Warning: This is an 'a Song of Ice and Fire'-crossover, so keep in mind that this story may include, but may not be limited to: foul language, blood, gore, sexual situations, disembowelment, rape, character death, dismemberment, incest, defenestration and being burned alive.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author Note: Thank you for all the nice reviews! While most of them were simply prompts for me to get on with the next chapter, I appreciate them all the same.

-x-

Chapter Three: I am back

-x-

The sound of three pairs of feet passing over solid granite reverberated through the otherwise silent hallways on the first floor of Hogwarts castle. Every so often, Daphne and Tracey cast concerned glances at the third witch in their company. Cordelia Potter was staring intently at the passing ground under her moving feet with unseeing eyes. Her mind was obviously on other, more pressing, matters as she was nervously biting on her bottom lip, something her two best friends knew to be a tick of hers if she was particularly worried about the happenings in her life.

She had yet to utter a single word beyond some half-hearted assurances, for Madam Pomfrey's sake, that she did feel fine. That had been back in the infirmary where they had left minutes earlier after Cordelia had been forced to undergo a quick check-up, to ascertain that her unexpected change of appearance had not had a negative impact on her health. The outcome of the test had been quite clear. Physically she had been perfectly fine. Even though no one seemed to have the slightest clue on what could have possibly caused her new and drastically changed likeness.

Daphne and Tracey, who were trailing half a step behind their friend, who had yet to notice their disappearance from her sides, shared a meaningful look with the other before quickening their pace in order to catch up with the distraught witch.

After taking a deep breath Daphne decided to push through in order to get to the bottom of Cordelia's sudden behaviour. "You know that nothing really happened, right?" she hesitantly started. "Merlin knows how you did it this time, but against all odds you are still alive. And even though that dragon as good as incinerated you, you managed to avoid attaining any scars! That is pretty much a miracle considering that a good chunk of your skin was completely burned off."

Seeing that her friend had slowed down and had come back from whatever far recess in her mind her thoughts had been wandering, in order to pay attention to what was she was saying, Daphne softly continued. "Your hair and eyes may have changed, but you are still Cordelia Potter, sole heir of the Potter family, a stunning, beautiful, young woman, who can achieve anything if she would use her Slytherin cunning instead of that Gryffindor brashness, that she appears to be unable to get rid of."

There was a moment of silence where only the slow, rhythmic beating of their hearts could be heard, before Daphne swallowed in order to lubricate her suddenly dry throat. She slowly placed a slender hand on her friend's shoulder and finished her talk with conviction. "You are still our dear friend, Cordy. That will never change."

The white-haired witch whirled around on her feet upon hearing these last words and flung her arms around Daphne, who quickly reciprocated in the tight hug. She clung to her best friend, who had given her the reassurance that everything would be fine – somehow. The reassurance that she had desperately needed to hear. Face burrowed in the crook of her neck, she sobbed her heart out, trying to lighten her heart after all that had happened to her this last month. Chest heaving from the excess of emotions she was feeling, she slowly moistened the shoulders of Daphne's expensive, silk school robes with her salty tears.

"There, there, Cordy. We've got you," Daphne murmured to her fiend, while she patted her on the head, massaging her scalp in order to get her to calm down.

When the sobbing witch had somewhat settled down, she hesitantly started to speak. "It is just that everyone has always described me as looking as my father, but with my mother's eyes. That's gone. Now I have these weird, violet eyes and white hair of all things! All I have left from my father are the high cheekbones that come from grandmother Dorea's side of the family."

"I must say that I agree," Tracey decided to butt in, tired of passively watching the events unfold from the side-line as a mere spectator. "You do look a bit like a pigment-less Black when you stop to think about it for a moment or two."

This earned her a watery smile from Cordelia, who appreciated the clumsy attempt at alleviating the awkwardness that had been creeping into the conversation after her emotions had gotten the better of her.

Daphne however rolled her eyes at Tracey's trademarked, silly humour and suggested that they continue their journey towards the Great Hall, lest they miss breakfast. It was still early in the morning of this Tuesday, but at the pace they were going they were hard pressed to get there before supper.

