If I have made any language errors, please let me know in a review or PM so I can fix it. Thank you!

"Oi, are you listening to me?"

George snapped his head up, his eyes meeting Fred's, who was watching him rather incredulously, two large bags of crisps in his hands. "What? Oh... no."

Fred rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, sighing. "Typical of you, Georgie. Okay, should we get barbeque—" He held up the first bag, shaking it. "—or cheeseburger flavour?"

"Cheeseburger flavoured crisps?" George asked, snatching the second bag from his hand and scrutinizing it. "Well, I'll be damned."

They had been in Caen, Normandy for past few days, poking out at night every so often to purchase food and toiletries from dilapidated French convenience stores before Disapparating back to the abandoned farmhouse they had been holed up in together in the countryside. They could never stay in any one place too long, with both French Aurors and Dementors actively searching for British defectors and refugees. If they were caught, they would be sent right back, and likely placed into Azkaban for treason.

"I think we should get cheeseburger," Fred continued, tossing the barbeque chips back on the store shelf. "You know, it being limited edition and all."

"Excellent choice, old boy. Pop it in." George replied, and Fred placed the chips in their hand-held shopping basket, which also held a few cheap sausages, a loaf of sliced bread, a tube of toothpaste, a pack of liquorish, some gummy candies, and a small carton of chocolate milk. "I've got to remind myself to stop shopping for groceries with you. Mum would have a heart attack if she looked in this basket."

"What?" Fred said defensively as they turned and made for the cash register together. "Mate, if we get deported tomorrow, then I want to have had the full French Muggle experience."

"How much money have we got left?"

"Well, I've got some Galleons... but as for Euros, we're running kind of low." he said, chewing his cheek. "Oh... hello."

They approached the cashier together—a young, pretty woman with long brown hair and a miserable expression as she read a magazine absent-mindedly.

"Bonsoir," Fred said charmingly, leaning against the counter.

"Bonsoir," the girl replied monotonously, running their items under some kind of red light, causing the machine next to her to emit a series of loud beeps. "Avec ceci?"

"Erm—" Fred glanced at George, who shrugged in reply. "Oui?"

She nodded and began bagging their items. "Dix-sept soixante, s'il vous plaît,"

Fred nodded quickly, digging a small pouch out of his jeans pocket and rummaging through it, looking for Euro notes and coins. "Dix-sept soixante..." he muttered under his breath. "Dix... that's ten... sept is... wait..."

"Êtes-vous Américain?" she asked as she began bagging their items, now gazing at them rather curiously.

"No," George replied before Fred could open his mouth. "British... erm... Britannique,"

"Visiting family?" she asked.

George shrugged. "Something like that,"

"Zis is so late to be snacking!" she said, looking rather unimpressed as Fred struggled to count their coins. "Are you boys twins?"

Fred smirked as he pulled out a ten Euro note and set it on the counter along with some coins. "No... we met in a bar the other day."

"Why?" George continued. "Do you think we look alike?"

"Ah," She shook her head as she rummaged through the register, frowning. "You tease me. You do not have to do zat,"

"You made it too easy, mademoiselle." Fred said with a wink as he took their bagged items from her. "Have a good night."

"Looks like the overnight shift isn't treating her all that well," George said as they exited the convenience store, making their way down the dark street, lit only by a few dim street lamps.

"She reminds me of Verity, actually," Fred mused, glancing back at his brother. "I think it was the perpetual glare she had—d'you feel that?"

Fred had halted in front of him, looking oddly stiff. George knew why. A faint mist had cast itself over the ground, and a chill prickled at their skin, as though they were in the dead of winter.

"Dementors." George muttered, and Fred nodded.

"No Patronuses," he muttered. "I don't want any Aurors skulking around knowing we're here."

"Then let's get going." George held out his arm, which Fred immediately latched onto. They Disapparated from the darkened street with a crack, and after a few moments of uncomfortable pressure pressing down on them from all sides their feet hit the stiff, frozen ground in the middle of an abandoned field, a forlorn and neglected wooden shack sitting atop a nearby hill. The twins approached it quickly, wands drawn, and knocked twice on the door.

"Who's there?" a voice called from within.

"Gred and Forge, come to ransack your room and steal your girl." Fred replied.

The door opened ever so slightly, a single brown eye peering out the crack. "Sorry, but this residence strictly prohibits chavs,"

Fred held up the plastic bag, smirking. "Even if they've got food?"

