Elizabeth stared out the window as families bid their children farewell. She just wanted the train to move already. She hated the waiting. The more students boarded the train, the slimmer her chances of having a compartment to herself became.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the train finally started moving. Her joy was short lived, however, when a student opened the compartment door.

"Are you saving these seats for anyone?" A boy with a mess of bright red hair panted.

Liz cast a sharp glance his way. She didn't want to speak to anyone. "No," she said flatly.

"Mind if we join you? Couple of mates an' I are late is all and pretty much everyone else is taken." The boy explained quickly. "I'm Fred, by the way."

Ah yes, Fred Weasley, Liz thought bitterly. The one named after his uncle. She should have realized he was a Weasley just from the hair. Liz restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Of course the chosen family and his friends would sit with her.

"Not very talkative, are you?"

"Fred! Don't be rude!" A blonde girl rushed up to them. "Sorry about him."

Liz went back to staring out the window and shrugged. Dominique Weasley- part Veela, effortlessly gorgeous, and smart as a whip. Yeah, Liz knew exactly who she was.

Dominique was followed by two others. A boy with wild, sandy blonde hair, and a wide grin, and a tall black-haired boy who's slightly awkward smile was unmistakeable.

"Almost missed it," the blonde boy panted. "Mum threatened to send me a howler today already."

"Why?" Dominique raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow in amusement.

"I lost track of Simon and we spent half the morning looking for him."

Liz glanced over at the blonde boy. He was all bouncing heels and reckless energy. "Simon your brother?" Liz asked as the corner of her lip twitched.

"My spider," the blonde boy lifted a cage he'd been carrying. "Got him just this summer!"

"Holy shit, Jericho, get that thing away from me!" Dominique cried, holding her hands in front of her face.

"He's cute!"

"Stop it!"

"He won't hurt you," the blonde boy, Jericho, sat down opposite Dominique and grinned. The dark-haired boy soon followed in the compartment, rendering it almost full.

"Heya," he offered Liz a gentle smile. "I'm Albus. My mates just call me Al, though."

Liz looked at him briefly and nodded.

"She's doesn't talk much," said Fred.

"She's probably just shy, Fred. Really…" Dominique narrowed her eyes at him.

Liz could feel her shoulders tensing up. "She," Liz paused. "Is right here."

"Right," said Jericho. "Sorry about that."

"We can be a bit much," said Al.

"So…what's your name?" Fred asked.

"Fred, seriously! Leave the poor girl alone," Dominique gestured to Liz's trunk with raised eyebrows.

"Elizabeth…Nott?…Nott?" Jericho repeated her last name wide eyed as he read the gold text on her trunk. "She's—"

"Probably perfectly lovely," Albus cut his friend off.

Fred rolled his eyes at this. "No wonder we haven't see her about. Sneaking around is just like a Slytherin."

Liz kept her gaze fixed on the landscape whizzing by as her jaw clenched. "You know," she muttered darkly. "If you want to make friends with someone, it's best not to talk about them behind their backs when they're sitting right in front of you."

Jericho choked on his every flavoured bean. "Mmmpf—sorry!" He flushed red.

"You're a real prize, aren't you, Jerry?" Liz kicked her trunk so her name was facing the other way.

"It's Jericho. And you're not exactly a ray of sunshine either, are you?"

"Jericho!" Dominique chastised. "I mean, really."

Liz snickered at this. "It's fine," she said evenly. "I'm not here to make friends anyway."

"Why haven't we seen you around?" Albus asked carefully. He knew the pitfalls of asking questions. The war was a long time ago, but he knew too well how sensitive a subject personal history could be.

"I'm new," Liz turned her face slightly towards them.

"Bloody hell!" Fred cried. Albus' eyes widened. Neither of them had seen a girl like Liz before. Her face had been hidden in the shadows before that moment. Her hair was short and black and stood in all directions. Her eyes were a shocking shade of light blue and her expression was tight.

"You really know how to flatter a girl, don't you Weasley?" Liz whipped her head back towards to the window.

Dominique was quick to recover from the situation. "He didn't mean anything by it!" She said earnestly. "Did you, Fred?"

"I—I just—"

"Oh spare me," Liz folded her hands across her chest.

"I'm sorry," Fred mumbled.

"Are you alright?" Albus asked slowly.

Liz's gaze narrowed at the question. She hated that question. "I'm fine," she said without expression.

"We'll just leave you to your thoughts, then," said Dominique.

"Thanks."

"But if you need help or have any questions about the castle, I'd be more than willing to help!"

Liz was tempted to smile. Instead, she simply turned to face Dominique for a moment. "Thanks," she said again.

"Don't mind those two. Their social cues are decidedly lacking. You can call me Dom, by the way. Everyone does," said Dominique.

This made the corners of Liz's lip twitch with amusement. "Just call me Liz," she said simply. There, she thought, that's putting in an effort.

"Liz," Dom smiled. "It suits you."

"Thanks."

"So," Fred shoved his a handful of sweats into his mouth. "Were you at the world cup?"

Liz stiffened at this. She'd prepared her answers well in advance, though. "No," she paused. "I don't like large crowds."

