A/N: Many thanks for everyone's very helpful reviews!

Chapter 4: Day One

Nora had arisen early, before any of the other four girls in the room. Her night had been restless, as it always was for her. She usually only had three or so hours of sleep. Half of this was due to her condition, now the other half was plain nerves. She'd pretended to be asleep when the other girls came into their room the night before. She soon wished she had been sleeping, for what they'd said nearly brought her to tears:

"What a rat-nosed wench, I cannot believe she was sorted into Slytherin."

"Did you hear the way she answered Draco? He was only asking about her school!" Nora had recognized Parkinson's voice immediately.

"Oh, I know, I don't think anybody besides Potty mouth has ever spoken to him like that."

"Yeah, and then Draco turned on the charm, did you see how she looked at him?"

"I've already warned her to stay away, the dumpy whore."

"Oh, don't worry, Pansy. Draco only has those eyes for you. If he actually wanted someone like that cow, then you should be looking for someone else anyway."

It went on like thus for several more minutes. Each of them harshly critiquing her looks until Nora was convinced they knew she was awake. After they'd gone to sleep, she'd spent the rest of the night just mulling over her bad luck. Her first attempt at making real friends had once again been quashed and she was stuck with the most rotten students in the school. Yep, sounded just like her usual luck.

When the grandfather clock in the common room gonged twelve times, Nora thought about all that had happened in the past year. Her father's disappearance, the raids, the kids at her old school, and how they stared at her. She was fairly certain they had all known, or at least had an idea. The abruptness in her father's departure during the heat of the raids was enough to stir rumors. Nora sighed thinking of her father once more. Nan had promised he'd kept correspondence with her, but she never showed Nora any letters. As the months passed, she'd gradually come to accept that her father had fled for Russia or the States. He'd talked about visiting both. Nora bit her lip at the other possibility; one she'd fleetingly entertained but refused to believe. She simply couldn't exercise the possibility that he might be...she swallowed tears, unable to even think the word.

When her clock read four, her memories drifted to her summer in India and the one friend she'd made there—Reeza. Reeza was an energetic, untraditional young woman who'd become a big sister to her. Despite having a friend, it was a difficult summer. Usually she'd spend the season with her father in Budapest, where the climate was fair. India, with its unbearable sun and scorching temperatures made everyday-life dreadful.

Six o'clock came too soon and Nora arose before any of the other girls and hit the showers. She would always have to get ready first. She couldn't let anyone see her arms. She hurriedly dressed in her robes, running a brush through her wavy, shoulder-length raven hair. She studied her reflection after she applied mascara and thin lines of eyeliner. She always searched for her mother in her features, wishing she could remember her alive. Her mother's startling, sea-green eyes stared back at her, walnut in shape. She also had her smart little nose and inviting lips. Her smooth, pale skin and black crown of hair came from her father, who had long before crossed over when she'd been conceived. Both of her parents were fit people and had passed on such traits to Nora, which she wasn't happy nor sad about. She always wondered that if she'd been plumper, perhaps people would have treated her better, not like the half-breed she was.

She didn't think she was particularly pretty, though her father had never missed the opportunity to tell her of her beauty. But she knew he was picturing her mother when he looked at her. Nora had once asked Reeza if she thought she, "could ever be pretty." Reeza had dipped her head knowingly, giving her an incredulous glare. Nora had never forgotten what she'd said, "You are not only gorgeous, but have a pair of hips Brittany Spears would kill you for." At the time, Nora hadn't really understood this, Reeza being a Muggle who knew as much about the Wizarding world as Nora knew about the Muggle one. But she assumed it to be a compliment.

Nora nonchalantly slid out of the lavatory when other girls started trickling in, each looking like they could have used an extra hour of sleep. Back in her dorm, Nora gathered the books she'd need for the day. She had Charms with Professor Flitwick and the Hufflepuffs first, then Potions with the Gryffindors, lunch, and History of Magic with Professor Binns (a ghost, apparently). But first, she had a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore at eight o'clock, a half-hour before breakfast.

Nora swung the strap of her black leather messenger bag over her shoulder and darted past a couple girls who glared at her accusingly as she entered the sparsely populated common room and briskly made for the dark corridor out into the hallways. As it turned out, the directions she'd been given by Harry on the train were faulty. That or the walls moved around in this place. Nora started getting exasperated when she'd been looking for fifteen minutes, making it eight o'clock, and she seemed no closer to Dumbledore's office.

