Heyo! I'm back again and on time? Unbelievable. I got a bunch of feedback from my last chapter and it made the process so much more fun, going through and wondering what all you would think about updates to come. This chapter has a lot of setting up for next chapter which will be huge and the party chapter (because everyone needs one, right?). I look so forward to updating again but until then:

Enjoy!

January 22nd, 1943

While the rest of her year floundered with classes and the mounting stress of OWLs, Merissa's week had been going too well for her own belief. She had successfully charmed almost all the fifth and sixth years of Slytherin house by this time, which had all kinds of unexpected perks. She was currently squeezed between Druella Rosier and Andrew Nott, Abraxas across from her, having arrived later. He hadn't said anything to her on the subject of Riddle since that night, and she had pushed his words from her mind. Her new found admirers made for plenty of distraction as they seemed to trade her attention between themselves, leaving no room for pensive thoughts. In slightly different circumstances Merissa could envision herself destesting this constant pestering, but given how much she had been left alone lately, she rather enjoyed the heedless chatter.

This morning, Nott was entertaining them with a story the summer before last when a large group of Slytherin's arranged a trip together while their parents convened in Rome. Merissa and Abraxas had been forbade by their parents to join them off the basis of the crowd being too unruly (Merissa in fact vividly remembered her mother muttering about hooligans bringing shame to their pureblood lines while bustling around their hotel room, playing Merissa's keeper, her father already with the other families) and now that Merissa had heard a few stories from that weekend, she thought either Andrew was exagerattingfor effect or that her mother was absolutely right. Either way, it did made for good diversion.

". . .So there she was on the edge of the river, in just her knickers, covered in firewhiskey and screaming about how she would never come to Santorini again," Andrew told them, flourishing his hand dramatically, as Merissa laughed hysterically with Druella, "He yelled back that she was a terrible dancer anyways and that he hated her perfume, throwing her clothes at her. When he tossed her shoes, she lobbed them back, saying they were ruined now anyways from motor oil. The heel caught his leg, and that's why he has that scar there."

"I can't believe they - they - " Merissa interrupted herself with a fresh round of giggles when she saw Andrew's grin, "Got together after that," she managed to wheeze before laughing again.

"Oh, here t-they come," Druella whispered, looking elated as Horny and Lestrange entered the hall, holding hands.

"S-s-shush," Merissa managed to gasp, looking serious as she could with tears streaming down her face.

Andrew looked at her for a moment, before they both broke into a fresh round of snickers. The couple glared down at them, Hornby huffing and flicking her blond ponytail like a weapon, succeeding only in whacking her best friend, Marianna Prewett across the face. Merissa grinned further at the scene, ignoring Abraxas, who from across the table was reading the Prophet and clearing his throat rather loudly. She was creating quite the ruckus for this early in the morning, and apparently Abraxas wasn't the only one who thought so.

"Merissa," called a familiar voice from down the table.

She rolled her eyes before acknowledging it, making Andrew chuckle again and then turned to her brother, who had spoken, "What Joseph? Is there a decibel limit for meals now?"

Joseph had not inherited their mother's eyes, so he couldn't give quite the same icy stare, but he was certainly still trying, "I want to talk to you after breakfast. Make sure you eat something."

Walburga was giving him a pout, but Joseph rarely paid his fiancee much attention when it wasn't obligated and missed it entirely. Evidently, she felt he was being too harsh on his little sister, and more importantly, on her new friend.

Bore Merissa mouthed to Druella, making her grin. Merissa found her new friends were very easy to please, especially when compared with Susan, who was still acting like she didn't exist. Just yesterday Susan had run straight into Merissa on the stairs to their dormitory, only to give Mary Longbottom a puzzled shrug and sneer, "Strange, it's as if I hit something of substance."

Long after their snickers had faded down into the common room Merissa had been pacing the dormitory, bubbling with anger. In the end, it was Mary's sheets that were dusted with Ive's Itching Powder and Merissa reveled in watching the girl scratch her hives from across the Great Hall, if only because she knew her own sheets were protected with every magical protection she could give them.

All Susan and Mary could do was glare at her this morning, and they knew it. Beside them, being largely ignored it seemed, Alphard was picking at his breakfast and throwing wuthering looks in her direction as well, although Merissa could have sworn that they were directed at Andrew and not herself. It wasn't as if Alphard had been giving her any reason to laugh lately though, so she flicked her hair back haughtily when he looked at her, before engaging in conversation with Andrew again.

