Chapter 6—Slugs and Slags

JK ROWLING OWNS ALL—ANYTHING YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE IS MINE

Over the past few years, I had lost the ability to wake up with the sun—something that was a habit when I was younger. I was now doomed sleeping until the sun was directly in the sky—damn the biological stage of my body. That changed when I received the Mark. Either, it had thrown me back into the mentality of a child or flung me ahead to the maturity of an adult. Either way, I was back to rising with the sun—before it even.

Everything was calm. I felt calm because I wasn't in a hurry to pack my trunk and get to King's Cross Station on time. I guessed I had also woken up earlier based on my anxiety for the first day of school. I hadn't felt nervous for the year when we had gotten our supply lists, no shiny prefect badges peeking out from the envelope made me feel even more relaxed and a little depressed. I knew I had no reason to expect to be made prefect, I was about as anonymous as any Slytherin came. Archana and I weren't the big talk like Malfoy and our brother were. My grade of Slytherins was relatively muted compared to others.

The only problem I was facing was what to wear to the train station. Even as a Death Eater, I was still a teenage girl and needed something that I felt proud to wear. Image was important for a Slytherin. So was vanity.

Eventually, I settled for a sleeveless black robe dress with a sheer, tea length skirt. I attempted to wrangle my hair into a low bun and eventually gave up, letting it run wild in the humidity. Hogwarts weather was much milder and my hair would be tamer.

I stared at my reflection more closely, wincing at the roundness of my cheeks. I'd thought I was eating less, but in actuality, I was probably eating a little more than normally—which warranted as a lot. I had never been a dainty eater.

For the past month of getting the Dark Mark, I had been waiting for some inevitable change to occur. Whether it's an overwhelming epiphany or even a little boost in confidence, something positive would've been nice.

But no, life could only get harder for me, not easier. Instead, I dealt with constant pains in my left arm, causing me to have to teach myself to use my wand with the other hand. Mirroring the movements for spells and directing the direction of the wand were not spectacularly easy.

Scowling, I suddenly realized I couldn't wear the dress—no sleeves. But, I was not not going to wear it. This was the best thing I could find for the occasion. If I wore any shade of red or even a color close to it, there was a chance I would be mocked by fifth year Slytherins for being such a Gryffindor. Same went for shades of purple and yellow. Wearing green was just pathetic and predictable. I was tired of being stomped on by the little Slytheriness prats—namely a few I shared a dorm with.

It was despicable. Every single year in Slytherin had a handful of insufferable girls that managed to terrorize the entire school every single year. They monopolized everything. They were like a cult—how ironic, since in a sense, I was in one.

"Screw them," I huffed. With my left arm, I grabbed a tiny and meaningless silver jewelry box from my vanity top. I held it out on my palm and closed my eyes, focusing sharply. I sucked in a deep breath and picture what I was trying to transfigure. I said the right spell and did the seemingly right movements, trying to remember it was opposite of what I was used to.

There was a slight sting from the Mark, but was pleasantly surprised when I opened my eyes. Sitting on my palm, hanging off the sides, was a heavy silver cuff with snake-like patterns carved into it—how appropriate. It should stay transfigured for at least twelve hours—more than enough time to change into my uniform.

It was long, covering nearly my entire forearm, but it did what it was supposed to do. I contemplated adding a matching one on the other side but that seemed too…warrior for me. I only hoped no one noticed how I normally wore my jewelry on my right arm, not my left. And as long as I stayed away from a few certain Gryffindors, I would be fine.

The next few hours I spent obsessively checking the cuff, making sure the Mark was completely tucked under it and tossing random odds and ends in my trunk. I'm sure most of them were things I would never use. That was what happened when I had too much time on my hands.

Eventually, I got bored of what I was doing and moved to the door next to mine on the left. I pulled it open and saw my sister fumbling around, half awake. She was still wearing her pajamas, but I caught a glimpse of her Mark when she put her hands above her to grab something from a shelf.

"Ready to go back to school?" I asked, staring around her messy room. She was normally organized.