She scuttled around corners and jogged down corridors, running into no one. That was until she turned one particular corner and slammed into a tall figure. It was instant déjà vu as she fell on her bum, her Charms book sliding out of her bag and slapping to the cement floor. When she saw the black shoes peeking under black robes, Nora thought for a second that it might have been Mr. Malfoy. But as her gaze traveled up, it didn't land on cold, gray eyes, but black lifeless ones. Professor Snape looked down at her like she was an exceptionally nasty bug that had just bounced off his chest. After a moment, he bent down and Nora gratefully put out her hand, but his went right past her and picked up her Charms book, holding it out.

"I dare say this belongs to you?" He drawled, his greasy black hair framing a small space for his features.

Slightly abashed, Nora picked herself up, hurriedly brushing off her robes and grasped her bag, which decided to turn the wrong way and empty the rest of its contents to the floor. Nora squeaked and sat on her heels to gather the fallen items. Snape stood motionless, her Charms book still in his pale hand.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I'm in a terrible rush," she babbled as she hurriedly stuffed her books into her bag, "I—I have to meet Dumbledore and I've gotten the wrong directions and I'm already ten minutes late, and—you wouldn't happen to know how to get there, would you, sir?" She finished breathlessly.

The look Snape gave her was the same bored expression he had the night before as his eyes had wandered pointlessly about the room. The muscles in his grim face finally worked as he spoke, "Keep down this hall and look for the statue of the gargoyle." He explained it all very dully and through nearly clenched teeth, like her very presence was annoying to him.

Nora nodded, processing the information. "An—and the password?"

He stared at her smugly, distrusting her. "Fizzing Wizbee," he replied, emphasizing each word. For an odd reason, it was amusing to see such a serious person speak such ridiculous words, but Nora merely tightened her lips to hide her smile and nodded her head.

"Right, thank you, Professor," She eyed the book still in his hand, "C—could I possibly..." She let the sentence trail off and motioned to her Charms book. Snape lowered his eyes to the book clutched in his hand. He then looked at her as if it were her fault he had to stand there holding it and he thrust it into her hands. He then breezed past her, his robes billowing behind him.

Nora felt slightly put off by the encounter as she readjusted the strap of her messenger bag. Soon forgetting it, Nora paid attention to the walls, searching for the gargoyle. It didn't take long to find, as it stood out well enough.

"Fizzing Wizbee." She murmured a tad uncertainly. To her pleasure, the statue slid aside to reveal a hidden door, which Nora went through to discover spiral stairs that moved slowly upward. Once at the modest wooden door, Nora knocked, hoping the Headmaster wouldn't be too annoyed by her tardiness. She didn't think she could bear it if she didn't have at least one ally in this school.

Her fears were slightly abated when a friendly voice from other side of the door beckoned her in. Taking a deep breath and running a hand quickly through her hair, Nora took the handle and pushed the door open. Her eyes widened at the size of the office, its walls were circular and covered nearly completely in portraits of past headmasters, all whom looked like they'd just awoken and rubbed their eyes to get a better look at her. Nora regarded them nervously. She didn't expect there to be an audience during her meeting with Dumbledore. Even if they were just pictures, they could visit others...

She turned her attention from the portraits that were now murmuring indistinctly to each other. To describe Dumbledore's office fully would be impossible. Many interesting things were placed smartly around the room, several of the objects completely foreign to her, including delicate silver instruments that emitted puffs of smoke every once and a while and quite a few odd artifacts. Bookshelves were everywhere to see, housing enough volumes to nearly put the library in her old home to shame. The Headmaster's desk sat further forward on clawed feet. A great, beautiful phoenix slept on its perch behind the desk, its head tucked in its feathers. Two comfortable chairs were placed opposite the desk, which Dumbledore sat behind, his hand still holding a quill, as he was doing some sort of work before she came in. He looked up at her, his blue eyes twinkling, the crows feet around those orbs quite prominent as he smiled at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Ah, Miss Kerensky. I take it you got lost?" He stood politely, motioning to the chairs.

Color rose in Nora's cheeks and she bit her lip before dropping heavily into a chair, Dumbledore following her action, albeit much slower.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Professor. The directions I got weren't exactly accurate."

