Not long 'till Christmas guys! *Happy dance*

This therefore felt odd to write...not looking forward to the January blues :P

Your reviews continue to make my day! Thank you so so much for all the support and comments- you all deserve a massive stocking from Santa in my opinion C:

In which Chocolate Frogs cause reminiscing and my sister wins the award for the blatancy.

"Meg, you have to promise me something."

Owls were hooting all around us; young people rushing past me and parents calling after them; the smoke from the train making my eyes burn slightly. I turned to meet my mum's voice, looking at her worried expression blankly,

"And you really have to promise it," She added sternly,

"What is it?" I asked dully, hitching up my bag that was slipping from my shoulder.

"Please try your hardest to be inconspicuous this term," She held up a hand to forestall my protest, "I know it's hard. I really do. But they're getting desperate; they haven't caught Harry yet, and while they haven't everyone here has hope. Don't give them a reason to hurt you."

It was horribly reminiscent to the last time I had stood her with her, going back to Hogwarts. I had promised to keep safe then too. It was also horribly reminiscent of what Narcissa Malfoy had told her son. I swallowed angrily.

"Fine." I said simply to make that worried look that seemed so out of place on my mother's face disappear, "I promise."

"What's wrong?" She asked, placing an arm on my shoulder to stop me moving onto the train, "You've seemed miserable since Christmas Day."

"I'm...fine." I stuttered, remembering that was exactly what Draco had said. I wondered when either of us had ever been less fine. "Really. Just...January blues, I guess."

My mum pressed a kiss to my forehead and released me,

"I love you," She told me with a smile. Normally I would have wrinkled my nose and copied Jade's words of 'people are watching' but this time I forced out a more genuine smile,

"I'll see you soon." I told her, hopping onto the train just as its horn blasted through the air, blaring over the chatter and shouting, "We're definitely coming back for Easter."

She shouted something to me over the growing crescendo of the train beginning to move, and the calling of parents to their children. I didn't catch it.

I drew away from the door as the platform began to move past faster and faster, shrinking away from the people calling out to their families, and leaning against the wall to a compartment that was jerking and rattling with the train's growing movement. I dragged my gaze from the window, looking ahead at the people finding seats, at the atmosphere I had never encountered; the usual; excitement and laughter gone as with every second we drew closer to Hogwarts.

Through the crowd, I spotted someone, and my breath caught in my throat.

Malfoy looked back at me, and the coldness in his gaze made me feel like someone had lobbed my heart out the Divination Tower.

I stayed frozen for a moment, my gaze locked on his as if the people and noise between us weren't there. He had stopped too, his face that mask that told me nothing except that, right now, he didn't like me.

Eventually my view of him was blocked by the sea of people, and it was like a spell had been lifted, allowing me the use of my body once more. I summoned enough willpower to stagger backwards, through the next compartment, and I kept walking, putting as much distance between me and him.

Right now, my mind was such a mess I didn't really know what to think.

Perhaps on some level I had been kidding myself. I didn't doubt for a second that Malfoy severely regretted all that he had done, but I thought of him sitting there in his room; with everything that was going on beneath him, and it made my blood boil. Everything just seemed jumbled, and I could never get very far in sorting out it to myself.

I didn't see Terry until I crashed into him, tripping forwards as his hands seized my shoulders; his grin dominating my vision.

"There you are!" He said enthusiastically, "Antony was just saying-" He broke off, as if he had just taken my expression in for the first time. "Meg, what's wrong?"

My lip trembled slightly as I opened my mouth to tell him everything was fine and that he was clearly worse than Lavender Brown when it came to gossip, but I found I couldn't say the words. I wouldn't have meant anything less in my life.

And so; after Terry had led me back to the carriage where Antony was already sitting, with a pile of sweets leftover from Christmas; for one of the first times ever where Malfoy was concerned, I told Terry the absolute truth.

"Hang on," Antony interrupted, when I got to the heart of the story, "You went to a place where known Death Eaters were?" He flopped backwards in his seat, looking exasperated, "Are you really that dense?"

"Shut up." Terry told him, thought he looked like he couldn't have agreed more. "What happened then?"

"You mean before or after I found out that's where they're keeping Luna locked up?" I asked in a quiet voice, picking at a loose strand on my jumper.

"What?" Antony gasped, leaning forwards again, "Luna's there? Wha...how?"

I looked up in time to meet Terry's gaze, and saw a light of understanding light in his grey irises.

"What did you say to him?" He asked me gently.

"I..." I dropped my gaze to my hands, knotting my fingers together, "Well, I freaked out a bit really."

Terry seemed to be considering this; whilst Antony hadn't really seemed to have yet grasped the latest additions to the conversation.

"Luna's at the Malfoys?" He kept repeating, "I would have thought she would be in Azkaban at least."