"Do you not like quidditch?" Jericho asked.

"I like quidditch, I just don't like lots of people."

"Oh," Albus nodded in understanding. "Do you play at all?"

"Yeah," Liz replied.

"What position?" Asked Fred.

Liz looked back out the window. She wasn't used to talking so much. "Beater," she said simply.

"Beater?" Jericho almost choked again. "That's rare for a girl. Not saying that you're not brilliant, because you probably are, but blimey. Wait till James hears about this."

"You should try out for your team," Albus smiled.

Liz shrugged at this. Dom seemed to understand that she didn't feel comfortable speaking anymore and began taking to her friends about classes. For this, Liz was very grateful. She already feared she'd said too much and gotten too close.

Too many people talked. Liz was sorted into Slytherin, of course. It was of no shock to her or frankly anyone else. The hat had hardly touched her head, when it cried out it's choice. Her house offered no comfort, though, as the only people she had spoken to were in Gryffindor and at the opposite end of the hall. Then she spotted Albus sitting amongst the Slytherins. She'd completely forgotten about his house. He waved her over and before she could consider any other option, he made room for her next to him. Liz didn't want to make friends, but she couldn't help but feel slightly more at ease with a familiar face next to her. She knew people were talking about her. She had prepared herself for it. She knew, transferring in during her sixth year, would result is a lot of assumptions and gossip. Her last name didn't help matters. If anything, it simply fuelled the fire.

Liz spoke to nobody. She didn't make eye contact with anybody. She heard Albus taking to her a few times and to a few friends of his, but she didn't process any of it. She followed the prefect to the common room and didn't engage with anyone until she got there. Everything was shrouded in a kind of greenish hue. The dim light coming from green lamps reflecting off the large porthole style windows. The almost iridescent quality of the shining black furniture. The luxurious black carpeting and the way the ceiling almost seem to tower over her despite the fact that she was, in fact, in a dungeon. Everything about the place welcomed her, but yet she didn't feel at home.

"Not bad for a common room, hmm?" A voice brought her back to the present.

"It's nice enough," Liz mumbled, hoping to avoid further conversation. She felt enough out of place as it is. She didn't want to embarrass herself further with idle small talk.

"You're an odd one, coming into school sixth year. How'd you manage that?"

"I've been to school."

"Oh have you?"

"Yeah, I'm not a moron," Liz said quickly and instantly regretted it.

"So much for niceties," the boy smirked. "I'm Flint by the way. Nathan Flint."

"Pleasure," Liz replied evenly.

Nathan cast her a sideways glance. "How'd you end up here then?"

"None of your business."

"Well now," he leaned against the black leather chair. "That's not very kind."

"I'm not kind," Liz muttered.

"Oi!" Nathan called across the room. "Malfoy! Come say hello to the new blood."

"I don't w—"

"Nott…" the Malfoy boy strode over. "Elizabeth, right?"

"Liz."

"Liz," he repeated smoothly. "I'm Scorpius. Prefect and keeper."

"Yes, I know all about you," Liz looked at the floor. She was torn between lashing out and running away.

"No need to belittle me, Nott."

"I could hex you all into next weekend," Liz glared at the two boys.

"I'd like to see you try," Nathan chuckled.

"Don't tempt me."

"My father told me you were transferred for being unmanageable," said Nathan. He chose to ignore Scorpius' warning glance."Conduct… unbecoming, he said."

Liz froze. "Son of a—"

"Ah," Nathan put a hand over Liz's outstretched wand. "Hit a nerve did I?"

"Get this little bastard out of my face."

"Language, Nott. Don't you know it's not lady-like for a young girl to resort to vulgarities."

"I'm not a young girl. I'm almost sixteen," Liz lowered her wand abruptly. "And I am not a lady."

"Noted," said Scorpius. "And don't be such a prat, Flint. She's probably been through enough as it is."

"Pleasure meeting you, Nott," Nathan made to leave. "I'm sure you'll make a fine Slytherin."

Liz watched the boy walk away and relaxed ever so slightly.

"He's a bit much, admittedly," Scorpius said, jolting Liz to attention. She'd forgotten about the boy to her left.

"I can see that."

"Look," Scorpius went to gather his books. "Not all of us are like that. Some of us just keep up appearances."

"You do that quite well," Liz said quietly. Scorpius Malfoy was by no means someone she wanted to be friends with at that moment, but there was something about his tone of voice that was oddly comforting. It reminded her of her mother. Distant, but comforting.

"I've been practicing. You'll soon get it. Oh, and Nott?"

"Yeah?"

"Words of advice: try not to ruffle any feathers. Flint's father isn't the only one here who knows everything about you. If you don't watch yourself the whole school will know why you came here and you'll have nowhere to go."

Liz digested his words for a moment and hesitated before responding.

"Malfoy!" She called after him. "I…erm…thanks."

"Don't worry about it," he turned back to face Liz. "Just out of curiosity, could you have hexed Nathan?"

"Absolutely," Liz grinned in spite of herself.

"I reckoned as much. Goodnight, Nott."

"Night," Liz replied and made her way to the girls' dormitories.