"Sweet," Lee stepped aside, allowing them inside. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he snatched the bag out of Fred's grasp. "Now, what've we got here..."

"Oi! No need to get all grabby!" Fred snapped, making a grab for the plastic handles.

"What monstrosity is this?" Lee said disgustedly, plucking out the bag of cheeseburger crisps. "See, Fred, this is why you're not allowed to leave the house more often."

"They're limited edition, mate. We had to get them." George mused as Lee viciously tore open the bag and tossed one into his mouth.

"Hm," Lee shrugged as he strode across the dusty sitting room and opened a creaking wooden door. "Well, it's about as close to a burger as I've gotten to in the last two months."

"Our work is thankless, as usual," Fred said in an undertone as Lee left, rummaging through their newly-purchased goods and sinking into the loveseat on the other side of the room. Curious as to what Lee was up to, George followed him into the bedroom.

The room was small and narrow, occupied only by a filthy mattress, a rotting old desk, and a strange, framed Muggle picture of an eerie old woman that hung on the wall. Lee was settled at the desk, where he had placed a large metal transceiver with several knobs and a microphone. Sprawled out in front of him was a flurry of newspapers, letters, and notes from various senders, including Aurors and Order members.

"God, it smells like shit here," George said.

"As opposed to what?" Lee asked absently, continuing to jot down notes onto parchment. "Masturbation and loneliness?"

"All right, smartass," George punched Lee's head lightly. "How's the list?"

"About twenty nameable people so far. It's difficult with Death Eaters covering it up so well, but the Order's been a big help. I don't think we can keep going with all the Muggles, there's too many of them to name in a single broadcast. Sticking to family names might not be so bad though, even if we can't individually name each of them."

George leaned over his shoulder and read the death list he was compiling. "What's this from?"

"Most are from mid-September 'til now, but there's a few more from over the summer that have been brought to my attention."

"Hm," George said. As he was about to turn away, he jolted back, staring intently. "Lee."

"Yeah?"

George stuck his finger at two names. "Look,"

Lee glanced at the names, only for his eyebrows to contract. "You know them?"

"I think so," George picked up the list, squinting at the names. "I feel like... like Nina's mentioned them before. But I don't remember from where. How did they die?"

"Mmm, hold on," Lee muttered, shuffling through the stacks of paper. His eyes were bloodshot and encompassed in dark shadows. "What're their last names?"

"Ackermann."

"Oh, yeah," Lee perked up. "They were killed in a raid by Death Eaters. They were Order supporters, hiding out with a few other witches and wizards in east London. From what I heard, it was really nasty."

George pursed his lips. "Hm,"

"Maybe give her a call and ask?"

He shook his head, handing the death list back to Lee. It was almost one o'clock in the morning; if he knew Nina at all, then it was safe to assume she was getting enough sleepless nights without him intruding on them. He hadn't spoken to her in a week, and it was killing him; she had promised to contact him when she was confident that no one would intrude on their conversation on her end. "I think I'll let her sleep... maybe give her a call on Saturday after the broadcast."

"D'you think the D.A. has been busy lately?" Lee mused. "With the Carrows and all?"

George chuckled. While there was no telling what they were up to, trouble seemed to revolve around Harry, Ron, and Hermione alone. Surely with them out of the equation, things were more peaceful at Hogwarts. "Nah."

During the day following Neville, Ginny, and Luna's rescues from the Dark Forest, the entire student body felt completely and blissfully untouchable.

It was a Friday, and the D.A. was scheduled to meet that very evening, aggravating an exceptionally exhausted Nina. After sneaking into the castle with Ernie and Seamus using a Disillusionment Charm, Nina departed ways from them and snuck off to the common room showers, washing away the dirt, blood, and grime that caked her skin. Under the heat of the water, the open gash that ran across her lips and chin pulsated with pain, and she wondered how she was going to explain obtaining the injury to anyone who asked without arousing suspicion.

Upon arriving at breakfast and settling at the Slytherin table, she discovered that many students at the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables were all whispering and muttering more so than usual. As she began to help herself to a large, heaping breakfast of pancakes, bacon, yogurt, and a large bowl of fruit, the entire Great Hall seemed to have erupted all at once. A large number of students had jumped to their feet and began to cheer and whistle loudly. Students all along the Slytherin table—including Nina—jumped in their seats and gawked around, searching for the source of the commotion. And then, as soon as she saw them, the reason for their excitement all fell into place: Neville, Ginny, and Luna had all walked into the room, still extremely dirty and dishevelled, holding their wands high up in the air. At the staff table, a number of teachers were looking positively sick with happiness, relief, and smugness. The Carrows, on the other hand, looked downright murderous.

