a/n: once again, here is a revision of this chapter. i'm working on writing up the rest and i've got a good idea of what i want to happen. enjoy!


The carriage ride up to the castle wasn't pleasant. It was absolutely pouring rain by the time they had gotten off the train, leaving Des and Anya soaked to the bone after they had sprinted from the shelter of the station to an open carriage. It was awkward after Des' argument with Anya. Anya refused to even look at her and Des couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty for it. She was never going to apologize first, however. It wasn't how things worked. Des wouldn't apologize until she was truly desperate for her best friend back, even if it meant complete silence in each other's presence. Des was never one to swallow her pride and neither was Anya... the two of them were in for a long period of silence.

It was the usual bustle of students, with the exception that the rain was making it much worse. Anya and Des scurried up the steps, thankfully being some of the first up the steps and into the warmth of the castle, as she heard the familiar cackle of Peeves the Poltergeist before a water bomb dropped behind them, soaking their backs with freezing water.

She could already feel herself becoming more and more irritated.

It was with a deep breath and her mind already set on being annoyed the whole night that she entered the Great Hall, her mouth twisting into a low frown. There were already hundreds of students at their respective tables. The ceiling, bewitched to look like the sky outside, was stormy and though she was warming up with the heat in the room, she couldn't help but shiver as a bright flash of forked lightning jumped across the ceiling, following by a massive clap of thunder. Her stomach growled, almost as loud as that thunderclap, and she could already feel the pounding headache she would get from hunger as well as the noise of running mouths that resonated off the hall's towering walls. "Bloody hell, there'd better be a small batch of firsties this year." Des muttered to herself, quickly wishing she and Anya were speaking so she could make a joke about eating Annastel Brub instead of waiting for the feast to have Anya whisper back that Annastel couldn't possibly be edible, what with how bony she was, and they should opt to eat the Crabbe boy instead.

There was a faint feeling of loneliness before Des focused on something else beside her hunger and her lack of a best friend. She sat down across from Draco, supposedly one of the only people left she didn't completely despise yet... though that was subject to change, considering that Draco himself had become quite annoying, what with his constant whining about Potter.

She and Draco had very different reasons for their dislike of Harry Potter. Draco was jealous of how much attention he got and Des despised him for what he'd done to the Dark Lord, just as her parents had raised her. She was not taught to feel any other way for the Boy Who Lived (only out of dumb luck, in her opinion) and she wasn't going to change her opinion anytime soon.

She groaned at the opening of the doors, the sound masked by the groaning of the doors themselves, as McGonagall walked in. "I swear, each group of first years is bigger than the last," she mumbled, preparing herself for a long sorting. It eventually ended... and it couldn't have taken more than half an hour but it seemed to drag on longer and longer after each name was called due to Des's hunger and exhaustion. Finally, the opening remarks were made and the food rose from the empty platters in front of them. Des let out a sigh and began to eat, finally filling her stomach after a long, long day.

It was when they were all full and content that a Professor Dumbledore stood to make another announcement. Des sighed. She was full now and all she wanted to do was go up to her dorm, where nobody could bother her, and sleep off the frustrations of the last month. She knew that the house elves warmed the beds before they all went up to their rooms and just imagining herself falling into that warm bed and wrapping herself up in her plush blanket she'd brought from home made her even sleepier. "Announcement," she scoffed, turning in her seat and becoming extremely preoccupied with her nails.

Blah, blah, blah, notices. Blah, blah, blah, Forbidden Forest is off limits. Blah, blah, blah, no Quidditch Cup.

What?

"Shit, wait, Draco, what did he say?" Des said, turning sharply to the younger Malfoy boy.

"There won't be a Quidditch Cup this year," Draco said, looking displeased.

"What? Why?"

"Something about an event during the year starting in October," Draco said, waving it off. Des was about to ask something else when there was a large clap of thunder and the Great Hall doors banged open to reveal a man leaning on a walking stick. He made his way down the aisle between tables, a dull thunk sounding every other step he took. He was grotesque. His face scarred so terribly his own mother probably didn't recognize him. One eye was small but the other was large and moved of its own accord. The whole hall watched as he reached Dumbledore, reaching out a gnarled hand for Dumbledore to reach out and shake before Dumbledore gestured to an empty seat along the professors' table. Des gave the man an uneasy look before Dumbledore gained the attention of the room once more by announcing this man as Professor Moody, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, his announcement being met with silence.

He moved on to a more exciting topic, announcing that the Tri-Wizard Tournament would be taking place at Hogwarts that year and being met with a jeer from the Gryffindor table that caused the entire hall to erupt in laughter, breaking the tension from earlier. The announcement caught Desdemona's attention, looking up as he explained the tournament and what it entailed.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

Death toll?

Desdemona looked over at Draco, who was now sitting upright and paying complete attention to Dumbledore. She looked at Anya a few feet down the table who was most likely gushing with Gemma Farley about the Durmstrang boys. Des looked back to see Draco's face fall at Dumbledore began to explain the age restriction. He went on to explain some other rules about the tournament and she soon lost interest, remembering how exhausted she was. She nearly cheered when Dumbledore dismissed them all and wished them a good night and practically skipped toward the dungeons to prepare for bed. Rest was all she needed.

She was the first girl back to the dorms, the rest opting to catch up in the common room, and that gave her the privacy she needed to change and crawl into bed. It wasn't too long after when Anya came up. Des, in all her stress, had forgotten the two of them even lived in the same dorm. Des was quiet, turned on her side away from Anya as she crawled into the bed next to hers. It was how the two of them became friends... sharing a dorm.

"Des?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about earlier. I should have been more sensitive."

"Yeah, you should have." She knew Anya'd be the first to apologize. It was just how the two of them worked. "It's fine. Whatever."

It might not have sounded like it, but she knew that Anya interpreted that as accepting her apology. If only she could say the same for her parents... but how can an apology be enough with something like that hidden since birth?

Des shook the thought out of her mind, knowing they would have a day full of classes and bullying firsties to get through tomorrow, and fell asleep.