She turned around with a snarl on her face and made a low rumble in her chest, like a growl. I put my hands up in defense, smirking while I did it. "I forgot you weren't a morning person." I chuckled a few times after that.

She turned around and chucked a pillow at me, hitting my face. "Hopefully you'll remember now." She went back to throwing things haphazardly into her trunk. I watched her impassively.

"If you're going to stand there, you might as well do something useful—like helping me pack." I shrugged and started grabbing a pile of clothes on her bed and stuffing it into the trunk.

"Why didn't you pack last night? Don't you normally do that?"

She moved frizzy hair out of her face and glared at me with bloodshot eyes. "I haven't been up to it. Do I look like I'm even capable of packing my trunk right now?" I froze at her words. This was beyond a mere dislike for the early hours of the day.

"Your Mark's been bothering you, hasn't it? I thought you were getting better. I saw you do some spells. They looked pretty powerful to me." I said it with a splash of jealousy and a hint of worry.

Archana continued to glare at me. "I feel a little under the weather—that's all. At least I didn't ever cry about it. And at least I can still do spells." She wasn't trying to sound taunting. She was just trying to reassure herself…at my expense. Her jab—whether unintentional or not—did sting. I blamed the Mark.

"It's not good for us." I sounded grave, but shrugged noncommittally. I didn't know who I was planning on fooling.

"It can be if we just accept it. I think that's why I'm feeling like this, because I'm fighting it." She sounded like she just had a revelation.

Her foggy looking gaze snapped towards my face, then the silver cuff. "I don't know what you're doing to yourself, Liora, but it's got to stop. You're really damaging yourself. It's dangerous." That wasn't the first time I'd heard her say that.

I scoffed. "You want to talk about dangerous?" I pointed at my arm and then hers.

Aggravated, Archana threw a shoe against the ground and curled her fingers into fists. I had never gotten scared when she was angry, but I was a smidge terrified. And she rarely got this angry.

"Like it or not sis, but we're stuck with these! They're part of us now, so treat it like its part of you."

"Even if I made an oath, I never agreed to this. I don't want this," I muttered.

Archana gripped my shoulders tightly. "Look." She lowered her voice a great deal after she said that. "I'm not thrilled about being a Death Eater—hating it, actually. But¸ it's too late now. I figure I may as well embrace it." She let go of my shoulders and moved towards her wardrobe.

Inside it, she grabbed a willowy top and a navy pencil skirt—one of the only types of Muggle resembling clothing we were allowed to have. We could, because my parents were more lax about blood status—believe it or not. Or at least Danton was, surprisingly.

Archana went into her bathroom and came back out, dressed. She searched around for her black kitten heels. I stared at her sheer, see through sleeves.

"Your Mark is showing." I indicated her arm.

"I know," she replied.

"What? You want me to conjure up a matching bracelet for you?" She gave my arm a quick peek and scoffed.

"No thanks. I'm good."

"Are you wearing something over that?" I asked, starting to sound desperate.

"Nope."

"Archana, you can't go around flashing that to people."

Haughtily, she raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm proud to be a Death Eater." I glanced back at her bathroom in confusion, wondering if this was my sister's evil twin who suddenly was excited about being a Death Eater.

"Right. Well, you may be, but the rest of the wizarding world won't agree. You'll be thrown in Azkaban before you even step one foot on the train. And probably the rest of our family as well."

"I don't care."

I realized I had to appeal to her in a way she would accept. "How are you supposed to serve the Dark Lord if you're locked up in Azkaban? I know Slytherins aren't the most enjoyable bunch, but they're sure as hell a lot more pleasant than a horde of dementors."

She finally gave in and replaced the shirt with a long sleeved blouse, which she buttoned up to the collar—it looked too stuffy and uncomfortable. Still, I nodded, smiling lightly.

I sat on top of her trunk while she tried to close it. "You know, most of the Slytherins are complete Pureblood jokes. I say, if you're not serving the Dark Lord, you should be considered a Blood Traitor. It should be more than just being in Slytherin."