Despite her exhaustion, Nina couldn't help but feel strangely energized for the rest of the day. Alecto had looked at her strangely upon seeing her split lip during first period, but Nina had no issue with lying to her and making up some wild story about how she had tripped over Millicent's cat and banged her lip on a desk. Blaise seemed so amused by the idea that he even vouched for her, causing Alecto to stalk away angrily. For the first time in what felt like forever, she actually exchanged a grin with him.

"Nina,"

She was being shaken awake, and upon opening her eyes Ginny's familiar face came into view, smacking her lightly on the cheek. She stared around, confused, until she realized that she was in the Room of Requirement. She bolted upright. "What's happening?" she demanded, desperately trying to get a hold of her bearings. She had been lying down on a stack of throe pillows. "What—what day is it?"

Ginny laughed. "Jam your hype, won't you? Everything's fine; more than fine, actually. You passed out here six hours ago."

Nina rubbed her eyes, feeling uncannily dizzy. "I did?"

"Oh, yeah," she said enthusiastically. "You made it through a whole day of classes and then disappeared with the boys. I figured you all came up here."

Looking round, Nina noted that she was indeed not the only one to have fallen asleep in the Room. A small ways away was Neville, curled up on a mattress that had appeared for him and a blanket twisted around his feet. Nearby were Seamus and Ernie, who had fallen asleep together, cuddling each other comically in their sleep.

"Luna's bringing some food up for you lot. Granted, I had to ask her not to just heap it into her pockets like she sometimes does..."

Nina nodded slowly. "Have you gotten any sleep, Ginny?"

She shook her head. "No. Haven't really gotten sleepy yet, though. That night in the forest really energized me."

"Well, speak for yourself," Nina yawned, falling back into her mountain of pillows. "I never want to wake up again."

"Even for Potterwatch?"

Immediately, Nina's eyes snapped open.

"Their new broadcast is going on tonight," Ginny continued, twisting her locks of long, red hair. "Forgot, did you?"

"I—well... yes." she said slowly, frowning. She hadn't been in contact with George for days, what with their heist in Dumbledore's office and her friends' rescue from the forest weighing down on her mind.

"Everyone will be here soon so we can all listen in; Luna and I have been going around and reminding them." she said, peering over her shoulder. "Speaking of which,"

"Hello, Nina!" Luna called cheerfully as she drifted into the room, levitating four large plates of food above her head. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I decided to get you a bit of everything."

Nina grinned as Ginny passed her an enormous plate of food. To her mild disgust, Luna had quite literally piled a number of strange dishes on top of each other. Roast beef and yam with gelatin dessert, mashed potatoes and vanilla pudding, toast with baked plum and salt, blood pudding with ice cream, and spinach with baked angel food cake were all mingled together.

"Rise and shine, blokes!" Ginny yelled, walking around and prodding the boys in the head with her foot. "Luna's gone to the liberty of fetching you lazy bums supper,"

"Oi!" Seamus moaned, rousing from his sleep. "This lazy bum just so happened to save your life from giant, man-eating spiders,"

"It was very brave," Luna said airily, handing him his large plate of food. "Come on, Ernie, you take one too..."

"Great Scott," Ernie whispered dramatically once he caught sight of the plate. "Is that... cherry pie and spaghetti?"

"Oh, no, Luna," Seamus groaned as he sat up, taking the plate he handed her.

"C'mon, Seamus. You eat food from the Great Hall all the bloody time," Ginny said, though she seemed to be struggling to bite back the urge to laugh.

"But not like this, Ginny!" Seamus exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at his plate. "Not like this!"

Nina, despite her revulsion, immediately began scarfing down every morsel of food she could fit into her mouth; breakfast seemed to have been ages ago, and she noticed that she had been losing a little bit too much weight for her liking.

Over the next few hours, members of the D.A. trickled into the Room of Requirement, and Nina found herself rather taken aback at how many people were looking at her in a new, impressed sort of way, as though noticing her for the first time. Even Anthony and Michael looked a little less irked by her presence now. Nina spent the evening waving people away and keeping her sentences as short and to-the-point as possible, despite being unable to keep a giddy grin off of her face. Ernie and Seamus, however, were soaking up their adoration rather liberally and unabashedly.