Tracey defended her humour from her friend's eye rolling, convinced that there was absolutely nothing wrong with it whatsoever. "It's true though. If it weren't for her hair colour, you would think she is a daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Black. She has got the slender build to boot!"

"Oh and Cordy?" Tracey called for her friend's attention, with a mischievous twinkle present in her eyes, in what sounded suspiciously like a singsong voice, "You don't have to worry about your looks. I am quite sure that Daffy would be more than happy to vouch for that." Tracey started skipping ahead of them in order to get a head start from the retribution that would inevitably follow; "After all, she did seem to be enjoying herself back in the bathroom, when you decided to give us a nice view of that delectable bum of yours. You looked rather cute!"

"Tracey!" followed Daphne's cry in mortification, not a split second later. With a slight blush adorning her normally pale face, the witch quickly sprinted forward in order to serve Tracey to a well-deserved slap on the arm. All sense of decorum, something the Ice Queen of Slytherin was known for amongst the school community, was momentarily forgotten in her pursuit of her elusive friend.

Cordelia shook her head at the duo's antics, as they were still chasing each other through the hallways. There was a wide, beaming smile on her face and her earlier tears and worries were all but forgotten. 'Those two will never cease to amaze me,' she thought to herself with a certain fondness.

Few minutes of playful banter later found the three witches approaching the last stop before their actual destination: the entrance hall. Stopping before the large, oaken doors of the great hall, the girls looked at each other trying to settle their nerves at what would most assuredly become an unpleasant experience. There was little any of them could do to make Cordelia's grand reintroduction into the land of the living, or more specifically the school community, any less awkward though.

'I am Cordelia Potter, the bloody Girl-Who-Lived, and I managed to survive a second near-death experience that would have killed any lesser person. Of course they will be all over me,' Cordelia sighed in frustration. 'Not to mention the idiotic articles, which the Daily Prophet will without any doubt have posted about the whole tournament.'

The pensive witch was startled from her thoughts when Tracey pointed her maple wand at her. "What in Morgana's name are you doing, Trace?"

"Just putting a small glamour on you. Nothing to worry about," Tracey assured her friend before waving her wand in front of Cordelia's new, haunting eyes with a series delicate gestures, containing a few twirls. "There that will do it," Tracey appraised her own spell work, pleased with the result of her handiwork.

Casting an inquisitive look at Daphne rendered her a quick reply to her unspoken question. "Your emotional breakdown back in the hallway, left some tear tracks on your face. Tracey covered it up for you. Now you look as pretty as you should be after your long beauty sleep," she teased lightly.

Cordelia nodded at the explanation and turned towards Tracey. "Thanks Trace," she told the dark haired witch with a grateful smile. "This is already going to be bad enough without me looking like an emotional wreck!"

The witch took a deep breath, filling her chest with the rather cool air from the corridor in an attempt to steel her nerves and stop the wrangling feeling she had in her stomach.

"Right then", she asked as much to herself as to the two Slytherins, "are we ready to go?"

When she received to firm and -more importantly- confident nods, Cordelia squared her shoulders and went through the wide open doors, entering the Great Hall. 'Time to face the masses.'

It was worse than she had expected.

The moment she set foot into the hall, where the vast majority of the student population was having their breakfast on this bleak Tuesday morning, silence descended upon the occupants of the room. The first to have noticed her entrance were the folks seated closest to the door. They snapped to look at her in dead silence, drinking in her new, exotic appearance, which in turn alerted the people around them that something unusual was at hand. This sequence of actions was repeated numerous times in a matter of mere seconds, until like the falling of domino stones everyone had their eyes trained intently on her person, while she was trying to walk seemingly unperturbed towards Fleur, who was eating at the end of the Ravenclaw table.

'Ignore them. Everything will be fine. You are almost there,' she desperately told herself, repeating the credo in her mind, in a desperate attempt to keep her courage from abandoning her.

As she was advancing through the narrow space that formed the corridor between the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor table, all that could be heard was the sound of their footsteps echoing against the rough stone walls of the Great Hall, something that would have been drowned out by the noise of merriment of the numerous occupants of the Great Hall on a more normal day.