"What about Astoria and the rest of the Greengrass'?" I asked. They weren't involved in Voldemort's affairs as far as I knew and she was good friends with Astoria.

"Their mother, Camilla Greengrass, works at the Ministry. She's like Mum. Helping spread the Dark Lord's word from inside. I do prefer if their father was a Death Eater, though." I didn't know how valid that was, so I wouldn't mention that to anyone.

"Okay…" I didn't know what to say to her.

"You're actually speechless for once. Wow. I didn't know you had the ability to shut up," she joked, but I could tell she was slightly serious.

"What is your problem today?" I hissed at her.

"You."

I could think of a million and one reasons of why she would be angry with me, but none of them jumped out as being pertinent at the second. "You want to clarify why?"

"Because," she began in a clipped tone. She sat down on her bed and crossed her leg over the other. "You have somehow managed find a special audience with the Dark Lord. I don't know why he decided you of all people was worthier than the rest of us. So tell me, what makes you so special?"

"That's why you're mad?" After that incident, Archana hadn't brought it up at all. Lazzaro was the one that complained about it constantly.

"Why did you get to meet with him? In the middle of the night, too! What could've been so important that it was only you? I can tell you, you're probably the least worthy out of all of us—"

I pushed myself off her trunk and paced around a few times, feeling hot and sweaty suddenly. She didn't know anything, acting like she did. She was so wound up about it, she was making me angry. I eventually yelled at her to shut up.

"Alright! That's exactly why I met with him. Because I'm 'unworthy' of being a Death Eater. This is my only chance, Archana! Same goes for Malfoy and Hallenzing. And it's all because we showed weakness while we were being branded. I didn't mean to collapse on the ground, but because of that, I have a task to carry out. And if I don't, he'll kill me."

I was expecting a stronger reaction from Archana, like concern for my safety, but instead, she said "oh" in a small, contemplative voice.

That's it! I thought. That's all you're going to say?!

"And what exactly does this chance mean? What do you have to do?"

"He gave the three of us each a task to complete during the year." I sounded eerily calm.

She nodded. "Do Mum and Dad know what your task is?"

I nodded.

"What did they say about it?"

"Of course they weren't excited, but they knew I had no choice."

"Oh. Does Lazzaro know?"

I shook my head. "No, but he's been trying to get me to tell him."

She looked coyly at me. "Would you tell me?"

Previously to her coming out of the bathroom, I would've told that Archana. Not this tryingly, concerningly flippant and slightly evil Archana. I knew she was trying to mask the pain, and she was doing it extraordinarily well. As in extraordinary, I mean terrifying.

I shook my head slowly. "I don't want anyone to jeopardize it."

Looking shocked, Archana followed that look with a mean stare. She was determined to find out what I was supposed to do. "I don't think you have to worry about me screwing it up. Still. I don't understand why he gave this task to you. Obviously you have a higher chance of screwing it up—whatever it is."

I thought about my surprisingly civil encounter with Ginny Weasley. She had been cordial enough to acknowledge my existence without repulsion. Perhaps befriending her would be easier than I thought. Yet, I'd heard stories of a combination of her temper and her bat-bogey hexes. Apparently she'd put people in the hospital. I knew compared to the Dark Lord, she was a speck, but compared to me, she was probably more powerful than I was, especially the state I was currently in. However, if I did my job correctly, I could get her before she got me.

But, I didn't actually have to kill her, did I? Voldemort said I could if I wanted. Eventually, he would probably command me to do so.

"I think I can handle it. But, thanks for the support, Archana."

I looked up to see her scrutinizing me. "I can tell by the look on your face you don't think you can do this. And you don't want to do it. Liora…I could do it for you." She wanted to win favor with the Dark Lord. This was my only chance to prove that I was worth keeping alive.

"My life depends on this. You obviously don't care about that if you want to take this chance away from me."

She tried to look sympathetic, but she just looked cold. It was a feeble attempt. She drew her eyebrows together slightly and puckered her lips out a little bit, dragging down the corners of her mouth, too. She made her eyes really wide and blinked them rapidly. "Liora, I'm sorry. I just want to be in the Dark Lord's good graces. Of course I care about you. You're my big sister. I love you. But, you know now that being a Death Eater has to be put above everything.