"Well she's not." I snapped, immediately feeling guilty as he looked over at me. I hated being in this mood; how it was swallowing me, pressing down on me with as much menace as the castle that was drawing closer all the time.

"I'm sorry," I said, heaving a sigh, "I need some air." I staggered to my feet, the swaying motion of the carriage disorientating me slightly as I made my way to the door of the compartment.

Outside, shutting the door behind me, I crossed over to the window, sliding the top half downwards roughly to let the cold winter wind rush in; tugging at my hair and cooling my warm face as I inhaled it deeply, smelling the sleet that was flying in watery flakes past the window.

Perhaps, at the end of the day, I wasn't even that angry at Malfoy. I knew it had to be the polar opposite of easy to have your house run over by Death Eaters, and I could hardly expect him to openly oppose Luna's capture. I was simply more angry at the situation; furious that these problems had entered themselves into my life. Just thinking of bright, colourful Luna there, in that dark, soulless house made my heart pang with sympathy, and I wished with all my heart that I could have helped her.

Knowing that, really, I didn't blame Malfoy in the least right now didn't make any of this easier. The things I had shouted at him emphasised the exact opposite, and, judging from that cold look he had just given me; one that my heart was still reeling from, I very much doubted he would forgive me in a hurry.

I kicked out moodily at the juddering wall of the carriage, hating myself for my stupidity for blurting those words at him on Christmas Day. Antony was right, I really was dense.

I stepped backwards just as the sweet trolley was moving past, and by accident hit the wheel of it with my foot. The old lady who always steered it let out a squawk of alarm, and I spun round to face her awkwardly. Thankfully, it seemed I hadn't offended her.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" She asked, the minute she had assessed that I hadn't destroyed anything.

Given that I had just kicked her trolley, I thought it was only polite to buy something. Besides, I was pretty sure that underneath her kind smile, she was certainly not going to take no for an answer now.

I was busy selecting a Chocolate Frog that might house a card I didn't have (fat chance, as I had eaten more of the things than I could actually count) when a cold voice sounded in front of me that was evidently not happy about certain somebody's presence. I could only offer one suggestion as to who that was as I looked up and met Malfoy's eye. Me.

"Two cauldron cakes." He said brusquely to the lady, and I might have made a joke about Draco Malfoy eating candy if this really hadn't been such a terrible situation. A small part of me was wondering why he was so far down this end of the train when I had seen him several carriage ahead, but I suppose he had just missed the trolley beforehand.

"Can I talk to you?" I blurted out before anyone else could speak, looking at him, my heart thudding uselessly in my chest.

A hint of a sneer grazed his lips and I forced myself to remain calm. I had hurt his feelings and he was reacting in the only way he seemed to be able to. I could fix this, and by hell, I was going to.

"Fine." He said carelessly, handing the old lady a Galleon and snatching the cakes she was holding out to him. I hastily grabbed the nearest Chocolate Frog and pressed a few coins at her as well, my gaze flitting to Malfoy anxiously.

My hands had gone surprisingly clammy as I led him further down the carriage, away from the growing accumulation of people who had caught sight of the trolley laden with sweets.

I stopped just before the next carriage; where the luggage was stored; the gentle hooting of owls mixing with the ceaseless clunking of the train on the tracks.

"I'm so sorry." I told him, the second I had stopped, knowing how pathetic this sounded and desperately hoping that he would know just how earnest these words were, "What I said was inexcusable."

Malfoy looked at me for a while, his lips set in an unreadable line.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Forester." He said at last, "Do you want me to forgive you and forget this ever happened?"

I hesitated. To tell the truth that was exactly what I wanted. But his tone suggested that was the last thing he was about to do, and I was scared to contradict him right now. I suddenly felt as if I was standing on an extremely thin sheet of ice.

"Well, no." I finally spluttered, "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for the things I told you. If I could take them back, I would."

"You don't get it, do you, Forester?" He said harshly, and I looked up at him in alarm, "You can't take back those words-"

"But I didn't mean them-"

"Yes, you did." He said sharply, "And why wouldn't you? But you can't keep thinking I'm always the one in the wrong."

"What?" I asked blankly, losing my train of thought completely.

"Do you truly believe that taking on every Death Eater in my house and freeing her only to have her and her family in more danger than before is the right thing to do?"

"Her name is Luna. You can say it." I said angrily, but he looked at me steadily, unmoved by the outburst.

"Well?" He demanded,

"I..." I halted, growing increasingly frustrated that my reasons for my earlier anger at him were proving more and more unfounded. "Well, no, but-"

"I really don't understand you sometimes." He said quietly, his fingers playing absent-mindedly with the panels on the wall, "You act like everything's my fault then switch instantly to blaming everyone but me."

"That's not true!"

"But you blame me?"

