasn't listening last night, so…who's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?"

Pansy rolled her eyes and snickered.

"Some woman from the Ministry called Umbridge. She's inhumanly perky and wears a lot of pink."

"Alright, thanks." Veronica started to turn around then decided it would be in her best interest to keep up the lie she had started. "And thanks again for listening last night. I, uh, feel better now." Without waiting for a reply, Veronica started out of the Great Hall for a quick trip to the library before classes.

Neville Longbottom rounded a corner ahead of her, face to the floor, and they collided.

"Sorry, sorry," Neville stammered. When he looked up to see who he's run into, he met Veronica's gaze only for a second, and then ran swiftly back the direction he's come, abandoning a few rolls of parchment. Veronica figured it would be easier to just keep them than to try and give them back.