He smiled kindly, putting his work aside. "I'm sure they were quite accurate. But as you'll come to realize, things tend to move about around here."

Nora blinked. That was true?

"Now, did you enjoy you first night at Hogwarts?"

Nora at first was at a loss for words, but forced a quick smile on her face that he would surely detect the phoniness behind. "Oh, Hogwarts is certainly a magnificent place, sir."

"You are not satisfied with your House?" He didn't really pose it as a question, but as a startling fact.

Again, Nora wasn't sure how to answer without insulting this man's school. "W—well, it was not my first choice—"

"You detest Slytherin." Dumbledore said it so casually that Nora nearly missed the seriousness behind the statement.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say I detest it, it's just different—"

"You were hoping for Gryffindor?"

Nora lowered her head. "Sir, I wondered why the hat," and at that moment, she caught sight of it sitting motionless atop a shelf and she paused, "...why the hat decided Slytherin to be the best place for me."

Dumbledore smiled again in understanding, crossing his fingers on the desk. "The hat chose the correct House if you were looking to strengthen your skills to their absolute best. The skills and traits you inherited from your father."

Nora figured so much, but it still didn't seem right. "But, sir, I don't believe I fit into Slytherin very well."

"Socially, no, that would not be the best place for you. But the hat does not place you based on your demeanor. Though it seems quite the coincidence that the students in Slytherin tend to be more...aggressive in nature."

What you mean is nasty, foul, vicious, son of a bi—

"But in this case, I think Slytherin is in fact best for you."

Nora's brutal train of thought came to an abrupt halt as she stared unblinkingly at the Headmaster. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know for many years you were...abused at your old school," Nora hastily looked away and concentrated on the gleaming crimson feathers of the phoenix behind him, "With so many secrets flying about and no answers to what you truly were, I imagine it was quite unbearable." He described the horrendous experience so delicately, she almost wanted to lash out and scream about all the things done to her. But she stayed silent and allowed him to continue. "The time has now come for you to strengthen your defenses. You have a clean slate here, Miss Kerensky. None of the students know a thing of your past. This is a second chance for you. Being subjected to a host of ordeals in Slytherin will serve you well, I think."

Nora didn't argue with him, but internally she was still certain she'd be much happier in Gryffindor. After an uncomfortable pause, Dumbledore went on to explain that all her grades from her previous school had been successfully transferred and her new teachers all said they were eager to have another bright student. Nora had a difficult time imagining Snape saying this though. As Potions was her worst class and she'd had to fight for an "Acceptable" during each course.

"Now we come to the matter of your condition."

A flurry of whispers passed through the portraits around her, but she ignored them. Dumbledore brought an impressive goblet onto the desk, pushing it across to her. "You will have to pass a simple test before I have complete faith in you."

Nora stared at the empty goblet cagily. Dumbledore took a wand from the inside of his robes and lightly touched the rim of the goblet. Thick, smooth blood seemed to grow from the inside of the goblet, rising until he took his wand away. He motioned to it lightly. "Take a taste."

Nora glanced at his unperturbed face warily. "H—how would I fail the test, sir?"

"You'll be unable to stop."

Internally, Nora's uncertainty deflated. Was that all? She gingerly took the goblet in both hands, bringing the rim to her lips. It had been several years since she was allowed to Drink, she wasn't exactly sure what to expect. She took a careful sip and immediately her taste buds awoke and buzzed with ecstasy. Taking a gulp, she inwardly relished in the feeling of the smooth, warm nectar sliding down her throat. Her closed eyes were the only indication of her satisfaction. Not wanting to fail the test, she reluctantly pulled the goblet away, replacing it on the desktop. She could feel the warmth of it on her upper lip and she delicately licked it away, savoring the last taste of it on her tongue. Nora came back to reality when the taste was gone, now almost afraid to look at Dumbledore, uncertain if he knew how enjoyable it was for her.

But he had gotten out his wand and again tapped the goblet, the remaining blood soaking into the sides of the goblet. Another tap and the cup vanished. He looked to her and smiled genuinely. "Just as I thought. Now, the issue with sunlight?"

Nora breathed a little sigh of relief. "I'm all right as long as I'm not in the strongest, direct light. I don't melt, but I tend to get nasty hives and sometimes boils. Midday is the worst."