"I'm not saying that I want you to die. And if you did, of course I would be sad, but I can't let my grief get in the way of my duty."

This was worse than when Lazzaro threatened to use an Unforgivable on me. Archana was talking to me as if I was already dead. She essentially said she wouldn't care if I died.

I clenched my jaw tightly after capturing a sob bubbling in my chest. I couldn't do anything about the tears, so I would be brief. "Blood only runs so thick for you, I guess."

Archana looked appalled. "Are you suggesting I don't care about blood status?"

"Does that fact that we're a family mean anything to you?"

"Yes, Liora, but—"

"What is happening to you, Archana?" I demanded.

She actually looked genuinely sorry after I said that. "I'm just doing my job, Liora. You should do the same."

"No. You're just evil," I countered harshly and breathlessly.

Steeling her face, Archana stood up from her bed abruptly and moved in front of me. "If that's what it takes to be a good Death Eater, then so be it. And you wonder why I'm talking about you like you're already dead. Keep acting like this, and you'll be dead by the end of your fifth year. Maybe before you even get to take your OWLs."

I slammed the door loudly on my way out and nearly splintered mine when I shut it with a furious flick of the wand.

I didn't take off the cuff but I glared at the Mark underneath it. Before when I said it was ruining us, I didn't think it could possibly get any worse than this. Both of my siblings were succumbing to the evil reality of being a Death Eater. Yet, I was still fighting it. We had all been raised the same way, believing in blood status and Slytherin. However, our parents had never openly advocated supporting Voldemort to us. I knew they did to the rest of the public, but not privately. Maybe that was what set me aside from my siblings. Knowing my parents only supported Voldemort because it was the easiest thing to do was probably the reason I was rebelling against being a Death Eater.


My father and I stood under the barbaric stained glass window in the entrance. Thankfully, Sable had taken Archana and Lazzaro already. Danton had said he wanted to discuss my mission. As much as I didn't want to talk about that, I was glad to be away from my siblings who were slowly turning insane.

"You have everything you need?"

I nodded, still angry at Archana. I was hurt before, but now I was reveling in what an impressionable idiot she was.

He glanced at me skeptically. I don't know why, though. I obviously had enough. Scraps of parchment and fabric of clothing were peeking out from the edges of my trunk. After I had talk to Archana, I intentionally messed up everything that I had taken the abnormal amount of time to fold. I did it out of pure spite.

"Are you sure? It seems hard to tell with all of those bits sticking out the sides…"

"It's fine," I said through gritted teeth. I tried to keep my voice respectful, but I was slowly losing respect for Danton just for being a Death Eater. He was able to remain somewhat more sane—or insane on a socially acceptable level—than my siblings. They were dragging themselves down to a new low. I wondered if they secretly had meetings to plot against me. Ever since I had been summoned by the Dark Lord, the two had been giving me covert glares and talked to me in jealous tones.

If I wasn't such a coward, I gladly would've given them my task. I was now bashing myself of how I thought I was going to stop Malfoy and Hallenzing from killing a total of four people collectively. I still had to at least try and somehow lure Ginny Weasley into being my friend. All while being a deceiving double agent. This really was the most idiotic thing I was ever going to do.

"Are you ready to complete your task? You know what you have to do. It's simply a matter of executing it in the right way. Where were you planning on talking to her privately?"

I sighed. I had been thinking about this quite a bit. "Well, we're bound to have some classes together. But as you know, a Slytherin having a polite conversation with a Gryffindor is unheard of." I bit the words with sarcasm. "I don't really know if she goes to the library often. I suppose I could try and find her wandering around the corridors. I don't know if she made prefect or not, but I could find out easily."

My father looked unimpressed. "You're going to have to do better than that, Liora."

"What? I could casually run into her in Hogsmeade and strike up a conversation…or not." He shook his head at me.