"I keeping finding these things about you, Malfoy," I said quickly, feeling this outright, accusing question was a little unfair, "How do you expect me to take them lying down?"

"You know I regret them-"

"I know you do, but they still happened! They're still there, and I can't forget them-"

"Tell me what I can do, Forester."

"That's the thing." I said, realising what I was saying and wondering why I couldn't stop myself, "You can't."

"Don't." He had spoken the word loudly, carrying down the carriage. His jaw flickered as he spoke again, this time controlling the anger burning in his grey eyes, "Don't talk like that."

"But I can't forget it," I continued, almost pleading with him to understand that, "And the thing is, right now with everything that has happened, it's really hard to forgive you." My voice broke off. I wasn't saying this right, and right now, looking at his expression, I wasn't sure I was going to get another shot at saying it.

"I-" I went to try again, but Malfoy cut me off, his voice quiet with fury.

"No, Forester." He snapped, "Suit yourself." He made to turn away, then doubled back to me, his face lined with anger, "You know, sometimes, I really hate you."

That hurt. I watched him stalk away, feeling myself sagging against the wall as my eyes began to sting. I scrubbed a hand over my face to make sure I was awake and what I had said had actually passed through my lips.

He might hate me, but I was prepared to bet he didn't feel as hostile towards me as I currently was.

The train drew in as the day did; the screeching of the wheels breaking instilling little into my already low mood. Terry had been casting anxious glances at me for the remainder of the journey, but thankfully Antony's story about his more recent skiing adventures with his family kept up conversation, particularly with Padma's laughing.

The platform was chilly; traces of snow still visible despite the slush that flooded my shoes as we trekked towards the horseless carriages that waited. Sampson fluttered down onto my shoulder before I climbed up into the musty coach. How he had got out of his cage, I had no idea, but his familiar, large-eyed face was a comfort for me right now.

As the carriages began to move; bumping and jolting over the uneven road that wound towards the castle, I rested my head against the solid seat behind me; my fingers playing distractedly with the unopened Chocolate Frog that I had in my hands, glancing down at the purple and gold wrappings.

I remembered the first time I had bought one from the trolley, the excitement on the train palpable as we headed for Hogwarts; a place that my mum had told me about; the beauty and wonder it help incomparable. I had been dreaming about it for most of my life, imagining what the spires and towers would look like; if it was really as wondrous as the images I had conquered up were like. I had been proven right, of course. Those six years, before this, had been the best of my life.

I smiled weakly as I thought back to the grand doors to the Great Hall opening for my eyes; the Sorting Hat folding over my eyes and mordantly suggesting my use to Ravenclaw. I thought of the smile that had plastered my face as I took in the intricate ceiling of the Ravenclaw common room; the stars plotted against its royal blue surface. Then the lake; the grounds, Quidditch, the hilarious terror of Potions and the amazing food. I suppose only one, predictable word truly described it, and that was magic.

The carriage hit a rock, or some crevasse and rattled unexpectedly. Jolted back to present, I let out a sigh.

I had to stop. I was getting sentimental over a Chocolate Frog.

Dinnertime that evening was about as fun as could be expected, with Snape and the Carrows sitting up at the top table; their figures fearfully ignored by the students sitting before them. Everything seemed quieter than normal; the normal chatter and laughter muted. I sat looking down at my steak and ale pie, not the least bit inclined to eat it, tapping my knife against my goblet in what sounded, to me at least, like Do the Hippogriff.

"Meg," Terry said exasperatedly, after a few minutes, "Can you stop that? It's kind of setting my teeth on edge."

I would have apologised, but at that moment I was interrupted by Jade, leaning across the Ravenclaw sitting on my right to talk to me,

"You know that DA thing? I want in."

I had just taking a sip from my goblet as she had spoken, and as a result, the table suddenly got a spurt of pumpkin juice spat out over it.

"'DA thing'?" I repeated incredulously, coughing and shifting so I could meet her eye, "I...we-Jade! Shut up!"

"Oh, I'm sure he doesn't care." Jade said carelessly, poking the boy sitting between us. He started, broken from his conversation from the person sitting opposite him to stare at us.

"Yes?" I asked him pointedly. He blushed and looked away again.

"Well?" My sister asked impatiently, "Can I join?"

"Of course you can, but subtlety is kind of the point here."

"It's a wonder you're a member." She sorted, then caught my serious expression, "Wow, fine, I swear I'll never speak of it, or whatever you members of the DA say."

I hit my palm against my face in despair, wondering what malfunction in her brain made her so light-hearted about all of this.

As I turned back to my pie, I accidentally grazed my eyes along the Slytherin table and started when Malfoy met my stare. Something couldn't pull my eyes from his face, and it was only his looking away that released me. It felt like my heart had slipped down to my feet as I looked down at the glossy table; remembering when we had sat with the Christmas trees; the fire blazing as the snow fell from the sky. It was scary just how quickly I had ruined everything.