"Of course. Your only outdoor classes will be Care of Magical Creatures, which will be..." Dumbledore consulted some papers off to the side, "in the later afternoons of Tuesday and Thursday, and Herbology is typically in the greenhouse."

"That will be fine, thank you. Professor, does the rest of the faculty know about, well, as you put it, my condition?"

Dumbledore readjusted his spectacles on his long crooked nose, giving a barely audible sigh. "I thought it best to leave out that detail. I trust all of my teachers explicitly, but it is no secret that those of your kind tend to make people...uncomfortable," Nora marveled at his tactful tone, "I did not think you would want to be treated any differently than the other students."

Nora hurriedly shook her head. "No, sir, I mean yes sir, I would like to be treated the same as everyone else."

His mouth stretched into a grandfatherly smile as he stood, triggering Nora to stand as well. "Now then, I hear the house elves have prepared a special batch of cheese blintzes. Wouldn't want to miss out, I assure you."

At the mention of food, Nora's stomach gave an involuntary growl as if agreeing with Dumbledore. The blood had served to only warm her gut pleasantly for the moment, since it was such a small amount. But now breakfast sounded most splendid, despite the company she'd have. Nora reached across the desk and shook Dumbledore's hand. "Thank you, Professor, for everything."

Breakfast was a morose affair. She had indeed missed the blintzes and there was only some cold eggs and overcooked bacon left. Half of the students had already left, as all classes started promptly at nine, which gave Nora ten minutes to eat her pathetic repast and gulp down a cup of lukewarm tea. No one said anything to her; even Malfoy ignored her completely as Pansy paid an extra amount of attention to him. Nora couldn't help but be grateful for this. She found she could only take small doses of Slytherin attitude a day.

After hurrying through breakfast, Nora gathered her bags and followed the fifth year Slytherins to Charms. Professor Flitwick proved to be an entertaining teacher, at least to her. He was a delightful little man (indeed little, he had to stand on a stack of books) though a bit nervous in demeanor. They were to practice Summoning charms, as their O.W.L.s were bound to test them on this. Most of the students groaned at the overload in homework he instructed, but Nora was too pleased with her first class to be bogged down by the thought of staying up late to complete her assignments.

But unfortunately, it took only one class to quell Nora's newfound bliss. The fact that Potions was in a dungeon was enough to make her nervous. She was willing to put aside the fact that Professor Snape seemed a tad moody. She'd been hoping he simply wasn't a morning person and the dark mood he'd been in that morning was temporary. She could not have been more wrong. If possible, his mood had spiraled into something terribly worse.

Nora was the first to get to class, right when the previous students were leaving. She maneuvered through a pack of pale-stricken first years who exited the classroom looking like they'd been forced to swallow a can of worms. Some of them jumped upon seeing her, simply because she herself was pale, raven-haired, and wearing dark robes, not completely unlike the professor. At the time, Nora couldn't understand why everyone disliked Snape. He wasn't the friendliest of people by no means, but quiet, and that was what she'd expected upon having that first class.

Nora caught the closing door of the classroom as the last of the students scurried out and she entered swiftly. She was immediately assaulted with the smell of spices and something sour—undoubtedly a student's potion gone-wrong. Professor Snape stood at his desk, his back to her as he gathered vials with samples of potions from the last class. Nora wasn't sure if she should say anything, so she simply sat down in the last row, putting her bag on her lap. The scraping of her chair on the stone floor alerted Snape that there was someone else in the room and his head turned to her sharply. She offered a brief smile of greeting.

"Good morning, Professor."

His eyes flickered to the clock high on the wall. There was still ten minutes left until the next class, obviously he was wondering why she was here early. He continued placing the vials on a shelf behind his desk. "Are you unable to tell time, Miss..."

"Kerensky," she said uncertainly, "And yes I can, but company was lacking."

He raised a dark eyebrow cynically. "And you expected to converse with me?" He retorted dryly.

Nora looked away. Indeed she'd been interested in what the infamous Potions Master would be like, also since he was her Head of House she thought it prudent to at least try and get to know him.

"I had nothing to do, sir—I didn't think you'd mind an early student."

"Do not ever...assume what I may or may not think, Miss Kerensky." He replied softly.

