The Hogwarts Express was running quietly through Scotland, its compartments filled with eager students looking forward to the start of a new school year. In one particular compartment, near the back of the train, sat Talia and Draco. They spent their time talking about random things, like the aftermath of the riot at the World Cup, along with Talia's broken wand, which could not be salvaged. She had had to make a trip down to Diagon Alley to visit Mr. Ollivander's Wand Shop the other day. Her new wand consisted of willow, with a unicorn hair as the core. Coincidentally, Draco's wand contained a strand of unicorn hair in the core as well, and the two had compared and contrasted their wands, claiming that theirs was better than the others were.

They soon lost interest in talking about their wands, and moved on to just sitting side by side, enjoying the comfortable silence that stretched on between them. Occasionally they'd voice their thoughts, engaging in short conversation, but for the most part, they simply sat silently, enjoying the passing scenery that flew by their window as they grew closer to reaching Hogwarts.

It was some time later that the silence was broken by a pained sigh that left Talia's lips. There was this strange pain bellow her belly button; it felt like her insides were contracting and crunching up together—her mother had called it cramps. Just thinking about what her body was undergoing made Talia cringe. She'd known that this was bound to happen, that she'd start… menstruating, as all girls did when they came to be a certain age. It didn't mean that she'd been prepared for it, though. She just wanted it to go away, but her mother had told her that it would last a week, at the most—kill me now.

"Where are your friends," Talia asked Draco lazily, drawing up her knees and tucking them to the side so that her legs rested on the compartment seat; her head was resting on Draco's shoulder.

Draco shrugged, which made Talia bob her head along with his shoulder. "Don't know, don't care. They'll get here soon enough, I suppose. If not, then they've probably found somewhere else to sit."

"Fantastic," Talia hissed. The last thing she needed was to see Pansy giving Draco bedroom eyes. That girl had no tact, and Draco was too smug to discourage Pansy's attentions.

Hopefully, neither Pansy nor those other two dunderheads would make an appearance until Talia and Draco reached the school.

"So, how's your mum?" asked Draco idly, throwing an arm around Talia's shoulders.

"Her back is all healed up," Talia informed her friend, shifting in her seat so that her head rested on Draco's chest, "she's back to normal… as normal as she was to begin with."

To that, Draco chuckled softly. "So, how's your stomach ache?"

To that, Talia curled her lip up in a silent growl. "Not any better, I'm afraid."

Of course that had been a lie, Talia didn't have a stomach ache, but she was not about to tell Draco about her monthly problem. There were just some things that a girl needed to keep to herself, and this was definitely one of those things.

"So," Draco began, his voice going down two octaves, near a whisper, "I know something you don't know."

"By all means, enlighten me," said Talia with a roll of the eyes.

"I'll give you three guesses," said Draco in return.

Talia sighed, but decided to go along with whatever game Draco was playing. "Alright, uh… does it have to do with your family?"

"No," said Draco, and as an afterthought, added, "Although I did find out through my father. He's high up in the Ministry, you know."

Oh, so it has to do with the Ministry, thought Talia. Well, you've certainly stumped me, Draco. I don't have a bloody idea as to what you know.

"C'mon, you've got two guesses left," prompted Draco with a teasing grin.

"I'm thinking," shot back Talia nastily.

So, it has to do with the Ministry… and your father, or at least your father is involved for him to tell you, and your father works for the Ministry doing I don't know what—wait, he was in the Board of Trustees for Hogwarts, so—

"It has something to do with Hogwarts," Talia said with finality.

"How'd you figure that out?" asked Draco, genuinely confused.

"I'm just smart," said Talia smugly.

"Well, go on, you're on the right track—one more guess to go," said Draco begrudgingly.

"Well, if it has something to do with Hogwarts then I think—OWE," Talia hissed, doubling over in pain, her arms immediately wrapping around her midsection.

"What's wrong?" asked Draco quickly, his arm dropping from Talia's shoulders.

Talia said nothing; she just closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. The pain had been sudden, sharp, like if she was being stabbed in the abdomen by a knife. It had caught her off guard, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I'm okay," Talia said softly, sitting up and telling out a shaky breath, "It was just a… stomach cramp."

"You better see Madam Pomfrey about that," Draco told her, his eyebrows furrowed worriedly, "Maybe it was something you ate."

"Probably," said Talia absentmindedly, "Anyways, where were we?"

"I should just tell you," said Draco with a sigh.

"Please, do so," said Talia with a soft chuckle, settling back against Draco's chest, the two resuming their previous position, with Draco's arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her firmly against his side.

"What do you know about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"The Triwizard—what?"

