Hi!

I've been busy. I wanted to post an update, and I think / hope that this one's alright but I didn't take as much time over the editing as I should have.

1000x thanks to TheSuprisedSlytherin for their review and favourite (and to the other couple of reviewers that I've had!).

This chapter: the first in a series of odd / interesting developments. Hopefully good, or at least readable.

I can feel myself falling into cliches at times, which is unfortunate. (I guess I'm just in the process of developing as a *writer*.)

I think I'll be able to avoid the worst of them though- as in, hate-turns-to-love-turns-to-OTP-fucking-in-a-broomcloset. And, as of yet, Sophia (OC) hasn't become super hot and irresistible, or started shopping exclusively at Hot Topic while listening to mid-2000s pop-punk.

Congratulations to me.

If you like it or hate it or think that the story is incredibly boring but had nothing better to do than read it, please review. I want to know what people think :)

(Guest reviewing is enabled- you don't even have to log in. (You're welcome.))

Chapter 6

The rest of the lesson passed in relative silence as Draco and I chopped and stirred ingredients, too focused on the success of the potion to talk much. There were several moments when I thought I saw him look towards me and take a deep breath, as if about to speak, but each time I looked up he was engrossed in potion-making.

I had two other lessons that morning; Transfiguration and History of Magic.

History of Magic was one of the most singularly dull classes I have ever had the misfortune of attending. I'd wanted to pay full attention to every subject I was taking (this was, after all, magic school- most likely more useful than A-levels) but after enduring just ten minutes of the Professor's drone I turned my attention away from the goblin wars of the fifth century to focus on what to me was a more pressing concern. The teacher boring me out of my mind was a translucent figure that emitted a silvery-blue light.

I turned to the girl next to me, a tall Ravenclaw with round, thin-framed glasses and an extraordinarily loud voice, wanting to ask if Professor Binns was a ghost, but remembered that this was probably yet another thing I was expected to know. Along with an entire lifetime's worth of knowledge about the wizarding world. I kept quiet, vowing to read 'Hogwarts a History' (one of the books Professor Dumbledore had given me) when I had the time.

Transfiguration, one of the subjects I'd been most excited about studying, was uneventful- we had a lecture on theory, the seriousness of our upcoming exams, and the enormous amount of work that was required to achieve a good grade in transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall seemed to be deliberately avoiding my gaze.

Terry Boot, the Ravenclaw boy that I shared a desk with, spent the entire lesson stealing little glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. Along with the rest of the school, really.

I was meant to have lunch after that, but the morning had been confusing and exhausting enough that I couldn't face another hour of keeping up my act. Wondering how on earth I was going to survive an entire year of this, I slipped away from the crowds of students walking to the Great Hall and made my way back to the Slytherin dungeons.

I walked into the dungeons, ready to shrug off my heavy bag and attempt once again to make some sense of the past week. Making my way up the stairs, I was gratified to finally have some time to myself. Everyone else was off having lunch in the hall, and no one else would be stupid enough to skip lunch for the sake of avoiding their peers.

No one except Pansy, it seemed.

She was sitting on her bed, and when I entered gave a slow, satisfied smile, as if she'd been expecting to see me.

'So. Nagornichna. Tracey told me about your little show in Potions. The whole school's buzzing about it, really.'

She paused, and, giving me another look, nodded to herself.

'It seems that you're more interesting than we'd given you credit for.'

I heard someone enter the room behind me, and turned around to see Daphne standing in the doorway.

'Daphne, Tracey and I think that you could be a useful friend and ally. We'd like to invite you to join our society.'

Daphne nodded.

'Society?'

Daphne smiled and said quietly, but with a sense of significance, 'The Slytherin Society for Exceptional Young Witches.'

'I haven't heard of it.'

Pansy rolled her eyes.

'That's because it's a secret society. I'm the President and Daphne and Tracey are the other members.'

She paused, then launched into what seemed like a prepared speech.

'The way we see it is, we're the cream of wizarding society. We have everything needed for success; intelligence, good looks, rich parents and ruthless ambition. Yet somehow, everyone expects us to get married off and be good little society wives.'

'But we've all got bigger plans,' chimed in Daphne, right on cue, 'So we've vowed to help each other achieve our greatest dreams and ambitions. Together, nothing can hold us back. Not our families, and especially not men.'

'Of course, all of this is secret,' continued Pansy, 'If anyone found us out we'd be sent home or separated at once. Which is why, if you won't join us, we'll be forced to obliviate you.'

Now that I looked, Daphne wasn't just standing by the doorway, she was blocking it.

I felt my throat tighten and my heartbeat rise to a loud pounding in my ears.

Swallowing my fear, I reminded myself that this could actually be exceptionally useful.

After all, I was going to live as Sophia Nagornichna for the rest of my life, and it couldn't hurt to have some of the most powerful pureblood heiresses on my side.

This would also be the perfect opportunity to gather information on the Slytherins for Dumbledore, as I'd been asked to.

'I'd be honoured to join.'

Pansy's beautiful face broke into a satisfied smile, which held more than a hint of smugness.

Her red eyeshadow, which this morning had seemed to smack of restrained elegance, on second glance seemed transformed into something more unruly.

As this girl lounged on her bed in an elegant sprawl of slim limbs, practically purring in satisfaction, her alluring face, framed by a flare of silky black hair, seemed more fox than faery.

I glanced back at Daphne and saw that the girl's previously rigid stance had relaxed. She met my eyes, and walked slowly to stand in front of me.