Nora wasn't wholly sure how to answer this so she bowed her head and wrestled her potions textbook from her bag, trying to appear completely unruffled by his comment. Once that was done, Nora found herself twiddling her thumbs. She glanced at the clock. Precisely three minutes had passed. From what she'd heard, students avoided Potions until the very last minute. That meant approximately 6 more long minutes alone with this man. She shifted in her seat, the chair eliciting a loud creak. Snape slowly looked up from the papers he'd had his head bent over, directing his gaze at her. She offered a tight, close-lipped smile in apology. Snape sighed sharply, returning his attention to his papers.

Before she could really stop herself, she spoke. Not an uncommon trait in her. "So I eventually did find Professor Dumbledore's office," She mentioned casually.

If Snape had his wand at the ready, based on his expression, Nora could have been certain that he was putting a silent hex on her in that moment. "Your intellect is truly astounding." He retorted, giving her a sneer almost worthy of Mr. Malfoy's.

Nora clamped her mouth shut, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. She hurriedly read the clock. Only sixty seconds had passed? She supposed she could simply content herself with reading the first chapter of her textbook and waiting out the next five minutes. She tried this for barely a minute, but her thoughts strayed and she bit her lip, looking to Snape again, whose greasy black hair had fallen into his face as he read his papers. She wanted to kick herself, but she spoke again, ignoring the voice in her head.

"Professor Snape?"

It was becoming obvious that Snape was not an overly expressive person, so his physical nature usually gave away his feelings. For at that moment, his hand that rested on the desktop clenched savagely as he again slowly lifted his head, his black eyes looking murderous. He didn't answer her, so Nora continued with her question.

"I was wondering. Since you're my Head of House now, and I'm new to Slytherin, is there anything important I should know? You know, any little pep talk you give your students?"

"Only, Miss Kerensky," He said in a harsh, dangerous tone, "that when your mouth eventually meets your brain, perhaps then you can consider yourself a true Slytherin."

Normally, this would have affronted Nora, but she saw other insinuations in the insult. "You don't think I'm meant for Slytherin either." She said this just loud enough for him to hear her. But Snape didn't have a chance to reply, as the dungeon door opened and the rest of the fifth years filed in. Nora spotted Harry and Ron as they also sat in the very back row on the opposite side. She smiled at them in greeting and watched amused as the tips of Ron's ears turned a delicate shade of crimson as he smiled back. Harry nodded at her solemnly, offering a tight smile. Nora didn't even see Hermione at first, who sat on the farthest end of the desk with Ron and Harry. She didn't look at Nora.

When the bell rang, the last two spaces to sit were next to Nora. The tardy Slytherins that came running in at the last minute gave displeased grunts as they sat down next to her.

"Settle down. Quiet!" Snape ordered as he closed the classroom door, though everyone had shut their traps at his first word. He reached his desk, turning swiftly as he leaned against it and surveyed the students suspiciously. He went on to explain the great necessity at studying Potions with particular vigor this year, as their O.W.L.s were bound to challenge them greatly. Soon, after a few more of his depressing notes, the lesson began. That day they mixed the Draught of Peace. Nora inwardly groaned when, with a flick of Snape's wand, a complicated list of ingredients and procedure for the potion appeared on the blackboard. Her stomach gave another involuntary lurch when she remembered that all her new teachers would have seen her previous grades, meaning Snape knew how badly she usually did in Potions. Nora bit her lip as she went to the cabinets to collect the first ingredients. She almost had a newfound eagerness to prove herself.

Almost.

Nora thought she was doing everything correctly until, with five minutes left to go, her caldron started to bubble more than was necessary, almost reaching the brim before she stopped the flame burning beneath it and used a cooling charm. When the potion finally simmered down it had turned a dark, murky green. Snape had called time and started his examination of each student's potion. Only about a fourth of them had the correct silver vapor rising delicately from their caldron, Hermione included. Nora took the precious time before Snape could reach her to skim over the directions again, trying to see what she skipped. She heard snickering from the Slytherins as Snape taunted Harry and his mess of a potion that was emitting a steady stream of black mist. Nora shook her head as she quickly read the last of the ingredients and method on the blackboard. She'd done everything so carefully, what had happened?

"Miss Kerensky, what a waste of precious ingredients," Nora jumped. Snape stood behind her, towering above her as he looked over her shoulder into the caldron. Nora felt her skin crawl at the man being so close, "Then again I did not expect much more from you."

