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"I think I might be able to explain that actually," Abraxas stated suddenly, pulling everyone from the story; Draco still shoveling food into his mouth as he looked up at his Grandfather curiously.

"What?" he asked, his mouth full of food.

"For all that you say about Ron and the Weasleys Draco; you sure do resemble him right now with food hanging out of your mouth while you're attempting to talk," his Grandmother responded with a smirk.

He glared at her but didn't dare say a word at the moment. As lame as it sounded (even to himself), he really was interested in this story and didn't want to piss her off so much that she refused to tell him anything more, which was a definite possibility. She may have the patience of a Grandmother but she was still Granger and Granger had no patience.

"Well obviously Brax, I know now that he didn't know Legilimency at the time," Myone responded flatly turning to eye her husband with a roll of her eyes.

"Thank you wife," he responded in kind, "I just meant that I can give you the Slytherin side of the coin if you want." He was now staring directly at Draco. Clearly this whole conversation was for his benefit anyway, "That way you can see why we bothered talking to her in the first place." Draco nodded as he pondered the thought, seemingly interested.

"Now," Abraxas warned, "I'll have to go back a bit."

"Back a bit?" Draco questioned confused.

"Back to when Tom and I first discussed Myone and move on from there," he elaborated. Draco nodded, agreeing to the terms.

Abraxas inclined his head in turn with a smile and began,

I was sitting in the Slytherin common room working on my Transfiguration assignment when I heard Goyle and Crabbe laughing hysterically about Potter and Leach barreling into one another out on the Quidditch Pitch just a bit before. It seemed that they found it so amusing that they couldn't think straight; though part of me suspected that they were never able to think at all. I knew that they were just hoping that the Gryffindor team would be forced to forfeit due to their newly injured players.

"It seems Ms. Macmillan will have guests when we visit her next," a voice stated flatly from beside me, a quill scratching hastily across a roll of parchment.

"What?" I found myself asking blankly, eying Tom curiously from my spot beside him.

"Well, it would seem that when we go see Ms. Macmillan later, the Gryffindor hot heads will be there as well."

"Oh," I answered, realizing what he was indicating with a sigh. While we didn't particularly hate Gryffindor as a house, many of the Slytherins found that the Gryffindors were too brash, crass, and obstinate for their own good; typically making their lives more difficult and making enemies for themselves unnecessarily. Most of the male seventh year Slytherins had a particular animosity toward Leach, Greyback, and Potter however. Those three seemed to think that they were untouchable, and in their Head of House, Dumbledore's eyes, they practically were.

The interest I had in the odd new girl was diminishing with the prospect of having to interact with the idiots and I tried to focus on his assignment on Chameleon Transfiguration and the complications that arise within its color changing abilities and how it affects that which it is transfigured into.

Tom suddenly sat up from his previously hunched over and concentrating state to look over at me and glare, "I don't think she came from Durmstrang."

"What?" I asked confused. It wasn't unusual that I lost track of Tom's thought process as he sometimes said what came to mind without proper background.

"Ms. Macmillan," he replied, turning to look at me, seemingly simply to roll his eyes, before turning back to his parchment, "I don't believe that she is a student from Durmstrang at all. It would seem that she is hiding something."

"And how did you manage to come to that conclusion?" I asked flatly, knowing that he was going to tell me whether I asked or not. Tom seemed to enjoy telling me how he figured something out and showing off his brilliance.

"Easily," Tom replied confidently, "I already talked with Madam Oxkin while you were picking out that transfiguration book and she told me that no girl fitting Ms. Macmillan's description had come into the library at all…ever. Which leads me to the conclusion that she either snuck past Oxkin, which we all know is nearly impossible, or that she apparated in which is equally so. Either way, she was trying to be sneaky. Then when you were carrying her I noticed that her uniform, despite being 'Hogwarts' style, wasn't actually anything I'd ever seen a Hogwarts student wear and when you adjusted her in the hallway I couldn't help but notice that her skirt wasn't floor length but showed past her knee."

"Wait…what?" I asked confused. When I'd carried her, she'd been wearing her robes and I guess I hadn't noticed, but the idea that Tom, whose interest in women was practically nonexistent, noticed the length of her skirt, was astounding. "You noticed how long her skirt was?"

"It isn't nearly as big of a deal as you seem to be making it out to be," Tom shrugged, dabbing his quill in a bit of ink as he continued to scroll along his parchment.