"Tell me about that incident with the thestral again?" she begged, beaming up at him.

He looked elated at her interest, turning his entire body towards her, his breakfast long forgotten, "Well you have to remember it was a hot July . . ."

Her breakfast long extended by Andrew's chatter and her plate cleaned, Merissa found herself with no excuses to avoid Joseph anymore, especially with him waiting expectantly for her from a few spaces down. When she attempted to coax a long story out of Druella as well, her brother grew impatient and all but towed her from the table.

"How rude-" she snapped as he took her shoulder into his grasp. He appeared incredibly bored as he continued to tug her up though so she said hastily, "You really must tell me more later than Druella, I love hearing - hey!" she snapped at Joseph and he tugged her harder.

Joseph, ever impassive when dealing with her, kept them both moving, predictable and boring as a the slide of a glacier over land. Her annoyance mounting, she stomped on his foot, allowing her to free her arm and walk the rest of the way out of the hall with slightly more dignity. He wasn't moved by this either, simply moving to walk closely behind her. She wondered sometimes if she could ever catch him off guard.

"I've heard about the little party you're throwing," he said once they had reached the relative quiet of the corridor outside the hall, still just behind her.

Merissa had intended to evade him longer, thoroughly annoyed by his abduction, however his choice of topic made her hesitate.

"And?" she demanded, turning on her heel to face him, "It's not a crime, is it?" she narrowed her eyes at him, "You didn't want an invitation to your ickle sister's party, did you?" she mocked.

"No," he snapped, his nose raising slightly as if to prove how above the idea he was, "Although I'm understanding I will be going anyways, since Walburga is so fond of you suddenly," he gave her a pointed look with she answered by jutting out her chin, "My point is, you're starting to act like you did last year, and don't think I've had as much discretion as Abraxas has allowed you to mother and father."

She scoffed at the age-old threat.

"Unlikely, since I haven't gotten any howlers," she retorted, putting her hands on her hips.

She didn't appreciate him trying to crush her good mood, especially if it were for something as petty as not liking how she had be-friended Walburga. Hadn't he been begging her to do just that for years? It wasn't as if he knew she had done with with ulterior motives, but then, she thought, maybe he did know just that. She was never any good at tricking him.

"They've been a bit busy to write, however come Easter break I'm sure they will express their displeasure in person. You've used up all of mother's patience, sister," he spat the last word, as it was an insult to both of them.

"Thanks for the heads up," she muttered, pushing past him. It was clear to her that it was no longer and empty threat, but instead one that had been carried out, but she she decided to worry later.

She was simply angry at the moment.

Returning to the hall to fetch her bag before classes began, she hustled through her peers, many of which were already moving toward the door she had just come through. Muttering profanities quietly to herself she pushed through, feeling like a fish swimming upstream. She reached the Slytherin table at last only to find that her bag was nowhere to be seen.

"Son of a banshee," she hissed, her eyes frantically running up and down the benches. Her bag simply wasn't there. Another low mutter escaped her lips and she kicked the leg in annoyance, only injuring her toe in the process. Allowing herself to be caught up in the wave of students moving to the door she scanned for Susan or Mary instead. Certainly this would be their idea of payback, weak as it might be. Her mind buzzing with possible hiding spots, she suddenly found that she was looking right at her bag.

"Hilarious, is this your idea of a joke?" she growled, snatching it out of the boys hands before realizing it wasn't a random peer who had picked up her bag for her.

Merissa was suddenly very aware that she hadn't been this close to Alphard Black since he had kissed her outside the Ravenclaw common room just a month ago. Refusing to take a step back she simply slipped her bag over her shoulder and waited for him to respond. He seemed to be struggling with words, a stricken expression on his face.

"Well Black?" she finally demanded.

The silence between them was deafening.

"No, Re I - are you - with Joseph I mean-" he finally managed, but before he could say a full thought, his stutterings were cut off by the appearance of a tall, bronze girl wrapping an arm around him.

"Why are you talking to her Al?" Susan asked, regarding Merissa with disgust.

"I'm sure it was an honest mistake," Merissa snapped when Alphard said nothing again, "He knows better, since you're his jailor now."

Alphard winced as if he had been stung by this comment, but Susan stayed steady, "Must have been."