"Brimstone!" Ritchie Coote called out to her upon entering with his fellow fifth-years. "Is it true, what we've been hearing? About all those spiders?"

"Damn right it's true," Seamus piped up, looking rather impressed with himself. "Brimstone here conjured up a flying car for us, if you can believe it."

"No way!" Devesh whispered in disbelief, staring wide-eyed at Nina. "Is that right?"

Nina smiled bashfully and nodded. "It wasn't a big deal. It was George who told me about it. George Weasley,"

"Is he your boyfriend?" Ritchie quipped.

Upon seeing her nod, Jimmy Peakes snorted, nudging Jason Lau with his elbow. "Y'hear that, lover boy? I told you she was taken."

"Shut up," Jason hissed, smacking his mate over the shoulder as his cheeks flushed a deep red.

Nina chuckled, shaking her head. First Neville, then George, and then Seamus… if another Gryffindor boy tried to kiss her, she figured that she would start to lose her damn mind. "Broadcast is starting soon. Why don't you lot go and get comfortable?"

"Sure thing, lieutenant," Jimmy smirked, saluting her.

"You've… you've done good, Brimstone," Jason muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to keep up with his friends.

"Oi, Neville!" Ernie's voice rang out, and Nina saw that he was crouched next to the radio, fiddling with the knobs. "What's the password again?"

"'Moody,'" Neville called back. "Like the Auror. When're they going live?"

"About two minutes."

"All right, everyone," Neville shouted over the throngs of excited, chatting students. "Start quieting down and taking seats—that includes you, Coote,"

As Nina scooted next to the radio, she noticed how much more confident Neville had been acting since their escape from the forest that previous night, his usual mild-mannered self retreating behind a wall of authority and leadership.

As Ernie twisted the knob on the radio, static filled the air, and with a point of his wand he muttered, "Moody,"

The static intensified for a moment as everyone leaned in, craning to hear the distant, squeaking voices amidst the white noise.

"Hello? Hello, hell—there we go!" came the voice of Lee, and nearby Seamus whooped triumphantly. Nina breathed a sigh of relief. "Welcome, listeners, to another instalment of Potterwatch, dedicated solely to Order members, Potter supporters, or anyone out on the run from our friendly neighbourhood Death Eaters. I'm your host, River, and I'm here with my usual co-host, Rodent—"

"God damn it, if you call me 'Rodent' one more time, River... it's Rapier."

"—and introducing our tech supervisor, slash other co-host, slash most holey man in all of Britain, Roman."

"Top of the mornin' to yeh," came George's voice from somewhere in the background, and Nina felt her heart flutter.

"We've got the usual reminders for all you special little dumplings, including that of the taboo currently cast on Britain over You-Know-Who's name—so unless you're completely out of western Europe, kindly restrain yourselves from using the name, because it's jinxed," Lee said. "It's been quiet for the most part in the wizarding world, but that doesn't mean there hasn't been sneaky fighting on both sides."

"Too true," Fred cut in. "While the Daily Prophet has been avoiding the subject of Harry Potter's recent trip to the Ministry like Spattergroit, we are pleased to inform our listeners that not every published magazine is bowing down like cowards in the face of adversity. The Quibbler remains one of the only media outlets that has been adamant to speak the truth about this war, and for that we must commend it,"

"Exactly," Lee said excitedly. "And it's not just the Order and a select few magazines who are fighting back. Word has come to us that even at Hogwarts, which is currently under the reign of Snape and the Carrows, students are fighting back against their tyranny. We'll be keeping names on the down-low, of course, but their courage inspires us all to have faith in the rebellion; in Harry Potter."

"Couldn't have spoken truer words myself, River," Fred said. "But, like all wars, there have been casualties. And as we end our broadcast—which we regret to inform will be shorter this time around—we would like to pay tribute to those who have most recently perished at the hand of You-Know-Who and his band of pathetic followers. Roman?"

"Right," came George's voice, which carried a note of sorrow. "As we all know, many Muggleborns, Potter supporters, and other undesirables in the eyes of the Ministry have gone out on the run this year, fearing Death Eater persecution. Any who are not of any significant blood-status and who fail report to the Muggleborn Registration Commission are forced to go on the run and spend their days avoiding Snatchers and Death Eaters. In addition, many Muggleborn students who were supposed to return to Hogwarts this year have been marked for death.

