Alina

"I do not know why your Headmaster requires that you learn this insipid potion, but I am required to teach it to you all the same," Snape drawled.

I scribbled down the diagrams in chalk as quickly as I could. I didn't want to learn how to make a love potion either, but it wasn't my fault that the magical world treated such dangerous potions as jokes.

Just thinking about brewing them made me want to wash my hands until my skin was as red as the colors of my sister's tie.

It was a love potion, when my parents got together. They liked each other enough that they accidentally slipped it in each others' chocolate cauldrons on the Halloween before I was born. They liked each other enough to keep the baby, to stay together— but Mum always felt that the love potion itself was a mistake.

"I loved your father, Starshine," she told me one morning, when I was only eight years old. "Still do. But I wish I'd had the courage to just tell him. I love you, and I don't regret you at all— but I wish I'd had you all a little later on in my life."

By then, I'd known about the emergency measures they'd had to take during Artemis's birth. Five daughters in four years, starting at seventeen— it did its damage to her body. Now my mother could never have children again.

For all that she said she didn't regret us, didn't regret Dad, I knew that I would never want that for myself or for my children.

I would wait, I would leave the potions alone. I wouldn't get into any schoolyard romances. I was at Hogwarts to work, to create a life for myself where I wouldn't be a mother straight out of school.

I worked diligently, my dark hair frizzing and escaping the bun atop my head.

"You know, you're even more of a looker like this."

I rolled my eyes at Gwydion Goyle, an absolute arse in my year. "Bugger off, Goyle. You're spilling my ingredients everywhere."

He instead approached even closer, forcing me against the desk with his domineering Beater's figure. He grabbed for my hand, but I got my wand.

"Oi! Leave her alone!"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes again as one of the Ravenclaw boys, a Tristram Ambrose, approached, looking all posh and perfect. He was a pretty boy, the kind that could never survive any kind of fight or struggle.

"Fight me, Ambrose!"

"He will!" Another Ravenclaw boy joined Ambrose— Ky Emerys. I knew him well— a scrappy muggle-born from the poor parts of Wales, who was lucky enough that he and his siblings all ended up witches and wizards.

"All of you need to leave, or I will make a scene," I threatened. "Detention or no, you are messing with my potion."

"Forget it, you're not worth it," Gwydion determined before stalking up to turn in his potion. It would get some perfect grade, even though it couldn't even make a toad fall in love with him.

I finished stirring my potion, and was about to put it in a vial when I realized Ambrose and Emerys were still standing there.

"Do you want something?" I demanded.

"Aren't you going to thank him?" Emerys demanded.

"I had it," I said, trying to sound detached but polite. "But I suppose, thank you."

Ambrose nodded, smiling to himself. "Come on, Emerys. Leave Black alone."

Emerys reluctantly followed, and I put the potion in the vial. I'm not the greatest at potions, but even I knew it would be sufficient. No matter what Snape said.

Vega

I was looking forward to a Hogsmeade weekend. Sure, I was a second-year, but I was determined to sneak out, and found a few secret passageways in and out of the castle, through sheer luck. My favorite passage was near the painting of the troll ballet, but I had to pace it at least four times over before I found the passage.

The morning of, I was so excited I didn't dare eat breakfast. Instead, I wandered about the halls of Hogwarts on the morning, waiting until Hogsmeade. I walked past the common room, and I was so lost in my thoughts I walked right into a leaving the Slytherin Common Room.

Expecting a rude lecture like Slytherins usually gave, I was greeted with a nervous look on the boy's face.

''Hi, I'm sorry I knocked into you!'' I said.

''S'alright. I was just leaving...'' the boy muttered.

''What year are you in?'' I questioned. ''I don't think I know you. I'm Vega, Vega Black.''

Instead of answering me, the boy flew past me. The last thing I saw of him was his navy blue eyes, looking scared.

''Okay then...'' I mumbled.

''Vega!'' I turned to see a blur of black and blue fly at me.

''Hi Cho!'' I smiled. While my House had not been the source of my friends, except for Shahrzad, I had found one in Cho Chang.

"Excited for this weekend?" Cho asked, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "No older students—"

"I've actually got to study," I said, pretending to pout. "Going to be in the library the entire time."

"That's rotten," Cho declared. "Well, make sure to drop by the Great Hall at four-thirty. Cedric will be done with Quidditch then."

I'd heard of Cedric Diggory, and Cho was bugging me to meet him, claiming I'd like him or something.

''I promise I'll be there," I promised. I checked my watch— the one on my wrist, not the golden one that dangled on a golden chain underneath my sweater. That was reassuring, in its constant beat against my skin. "I've got to get going."

"Well, I'll see you then."