"You were looking at her skirt?"

"No," he replied harshly, "And you're missing the point, I'm saying that she isn't from here. She's lying about being from Durmstrang and I want to know who she really is and how she knows what she knows."

"What does she know?"

"Nothing, never mind," he immediately shut up and I realized I wasn't going to get anything else from him. Sighing, I went back to my transfiguration homework and got busy; it was almost time for supper.

We finished with our homework just in time for supper it seemed. "Planning to eat with the rest of us, there mate?" a voice called from across the room.

I looked up at the black haired, grey eyed, Alphard Black and nodded, "In a bit."

"Food'll be gone in a bit," Ryland responded, letting himself land heavily on the couch cushion beside mine and jostling my roll of parchment and book that I had balanced on my knees.

"The food won't be gone," I replied with a sneer directed towards the man.

"Can you take this inane conversation elsewhere while I finish this assignment," Tom stated annoyed.

We smiled at Tom but didn't say a word against him, we knew better than to anger the man, he was the most powerful wizard here at Hogwarts and no one in Slytherin wanted to be on his bad side; whether that was the self-preservation of a Slytherin or the common sense of a human we weren't entirely sure.

It seemed that Tom was just about finished with his assignment anyway as he signed his name at the end of his parchment, fanned it for a moment with his hand, and then allowed it to roll in on itself. He capped his ink and packed away his belongings, leaving them on the couch in the common room as though to dare someone to touch them; no one would.

The four of us walked together to the Great Hall, talking amicably to ourselves as we went. "Got an owl from my Mum this morning," Alphard sighed, his face resigned.

"What'd she say Alphard?" Tom asked curiously.

"Talked about signing a marriage contract," Alphard replied miserably.

"Who's the lucky lady," Ryland smirked, knowing how much Alphard hated this.

"Gertrude Flint," he grumbled under his breath miserably.

"Ohhh," I couldn't help but mutter, "Too bad mate." Gertrude Flint was not easy on the eyes or the ears. She was a seventh year Slytherin who had been known to break a silencing charm with her high pitched whine of a voice. She had long sleek black hair, fathomless pit black eyes, and teeth that appeared as though she'd chewed through metal bars as a child. There had been times when we'd watch her eat in disbelief that she was able to get the food into her mouth.

Finding our seats in the Great Hall, I watched Al hang his head in defeat as he eyed the girl struggle to put a sausage in her mouth from a bit of a ways down the table, "I really am sorry mate."

"Yeah, thanks," he ground out bitterly.

"Hi Mr. Malfoy," a girl's voice called out from a bit down the table with a smile, I glanced in her direction which only seemed to cause her to blush, wave in what I assumed she thought was an adorable manner, and turn to her friends who congratulated her over something before they all giggled. I didn't recognize her so I suspected that she was probably younger than a fifth year as most of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years had all introduced themselves to me.

Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Riddle," I heard the Carrow girls call from the other side of Ryland and Alphard who smirked at our disdainful expressions. The girls didn't seem to notice. The Carrow girls, I didn't bother to learn their names, were probably two of the stupidest girls I'd ever met. They'd failed all their OWL's twice and were supposed to have graduated two years prior. The rumor they started was that they were waiting for Tom and I so that we'd be in the same year so we could be the same age; that was how stupid they were. There was no doubt in my mind that they failed because they were idiots, not because they were 'waiting' for us.

Once Tom and I finished our meal I grabbed an extra serving for the new Macmillan girl and we excused ourselves, telling the others we had to stop by the Infirmary though not telling the others exactly why. Tom still suspected that she was hiding something and though I wasn't sure one way or the other, I didn't really want to share her with Black and Yaxley yet if I didn't have to.

We'd made it just inside the doors of the Hospital Wing when I heard the obnoxious voice of Leach call out, "We may starve." After that ridiculous comment, we heard both boys burst into laughter, though I couldn't help but smile as I noticed that it halted as they noticed Tom and I.

"Malfoy," Leach stated with a frown, his nose wrinkled up in disdain.

"Leach," I replied in an equally friendly manner, "I see your practice for the game on Saturday went well."

"It won't matter," Norbert replied, "We'll still win come Saturday."

"That I would very much like to see," I replied with a sarcastic smile. We continued to glare between ourselves until the sound of stomach hunger interrupted the awkward silence. I glanced around for the source and spotted Macmillan eying the tray of food in my arms longingly so I set off towards to her and set it atop her lap.