Eventually though their audience got over their shock induced stupor. At first one hushed conversation started, far away from her, but like a fire lightened in a dry forest in the summer it grew into a blazing inferno. In consternation at what they were seeing all students, from the most serious seventh years to the little, giddy first years, started whispering all over the Great Hall, discussing her reappearance; filling the Hogwarts grapevine with their thoughts and ideas, which were proudly presented as nothing less than knowledge and dry fact.

"Did you see her?" one whispered urgently to her friend. "How did she survive that dragon? She should have died." "Reckon she used some sort of Dark magic?" another speculated, thinking back to their theories from back in second year. "Wow she has become hot!" a guy in the back said none too quiet to his friends, who were nodding in agreement. "Merlin what happened to her green eyes? They are terrifying now! And why is her hair that colour?" "Do you think it is a fashion statement? Or did something go with her treatment?" two witches gossiped after seeing her appearance. "Do you think she would go out with me? I could show her a good time in a broom cupboard."

Trying to ignore the obnoxious and frankly insulting comments she was hearing, Cordelia fastened her pace and head held high, she made her way towards Fleur whose eyes she had caught and who seemed to have been having her breakfast in peace and quiet, away from juvenile admirers.

When Fleur saw her friend, who had been incapacitated until now, approaching, she hurried to stand up to greet her. She took Cordelia delicately in her arms, before pressing her rosy lips in a soft kiss to her forehead, happy that she was once again with them.

Fleur pulled Cordelia down along with her and forced her into the seat next to her own. As Daphne and Tracey arrived and slid into the seats at the opposite side of the table, bemused at the her taking control of the situation, Fleur started piling a rather considerable amount of scrambled eggs and bacon on Cordelia's empty plate. Cordelia could do little more than watch in slight astonishment how hurricane Fleur efficiently prepared her plate.

"Don't give me that look, Cordy," Fleur admonished her friend, while giving her a stern glare. "You have been lying unconscious in the infirmary for three days, surviving on nothing but nutrient potions. That is more than enough to live, but you will be practically famished about now. Now eat. And be silent," she finished as an afterthought, head held high, with an imperial look on her face.

Smirking, Cordelia shook her head in exasperation. 'All my friends seem to have been suspiciously clingy so far… but then again I almost died, so I guess they have a reason to.' She simply shrugged it off and dug in, ignoring the stares and whispers that were still abundantly present all around them in favour of enjoying her first real meal in over three days straight.

-x-

"You English barbarians truly are obsessed with you beloved bacon, aren't you?" Fleur exclaimed in consternation, a bit nauseated, when Cordelia reached out to fill her plate for the third time. She frowned at the plate as if it had personally offended her. "You are going to get fat with all this heavy, greasy food, mon ami! Don't tell me that I haven't warned you."

Cordelia was quick to reply, though she still took the time to first swallow the food already in her mouth - there was no need to give the beautiful French champion any more ideas about Englishmen being barbarians after all. "Hey! I resent that notion! I am pretty sure that I burned at least some calories during the first task."

Upon hearing this, Daphne blinked and then groaned in exasperation. "You have corrupted her Tracey! You have told her too many of your stupid jokes," she pointed an accusing finger at her friend, who was busy giving a high five to Cordelia.

This reaction made the four young women burst into a fit of giggles.

When they were finally about ready to settle down again, they were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Do you mind if we join you?"

Looking up Cordelia noticed none other than Ron and Hermione waiting a few steps beside her. Hermione was her frizzy haired self and was positively beaming at her in happiness of seeing her back on her feet. Ron on the other hand, while still smiling, was looking rather awkward standing there, since the last time they had really spoken, they had still been fighting over the Goblet of Fire incident.

Looking at him now though, Cordelia could see that he really seemed to be sorry about what he had done. Despite everything, she knew that Ron was truly a good guy. Sure, he could be an idiot from time to time and couldn't deal with emotions even if he got someone to spell everything out form him, but he also possessed good qualities, which were unfortunately often overlooked in favour of his more attention catching bad ones.

Cordelia smiled back at Hermione and said in a chipper tone, "Sure take a seat! I am sure we still have something left for Ron to eat."

"It wasn't from a lack of trying on your part though. That much is obvious," Fleur butted in, ignoring the warning poke in her ribcage, she received in retribution from the white haired witch sitting beside her.