"It is our greatest regret to inform our listeners," George continued. "Of the recent deaths of three Muggleborn students who did not return to Hogwarts this year: Mafalda Prewett, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and—"

"NO!" Ernie, Hannah, and Susan screamed, cutting off the rest of George's words.

"Wait—" Neville began calmly in sort of attempt at consoling them into silence, but the Hufflepuffs did not waver. Ernie was frozen in horror. Hannah and Susan wailed in anguish.

"You guys, please be quiet!" Nina cried. She felt awful for saying it, but amidst their grief she and the rest of the D.A. were still craning the rest of the names and praying their loved ones weren't the next to be mentioned.

"—bodies were found by Rutland Muggle law enforcement nearby a large water reservoir. The Order of Phoenix speculates that this murder was orchestrated by Death Eaters, as Snatchers would have most likely sold them off to the Muggleborn Registration Commission rather than kill them."

The Hufflepuffs seemed to have reached their threshold for information. Susan covered her ears while Hannah sobbed into Ernie's shoulder, both of them trembling. Nina bit her lip, also shaking; Mafalda had been a friend of hers since their third year.

"A family of Muggles were also recently discovered in East Sussex, England. They had seemed to have been on a camping trip, according to Muggle authorities, and had appeared to have been ravaged by some kind of animal. This has left police befuddled, as there have been no wolf or bear sightings in England for hundreds of years. Again, we can only speculate, but it sounds to me like the work of Fenrir Greyback."

"Undoubtedly," Fred cut in morbidly. "Some innocent family out for a weekend camping trip would seem like an easy target, wouldn't they? If you're currently avoiding Snatchers and wizarding authorities like we are, then we recommend you take extra caution in the woods, as they can harbour a fair few unsightly foes."

"And finally," George said with a sigh. "A makeshift group of Order of the Phoenix members and supporters was recently murdered in London. They were holed up in a flat just outside of the city, frequently assisting the Order and gaining information for them. Less than a week ago, Death Eaters found them and took it upon themselves to get rid of them. With heavy hearts, we commend the efforts and bravery of Alfred Cresswell, Frank Truelove, and Felix Ackermann and his wife, Jasmine Ackermann, all of whom showed unwavering courage..."

All at once, everything seemed to have become oddly still as Nina felt a swooping numbness take over her entire body. Had she heard those last two names correctly? Felix Ackermann, and his wife Jasmine...? Suddenly, Nora's voice was swimming in her ear.

My sister... Jasmine, remember? She and her husband Felix are staying... typical Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. Always gotta show off...

Nina clapped her hand over her mouth. That couldn't be right. Jasmine and Felix, part of the family that had been taking her in since the end of her second year... dead? Gone? Murdered?

"We thank you all for listening to the October installment of Potterwatch," Lee was speaking again, though his voice sounded oddly distant. "Join us again in one month's time for more updates on Harry Potter. The password for next time will be 'Muggle'. Keep fighting, and have faith. Long live Harry Potter!"

His voice dissolved into white noise, and Nina noticed how much more apprehensive and solemn the occupants of the Room were this time around than during the last broadcast. The Hufflepuffs were quivering nearby, weeping as they clung to each other, unable to fully accept that their fellow seventh-year had been murdered, his body defiled and abandoned...

"Did you know anyone, Nina?" Someone placed their hand on her shoulder, and Nina turned to find Ginny, whose voice was uncannily softer than it usually was.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice muffled by her hand.

Ginny rubbed her back sympathetically. And then, after a few moment of silence, Nina's head shot up. She thrust her hand into her skirt pocket and drew out the Extendible Ear, whispering the password into it eagerly.

"Nina?" George answered after a few moments.

"George, I'm with the D.A., we've just heard the broadcast... can you talk?" she said. Nearby, members looked round curiously, some of them crowding around her to listen in to the conversation.

"We're packing up to leave now, but we should be okay for a few minutes," George said anxiously. "How are you? Are you—?"

"I need you to tell me about the last two people you mentioned," She said quickly, her heart thumping in her chest. "How did they die? Do you know what... what they looked like?"

On the other end, George sighed. "Nina... we use the information the Order gives us, we don't always know all that much about the actual victims."

"You must know something," she pressed. "George, they were... they were Nora's sister and brother-in-law."

"You're joking," he whispered. "Damn it. I knew I recognized the names from somewhere..."

"What happened to them?"