"I wouldn't befriend her right away, Liora. I would wait a few weeks—maybe even a few months to approach her. You need to watch her, focus on what she does, who she talks to, where she spends her time."

"So you basically want me to stalk her," I deadpanned.

"If you want to put it in those terms—yes."

"I don't know about you, but I don't think that's the best way to make friends."

"Watch yourself. Just remember, you're ultimate goal is to get close to Potter. You don't actually have to become friends with her."

"If I want to earn her trust, I think I do. There is one thing I know I can possibly do."

"What's that?" Danton still looked doubtful. Just wait until he heard what I had to say.

"I've heard Ginny Weasley is fond of Quidditch—that she's quite good actually. Her three older brothers all played on the Gryffindor team." That didn't mean they were all actually skilled. The twins were firly decent, but I would hardly classify Ron Weasley as mediocre. That was being generous.

"And?"

"I have a good reason to believe she may try-out for the team this year. It would only make sense—especially since a good majority of their team graduated last term. There are going to be plenty of open spaces. If Ginny does try out, she's almost guaranteed a spot on the team."

"What does this have to do with you?" My father had a vague notion of what I was going to say.

"Slytherin also lost a few members this year when they graduated. That means there are open spots. Try-outs."

"You're going to try out for the Quidditch team?"

I shrugged. "Look, this was the best way to talk to her I could think of."

"Your reasoning and knowledge is astute, but Gryffindor and Slytherin playing is a bloodbath. If you do make it onto the team, you're never going to get a chance to talk to her. Other than shouting insults at the other team."

"Well, do you think I have a shot of making it onto the team?" I wasn't that worst on a broom—I was average. I didn't have a fear of heights, which helped. I did have a fear of falling, though.

"You can fly a broom well enough. I don't know about you actually handling the quaffles, bludgers, and the snitch." I was a klutz and my hand-eye coordination was lacking. My reflexes weren't terrible.

"It wouldn't hurt to try. If not, I could make it onto the reserves team, then."

"Okay…if you think this is the best way to do it. It's your task, not mine. Just one thing."

"Hmm?" I asked absentmindedly, figuring out which spot I would be the best at. I mean the least horrible at.

"Lazzaro is going to bite your head off for trying out for the team."

"He's not the captain and he can't prevent me from trying out. He's just scared that Archana or I would be secretly better than him. He doesn't want us upstaging or embarrassing him. I think the only thing he has to worry about is being embarrassed by association due to my lack of skills."

He chuckled slightly and gripped one of the handles of my trunk. "That's the spirit. Torment your siblings while you're at it." He was joking, but I took those words to heart. If they were going to make me miserable, why not make them miserable back?


I knew Archana would've expected me to put on a wounded, defensive front when I greeted them at the train station. I didn't. I made sure to be extra kind to Archana, slinging my arm around her shoulder and even giving her a peck on the cheek. She smiled at me with gritted teeth. I smiled back, toothily. If she was going to shift how she treated me, I was going to have to shift how I responded back. Being classically irritating seemed like the best way to go.

I then turned to Lazzaro, walking at him with open arms. "Lazzaro, my favorite big brother in the whole wide world. Give me a hug in front of the entire train station and all your friends and classmates. This is the last time we'll be able to stand next to each other without you trying to deny my existence as your little sister." I managed to wrap my arms around his waist as he tried to pry out of my grip.

"Mother get her off of me," he hissed sharply, trying not to physically hurt me in public.

I felt a small spark of electricity jolt through me as I was pushed back several feet so I stood away from Lazzaro. Sable had her wand out and pointed at me, irritably. "Act mature," she reprimanded. Once they stop acting evil.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I'm just preparing myself for my task." I lowered my voice into an exaggerated whisper. The tone was gaudy and forced.

"Subtlety, Liora. Be subtle." She stared pointedly at the silver cuff. I had been the one to tell Archana the same thing earlier.

"Not my style."

Sable grabbed my arm as I tried to walk away. She lowered her face to my ear. "Well, it better be, because if you keep flaunting the Mark like that, you will not have a pleasant time. You would not be able to survive Azkaban, Liora." I almost bumped her nose when I turned to look at her in shock. The conviction in her words lingered.