"I assume you haven't eaten yet," I stated casually, taking a step back to give her room to eat.

"No, I haven't….um, thank you."

"Not a problem," I answered.

"What about ours?" Potter asked suddenly, faking a pout and looking ridiculous.

"I believe it'd be where it's supposed to be; the Great Hall," Tom replied; making it the first thing he'd said since he arrived and making me smirk.

"Oh, but Tom, I thought we were such great friends," Potter responded sarcastically.

"It would appear you were wrong," Tom huffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes, "Now if you would move along it would be greatly appreciated."

"What for?" Norbert questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"We have some things to discuss with Ms. Macmillan here," I responded, grabbing a discarded chair from the wall and moving it to her bedside before sitting myself into it gracefully.

"What could you possibly have to discuss with her?" Leach bristled, "I'm a prefect for Gryffindor, I'm sure I could handle whatever needs to be discussed."

"And I am head boy," Tom reminded him, "I have precedence. Now, I believe you were planning to head to the Great Hall for supper?"

The boys grumbled to themselves, but got up; Potter letting Leach use his good shoulder for leverage as he limped from the Infirmary, the doors closing almost silently behind them.

Tom seemed quite pleased that they were gone and turned to the girl with a smile as he asked casually, "Now, where were we?"

"Um, I…I don't know," she said nervously, glancing down at the food and frowning. It was odd to see someone so nervous around Tom. Everyone was usually so taken with him…well other than Dumbledore but Tom didn't particularly like him either. Perhaps the girl really was hiding something.

I noticed her look at the food longingly but not make a move toward it. "Eat it," I encouraged, "It won't bite."

"I have some questions for you," Tom continued, moving toward her and sitting himself at the foot of her bed. She looked annoyed and I had to fight the laugh that threatened to erupt.

"Ms. Macmillan, I have some serious questions for you that I expect to have answered immediately," Tom began, not waiting for an answer as he continued, "I happen to know for a fact that you did not previously attend Durmstrang before coming to this institution. You do not have the coloring of someone who attended there as all the others do, nor the accent, or the demeanor."

I glanced over at the girl, her eyes appeared to be glazed over, she wasn't paying attention; I stifled a smirk, Tom wasn't going to be happy.

"Not only that but you somehow managed to get in without Madam Oxkin's notice which tells me that you were trying to sneak in. You wouldn't need to sneak into the library unless you had something to hide; what are you hiding? Don't think I won't figure it out. I can figure out anything. I am considered the brightest student at Hogwarts and if you think-"

"She's not paying attention mate," I finally interrupted before he went further into his tirade.

"What?" Tom asked, turning to look at me before settling his gaze on her to see that it was true, she really wasn't paying attention at all. "Are you even listening?" Tom asked annoyed before suddenly thumping her lightly on the leg closest to him causing her to jump, still in the confines of her blanket.

"What?" she gasped, the food on her tray spilling all over the blankets at her sudden movement.

Tom jumped up and away from her, alarmed. I couldn't stop the snicker under my breath at the entire situation despite the glare thrown my way by Tom. We suddenly turned in fascination as the girl moved her hand over her lap and all the remnants of the mess vanished from the blankets and the tray, leaving everything brilliantly clean. If I didn't know any better I'd suspect that it was a Scourgify which was not a usual feminine cleaning charm; besides the fact that I wasn't aware birds were even learning to perform wandless magic let along something nonverbal. That was quite advanced. I spared a glance toward Tom to see he clearly thought the same.

"Did you just preform wandless nonverbal magic?" Tom asked in amazement. I noticed her look up at him alarmed; as though she hadn't even realized it. She was performing wandless nonverbal magic in such great quantities that it didn't even cross her notice; amazing.

"Um…" she stuttered out.

"Because I know only a few spells wandlessly and even fewer wandlessly and nonverbally and all of the professors say that I'm incredibly advanced."

"Um, I was considered quite advanced at Durmstrang," she replied. Clearly she hadn't been listening. He already knew she hadn't gone to Durmstrang.

We seemed to settle into an awkward silence in which the two us just seemed to stare at her when she suddenly interrupted with, "What?"

"Nothing," Tom was quick to assure, "It's just…well…"

"Most of the pure-blooded girls here aren't very concerned with being great witches," I finished.