Hermione slid down on the bench beside her friend, gave her a quick sideways hug and wasted no time to start talking with great enthusiasm. "Oh Cordelia, I am ever so pleased to see you are up and alive again! Ron and I had seen you entering the Great Hall –who didn't-, but we thought you might want to eat first before we came over. Why did you come eat here by the way and not at the Gryffindor table like you usually do?"

Before Cordelia got the chance to answer any of Hermione's rapid questions, the witch, who was already getting breathless from the seemingly unstoppable stream of words that flowed continuously out of her mouth, continued seemingly without a care in the world. "Never mind that! Are you really alright? I have looked everywhere in the library to see what could have happened to you during the first task, but I couldn't find anything. Though I do wonder why you look that way. Is it from the treatment? Ron and I were banned from the infirmary so we couldn't -"

"Hermione breathe! And one question at a time please. We have discussed this before haven't we?" Cordelia quickly stopped her bushy haired friend's ramblings, as she was quickly losing track of what was being said, something that was hardly an uncommon occurrence when Hermione got excited.

"Sorry Cordelia, I am just glad to see you again," Hermione replied, a small blush creeping up her cheeks, because of the dawning realization of the way she had been acting. She knew perfectly well that even after all these years she could still loose herself in her quest for knowledge with practiced ease.

"Anyway I have collected these for you," she continued, trying to steer the conversation away from the previous subject, while niftily picking something out of her neatly organised, but lead heavy book bag. "These are all the newspaper articles that have been published about the first task in general and your performance and health specifically," she trailed off unsure what more there was to add.

Cordelia took the scraps of cut out paper in possession with a grateful nod, deciding to read them at a later time as they were likely to ruin her mood, before she tucked them safely away between the pages of the thick tome they used for History of Magic.

Thinking back on the last subject Hermione had mentioned, before she herself had interrupted the girls monologue, she decided to simply ask the question on her mind. "Hermione, why were you and Ron banned from the infirmary? I know that Madam Pomfrey can be a bit severe from time to time, but what in Merlin's name did you have to do in order to get her riled up enough to make her resort to such measures?"

Hermione's blush, that had yet to fade completely from her cheeks, intensified as she remembered her transgression that had resulted in them getting on the bad side of a member of staff.

"Well, uh, I saw a house elf working there, I believe his name was bloomy, and, well, I tried to talk to him about his atrocious working conditions. Out of nowhere he got tears into his eyes and started crying," she explained to her friend who was shaking her head in exasperation. "Don't give me that look, Cordelia! You know that house elves deserve to be free! Anyway then Ron suddenly became cross with me for 'starting something like that' when we were visiting you and that, uh, sort of resulted in us getting into a fight –"

"That's about where the old nurse barged in an kicked us out for disturbing the peace in her infirmary and for messing with her staff," Ron finished the tale as it was obvious that Hermione wanted to be anywhere but here at the moment, where she had to undergo the exasperated looks of her friends, who couldn't understand why she couldn't simply let go of the subject. This was all to the great amusement of Daphne, who had an ongoing rivalry with the studious witch. "We decided that it would be safer to let her cool down for a while," Ron shrugged of the end.

Hermione suddenly rose to her feet and hoisted her full book bag on her shoulder, making her lean slightly to the side because of the sheer weight of the old tomes in it. "Yeah, uh, I still had something to discuss with Padma Patil about our Ancient Runes project, so I am off," she hurriedly said to no one in particular, not meeting their eyes.

Before she marched away from the conversation that had suddenly become very awkward for her, Hermione leaned forward towards Cordelia's ear and whispered, her breath tickling her friend's creamy skin, "You should really consider writing a letter to Padfoot in order to inform him how you are doing. The poor man is bound to have read the Dailey Prophet and is probably worried sick about you."

"Thanks for the advice," Cordelia nodded in agreement, thankful for the suggestion, as she would have most likely not realised until much later and the last thing she wanted was for Sirius to storm into the castle, trying to find information on his goddaughter's health. "I will make sure to do that first thing this evening!"