Merissa knew why her eyes flashed to Alphard expectantly, and for a brief moment she really believed he might stick up for her, or even himself, yet in the same beat she recognized it was nothing more than a hope. He said nothing.

Merissa's jaw set and she swore she felt like she might never be able to smile again.

"Who would want a perfect prefect around," Alphard agreed finally, making his old term of endearment as an insult.

"Yeah, who would care about me," Merissa snapped, not allowing the hurt to reach her tone as she turned on her heel and strutted away. How silly she felt now that she thought silence was the worst he could do to her.

When she had reached Artichmacy, she found her regular seat still empty, but flanked by Nott and Thomas. She lowered herself into it grimly, suddenly wishing she could be alone this class instead. Somehow she doubted either of their company would really be able to distract her.

"Hey Thorpe," they greeted, in near unison. She gave them a weak smile as she dug through her bag, pulling out on of the dark notebooks from Abraxas' crazy aunt and slipped Andrew the essay he had waited for. The rest of the class she scratched down phrases Professor Shacklebolt was saying without absorbing anything.

It had been a rather awful morning. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that her parents knew, as she had been warned they would in the beginning of the year. She had clung to the hope that maybe somehow they might be distracted by work or by the news of Abraxas' Christmas present - it seemed this had been in vain. It was unclear what her punishment would be, though she was sure it would far outshine the crime.

At the very least she could laugh and think that if they knew even half of what she had been doing this year, she would be moved permanently to a rehabilitation center. Ladies don't play power games with the Heir of Slytherin she thought, smiling slightly.

To her surprise however, Riddle had stayed away from her this week. If anything, she expected him to be at her throat again after she had played him so openly, but other than noticing him watching her, he didn't seem to be paying her any mind. She had decided he was probably biding his time or hatching a scheme and Abraxas had agreed. Though right now, Riddle looked incredibly innocent, she noticed. Even as she watched him avidly, his focus seemed to be entirely on the lesson, no flicker of his eyes towards her. He was sitting in his normal spot across the room from her, writing on a loose piece of parchment, as he always did. One hand steadying the scroll onto his desk and the other carefully constructing his looped letter with an inky colored quill. It irked her to watch; where would he put this paper after? She cringed at the thought of a bag full of loose paper. She was quite the snob when it came to stationary.

"Thorpe, did you catch that last part about druid symbols in Africa?" Andrew asked, making her flinch.

"Yes - I mean no," she looked up at him, standing next to her desk. She was confused by this for a moment before she realized that the class had ended. Nott was slipping her essay back under her notebook as he spoke, his body blocking it from view of Professor Shacklebolt's ever keen eyes. Thomas, thankfully, was so engaged in his zealous completion of his notes that he too was rendered unaware of the transaction. Taking the notebook and hidden essay into her hands she tucked them back into her bag and stood. Her eyes wandered back to Riddle who was tucking his papers back into his bag. If he wasn't such a control freak, she would have been concerned they would get crumpled up. She stared at him with greater intensity as if willing him to be careful.

"You doing alright?" Nott asked, leaning against the desk opposite hers, apparently waiting to walk with her. Even preoccupied as she was, she recognized with slight irritation what was happening here.

"Yes," she said sternly, eager now to get to Care of Magical Creatures. Making it to the hall in record time she started down the stairs. Even in her hurry, she was sure shoulder past Alphard, although he was not really in her way. She left too quickly to see his expression (Not that I care, she told herself furiously), but even through the din she swore the exhausted sigh was from him.

Eager to escape to the grounds, Merissa noticed that although her hand was against the mighty oak door, her magic was what pushed it open, releasing her into the wintry it was still freezing outside, the cold air was welcomed, as her hustle through the castle had left her with a thin layer of sweat across her brow. Part of her wanted to bask in the chill like other would in the warm June sun, but she knew better to be late, especially if her parents were on their last string with her as Joseph had said. As she began to cool, she noticed a pair of Gryffindors whispering as she walked by. Usually, she wouldn't be bothered by this, but it wasn't customary for them to care about Ravenclaw gossip (having so much internal house excitement) and she was unaccustomed to their attention. Part of her thought she must have imagined it, however, a glance behind her shoulder confirmed that they were still looking at her, their heads bowed together as they spoke.

Halfway down to the forest, where class was being held that day, Merissa was still ruminating when Abby joined her. The red headed girl had a strange look on her face and Merissa was about to ask if she had heard anything when Abby started speaking quickly herself.