Nora clenched her jaw as Snape moved away to the front of the class. The moment he left, the two Slytherin boys next to her snorted and stifled laughter. She glared at them pointedly, and then her expression dropped in horror as they held up the small, corked bottle of Essence of Occamy. They smirked knowingly and it took a great willpower for her to not take her potion and dump it on their heads. She indeed had done her potion correctly, until the two sneering bastards beside her had contaminated it when she wasn't looking.

"Fill one flagon with a sample, label your name on it and leave it at my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its use in potion-making due on Thursday."

Once Nora placed her useless potion sample on Snape's desk, she hurried back to her caldron, gathering her books quickly and ignoring the snickering of the two Slytherin boys. She was one of the first out of the class and climbing the dungeon stairs. So irritated by the incident, she didn't even register someone calling her name until she felt a nudge at her shoulder. She turned in the surprise to see Harry, his expression matching what she felt on the inside.

"Hey, I heard what Snape said to you," Harry said sympathetically, "Just wanted to tell you not to take it personally. He's a bastard to everybody."

Despite the shame and anger flowing through her veins at that very moment, she forced a small smile in thanks, "I heard what he said to you too. You didn't deserve that," She turned her eyes from him to the classroom door, "It was just such a damned complicated potion."

"Yeah, Snape's fond of those," Harry spat, obviously recalling his past memories with spite, "What have you got after lunch?" He questioned brightly.

"Ah, History of Magic, then I've gotta hit the library and start on Snape's essay and Flitwick's homework—"

"Harry, ready for lunch?" Ron's fire-red head appeared next to Harry, Hermione behind him, her head bent as she shoved a quill into her bag, though Nora was sure it was just something to avoid her again. Harry nodded distractedly, giving Nora another comforting smile before turning to go. Ron grinned lopsidedly at her, his cheeks momentarily matching his hair as he walked away, Hermione giving stealthy shoves at his back.

Nora started up the stairs again, but slowly, a few stragglers whipping past her. When she finally reached the first floor, she realized she was quite alone, the students ahead of her racing around the corner in a rush to lunch. Nora sighed, clutching her bag to her. In the back of her mind, a prickling sensation told her she was not as alone as she thought. Ignoring the warning, Nora continued on, her footsteps echoing as they slapped against the stone floor. Another red flag sprang up in her head as she turned the corner, one she hadn't felt since being at her old school. Out of nowhere, a pale hand shot out, grabbing her robes with frightening strength. Her first impulse was to scream, but her assailant predicted this and a clean hand clamped over her mouth as she was shoved against the wall, her attacker slamming his arm across her chest to make sure she wouldn't move. Nora shook hysterically, so many memories flooding back to her as she finally looked into his face, her eyes widening when she realized it was Malfoy holding her in his grip. His straight, white teeth were bared in rage and he breathed with as much rapidity as she.

"I...told you not to speak with him." He growled.

Nora whimpered against his hand. It would be so easy. So simple to fling him off her. But he couldn't know.

"I told you." He spat.

Nora, confused and frightened, shot wild glances in every direction. Surely there had to be someone close.

"This is your second warning, Kerensky. The next one you won't forget so easily." And his arm pushed her a little tighter against the wall. He was obviously looking for some sort of reply, even though his hand was still firmly planted over her mouth. So Nora tensely shook her head. A smile played along his lips for a moment before dropping and his head spun to the other side of the corridor where she came from. Nora heard the footsteps for a split second before her world turned upside down. For in a flurry of motion, Malfoy took his hands away and instead wrapped one behind her neck and the other around her waist before planting his mouth on hers. Nora could only register shock at that moment before he became more insistent, obviously wanting her to respond. In a moment she knew why. Snape came around the corner, halting upon seeing them. Malfoy let it go on for another second before "seeing" Snape out of the corner of his eye. He leapt away from Nora, his face one of fake surprise at seeing their teacher. Nora didn't have to conjure surprise on her features.

Snape glared at the two of them, his black eyes traveling from one to the other. "This is neither the place nor the time for that," he hissed, "To lunch, both of you."

A ghost of a smile fluttered on Malfoy's lips before he grabbed Nora's hand and made her run with him the whole way to the Great Hall. When they reached the doors, both were panting, having traveled a couple of floors to get there. Nora wrenched her hand from his, itching to slap him. He turned to her and his finger gently caressed her jaw line before Nora yanked that away too.

"Don't forget." He warned, and he slipped into the Hall.

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