"Sorry."

"Now, be smart about this. You know what you're supposed to do. Keep your wits about you. And remember: you're in Slytherin for a reason. Be cunning and swift. Show no mercy." She then pecked the top of my head and wrapped her arms around me tightly. I hugged her back.

"I love you Liora, and promise me you'll keep yourself safe.

I nodded and moved back as she released me.

Sable gave similar, quicker hugs and kisses to Lazzaro and Archana.

As the train whistle blew, I gripped my trunk tightly and gave one last look around the platform. This would be the back door of my innocence, I believed. As soon as I arrived at Hogwarts, I would be a Death Eater on a mission. Somehow, I would need to balance being a student and being an appendage of the Dark Lord.

I didn't understand how Sable expected me to be safe.


"What a bloody maggot he was. I swore I'd never date another boy again—at least until my husband." Fellow Slytherin fifth year and dormmate, Odessa Bronstead was uncharacteristically draped across my lap and the remainder of the bench, moaning to herself about a cheating, Scandinavian wizard she'd had an affair with this summer. "He was a no-good Half Blood on top of that."

I glared down at her.

"Oh come off it. You're mother was a Half Blood—you're not." It was true. I was considered a Pureblood, but I was more of a Three Quarter Blood—that wasn't actually a term.

Back to the foreign wizard. Odessa had gone to Norway with her parents and "fallen in love" with a Nordic wizard. They eloped several times in the course of two months, only to have it end with Odessa finding out he was engaged to a blonde haired, blue eyed half-Veela.

Now, Odessa was a dark type of beauty—Italian complexion and hooded, dark eyes and thick, straight hair—with a willowy figure, but she had no chance in competing with a Veela.

My other only bearable dormmate was Cilla Selwyn—the however many removed cousin of the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour and descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She had hailed from one of the wealthiest and most ancient families, Selwyn. Her father was a high-ranking Death Eater—even higher than my father.

Cilla was quiet and had plain, monotonous looks. She didn't make her opinion known very often, her last name speaking louder than any of her words ever would. The one fact she had stated rather harshly was the zero relation between herself and Dolores Umbridge, after a rumor had floated around the school.

The final member in our compartment was William "Will" Harper. He preferred our company to the boys in our year, mainly because he was obsessed with girls—just not us anymore. He was good friends with his dormmates, but told us we fascinated him. That was what kept him around all these years, apparently. He was quite fond of us, now.

We'd only been sitting in the compartment for several minutes and they had all been devoted to Odessa complaining about her devastating summer relationship.

"Odie, remind me who those earrings are from," Cilla said blandly. Her last name really was the only thing that saved her from a miserable existence at school.

Sitting up, Odessa gingerly touched her earlobes, fingering the diamond studs she always wore. She'd been wearing them every day since Christmas of last year. "Blaise," she whispered quietly.

"Odessa," I groaned. "Please tell me you didn't forget about Blaise. I thought you two had broken up."

She looked around frantically. "I was in Norway and he and his mother were in France for the entire summer. There was no way for me to contact him." An owl?

Cilla nodded with little compassion. "Tell him now. Don't make him wait."

Odessa shook her head. "No. I don't want him to start the school year depressed. His grades would slip. He's taking NEWT classes this year. Any more distractions for him would be too much. Especially since you know his step-father passed away at the end of last year." His seventh step-father. I think he'd be okay.

"If you want to know an angle from the guy's point of view, I'd rather be told right away. I wouldn't want to know you waited to tell me—that's skeevy. The longer you wait, the worse it's going to be," Will piped up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading. He enjoyed Quidditch and was remarkable at it, but had never gone out for the team.

"Odessa, get up. You have to tell him right now. I'll go with you." I stood up and motioned for her to follow me. Honestly, I was just stalling telling them about the Dark Mark. That was one of the reasons I didn't owl anyone this summer. I wasn't precisely sure how they would react. It was hard to gauge. Cilla would probably shake her head in defeat. Odessa might try to congratulate me without really meaning it. And Will…he was the hardest to determine. Probably because he kept his opinions to himself. He was just as much my friend as the others, but he was a bigger listener than talker.