She then turned back towards her waiting friends, who had started a conversation on the different uses of moonstone when used in potions, and doing so she caught sight of Ron who was still seated one seat over, besides the place that Hermione had vacated just seconds ago. He seemed oddly pale, making his freckles go into stark contrast with his skin. Seeing her look at him, he swallowed deeply and nervously began, "Cordelia, I have been thinking a lot lately and I –"

"It is alright Ron, you don't have to apologise to me," Cordelia reassured her oldest and only male friend, having made a split second decision that she had indeed forgiven him for acting like a total jerk during the last weeks, leading up to her tragic confrontation with her dragon.

She patted the empty seat beside her, "We are going to have a serious conversation about what happened though," she threatened, her haunting violet eyes dangerously narrowed to slits, making it crystal clear that he was not completely off the hook, just yet.

"Now though, the two of us are going to finish off that plate of succulent, perfectly crispy bacon," the scary looking witch added seemingly as an afterthought, going from being dead serious to absolutely delighted at having more bacon so abruptly that it made her friends wonder whether she might have a multiple personality disorder. "Fleur has pretty much dared me to do it, so who am I to deny?"

Said French witch managed to somehow produce a strangled noise of disbelief, to the great amusement of Daphne and Tracey, who were watching the drama unfold before their very own eyes, before she dropped her pretty blonde head on her folded arms on the table, banging her head slightly. "Impossible … cochons …"

Still looking somewhat apprehensive at the upcoming conversation, but for the most part reassured by the thought of a chance to sit for second breakfast, Ron slid over and tucked in with gusto along with Cordelia.

When they had finally finished their plate it was about time to get ready in order to head to their first class of the day. Quite a few students had already left to head to their classes, though most of the Great Hall was still filled with people happily gossiping about life at Hogwarts, but mostly Cordelia.

"Are we going?" Daphne asked, a little impatient after watching Cordelia and Ron eat their pile of greasy food. Structured as always, Daphne had been keeping an eye on the time and had informed the others. "Now that you two have finished we can finally go do something more interesting." Standing up, she collected her books, before looking at the violet-eyed witch in front of her. "Oh and Cordy, I have prepared some of my spare writing utensils for you, since you probably won't have time anymore to fetch yours from your dormitory."

"Thanks Daphne! I owe you one, but you guys go ahead," Cordelia told her friends who were looking expectantly in her direction, waiting to go to their next class. "Dear Ronald and I still need to have a little chat. Isn't that right?" Ron grumbled something intelligible that could be passed as an affirmation with some goodwill, while his ears were quickly heating up in embarrassment.

Tracey seemed to have caught on to what Cordelia wanted to do, since she showed no sign of going anywhere, which would mean missing the spectacle, that promised to become a treat to witness. Daphne saw the mischievous grin form on her friend's face and didn't waste any time to swiftly link their arms together and frogmarch her out of the Great Hall. Right before the two Slytherins were out of earshot, Daphne turned around and gave her friend an evil grin along with some encouraging words. "Good luck Cordy. Don't let him off the hook too soon!"

Cordelia shook her head at the duo's antics. 'I should have known that they would do something like this. After all, it's not every day I give Ron a tongue-lashing and Merlin knows how much he annoys them,' the sole witch grimaced. She looked at the redhead next to her, who seemed very interested in his own shoes. "Coming Ron?" she proposed, wanting to get this awkward but greatly needed conversation started and over as soon as possible.

A short nod later, they were on their way.

-x-

Cordelia and Ron were walking through the corridors towards the Transfiguration classroom, located on the third floor, where Professor McGonagall, who happened to be their fair, but very strict Head of House, taught. When the witch was finished checking the collection of parchment, ink and quills, which Daphne had given her along with a small sack that could act as a book bag for now, she raised her eyes to her red-haired friend's freckled face, who was content silently walking with her.

He didn't seem to be inclined to start their conversation anytime soon, so Cordelia looked ahead of her, eyes set in the distance and started talking, thinking it was just too crazy to continue dancing around the problem like this. It was with slight hesitance though, as she knew that whatever was going to be said now would change their relationship and they wouldn't be able to take it back. "I am not angry with you, you know. I mean, I was at first, but after some time had passed, I realised that me getting chosen as a champion probably rubbed you in all the wrong places.