Pouring rain greeted the students as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station. The ever present Hagrid stood awaiting the first years on the platform, a lantern in hand to light the way up to the docks were the traditional little boats awaited their passengers. Quickly the students exited the train, not worrying about dragging along their luggage, for they knew that the house elves would take care of it. Immediately, little groups began to break away from the general mass of bodies that tromped out of the ancient steam engine; there were the confused little first years that quickly scurried off to follow behind Hagrid, while the older students began making their way to the awaiting self-drawn carriages that would take them up to the school. Talia and Draco nearly ran all the way to one of the carriages in the queue, throwing the doors open and pushing each other out of the way to get inside first. Their cloaks were soaked through, weighing them down, and their hair was sticking to their faces, several shades darker with all the extra moisture.

They looked like drowned cats.

"Merlin's pants," Talia panted, ringing out her hair as she shifted in her seat, "it's simply pouring out there."

"You don't say," mumbled Draco sarcastically, bringing up his sleeve to dry his face. "I hadn't even noticed."

"Oh shut up," chuckled Talia, nudging Draco's foot with her own. "C'mon, use that drying spell, will you? I haven't really gotten used to my wand and I don't want to risk setting myself on fire."

"Really?" asked Draco with a taunting laugh, shaking his head as he took his wand out of his pocket. "I thought you were supposed to be… all knowing or something; top of your class and all that. You should have mastered your new wand by now."

"I'm not perfect, Draco," Talia shrugged, gathering up her wet hair so that she could twist it up into a bun.

"You are to me," Draco muttered quietly without even thinking.

"What?"

"Nothing—so, that drying spell…"

The Great Hall was buzzing with hushed murmurs. There were several empty seats up at the head table, and this was cause for gossip. Many students were curious as to who would fill in those empty seats, while the general consensus was curious as to who would fill up the Defense Against the Darks Arts post. There had been no word on who would teach the subject, or if the class would even be offered this school year. Many students were curious to see what would happen there, but none of them were as concerned as Talia was.

Remus Lupin should be sitting in that empty seat on the right, next to her uncle, but he wasn't, and the sight of his empty chair was upsetting. Talia would never forgive her uncle for telling her father's secret, not really, but she was on speaking terms with him. If it were not for her uncle's experienced hand, her mother would have most likely died; Talia owed Severus that much.

The first years came walking into the Great Hall soon enough, being led in by Professor McGonagall. The Sorting Hat sang its song, and the Sorting ceremony ensued shortly after. Talia watched with mild curiosity, remembering idly how her sorting had gone. She had not confessed this to anyone, but the old hat had nearly thrown her into Gryffindor.

"Ooh, I'm starving," Talia exclaimed as the feast materialized on the table before her.

"When are you not hungry, Talia?" Draco asked with a roll of the eyes.

"As if you aren't enjoying that drumstick," Talia scoffed, motioning towards the large chicken leg that Draco had set on his plate. "That thing is nearly the size of my arm."

"Oh shut up," Draco sneered, before quickly changing the conversation and saying, "hey, pass me that bowl of baked potatoes."

Talia arched an eyebrow and gave Draco an incredulous look. "A normal person would have asked for one potato… not the whole bowl."

"I wanna pick out which potato I eat, not just settle for whichever one you give me," Draco said smartly.

"You're pickier than I am," Talia mumbled, leaning over the table to grab the bowl of baked potatoes, passing it to Draco.

"I'm not the one who spent an hour the night before deciding on what socks to wear."

"Well at least I wasn't the one who spent thirty minutes deciding which side to part my hair."

"At least I didn't freak out because I couldn't find my scarf."

"At least I didn't freak out when that spider crawled into the bed with us."

"That thing nearly touched me!" Draco exclaimed, his face heating up, an indignant expression on his face as he tried to ignore the curious and amused looks his fellow Slytherins were shooting him, "it was inches away from my face, Natalia."

"It was no bigger than my thumbnail, Draco."

"Idiot," he mumbled.

"Stupid," muttered Talia in return.

"Bitch," Draco hissed.

"Dumbass," she shot back nastily.

"Asshole," Draco said with a sneer.

"Ass… butt?" Talia faltered.

The two Slytherins stared at each other for a moment, before breaking up into peals of laughter. Talia swatted Draco's arm, while Draco ruffled her hair, making various strands cover her eyes.

"Assbutt?" asked Draco, quirking up an eyebrow in question.

"I panicked, what do you expect?" asked Talia in return, tucking her hair behind her ears, her cheeks gaining an embarrassed rosy hue.

"Certainly something better than: Assbutt," snickered Draco.

Talia rolled her eyes. "No comment."

Draco scoffed, a smirk playing at his lips.

The feast wore on.