Snape made no speech at the end of the meal; leaving us to uncertainly pick our way out of the hall; departing for our four different common rooms. There was a faint buzz of conversation, and as I drew nearer to other students, I caught flashes of what they were talking about,

"-Harry-"

"-Godric's Hollow. Tonnes of Death Eaters!"

"Nah, you're wrong. He got away. Nobody was there-"

"It was in The Daily Prophet," Terry said in an undertone, catching my intrigued expression, "Harry showed up in Godric's Hollow apparently. But, of course, he got away."

"I imagine that went down a treat," I commented, glancing back at the staff table. Snape was still there, his black eyes unreadable from this distance. It wasn't like he ever looked happy anyway.

"Have you seen Malfoy yet this term?" Terry asked, the subject change catching me off guard, "Because I'm sure you can sort it out, Meg."

The fact that he was trying to help me with this made my eyes in danger of stinging again, and I turned away slightly, not wanting to answer the suggestion in the slightest. There was no way I could fix this, not now.

By a wave of luck, Neville appeared by our side; his tall figure immediately recognisable, as he fell into line beside us,

"Good Christmas, Meg, Terry?" He beamed, then carried on, which was fortunate as I was intending to kill the conversation with a flat-out 'no'. "Hagrid gave me a message," He hesitated, as if he was about to tell us something he really wasn't sure about, "Well, it's a little risky if you ask me, but I'll let you decide," He flicked a look over his shoulder to make sure nobody was listening, "Hagrid has decided he wants to have the people who support Harry over to his hut; a get-together, I suppose."

"A Harry Potter party?" I asked, suddenly amused, "I think 'risky' is an understatement, Neville."

"I agree with Meg," Terry said, "How is that going to help anything? Imagine if we're caught!"

"I agree with you," Neville hastened to add, a little sheepishly, "I suppose he thought it was good for morale, and for everyone to be together."

"Will there be lightning bolt shaped cookies?" I sniggered, still hung up on the prospect, "And breadsticks shaped like round glasses? Oh! And ice cream the colour-"

"I think what Meg is trying to say," Terry said hastily, looking at me disapprovingly, "Is that we decline the invite."

"What?" I protested, "No! It sounds really good!"

"There aren't going to be lightning shaped cookies." Terry said tartly.

"I think it's a great idea." I pressed on determinedly, growing more serious now, "I mean, we're all going through this together, aren't we?"

"What if you get caught?" Terry snapped, "Imagine all the trouble you'll bring down on yourself!"

"Who says I'm going to-"

"What's goin' on here?"

The voice made the three of us jump wildly, and I turned to meet Amycus with the most guileless expression I could summon.

"Heading back to the dormitories." I told him, selecting the story that was the least likely to see me hexed, "Totally innocent and unsuspicious."

Terry grabbed my arm and hauled me off into the crowd before I could go any further, muttering under his breath. I caught the words 'foolhardy' and 'I feel like a parent'. Despite Amycus' presence, my bad mood had dissipated slightly. There was evidently nothing like the sarcastic mocking of a Harry Potter party.

The eagle was in as good as mood of ever when we reached it, but it was saved from me asking for a riddle by the fourth year that had got there first.

"The answer it 'ton'." I kept telling him whilst he scowled back at me, obviously unbelieving, "Really, I promise."

"Let him work it out." Terry mumbled, although there was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes as the fourth year answered,

"Scales?"

"No." The eagle said with a loud yawn. "Step aside and let the irritating girl blurt out her answer."

"It's 'ton'," I said in a tired voice, making a show of stretching, and smirking over at the fourth year in a 'I told you so' way, "You've asked me that before."

"I seem to recall it wasn't you who answered it." The eagle muttered as he let the door swing open. That wiped my superior attitude aside. It was perfectly correct about that. Malfoy had answered that particular riddle.

There it was, I thought as I wormed my way into my bed a short while later. That emptiness that I had felt when term had first started; before Malfoy had so determinedly re-entered my life. It felt a little like a part of me was missing; something taken from me, like a walking stick, and now I was left stumbling. And it was completely my fault.

Sampson hooted in the darkness, and someone let out a faint murmur in their sub-consciousness.

I didn't want to hate Malfoy, and I didn't. In fact, I was pretty sure I felt the opposite. But the way he looked at me on the train; and that cold gaze that had frozen me at dinner, seemed to say that he hated me, and it was rather justifiable.

I fell asleep hosting ridiculous scenarios where I set everything straight with him, and found my dreams tinged with the same fantastical improbabilities, so that when I woke, cold and tired the next morning, the fact that what I had said to Malfoy felt harsher and more blaringly real than ever before. The emptiness felt bigger too.