She thought for a second before continuing. "It was more disappointment that I felt; sadness even, because someone who I happily called my friend before had abandoned me when I needed him the most, when everyone else turned against me. It was even worse as you yourself accused me of putting my name in that thrice damned Goblet of Fire and didn't believe me when I guaranteed you I had nothing to do with it."

Cordelia trailed of when she saw that Ron had stopped walking and had kicked the solid stone floor with his foot, an angry expression on his face. "I don't think I ever truly believed that you entered yourself either", he began, "but when I saw that it was once again you that got something I had dreamed about: a chance to finally get the spotlight, to get some money, I just –"

"Became jealous?" Cordelia finished his sentence for him, seeing that Ron was struggling with his emotions.

"Pretty much yeah," Ron confirmed her assessment of the situation, looking intently at the stitching on Cordelia's shoulder, as he didn't seem to be able to bear meeting her eyes at the moment.

"My entire life I have been the second in everything. I have six older brothers. My eldest brother, Bill, became Prefect when he was at Hogwarts and even managed to become Head Boy. Now he has found an exciting, well payed job at Gringotts as a curse breaker. Charlie was the best Gryffindor seeker in ages and as the Quidditch Captain we got a strike of five victories for the cup in a row. He could have played for England if he had wanted to. Percy walked into Bill's footsteps and now he is working hard, trying to make a name for himself at the Ministry, which is something to be proud of, no matter how much I may laugh about it."

"Then you've got Fred and George. Their grades are good enough, but they are really talented and they manage to make everyone laugh with their pranks. No matter what I do, I will always be second best! And you would imagine that Ginny would be the only one who got it even worse, but no, she is the girl in the family! That is what makes her all special and unique in mom's eyes. She at least gets her own second hand robes. Everything I wear is passed down from my brothers. Have you not seen my robes for the ball? They –"

It was at this point that Cordelia stopped Ron's diatribe on the unfairness of his life, by smacking him on the arm, with a force behind it that belied her slender frame. "Oh, stop wallowing in your own self-pity already Ron," she sternly told her friend, who was rubbing the sore spot on his arm, which was sure to bruise, in indignation, "and don't act so childishly. I didn't hit you that hard!"

"No one expects you to be exactly like your brothers," she practically yelled at him, exasperated at his apparent denseness, something he could sometimes exhibit. "You have to simply choose your own path in life. And besides, if you really want to become a Prefect… how hard can it be? There are only four male Gryffindors in our year. Dean and Seamus have decent grades, but they would probably not take the Prefect badge serious and would rather goof around than do their duties. I know this. You know this. But more importantly, Professor McGonagall knows this," she reasoned with her friend who was listening intently.

"Neville is a good guy and would do his duties swimmingly, but he struggles with his studies already and that would only get worse if he had to factor in things like patrol duties and such," Cordelia went on. "On top of that, he would need to be able to guide our house when needed and be a confidant for the younger years, should they find themselves troubled while attending Hogwarts. No matter how much I like the guy, he is not be confident enough to be that centre point of attention."

"Right, all you have said is true, but where are you going with this? It's not like McGonagall would choose me," Ron rebutted.

"Of course she would! Are you the strongest candidate to become Prefect? No," Cordelia stated bluntly, "But compared to the others you make a damn good chance."

"Right now all our Head of House sees is a boy who doesn't appear to be interested in anything beyond stuffing his face full with food, talk about quidditch and play chess. Not necessarily in that order," she said, holding her elegant hand up in order to stave off Ron's upcoming retort. "You are an average student at best and are satisfied when you manage to attain a passing grade. Now, if you want to become a Prefect, you have exactly one year to show old McGonagall that you can put effort in your school work and that you can work organized."

"You really think I can become a Prefect?" Ron asked, hope shining through in his voice, as he stood a bit straighter already.

"Sure! As long as you are willing to work for it," Cordelia reassured the boy beside her with a cheerful smile. "And that counts for everything, you know. The twins have their pranks and are now working hard in the hopes of someday starting joke shop of all things. You do have your own talents. You just have to do something with them."

Ron let out an unintelligible noise of agreement, though he was clearly mulling over something in his head.

"If you want to get better robes I am convinced that we can find some book or another in the library on the subject of tailoring that can help you in that regard," Cordelia told him. "Or if that doesn't work you could just transfigure it into something more to your liking. That should hold for a couple of hours at the very least," she thought out loud.