"Have you seen Edward around Mary lately?" she demanded, still frowning at her feet as she spoke.

"Thomas? Er - no," Merissa replied shortly, taken aback by the girl's intensity.

Abby turned her head up expectantly and it took Merissa a few moments to realize she was waiting for her to elaborate.

"I only really see him during patrols and on occasion in the library," Merissa explained, hoping her answer would satisfy her friend. Abby, usually in good spirits, was grim today.

"And during mealtimes," she sighed, "He's been taking them with Mary an awful lot."

Merissa shook her head, trying to come up with some recollection of this, but could not, "I honestly hadn't noticed," she told her, "I'm sure its nothing."

Abby nodded slightly but Merissa could tell she wasn't convinced. As much as Merissa tried to be understanding, she really couldn't see why Abby, after years of being more or less ignored would still carry a torch, and large one at that for Thomas. No one was worth waiting that long, and certainly not someone who thought Prefect's Guide to Perfecting Rulekeeping was an exhilarating read. Nevertheless, it put an uncomfortable feeling in Merissa's stomach to watch her usually springly friend trudge down through the frost with such defeat. She was glad when they reached the rest of the class and James joined them, making Abby inadvertently break into her usual grin.

From here they had a clear view of the field where the creatures for today's lesson were. The entire class was early, but there was little question why. The unicorns were always a popular and this year there were not only the silvery white adults but several golden yearlings that didn't yet know to fear humans. A large group of girls had congregated around the creatures and were coaxing them forward with various treats taken from breakfast. Their professor, whether because she did not care or because she was half blind from a hippogriff kick to the head, did not mind this and was feeding the largest of all a sugar cube from her hand.

Susan and Mary were some of the only girls not attempting to touch the creatures, electing instead to lean against a large boulder and pretend they were incredibly bored. Upon Merissa's arrival, Mary's eyes widened and she started whispering conspicuously to Susan and the other Gryffindor girl nearby them. Susan was clearly listening closely, but her eyes stayed on Merissa, a wide smirk across her face.

Affording Susan only a brief glare, Merissa turned back to Abby and James, but before she could start a conversation Mary and the Gryffindor girl let out a loud laugh and Susan continued whispering, loud enough to notice but not to make out words.

Closing her eyes in annoyance, Merissa flicked her wrist inadvertently. A loud crack followed by a shriek made them flash back open and Merissa realized with some pride and some concern (as she had not consciously tried to) that she had made the rock the group of girls were leaning against crack down the middle. The rift had not split the stone but it had apparently frightened Mary enough to let out the loud shriek she had heard and dart away from it. Susan was still just beside it, though unlike Mary and the Gryffindor she wasn't looking at the rock in bemusement and horror but right at Merissa, accusingly. Apparently, even when they were at odds, she recognized Merissa's work when she saw it.

"Odd," Abby murmured as their professor called the class together, the noise enough for her to remember it was time for class, "I've never seen stone just crack like that."

"Hm," James hummed and Merissa swore out of the corner of her eye that he was looking at her. Even if he wasn't as familiar to her magic as Susan was, he did seem to have keen senses and Merissa wouldn't be surprised if this was one of those times when he just knew.

"We're going to be doing diagrams today, but I thought they still might be useful for drawing," Professor Artemene grumbled, "Groups of four, label the important magic uses and aspects to the unicorns. You have the hour."

As the frantic nods and grabbing of hands to secure places in groups began, Merissa's looked around calmly for another person while folding her legs beneath her to sit in the grass between Abby and James, but she was surprised to find that several other pairs of eyes were on her, flickering away when she looked at them. Unspringsingly, Susan and the four other girls circling her were the ones who's stares lingered the most.

"Who's owl did you steal?" Abby hissed to her; Merissa shrugged.

James didn't seemed surprised by this and again Merissa wondered what he might just know, or he might have overheard. Being so quiet, people seemed to think that he couldn't hear what they said around him and for that he was an untold mine for all gossip, little as he might share it.

"That is five Nigellus," Professor Artemene said, shaking her head, "Move with Thorpe."

If Merissa hadn't been so displeased by this turn of events she might have found the shade of scarlet Susan took amusing. One moment she was whispering and laughing with Mary and three other Gryffindors and the next she appeared as if her head had been replaced by a gaping tomato, her mouth opening and closing silently as it searched for words severe enough to describe her indignation.