She looked mad at that which was confusing…was it not the same at Durmstrang…from what I understood it was even worse there. Tom's theory about her not being from Scandinavia was looking more and more likely, but if she wasn't from there, where was she from?

"That's not to say you can't," I quickly corrected, not wanting to anger her too much in our first real conversation, "It's just that with the limited career options for women, most pureblooded girls at Hogwarts don't concern themselves with the prospect of careers."

The angry look on her face melted away as though she was trying not to argue. She then nodded and commented diplomatically, "So…what were we talking about?"

"Ahh yes," Tom stated with a cough, "We were actually just wondering some general things about you. Nothing too serious or anything; it's just that it's not every day that we meet a witch in the way we met you." It seemed that Tom was changing his tactics, perhaps the direct approach of demanding the truth wasn't the best way of going about it with her; I couldn't help but agree.

"You mean, collapsed under a pile of books in the library," she replied, a hint of a smile gracing her lips; we simply nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," Tom replied.

"So you're in Gryffindor then?" I questioned motioning toward her robes, which, now that Tom mentioned it, did look odd.

"Yes," she nodded, pulling the blanket up over herself self-consciously, "I've already talked to Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore - they put an old hat on my head and it decided that I was to be placed in Gryffindor."

"The sorting hat," Tom clarified, "It's put on most students in first year during the Welcome Feast, but with the transfers they've taken to doing the sorting privately to keep from singling the students out." She nodded in agreement.

"What are you boys doing?" a voice huffed. I turned to spot Madam Treyhart, "I don't believe I told you that it was visiting hours."

"Our apologies Madam Treyhart, we just wanted to formally introduce ourselves as well as keep her company seeing as Potter and Leach both snuck out of here just as fast they could," Tom stated with an innocent smile. I smirked at the clever wording Tom always had.

"Oh those two," she huffed annoyed, looking toward the two abandoned beds before turning back to us, "I expect you both gone by the time I get back. She needs her rest."

"Of course Madam Treyhart," we replied together, as we sometimes did. The female teachers found it 'cute' and we found that we were able to get away with more.

She nodded once, then shut and locked her office door with the flick of her wand before she walked briskly from the Hospital Wing.

"Now that she's gone…" Tom stated with relief, trailing off as he moved toward her with one of his conniving smiles.

"Are you going to kill me?" she suddenly sputtered out.

"What?" Tom sputtered back, glancing at me, though I simply shrugged my shoulders in equal confusion…where had that come from, "Nuu no. NO! Why? Is there a reason we should?"

"No," she replied quickly, "It's just; you looked so serious right there I wasn't entirely sure."

"We're not going to kill you," I assured from beside her; watching as she jumped, apparently startled again. She seemed to be as jumpy as a rabbit. There was an awkward silence that was beginning to make me uncomfortable…why were we talking about killing people…and why was she so jumpy?

"Sooo," I finally continued, "I guess that's it then?" I watched her shrug her shoulders and noticed Riddle glare at me; I simply gave him my signature Malfoy smirk, his glare deepened.

"I am feeling quite worn," she replied, causing both of us to turn and look at her curiously.

"Well that won't do," Riddle commented, "We'll leave you to rest then. We hope to see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then," she replied, forcing a pained smile and nodding her head to us before we nodded, turned, and left the Hospital Wing.

"Well that was interesting," I commented flatly, walking beside Tom as we made our way toward the Dungeons.

"I still had more questions," Tom huffed annoyed, turning to glare at me before stomping ahead in some sort of childish tantrum.

I sighed and ran to catch up. "Perhaps we should befriend her," I suggested to the irate boy now beside me, "If we were friends, maybe she'd tell us the truth."

"Befriend her," he repeated, wrinkling his nose in distaste, "Are we ruddy birds, Brax?"

"Well, you have to remember that the girl is all alone in a new place with no one to rely on," I continued, "And she's already met us and Potter and Leach. We just need to be there for her and befriend her and she'll tell us whatever we want to know. Girls are all ruddy gossips as it is anyway."

"That's perfect Brax," Tom replied with a wolfish grin, "We shall befriend her and discover just what she's hiding. This knowledge shall stay between us."

"Yaxley and Black?" I questioned him curiously.

"For now, no; leave them in the dark as well," Tom decided after a moment of thought, "The less they know about the interworkings of this plan the better."

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