Ron smiled at his friend, who was supporting him despite everything. Making up his mind he asked her, "Say Cordy, could we practice my keeper skills a bit this year? If I want to become the Gryffindor keeper next year I can't be seen slouching now, can I?"

Cordelia was immensely relieved when she saw the outcome of their talk before her.

"Whatever you want Ron. We can practice at the quidditch pitch this Sunday if you want? We can even get some more people together and play a pickup game!" Cordelia agreed, sounding very excited all of a sudden at the idea of roaming the sky once more on her faithful Firebolt. "I have really missed feeling the wind in my hair."

Just as she said this a clock chimed, signalling the time.

"That will have to wait though! If we don't hurry we will be late for the old cat's class and we can't have that if you want to be a Perfect Prefect like Percy," Cordelia laughed, while she took off, running quickly, leaving her friend behind.

"Oi! Not funny, Cordelia."

-x-

A few hours later the white-haired Potter swiftly made her way, without bothering to look up, past hordes of students, who were working diligently, seated next to each other at the long heavy tables of the library, through the ceiling high shelves containing stacks upon stacks of books on a wide variety of subjects, towards a dark, dusty and -more importantly- forgotten area in the back of the Hogwarts library.

It was here between the shelves that contain the works of a more esoteric nature, which only a handful of dedicated Newt-students bothered to consult in their pursuit of exotic titbits of knowledge to finish their papers, that Cordelia, Daphne and Tracey had taken up the habit of studying.

The dust was rather bothersome as it made the witches sneeze without fail and it had the rather annoying habit of sticking to whichever surface it could land on, however dealing with it was rather straightforward if one knew an efficient cleaning charm or two. If you made the effort to add a privacy spell, to ward off any potential eavesdroppers, and a light notice-me-not charm, to stay under the radar of those few individuals who ventured this far into the library, you had the perfect meeting spot for three teenage girls to study or make their homework, but above all to talk in all the privacy one could possibly attain while at a boarding school.

Their little hideaway was equipped with a heavy, ornately carved, oaken table that someone had managed to squeeze in between the back wall of the library and the veritable maze of bookshelves separating them from the entrance and the more frequently visited areas.

When Cordelia finally rounded the last bookshelf, the last obstacle on her familiar route towards their spot, she noticed straight away that someone was currently occupying their table. However to her great relief it was a familiar blonde-haired witch who was seated in one of the comfy leather chairs, head bowed over the long roll of parchment that she was scribbling on in her elegant handwriting, which bore resemblance to calligraphy, still adding to its already considerable length.

Cordelia plopped down in the armchair opposite the diligently working witch, before she dropped her head back on the headrest, hair cascading over her shoulder like an avalanche of snow in the mountains, and let out a long suffering sigh through her nose. Her tired, violet eyes were staring intently at the dust particles, which flew around above her high in the hair, being moved in enthralling patterns by the currents in the air, making a memorable exposition as one after the other lighted up either by the different beams of light that managed to reach this deep into the library or the flickering torches, mounted to the walls.

Daphne raised her head in order to look at the new arrival and daintily lifted one of her elegantly curved, blonde eyebrows when she noticed her friend reclining in her chair, limbs sprawled all over the place. She once more focussed her writing, carefully checking it for any mistakes or discrepancies she might have made during the distraction, before asking, "What has got you so riled up? Did you have a bad day mayhap?"

More than happy to finally be able to vent her pent up frustrations to a listening ear, Cordelia obliged. "The entire day people have been staring at me… Well, my hair more like it and when I look back at them they won't even meet my eyes. It's as if… as if they are convinced that my change of appearance is somehow infective."

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia pushed herself to be in a more appropriate, upright position and looked at Daphne who had stopped pretending to pay any notice to her unfinished school work. "And then the worst part you already know!" she continued louder than would be appropriate for a library were it not for their silencing charms, clearly on a roll. "Who in their right mind decided to host a bloody Yule Ball this year? When Professor McGonagall called me out to stay after class this morning, I thought she was going to talk to me about the examination I missed, but instead she warned me that as a champion I will be expected to participate in the opening dance of the ball.