"But Professor -" Susan began, but Artemene was not a patient woman - at least not with humans.

"No arguing! You have work to do," she snapped, and her finality was so clear that even Susan did not argue any further.

It was unclear which party was less pleased about this arrangement, but Susan (after much dramatics about moving her bag) took a seat on a smaller rock beside them. Once settled she took on staring at the top of Merissa's head, but she was ignored. Merissa was not about to let an enjoyable lesson like today's go to waste because of Susan's immaturity.

"I'll draw," James offered quietly.

"Here," Abby said, handing him a paper, eyes flitting anxiously between her two friends, "So we have the hairs of course, you know that's my wand core? Anyways, yes, and then we have the blood. . ." she listed, using her fingers to count.

"The crushed horn for potions," Merissa added, not allowing her eyes to move from the slightly misshapen creature being drawn by James. She was flexing her hand in her robe pocket to prevent herself from hexing Susan, who had done nothing but glare down her nose at them so far.

"I see you're not quite popular as usual now that there's word of the changes in your life," Susan's voice cut in, still not contributing, though she certainly could have, "I guess you're not nearly as appealing when your light-hearted and airheaded persona is destroyed."

"I am not going to feign interest in whatever rumor you're spreading, Nigellus," Merissa flashed severely, "That's a nice eye James. Let's not forget their tears are incredible healing properties, according to legend."

Susan huffed loudly and recrossed her long legs, clearly impatient for someone to take her bait. She swished back her waist length hair back, her lip turned upward as she took shallow and quick breaths through her nostrils.

"I suppose queen Re will be legend as well, soon enough," she finally sighed, leaning back, trying to seem nonchalant, "No one wants an real ruler."

"Susan, no one knows or cares what you're talking about," Abby snapped, more harshly than Merissa had ever heard her. Her usually bright brown eyes were simmering with anger and her wand, held tightly at her side looked in danger of being raised.

Inwardly, Merissa hoped Abby would think better than to hex Susan, partly because if anyone was going to, it should be Merissa herself and also because Abby had little prowess in dueling, especially compared to Susan's skill. The fight wouldn't be fair to begin with and no one would want to step in, Merissa least of all. Since her lessons with Alphard had ended, she had regressed into a more or less useless state when it came to directing her magic.

"You don't know," Susan feigned surprise, "Well I suppose I always knew she never valued your friendship like she should, but I never thought she would think so low as to keep things from you."

Abby moved to raise her wand, furious, but Merissa stopped her with a firm hand on her arm, "Better not to. Hopefully, if she's like any other parasite she'll die if we don't feed her attention."

Susan sneered, crossing her arms and swishing her hair back again, resigned to being completely unhelpful for the rest of the class.

"Do you know what Susan was talking about?" Merissa asked James as they began the trek back to the castle. Abby had elected to stay behind and help with the unicorns, probably hoping it would calm her some. She had stayed a red even more vibrant than her hair the entire hour, hardly saying a word more than Susan.

James shrugged in response, though whether it was affirmative or not was unclear. Merissa nodded and they both looked back to their boots, crunching in the muddy slush that made up the trail. A loud scream made Merissa's head jerk up in surprise but she found it was just a girl with bright blonde braids tossing snowballs of wet ice at her friend far ahead of them. The friend ducked down to form her own in retaliation but when she came up she was hit by another and instead of hitting her friend she lobbed the snow towards the castle where it hit the thick wall and broke into pieces again. Laughing, the blonde girl took her friend under her arm, only to have a handful of snow shoved down the back of her sweater. The two chased each other into the castle, the heavy doors cutting off the last of their peals of laughter.

Merissa watched them grimly, thinking only of how much they reminded her of Susan and herself only months ago. James, watching her as usual, interpreted her expression easily.

"Will it ever be like that again?" she asked before she could stop herself. She wasn't sure why she did in the first place. She knew James experienced feelings of sorts that were often true, but she held little stock in divination, as evidenced by her dropping the subject halfway through the first class.

James didn't seem taken aback by her question though and answered in a rather tranquil voice the answer that she already knew, "No."

/_\

Hours later, with classes done and dinner being put off, Merissa had been forcing herself to write her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay about Inferir in her usual corner of the library. Making slow but steady progress was not her usual way of working but if she wanted to achieve an 'O' on her least favorite subject (and she did, more than almost anything because she was sure Tom Riddle would) she knew she had to do perfectly on the written as she saw not other score but a 'T' possible for her practical.