Pansy, who had been sitting across from Draco and Talia, stabbed at her food with her fork angrily. Jealousy consumed her, heating up her cheeks and causing a very murderous look to cross her eyes. It should be her sitting beside Draco, making him smile, sleeping over at his house, teasing and joking around with him. What could he possibly see in Talia? The girl was only twelve; how could he prefer that little… thing, to her?

What could Talia offer Draco that Pansy couldn't?

The Snapes weren't even wealthy—Pansy had done her research over the summer. Mrs. Snape appeared to be not working, and Professor Snapes' teaching salary wasn't nearly up to par with those of the elite. Her family had more money than they did; the Parkinsons were of old money, and the Snapes… they were nothing, insignificant, unheard of. Why would the Malfoys want to associate themselves with that kind of people?

Pansy just didn't get it.

From the high table, Dumbledore stood, immediately drawing the attention of all the students in the Great Hall, making them forget about their meal. He had a curious expression on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief behind half-moon glasses. Slowly he walked around the table, stopping once he stood at the center of all four house-tables. He waited a moment, to make sure that all eyes were on him, and only then, when he was sure that everyone was looking at him, did be begin his announcements after a warm welcome to the first years.

"Many things will be happening this year," Dumbledore said ominously, his hands behind his back, "but first, I would like to say that the inter-house Quidditch championship has been canceled."

At once, there was an uproar, the rowdiest of the students being the Quidditch players, who all bore a mixture of surprised and angry expressions on their faces as they yelled out their protests.

Dumbledore took it all in stride, and seemed unaffected as various indignant shouts were thrown his way; he even dared himself to smirk.

"Now now," he said calmly, raising a hand to hush his students, "there is a very good reason for why the Quidditch championship—"

A door suddenly slammed shut, echoing all throughout the Great Hall. All the students went silent as they watched a rather curious looking man step out of the staff door that was behind the high table, making his way to one of the empty seats—Remus' empty seat, to be precise.

"Please tell me that is not who I think it is," whispered Talia to Draco, leaning into his side.

"I think it's exactly who you think it is," said Draco quietly. "Isn't he just a sight for sore eyes?"

"Indeed," snickered Talia with a crinkle of her nose, staring down at the… man, who was getting comfortable at the high table.

"Ah, Alastor, right on time," Dumbledore said with a grin, nodding his head at the man.

The man, Alastor, merely grunted in response.

"Students, I would like to introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody," announced Dumbledore.

No one clapped.

Professor Moody was a very strange looking man. His face was heavily scarred, so damaged that no distinct facial features could be distinguished… if you did not count the magical false eye he had strapped to his face—it also looked like he had a good-sized chuck taken out of his nose, which was rather unsettling for the younger students. Only one good leg served the man, while the other was a prosthetic, made of wood. Every so often, he would bring up a little hip flask to his lips, drinking greedily at whatever liquid it contained, which was cause for various quirked eyebrows.

The goblet of pumpkin juice that was right at his fingertips was left untouched.

"Our new professor is a drunk," said Draco with a tone of disgust as he took notice of Moody's hip flask, but then he scoffed, saying, "Given his past work history, I wouldn't blame him."

"How do you mean?" asked Talia quietly, as Dumbledore continued with his announcements.

"He's an ex-auror," Draco told her softly, "word around the Ministry is that he's insanely paranoid of anything and everything, and eventually they took his title as an auror away from him because of that. They couldn't risk Moody cursing anyone for just looking at him the wrong way. My father even says that Moody had cursed his trash bins to attack anyone that entered his office."

"You don't think he'd do that here, do you?"

Draco shrugged, and Talia turned to look up at Dumbledore.

"… a one thousand galleon prize will be awarded to the winner," Dumbledore had been saying, "Only students 17 years and older can enter the tournament. Representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools will be arriving in October, and will stay here with us at Hogwarts for the duration of the Tournament."

The headmaster was talking about the Triwizard Tournament, the reason why Quidditch championships would be canceled that year. Talia had had absolutely no idea what the Tournament was all about, but Draco had explained it to her, back in the Hogwarts Express. The Tournament was a 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 were to compete in three magical tasks.

The Tournament had been a common event many years ago, being held every five years, each school taking a turn being its host. However, because of its dangerous tasks and high death toll, the Tournament was discontinued. It had not been held for over a century… but now it was back, but with various precautions, like how only wizards and witches who were of age could enter.

"This year's gonna be interesting," Talia commented as Dumbledore sent his students off to their dormitories.

"You don't say?" asked Draco sarcastically.

"Oh shut up, stupid."

"Idiot."

"Asshole."

"Assbutt—"

"Draco!"

"Natalia!"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Damn it."

Oh, this school year is going to be interesting, indeed…

AN: I love writing Talia and Draco's interactions.

What do you think?