I had to drag Odessa by her arm, almost tripping when she walked on the backs of my heels. "You know, that bracelet is tasteless. Snakes? Really? Cliché, Liora. It looks like a metallic sleeve—to thick to be considered a cuff." Her eyes were fixated on the piece of jewelry encircling my arm.

I stared at her stonily. "It's doing what is has to do."

She stared back at me, transfixed for a moment, thinking that maybe she had caught on to what I was saying.

"Is it enchanted? Is it keeping you from sweating or keeping your makeup from running?"

I dropped her arm, offended. "No. I don't look that bad. Now, let's go find Blaise. I have to talk to my brother anyway." I had actually wanted to talk to Malfoy about his task.

She tried to turn around and flee to the compartment. "Really, I could tell him once we get to Hogwarts. I promise. I'll tell him tonight. I'll tell him to meet me in the common room—"

"No. You have to go, now." Blaise wasn't a bad kid. He was friends with my brother and Malfoy which gave him a bad reputation. He was slightly perverted and crossed lines too often, but he was genuine. He didn't have the cool facades that everyone else in Slytherin seemed to have. Most importantly, Voldemort's influence left him untouched for the most part.

We marched down to one of the last compartments in the back of the train. The only people above sixth year Slytherins were seventh year Slytherins.

I pulled open the door and saw Malfoy, Lazzaro, Blaise, and Pansy Parkinson huddled around a table. She had her elbows propped up too far, hands covering Malfoy's. I almost pitied her, him leading her on like that. But then again, he had told her numerous times how worthless she was to him and she still didn't seem to get the hint. It was impossible for her to be hurt by him.

Lazzaro stood up and shook his head as soon as he saw us. "Nope. No. Get out, Liora. Go talk to your own friends." He gave Odessa a soft glare but didn't banish her from the cabin.

Blaise quickly stood up, face brightening as soon as he saw her. He shoved past me and gripped Odessa's face between his hands. Roughly pulling her into a kiss, he pushed her down onto an unoccupied bench, unaware of everyone around them looking around in disgust. For me, it was sadness. Blaise was obviously so passionate for Odessa and she was too, but not only for him.

I thought of my first kiss. It had been nothing like how Blaise and Odessa kissed. It had been with Nathan Yerts, a Ravenclaw who had been good friends with Cedric Diggory. He'd shown interest in me—surprising since he was crossing over into Slytherin. He was sweet and cute and I had always thought of him as a good friend. Although I had been the one that asked him to kiss me, my main motive was to secure the milestone of the first kiss. Besides, it was awkward and wet. He had missed my mouth, half kissing my cheek. We had gotten better at kissing, but once Cedric had died, that somehow seemed to fuel his loathing for Slytherin and he ended it. By then, our relationship had fizzled like steam. It meant nothing to me. He ignored me now.

Odessa didn't try to push him away, but Pansy of all people yelled at them loud enough. "Blaise, if you want to go shag your girlfriend, I'd prefer if you didn't do it in here. Go kick some little first years out of a compartment. I'll even do it for you." She was smiling too pleasurably.

Unsure, my friend cast me a glance. I nodded my head minutely.

Odessa stood up; leading Blaise by the hand, following after Pansy who somehow thought it was her duty to make sure all Pureblood Slytherins were paired off with each other, probably for the exact purpose of keeping Malfoy for herself.

I sighed sadly at the idea of Odessa and Blaise separating. They were the couple that everyone swore would get married for love. Besides my own parents' marriage, all other Slytherins seemed to do it out of blood ties and keeping the line pure.

"You looking for someone to snog, Cavyon?" Malfoy tried to ask with a smirk. He just looked drained. Lazzaro looked offended, forgetting he wasn't the only Cavyon there.

"You offering, Malfoy?" I matched his smirk, feeling a little more energetic than he looked. If we went off to snog, I could ask him about his task.