Frowning at a word she didn't like much, she lowered her head to lean against the table as she wrote, her brain bouncing off alternatives to replace the offending diction. Huffing in exasperation as it finally came to her, she sat up again, one hand pushing her hair back and other other furiously scratching away at the parchment again. Without the shield of her hair or the table though, she could see the dark figure out of the corner of her eye again, a constant distraction since he had taken a chair a few rows down from her two hours ago. Refusing to allow her eyes to wander over to him she gazed down at the scroll, her mind irritatingly blank now. He wasn't doing anything wrong or suspicious and that made her even angrier. Seated at a table of his own, he was either working quite diligently or putting on an elaborate show of it. In her perpheries, she could see him dipping his quill in his ink pot, putting it to his parchment and glancing up at the book he was apparently using for reference, over and over again, the only break in the cycle to occasionally turn the page. No longer having the patience to stare at an essay that was not going to be finished tonight, she rolled up her parchment and allowed herself to watch him. Tom Riddle did have a rather distinctive profile - she swore she would recognize it anywhere after all the months of glancing over her shoulder expecting to spot it. Even the way he held himself now, sitting among the normalcy of books he attained a poised sort of elegance that before she thought could only be manufactured from immaculate grooming from a young age. It was easy for her to understand why his lie of being pureblood had held so well, even among the vultures of his house. The skill was so clearly second nature to him, maintaining it even as he was so focused, either on spying on her or his studying, she couldn't tell. His book was propped against a lamp, apparently to make it easier for him to read. Merissa wrestled with herself, half of her soothing her that she had seen him read like this before, but the other half demanding she confront him and tell him he wasn't as sneaky as he thought. The book was angled just right that looking at the page and looking at her would be close enough. Riddle glanced up, having the nerve to raise his eyebrows at her glare and turn back to his reading. He wasn't able to contain all of his smirk however, giving himself away.

She swung her bag onto her shoulder, refusing to play this cat-and-mouse game with him any longer. Strutting over, she used one hand to make a chair zip from across the table to her and the other to lower herself into it, parking herself right across the table from him. Her show of magic seemed to have the intended effect as he appeared rather impressed, setting down his quill.

"Isn't the purpose of having underlings so that they can do your spying for you?" she asked, tapping the book with her index finger.

"Certainly," he agreed, lowering the text onto the table, "I wasn't spying."

"I'm not that simple, Riddle," she told him, snatching the book up, "This is a fourth year spell book. One I'm sure you mastered your first year."

Another smirk was tugging on the corners of his mouth, "You certainly are not simple," he agreed, making her frown, "I was observing."

"Observing what?" she demanded. It was unlike him to have lasted this long on conversation without insulting her, and now he had missed her invitation to do so. She examined his face carefully, but could not find any cause for suspicion. He looked perfectly calm and collected.

"I'm observing you," he repeated, returning to his paper. He had them scattered on the table, making Merissa feel like she might have an aneurysm. She imagined if someone walked by too fast how the all might rustle. One might even fall onto the ground. She couldn't imagine working like this.

"No, you didn't take that opportunity to deny my intelligence," she clarified, feeling like making her repeat herself might be a way of proving this exactly.

"I do not think you are simple, Thorpe," he explained, continuing to write his essay (which she noted looked slightly longer than hers), "That would be simple of me."

"Hmph," she grunted, her narrow eyes returning to his mess of papers, "How do you study like that?"

"Easily," he retorted, pulling some papers away from her as if he thought she might try to steal them, which admittedly had been on her mind. Would serve him right for not even having them in an orderly pile.

"It drives me barmy just looking at it," she said, down her nose, "Take this," she fished out one of the empty notebooks she had gotten from Abraxas out of her bag and tossed it at him. It didn't hit him in the face like she had hoped but instead was caught by a surprisingly agile hand.

"What is this?" he asked, turning it over with his long fingers. The book didn't appear dangerous, but he would never put an ambush past anyone, her least of all. The binding was a rich black leather, which he rather liked.

"A notebook," she stated, standing up, "It's how civilized people take notes. You should use it, despite not being one."

To her surprise, he didn't snap any comebacks at her as she swaggered away, only watched her with something that on any other face might have been mistaken for humor, journal still held in his hands.