I almost felt bad for not telling her. Then again, I just needed a break.

It was a wonderful place, Hogsmeade was. It was full of laughing and chatting students, something I rarely saw in Slytherin. Students crowded into the most popular shops, most into The Three Broomsticks or some Quidditch shop. I had no interest in Quidditch, so I had no interest in going in those shops.

The first place I headed to was Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. With all the essays due these days, I was in desperate need of quills.

Inside the shop was beautiful. The interior was made of cherry wood, with delicate carvings. And on every wall and stand were quills; ranging from normal cheap quills, to beautiful and expensive quills.

I wondered the shop looking at the quills. I went to look at the normal ones for usage, and I decided on a, eye-catching black quill with the Hogwarts crest, and the feather color changed based on the user's mood. There was no way I was going to pick from the large collection of Slytherin quills.

After I bought the quill, along with some ink, I wondered over to the more delicate and expensive quills. Some of them were billions of galleons, which I thought was silly; they were just quills.

I reached out to touch a rather pretty quill, one made of dark wood, the feather from a Phoenix. Supposedly, it even had a certificate assuring buyers that it was such. It was warm to the touch, but not blazing.

As my hand brushed the quill, another hand did at the same time. As I turned to see who it was, it turned out to be Sophia Khan and her friends, Briallen Woodland and Ivy Lockwood.

''Well, well, look who it is," Briallen drawled.

"You're not supposed to be here." Ivy smirked.

I rolled my eyes at my roommates. ''You aren't, either."

"What are you talking about?" Sophia blinked innocently. "I'm just visiting my family in the village. You have only that mudblood mother of yours—"

"Beat it, Khan," I said, closing my eyes.

''Yes, yes, well, I would, but this quill is a tad bit out of your budget, right?" Sophia picked it up, twirling it in her hand. "Being a single mother means your mum can't exactly be rolling in it, can she?"

I clenched my fists, but did nothing, I was halfway to the door when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a boy with the same gray-green eyes as Sophia's, holding a small box with a hand drawing of a phoenix on the outside.

"I thought you might like it," he said. "Sorry that my sister's such an arse."

"It's alright." I said. "Are you—"

"Fraternal twin," he said. "I didn't sneak out, though. I don't attend Hogwarts."

"What do you mean?" I asked, accepting the box in shock.

He glanced around, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm a Squib."

"Really?" I couldn't help but whisper.

"Not that you should share that," he said. "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Vega." I then realized the box was in my hands. "I shouldn't take it— it's your money—"

"No, it's alright," Sam said. "It's for a friend."

"You get lonely, don't you?" I realized. I looked back at Sophia and her friends, who weren't sure whether to giggle or glare. "I'll write— and meet you— if you'd like?"

He nodded. "I think I'd like that very much."

"Well, thank you for your gift," I said. "We'll have to talk again soon."

Alina

That evening, I was trying to have a nice dinner in peace, when Emerys came up to me.

"You know, Tristram fancies you," he said.

"I did not know," I said. "But kindly tell him that I'm not interested." I felt a little bad for saying that. I did like Tristram a little bit. But I didn't dare let a boy get an idea. I couldn't fall off track in the slightest. "Not because I don't think he's wonderful. But I'm not good girlfriend material. I'm sure you can see that much."

"Look, I don't know what he sees in you, either," Ky agreed. "But he cares for you. And not like Gwydion does, like you're his possession."

"I don't need you to tell me how to live my life," I informed him coolly. "Please bugger off, Emerys, do us all a favor. Tell your boy I'm not interested."

"Fine, but you're making a mistake," Ky warned, narrowing his coffee-dark eyes.

"And it's mine to make."

He scampered off, just as Helena approached. "Gwydion was trying to get me to speak to you on his behalf. Wonder what's got all the boys so interested in you."

"I wonder that too," I said, my voice hollow as I watched Ky tell Tristram, and watched Tristram's face fall. I decided to drink my pumpkin juice, and leave it all alone.

The more I drank, the more I felt bad about earlier. He didn't deserve it. He was only trying to get with me. And it wasn't like anyone else would love me, with that attitude. I suddenly felt like I needed to make things right, or else nothing would be right again.

I had to apologize to Gwydion.

Vega

I still had snow in my hair and the box in my hands as I entered the Great Hall. I felt Professor Snape's eyes on me, but I knew he wouldn't do anything, lest it negatively affect Slytherin as a house.

"Vega, where have you been?" Cho stood up, a pretty boy in Hufflepuff robes next to her. "This is Cedric."

"Oh." I couldn't help but say it as I shook his hand. It was as if time had stopped a moment. I wondered if this was one of those crossroads that Serena was always talking about. Cedric was going to be someone special, someone great— I just knew it.