Sasha had been on the wooden floor crying for over half an hour. She just couldn't believe it. She knew her father was controlling, but to the extent of forcing her into an arranged marriage with a werewolf? He was out of line this time. Well, he was out of line a lot of the time, but this was.... Sasha couldn't even thing of a word strong enough. It was outrageous. That was it; Outrageous. And criminal. Unfair. Sick. As a child, she had always been ashamed that her father worked with werewolves. Now he thought she would marry one? Well, no, she wouldn't.

She pulled herself off the floor and walked into the bathroom. Gripping either side of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white, Sasha stared at herself in the mirror. Her grey eyes were red and bloodshot. The mascara she had applied so carefully that morning ran in watery streaks down her face. Her black hair was a mess from tearing at it.

Sasha almost burst into tears again. She felt like a bitch. She was a bitch. She was as ugly as her reflection. Without really thinking, she shoved the heel of her right hand into the mirror. It didn't break but she felt a little better. She tried again with her left first, but it only resulted in an unsatisfying crack. She started beating on the glass with both hands with increasing vigor until the sink was covered with blood and shards of silver. She barely noticed she was screaming.

She fell to the bathroom floor in tears again. It wasn't because her hands hurt, or even that her father had set her up with a werewolf. It was because her father didn't love her and she knew she deserved it. She let one mistake eight years ago ruin the relationship with her father.

Sasha snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the crunch on glass to her right. A black boot stood on the fine powder of crushed glass.

"Jesus Christ", Dane Osborn swore quietly, looking around.

"Dane? What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, then I heard screaming. Sasha, get up."

With a little help from Dane, Sasha stood. He gently took her bloody hands, pointed his wand at them, and said, "Vulnera Sanatur." The blood on the ground and sink flew back into her hands and the gashes closed themselves. He pointed his wand at the frame of what had just been a perfectly good mirror. "Reparo." A similar result happened to the mirror. As though time was moving backwards, the shards of glass flew up and fitted themselves perfectly back into the mirror.

The bathroom looked spotless and Sasha's hands, while a little stiff, didn't have a scratch on them. While she was admiring Dane's fine wandmanship, Sasha was startled as she found herself being dragged unceremoniously by her arm into the main room. Dane practically pushed her onto an unclaimed bed while he paced the room several times. He stopped after a while and turned to her.

"Look," he said, "you're going to tell me what that was all about, or else I'm going to go to your Headmistress, right now. I don't want to over react, but that was pretty fucked up, Sasha, even by my standards."

Sasha felt sick. She didn't want anyone to think she was psycho, but what else would someone think if they heard about this?

"Alright. Promise you won't tell anyone, though?"

"Absolutely not," said Dane as he sat on the foot board of another bed, "but you're going to tell me anyway. Then I'll judge whether anyone needs to find out or not, so start talking."

Sasha told Dane all about her arranged marriage, but he didn't seem satisfied.

"You're telling me you threw a tantrum because your dad is trying to save the lives of children?" he asked after she finished her story.

"He's not doing it for the children, he's doing it for his job!"

"The job where he tries to stop werewolves from hurting people and yet help them lead meaningful lives when they aren't transformed?" Dane was shaking his head at this point.

"He doesn't see it like that! He sees it as his personal pathway to success."

"And you know this how? You just told me you never talk to him anymore."

"Let's just say he doesn't have the greatest track record for prioritizing people first."

"Any particular reason you say this?"

"Yes."

"Let's hear it then. Unless you convince me you're not a nutter with this, I've got to tell you, I'm going to your Headmistress."

"Fine! Alright." Sasha was getting fed up. She bowed her head so she wouldn't have to look at Dane. She suddenly thought it sounded stupid. "I used to love my dad a lot, but it just felt like he worked all the time. When my parents divorced, I blamed him. I started to resent not just his career, but everything else he did, too. I think eventually he just got sick of trying with me, and he threw himself even further into his work."

"That's it?"

Sasha looked up at him blankly. "Yeah. You know what? Just forget it. You just don't understand."

"No, I think I understand perfectly. Selfish little girl got jealous when daddy tried to be a responsible adult."

"It has nothing to do with responsibility! He was never there," Sasha practically shouted. "He worked extra hours, and weekends. Some nights he didn't even come home. He's missed every one of my birthdays since I was 6. He didn't even go to his own father's funeral!"

Dane rubbed his face with both his hands. "I'm going to do you a favor and pretend I didn't even hear that. I've got to say, I'm surprised at how childish you are."

"You don't think that's a good enough reason?"

He laughed. Did she detect bitterness? "No, Sasha, I really fucking don't. I think you're only seeing this from your perspective and you should be thanking God you have the father you do. Your so fucking lucky and you don't even see it."

"I'm lucky?"

Dane stood up angrily and walked over to Sasha so that he towered over her. "My poor excuse for a father kicked me out of the house when I was 12. Do you know why?" When Sasha failed to give an answer he continued. "It's because I set the couch on fire while he was passed out drunk on it. Now why would I do a thing like that, Sasha?" When Sasha didn't say anything he kicked the bed frame hard enough to crack the wood. "I asked you a fucking question."