He sighed, and for the first time she noticed how much of his usual humour had been drained away. "The only reason the Order knew it was them at all is because their wands were still intact. When they showed up after the Death Eaters had left, the house was a mess. Jasmine and Felix were in the sitting room, but... but they were everywhere. Bits of them. They were blown to pieces."

Nina held the Ear, trembling. Jasmine and Felix had set out to support Harry and fight back against Voldemort. Nora had long since escaped to India with her parents, but did they have any idea of what had happened to them? What the cost of supporting the Order of the Phoenix had been? If this was the treatment that they and countless others had received... then what kind of chance would she ever have of seeing this war through until the end?

She had been craving some time spent away from Hogwarts and the D.A. for weeks before the opportunity actually came again. The fate of Jasmine and Felix had been constantly weighing down on her mind since the end of the Potterwatch broadcast, and the D.A. had agreed to postpone their meetings until the beginning of November.

Seeking some sort of solace from the war, Nina set out to the courtyard with Blaise the next day, intent on focusing solely on the usual light-heartedness of their friendship.

"Where do you want to go today?" she said excitedly as they made for the line-up towards Filch, who was checking off signed Hogsmeade permission slips. With Quidditch having been cancelled by the Carrows out of spite in Neville, Ginny, and Luna's return from the forest, Hogsmeade trips were just about the only salvation had from Hogwarts.

"Not sure, but I could sure use a drink," Blaise said, his eyes lighting up. "We're old enough to order Firewhiskey now."

Nina grinned at him. "I want to visit Honeydukes too, there's a new—"

"Blaise!" a voice called from the distance, cutting her off. "BLAIIISE!"

"Sweet, suffering succotash," Blaise whispered, his eyes widening in horror as he gazed around, terrified. "How the hell did he find me?"

Nina couldn't help but laugh as Blaise, always so cold and indifferent, attempted to hide behind her as Ibrahim came bolting from the castle, waving what appeared to be a piece of parchment high above his head.

"Go away, Abe-shit!" Blaise snapped, peering down at him disgustedly. "No first-years allowed at Hogsmeade!"

"Yes, I'm aware, you ingrate," Ibrahim replied coolly, his sneer so impressively twisted that it would give even Malfoy a run for his money. "Professor Carrow told me to give this to you."

"Hello, Ibrahim," Nina greeted.

Ibrahim glared at her for a moment, saying nothing, before turning on his feel strutting back into the castle.

"Did you see that?" she stared after his figure, mouth agape. "Blaise! I think he's starting to like me!"

"Well, if that's the case, then may God help you," he mumbled, reading the note. "What in the hell is this rubbish?"

"What?" she asked curiously, trying to get a glance at the parchment.

"It's the Carrows," he replied, holding it out of her reach. "They're restarting the Inquisitorial Squad. 'All Slytherins and Dark Lord supporters welcome'."

"Oh,"

"Yeah, oh. Now I'll be spending my evenings chasing after Longbottom and the rest of Potter's cronies." He crumbled up the parchment and tossed it to the ground, sighing. "Bloody perfect."

Nina said nothing as they handed their permission slips to Filch. Perhaps it would be a good idea to join in with the Inquisitorial Squad, as it would give the D.A. inside information and a significant advantage ahead of time. Then again, if she were ever found out, she would find herself in an exceptionally dangerous position.

They spent the next fifteen minutes chatting; not about Death Eaters, or Nora, or the war. Just talking like they used to, about Quidditch and how much Ibrahim made them want to give themselves lobotomies so they didn't have to listen to him anymore. As they came to the bustling, warm building of the Three Broomsticks, they spotted two large, familiar figures standing at the entranceway. Next to her, Blaise groaned.

"Don't be so mean," she scolded in a low voice.

"How can I not be? They're idiots." he hissed back.

While there was no arguing with him there, Nina mustered up her cheer and greeted, "Hello, you two!"

As she spoke, Crabbe and Goyle caught sight of her, their eyes narrowing in unison. As Blaise made to open the door, they stepped in front of it, blocking their entryway.

"Brimstone," Crabbe sneered down at her, and Nina blinked, taken aback. As far as she knew, she had always been on very good terms with the both of them.

"Hello," she said tentatively, exchanging a nervous glance with Blaise.

"Let's chat a bit, yeah?" Crabbe said, laying an enormous hand on her shoulder and pulling her away from Blaise. She looked to him for help, but he merely shrugged.

Damn traitor, she thought angrily.