Pursing her lips, she paused, as if wanting to say something then thinking better of it.

An odd pressure seemed to hum through the room, making the air heavy. I took a breath, suddenly hyper-aware of every part of my body; the way that my arms hung loose by my sides, my knees, one bent in an already habitual effort to make myself look less tall. The way that the air rushed past my lips, cool and feathery, to settle like lead in my lungs.

She looked intently at me, and I was conscious of my own stare in return. Then-

The moment broke.

'Pans, when's Tracy getting here? She's ten minutes late.'

Pansy lay staring at the ceiling above her, as if in contemplation, still frozen in a position that looked random, but I was beginning to suspect was calculated to look a certain way.

Nothing about this girl was accidental.

'Patience, Daphne.'

Daphne rolled her eyes and frowned in an obvious show of annoyance, muttering 'The little idiot. Don't see why we even invited her.'

Pansy didn't seem to hear this comment, and continued to lie immobile, as if cut from marble.

I shifted on my feet, unsure of what I was expected to do. Just as I was about to blurt out some excuse to leave, I heard rapid footsteps enter the room, and Tracey enter the room, practically squealing, a whirlwind of aureate hair and child-like energy.

'Did she say yes? Oh my God, she did, didn't she? I'm so excited!'

After this rapid fire chatter, a tense silence seemed to spread through the room as Pansy took no notice, and Daphne sighed, remarking

'Very clever, Tracey. What if she had said no? You would have just made a huge fucking slip, and we'd have to obliviate her again.'

I watched Tracey's shoulders droop.

'Sorry. I was just excited. And I got carried away,' she said, flatly, before turning back to me, and continuing with barely clearly suppressed glee, 'but you said yes, didn't you! This is great! I was soworried that you'd say no, and then it would just be awkward.'

I smiled weakly at her, unsure of whether I was supposed to entertain her enthusiasm.

Daphne and Tracey both turned to look at Pansy, as she shifted slowly, sitting up to face us.

'This is Sophia's first meeting, so I'll have to go over a few points of procedure.'

'Meetings,' she continued, turning to me, 'take place on Tuesday afternoons, like today, for up to half an hour after lunch. All of us have a free period at this time. Tracey checked your timetable. We discuss any plans or concerns that we have, and what action needs to be taken either within or outside of the school. Does anyone have any topics to raise?'

Daphne nodded, taking on a look of grave seriousness.

'Daphne, you may speak.'

'I think I've discovered the perfect opportunity for revenge on Zabini. I heard-'

Pansy raised one elegant finger, the nail painted a dark red, and Daphne immediately grew silent.

'If you could allow me to explain to our newest member the issue with Zabini.'

Daphne nodded assent.

Pansy leaned slightly towards me, the only one sitting while the rest of us stood, awkward.

'Last year, Daphne was, shall we say... fond of Blaise Zabini,'

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Daphne blush and look down.

'They were an item, until he broke up with her for the trashy and far inferior Felicity Runcorn. This was clearly an unacceptable offence, and since that time we have been looking for a way to punish him.'

I tried not to make a face at the word punish, thinking to myself that this was a little over the top. These girls seemed to be a group of friends, but Pansy was lording over them, and, rather than giving me any significant information, they were just discussing petty revenge schemes.

'Daphne, you may continue.'

'I overheard Zabini talking to his friends after potions, about Sophia. He seems to be interested in her. I think that she should feign interest in him, then humiliate him and break his heart. It could be her initiation task.'

Daphne spoke in a casual tone, as if discussing dinner plans rather than some mad scheme for retribution.

I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to do this. It was foolish and spiteful and - I had no choice.

I stayed silent, unable to express my aversion towards her idea, but unwilling to voice any kind of support.

Tracey stared at her, wide-eyed. Looking incredibly uncomfortable, she blurted out

'That's mean.'

Daphne stared daggers back at her, eyes narrowed, and said

'He deserves it.'

Tracey, looking like she regretted ever speaking up, took a shaky breath and continued,

'But. He's nice. He always helps me with my potions homework.'

Tense silence.

'He dumped me for that slut. Do you call that nice?'

'N-no.'

Pansy stretched, seemingly unaffected by this argument. After a moment's pause, she turned to look at me.

'So, new girl. Will you do it?'

This did seem petty, and mean.

While I didn't know Zabini, I also had nothing against him, and wasn't particularly fond of hurting and manipulating people.

'Do I have to?'

The words came out sounding more whiny than they had in my head, and I tried not to look nervous as I waited for a reply.

'It's your initiation task. Either you do it, or you forget that this ever happened.'

If they delved into my mind to alter my memories, there was a chance that they might see some other memories.

Reluctant as I was to do this, I couldn't afford to have my cover blown.

'I'll do it.'

Tracey gave me a worried look. Daphne, standing on my other side, turned to me with a smile. She moved closer to me, and, nodding, said 'I knew you'd make the right decision.'

Pansy yawned, as if in boredom, and got up to pick up her school bag, which was an ornate satchel of what looked like something between crocodile and lizard skin.

She walked towards the door, saying in parting,

'I have charms in half an hour, and I need to talk to Draco first. Daphne, I trust you'll take care of things.'

Daphne nodded, and looked at me. As she gave me a look of scrutiny, closer than that which I had become accustomed to getting from my classmates, I fought the urge to turn away, or cover my face. She reached out, as if about to touch my face, then dropped her hand back to her side.

'Right,' she said softly, ' let's talk tactics.'