"I don't know! You know I don't know!" Sasha said angrily, trying to mask her fear.

"It's because one night I got fed up with all his bullshit. You see, Sasha, not all men are good like your dad. They don't all go to work and try to support their families. Some men, like my dad, are bad. They beat the shit out of their wives and abuse their children. Now, I can't help but remember when you were telling me your little sap story that you referred to you dad as 'controlling'. My mother hasn't been allowed to leave her house for four years. That, Sasha, is fucking controlling." Dane threw himself on Sandy's bed.

"Dane... I sorry."

He looked at her as though she had just said something outrageous. "I don't want you to be sorry, Sasha! I want you to grow up a little. Scratch that: a lot."

"Dane, you must be crazy if you think I like things the way they are between me and my dad! For years now I haven't even been able to be civil with my dad. I would do anything to have at least that, but he hates me. And I deserve it."

"Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself! There is a world of difference between wishing for something and actually trying to get it. Prove to your dad you aren't the little brat you've been acting like. Show some maturity."

In a quiet voice, Sasha asked, "Do you think that would work?"

For the first time since he had come in, Dane's expression softened. "Yeah, I do."

She was quiet for a moment. "I don't want to marry him, Dane."

"Then don't." Dane was lying back on Sandy's bed with his hands under his head.

Her head snapped up. "Then what was all that about proving to my dad I'm not a brat?"

"Not agreeing to enter into an arranged marriage is not being a brat. Forcing your father out of your room at wand point when he comes to discuss the option is. Next time, tell him, like an adult, that you aren't comfortable with the idea. If you do it that way, he might be a little more inclined to help you out. You have a year to come up with alternatives."

The room was silent for what felt like a long time to Sasha. Finally, Dane broke the silence. "Can't they just arrest him? Fenrir?"

Sasha shook her head. "I don't know much about this situation, but I doubt it. Werewolves, in their transformed state aren't considered human, so if the attack someone, you can't arrest them. It would like be arresting a dog for biting someone. So, because he doesn't intend to attack the kids in his human form, whether or not he can be arrested is sure to be really controversial. There is always the Werewolf Capture Unit, which is part of the Beast Division, but it can only capture werewolves when they are in their transformed state, and they let them go once they turn back into humans."

There was another brief spell of silence. Sasha tried to racked her brain, thinking of loop holes, but she found none. Eventually, she gave up for a time and instead asked, "Dane, why did you come here?"

"Well, actually I came to ask you if you wanted to go to the Opening Feast with me."

"Oh, I forgot all about it! Wait, you never go to the Opening Feast." She eyed him suspiciously.

Sasha had always liked the Opening Feast. It was held out side, in the school's most important garden; the rose garden. Both schools attended. Tables and chairs were always set up, the food was always especially good, and afterwards there was a dance and fireworks. It ended at midnight, when the dorm assignments were handed out (although, thanks to her dad, she already had hers). Sasha could completely see someone like Dane hating it, though.

"Yeah, but I thought it might not be bad going with you."

"Me?" Sasha couldn't believe it. She had spent a good six years of her live fantasizing about this guy. Now, in the most unlikely of circumstances he asks her to the Opening Feast? "You just spent a good 20 minutes telling me what a selfish brat I am."

"If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have bothered." He sighed, "If you're not too pissed at me, I would still like to go with you."

Sasha thought it over. "I don't really feel up to going to the feast."

Slightly disappointed, Dane simply said, "I understand."

"Do you want to do something else?"

"Tonight?" Sasha nodded. The corner of Dane's mouth curved upwards."Yeah."

"Dane?"

"Hm?"

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

He thought it over for a minute. "No. But you have to write an apology to your dad."

This thought had occurred to Sasha before. "Yeah. I thought I probably should."

He gave a mirthless laugh. "Well, that's a start."

"You know what? I'll write it right now." She hopped off the bed and threw open her own trunk. She rifled through it until she had a quill, ink, and parchment. She seated herself cross legged on the bed and smoothed the parchment over her quilt. Dane moved to the side of her bed so he could read over her shoulder. Sasha dipped her brown quill into the black ink and began to scratch words onto the parchment.

Father,

I write to you now to express my deep regrets for my behavior. I do not limit this to the confrontation in my dorm, but to my selfish actions in the past. If you truly believe that this werewolf plan is the best course of action, I will be willing to discuss it further.

Your apologetic daughter,

Narkissa.

"A little formal. Stiff. Not bad, though. Are you going to send it now?"

"The owlery doesn't open until classes officially start."

"You can use my owl. He's in my room."

"You sure?"

"Well yeah, that's what I bought him for. Come on."

Sasha happily bounced off her bed. Had she been crying half an hour ago? It didn't seem possible. Dane - sensible, honest, blunt Dane- had done more for her than she could ever say.

But when Sasha went to the door to leave, she realized it was lying on the floor, black with burn marks..

"Oh, yeah, "said Dane, nonchalantly, scratching the back of his neck, "Sorry about that."