"I'll go get us a table," Blaise said, meandering inside.

"Yeah, thanks," she bit back angrily as Crabbe pushed her towards an alleyway that led to the back of the building.

"We interruptin' somefink?" Goyle grunted once the three of them were alone, shoving her into a trashcan. She tumbled into it and toppled to the ground, grasping her robes in search of her wand. "Ah, ah, ah... not so fast,"

"What do you two think you're doing?!" Nina snapped as they drew their wands on her. "Leave me alone!"

"You been fraternizing wiff the wrong lot, 'aven't you, Brimstone?" Crabbe sneered.

Nina glared at him. "No."

They didn't seem to have heard her. "We've been lettin' it slide, y'know, wiff you and Weaselbees. Been lettin' it slide for years,"

"Years," Goyle agreed.

"An' we've been thinkin', Goyle and me, 'bout you an' your ickle boyfriend,"

"I don't have a boyfriend, Crabbe."

"But you 'ave!" Crabbe snarled. "Longbottom an' Weaselbee. Half the Gryffindor population's been through you by now, I reckon,"

"That's two people," Nina said, irritated, now shakily getting to her feet. The trash bin that had collapsed next to her reeked of spoiled meat. "And I mean I don't have a boyfriend as of now. Weasley and I broke up,"

They both stared at her uncomfortably, and she wasn't sure whether they saw through her lie or were still processing what she had just said.

"Broke up?" Goyle said.

"Yes. We've broken up." Nina said patiently.

"Then where are you always going?" Crabbe said, crossing his arms and looming over her.

"Yes, Brimstone," came another, more feminine voice. Nina felt horror bubble up inside of her, and Pansy Parkinson squeezed in next to Crabbe and Goyle, Theodore Nott following closely behind. "Where are you always going?"

Have they all been planning this? she thought, staring at the four Slytherins apprehensively. She doubted Crabbe and Goyle could have orchestrated this without coercion from someone smarter than them, and she would bet anything that Pansy was behind their cruel intentions.

"Always so late coming up to the dorms." Pansy continued in a sweet, babyish voice. "Always gone when the rest of us wake up,"

"And when have you ever cared how late or early I come and go, Pansy?" she replied coolly.

"Too true," she continued, scanning Nina's face. "But I can't help but wonder if you might be going places... doing things... you ought not to," She reached up and placed a cold finger onto Nina's upper lip, tracing the raw, aching cut that was there from when the Ford Anglia crashed. Nina clenched her teeth to keep herself from flinching. "Curious little cut you've got here,"

"I slipped in the shower." she said stonily, not breaking her gaze away from Pansy's olive eyes.

"A likely story," she whispered, drawing her icy finger away from her face and turning round, her black cloak twisting elegantly behind her. "Make sure she gets a reminder of where her loyalties should lie,"

As Pansy marched away, Nina drew her wand, but with a flourish of Nott's wand it flew out of her grip. She desperately tried to duck out of the alleyway, but Goyle grabbed her by the elbows, his powerful grip crushing her. She clutched her teeth as Nott and Crabbe closed in on her, shutting her eyes as tightly as she could, every fibre of her being despising Pansy for she had done to her...

Five minutes later, Nina staggered into the Three Broomsticks and teetered into the seat across from Blaise in a far off corner.

"Took you long enough, I thought you were—oh shit,"

"Yeah," she mumbled, wiping a trickle of blood away from her nostril. Her entire face and stomach ached, and she could tell by the swelling on her eye that Nott had blackened it. "Thanks for backing me up, Zabini."

Blaise looked rather offended at this. "Hey, I'm not going to put my reputation on the line just because you've been involved in doing Merlin knows what. And look, I don't really care what kind of extracurricular activities you've been doing. Frankly, I don't want to know, just so if I'm ever questioned, they can't get an answer out of me. That's all on you," He said, taking a swig of Butterbeer. "But as a word of advice, keep your head down, or it's going to get blown off."

"I've been trying," she said, wiping the blood away from her lip with a napkin and flinching.

"Well, obviously you haven't been trying hard enough. You spend all your time trying to do what's good,"

Nina looked away from him. "That's so relative."

"What is?"

"That concept of good and evil. Right and wrong. I don't care about that, Blaise, I haven't for a while,"

Blaise set down his beer, a single eyebrow arched, his interest piqued. "Go on,"

"I don't know what side is the winning one anymore," she muttered. "I don't know if I'll ever achieve that happy ending I've been wanting for so long. But if I can see the people I love after all this is done, then... then it will have been enough. That's all I want."