Theatrically waving her arms around before her, she managed to indignantly bring out. "Which means that not only will I have to be in the spotlight, but I also have to bring a date and dance with him – in public! One, I can't dance. Not even a little bit. And two, ever since the Yule Ball was announced, I feel like every single male student has been watching me like a hawk, eyeing me up as they go. I swear every time one them takes even a single step in my direction, I am panicking inside that he is going to ask me to be his date to the ball."

Cordelia looked lost as she told this, clearly on the last of her nerves, which had been frayed by the taxing circumstances of the day, and continued more wistfully in a more sedate tone. "Ugh. For the first time in my entire life I would almost wish that I was born as a male. Then I would at the very least have been able to ask someone myself instead of having to sit around and wait," she finished her part of the conversation.

Daphne carefully laid her quill down, making sure to not make any ink splotches on her unfinished work, before informing her in a measured tone. "You can always tell any would be suitors that you will consider their offer. That will keep them at bay for a little while at least. Though if you want a specific boy to take you, you could always drop a few subtle, or not so subtle hints," Daphne smirked at Cordelia who was clearly out of her depth in this conversation. "Or if you don't have anyone in mind, I could always set you up with someone… I have a lot of cousins, you know."

Cordelia shook her head with an uneven smirk tugging on one of her rosy lips. "Merlin save me from that! Though perhaps I will have to take you up on that offer, just to be done with it." She looked pensive for a moment before posing her most pressing question. "Daffy, could you teach me how to dance? I know your mother taught you when you were a child as part of your education."

Cordelia blinked and suspiciously regarded her best friend, when she saw Daphne's reaction to her request. She didn't particularly like the sly smile that had formed on Daphne's face, nor the cunning glint in her eyes that spoke volumes of the fact that the Slytherin was up to something.

Said witch replied with fake nonchalance, "I suppose I could assist you in that particular endeavour. Though I would have to insist that I also have the liberty to teach you some other Ladylike arts while we are at it. It would simply be a wasted opportunity not to do so. And besides, it is about time that you know how to act like a proper Lady of your station!"

Cordelia groaned and mulled about the tricky offer, 'That doesn't sound very appealing. Though what are my other real choices?' Making up her mind she spoke clearly, "Fine. You can turn me into a Lady if that's what you want. Happy now?"

Daphne beamed at her friend, obviously very pleased with her decision. "Very! Now open your books Cordy! Just because you had a though day, doesn't mean you can just laze about." The happy witch suddenly narrowed her eyes, critically looking at the way Cordelia was sitting in her armchair. "And straighten you back. A Lady doesn't slouch!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes in exasperation. Merlin knew she was already starting to regret her decision. Perhaps she should have gone to Tracey of even Fleur instead. Sighing she obliged to Daphne's command. The other witch had been right after all: she would curse herself tomorrow if she slacked off today.

-x-

An hour later, Daphne and Cordelia were going over common ward schemes and the uses of Nordic runes in them, when Tracey finally made her appearance at their meeting point. "Hey girls I - why is Daphne smiling like a cat who got the canary?" she asked to Cordelia's back who was sitting nearest to her, more than a bit worried after spotting the slightly unsettling sight in front of her.

Before Cordelia got the chance to answer however, Daphne replied, her grin becoming even more pronounced than it had already been for the last hour. "Because our sweet Cordelia here agreed to let me coach her in her studies to become a true Lady."

No. Cordelia most definitely did not like the smirk on Tracey's face. She should have chosen for Fleur after all. Damn.

-x-

Author Note: I know that officially Fleamont and Euphemia Potter are Harry's grandparents. However as they were not once mentioned in the entirety of the series, I have no qualms whatsoever to call on my right as a writer to make changes as I see fit and name Charlus Potter and Dorea Black as Harry's grandparents. This is not simply my fancy, it will be instrumental for the story later on.

Despite having an emotional breakdown in this chapter, I do consider Cordelia to be a strong female character. The events of the last months: being vilified by the school –again-, having to confront a dragon and witness the change of her own appearance, the last thing tying her to her parents, just sort of became too much for her to bear.

I am not entirely sure who I want Cordelia to go to the Yule Ball with, so I am open for suggestions.

As always, let me know what you think about the story in the review section. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!