"Malfoy, back off. You two are not snogging. Liora, get the hell out of here before I jinx your ass out that door." Lazzaro had gone from threatening me with Unforgivables to little jinxes…interesting.

"Wait, I still need to talk to Malfoy—"

"Liora. Get. Out." Lazzaro moved closer to me, trying to size me up, deciding if he would actually have to kick me out using force.

I held my hands up, trying to look as soothing as possible. "Have you told anyone about your Marks yet? I don't know if I should tell anyone or not."

The two looked at each other. "Pansy and Blaise already know. I'll tell Crabbe and Goyle eventually. Any Slytherin would be trustworthy with that information." I vaguely doubted that.

Their glassy eyes didn't even seem to be registering the incredulous look I had. Could they be that stupid that they thought all Slytherins were trustworthy? I knew not all Slytherins were supporters of Voldemort. Some of them opposed him quite openly. It was hard to believe Lazzaro had pure hate written on his face a few days ago. Now he looked like a fish out of water.

"Don't tell anyone else," I grunted when I realized they were brainwashed. They wouldn't question any other Slytherin or the motives of the Dark Lord. I was the odd one out.

While I was shoving my way back to the compartment, I elbowed past the trolley cart and thoughtlessly stole a chocolate frog. As small as it was, I knew I'd be feeling guilt for taking it later.

Gah! What was wrong with me? If I had to be a Death Eater, I had to harden up. I couldn't walk around crying about stolen candy when my job description included killing others.

I didn't want to kill anyone. I wanted to be left alone and leave everyone else alone. That was the problem. The Purebloods wanted to squash everyone else because they were busybodies that liked sticking their noses where they didn't belong. Voldemort was the worst.

I wouldn't be part of it. I wouldn't.

I couldn't do it.

I was in the middle of my ethics rant when a small first year in unmarked robes shoved an envelope at me and quickly bustled away. Flipping the envelope to the front, Liora Valene was written in sloppy cursive that agitated my vision.

Carefully and guardedly ripping open the letter and letting the envelope flutter to the ground, I stared at its contents written in more horrible cursive.

Miss Liora Cavyon:

You are formally invited to the first meeting of the Slug Club held in Compartment C in the second box car.

This meeting will induct all new members into the exclusive society.

All members are carefully handpicked by Horace Slughorn, Potions Master at Hogwarts graciously returning from retirement.

Please join us at one o' clock sharp for tea.

If you are not there, I will assume you are lost and send someone to come at get you.

Cannot wait to see you!

His name was scrawled at the bottom. Or at least I think it was his name. It was hard to make out.

"Oh Merlin, kill me," I groaned from the creepily personal name on the envelope to the official looking joke of an invitation. And the Slug Club? The name alone made me want to vomit. I refused to be his pathetic little mascot. And why me? I had talked to him once in the Apothecary. I wouldn't say the conversation went well.

Back in the compartment, Cilla stood there, holding a matching letter, face pinched.

"You got one too?" She squinted at my letter.

I nodded sadly.

"I knew we had a new potions teacher and I'd heard who it was, but this is just excessive. I can't imagine why he would invite me; I've never met the man in my life."

"I did. Once."

"Please you two don't leave me alone here," Will complained jokingly.

"Don't worry, Will. I'm not going to that stupid meeting. I met the man once and never want to speak to him again."

Cilla gripped my arm tightly and started to pull me out the door. "Oh no. I am not going alone."

"Why the hell do you even want to go at all?" I moaned.

She shrugged delicately. "I'm a little intrigued. He sounds fascinating."

"The only fascinating thing about this is that you find him fascinating. That's more concerning than anything else."

"He won't be nearly as bad as you say, Liora."

I laughed at her words. For awhile, I was able to forget about being a Death Eater. I could complain to my friend about our new lunatic teacher with a strange fixation on his students.

That was until I saw Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter sitting in the compartment when we arrived there.

Thanks guys! Sorry it's been awhile since I updated, I've just been trying to get everything straightened out for the rest of the story. I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will be out much sooner—I'm already started on it. Please review and see you next chapter!