"To survive."

She nodded.

Blaise leaned back, looking over her approvingly. "This whole time I've been thinking that you were trying to be noble."

Nina shook her head, picking at her nails. "I'm doing it for myself. I don't want to be alone again."

"Hm. Speaking of self-preserving, I say we split." Blaise muttered, downing the rest of his drink as a gaggle of Slytherin girls entered the bar, Pansy screeching with laughter at a joke Daphne had just told her.

"There's the Hog's Head, nobody would bother us there." Nina suggested.

"That's because it smells like armpit in there," Blaise said disdainfully. "But I'll take it."

They left the Three Broomsticks with haste, and Pansy shot Nina a smirk as they passed her by. They followed the long, cobbled road that led away from the bright, decorated windows of establishments like Honeydukes and Zonko's and into the seedier part of the village. They turned up into a side street, where a decrepit-looking building sat, a large wooden sign that swung on an old bracket hanging above the door. As they entered the building, Nina heard Blaise's distinct groan beside her, and she knew why. The Hog's Head was—to her recollection—the filthiest place she had ever stepped foot into. It smelled very clearly like a barn, with a very smoky element to it. The large bay windows behind them were caked in a thick layer of grime and dust, and the floor was so coated in dirt that she couldn't tell whether it was hardwood or tiled. Due to it being the afternoon, the bar was completely empty apart from a wizened old man in the corner and a witch sitting at the bar.

"What's on the menu?" Blaise muttered, and she shrugged, stepping up to the counter. "Good God, what the hell is Hog's Head Brew?"

"Might become your new favourite drink," Nina giggled as the barkeep stepped up to her, clearing his throat loudly. Her smile melted away as he glared at her. "Er—a Hog's Head Brew, please," she said quickly.

Blaise snorted.

"Make that two, actually," She glared back at Blaise.

Upon receiving their drinks, the two of them sat at the bar, Blaise wriggling uncomfortably on his stool as he did so.

"If this stool ruins my new robes, you're buying me new ones," he sneered, staring suspiciously at his drink. "And what if we get mugged in here?"

"We won't get mugged, it's not even two o'clock yet." Nina said. Even with her reputation of being neurotic, she thought Blaise was going a bit overboard.

"I think you're forgetting where we are," he hissed. "Let's just... just get out of here, all right? That witch is listening to us."

Nina glanced backwards to the hooded, hooked-nose witch he was referring to. She was crouched over her drink and staring at the counter, the majority of her face concealed by her hair and cloak. "Blaise, stop it. You're worrying too much, all right?"

But Blaise shook his head adamantly and rose from his stool, his eyes darting around the bar. "No. I'm leaving, I don't like this place..."

"Oh, you are such a chicken!" she snapped as he made for the exit. She reached into her cloak pocket, digging around for her coins, when the scraping of a stool nearby seized her attention. The witch had gotten to her feet and sprung towards her, and Nina let out a small scream as she wrapped her hand around her wrist, her long nails scraping against her skin.

"Hey—" Blaise snapped, staying back and reaching for his wand. However, he halted midway, his eyes widening.

"Let me go!" Nina huffed, ripping away from the witch's grasp and tumbling backwards, Blaise having to catch her to prevent her from falling to the floor. Immediately, she tried making for the exit, desperate to escape the bar, but Blaise was holding her back, his eyes trained on the witch.

"Nina,"

The voice belonged not to Blaise, but the witch, whose hand was outstretched towards her. Nina squinted at her. She was clad in a long black travelling cloak and her thick, dark hair didn't reach her shoulders. Her cheeks were hollow and brows thick, and her crooked nose had a long, scabbing scar than ran across the bridge. She almost turned back around, frightened by the look this stranger was giving her, her green eyes so filled with emotion...

She dropped the coins she was holding, and with a few soft thumps they fell against the filthy wooden floor. She gripped Blaise's shoulder, steadying herself, trying to blink away the figure before her, who certainly could not be there, who was surely an illusion.

It was Nora.

Thank you to hermionestwin, Ginnylove12, cyrus010, Meyla Liz, Shizuka Kitsune, SableUnstable, 534667lc, and sarahmichellegellarfan1 for your reviews! Your support really inspired me to write faster (:

I apologize for the very expositional chapter. Things should pick up from here on out. Thanks for reading! I will try to update again on Friday.