Author's Note: Since I last updated with a new chapter, I have revised much of chapter one and parts of other early chapters (still need to work more on those). I think the first chapter is much improved now, so I recommend giving it another read, if your interested~

Two weeks later, as Charlotte walked with Valeria down Hogsmeade's High Street towards Gladrags Wizardwear, something caught her eye in the window of the bookshop. There was a sign reading "SALE" and below that "Herbology books 20% off". She stopped, calling out to Valeria, who was ahead of her now, "You go on and I'll meet up with you later. I want to have a look in Tomes and Scrolls."

"Is Riddle's book obsession catching on with you too?" She turned and saw the discount sign. "Ah, Herbology. That's your siren song alright," she laughed. "I've got to get to my appointment, so I'll see you." She hurried on.

The appointment she was referring to was one she had arranged quite some time ago, and had been preparing for even longer. The manager of the Hogsmeade Glad Rags had agreed to take a look at some of her designs, and Valeria hoped some kind of partnership would come out of it.

Charlotte entered the bookshop. Despite the sale, the fiction section, although small, was more populated than the Herbology section. This suited Charlotte fine, but before she could reach the shelves she was interested in, the owner called her over.

"Miss, you may like to look at this." He summoned an especially elegant book from behind him and it came to rest on the counter in front of her. He opened it before she got a chance to look at the title, but the images inside, beautifully depicting all kind of magical plants, told her it was a Herbology book. Evidently he knew she was there for the sale. "I thought you might find this interesting," he said. "Please, have a look." As he spoke, he was looking past her at something, but she didn't turn to see what it was.

Charlotte carefully turned the pages and enjoyed examining each picture. Then, just after she heard the bell that signified the shop door had been opened, the man closed the book, from a distance with magic. "I apologize," he said to her confused face. "I need to speak with you, about your previous visit here." He sounded quite serious.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked in response to his graveness, although she could recall nothing in her actions that would necessitate this kind of confrontation.

"No, no. In fact, it isn't really about you. The young man you were with…" He stopped speaking, and it seemed to Charlotte that he didn't know what he wanted to say.

"Tom Riddle. He's my boyfriend." She clarified, thinking perhaps that was what he was wondering.

"I thought he might be…" the man said to himself, with the same cryptic severity, more mysterious now because what reason would he have to care about her relationship with Tom?

To that point, she asked, "What concern is it of yours?" She was getting the impression that the man was a bit odd.

"Well it could either mean you've already noticed… certain things, or it could mean you will be very resistant to what I have to tell you. Given how proudly you proclaimed your relationship, I fear it is the latter." The man must have been crazy. Or he was playing a joke on her. But then, to think this was appropriate, he'd have to be a bit loony.

"Why shouldn't I be proud?" Everyone Charlotte usually spoke to, at school, was already aware of Tom's outstanding qualities. She hardly got the chance to tell anyone, and, as a result, she got a bit carried away now. "Tom is brilliant. Did you notice he's a prefect? And he's top of our class. It's very likely he'll end up Head Boy."

He cut her off. "Yes, yes, his merits at Hogwarts are numerous—but what of his character? For instance, are you aware of some of his… darker interests?" He spoke quickly and then glanced towards the door. Charlotte followed his gaze. It seemed strange that no one else had come into the shop, but perhaps not a coincidence; the curtains in the front windows had fallen mostly closed and just visible between them was the sign saying "open", facing inwards.

"What are you talking about? What would you know about him? I think I know him better than you do. And have you locked the door?" Charlotte asked in agitated anger.

"You're uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I understand. But listen to me, Miss Soleil, that boy is not what he seems to be. Of course, you know many things about how he seems to be, I'm sure. But there are some things you clearly do not know. He came in here hoping, although he doubted his hope would be fulfilled, to find a certain book. There is nothing that anyone on the right side of things needs to know in a book like that. The fact he even knows of its existence is disturbing."

"He's very well-read," interjected Charlotte. "And he was probably just curious about whatever it is because he likes knowing things."

"You're more concerned with defending him than wondering, say, how I know what I know."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're not making any sense!" Charlotte was done with this madman. She took a sideways step towards the door. "I'm going to leave now, and I don't think I'll be visiting your shop again."

The door swung open for her to leave . "Fine, go. I've tried to warn you. I only hope I've done enough. I urge you to take caution, be vigilant. If you notice anything… concerning—" Charlotte didn't stay to hear the rest. She hurried out into the snowy path, where Hogwarts students and Hogsmeade inhabitants were passing by without any idea of the strange occurrence inside the bookshop.

She set out on a path towards Gladrags, pulling her cloak more tightly around herself as she walked quickly, wanting to get there, find Valeria, and put the owner of the bookshop out of her mind. But at the moment there was nothing to distract her. She couldn't recall the exact words he had used, and for a moment wished she had paid a bit more attention, but reminded herself that it didn't matter, because it was clearly made up. Darker interests—who would believe that? The man probably didn't get out of shop enough and needed some entertainment. Why not stir up trouble for the silly little Hogwarts students? And now she imagined he was laughing to himself, alone in his shop.

"Hey! Charlotte!" Someone appeared in front of her. She grabbed ahold of her wand in a startled panic as she looked up. Strange. She hadn't realized she was so tense. Oliver was standing in front of her, a group of his friends a short distance away. She quickly tucked her wand away, hoping he wouldn't notice how on edge she had been. But he did. "No wonder you didn't see me waving to you," he said. "You're really nervous about something. Has something happened?"

"Oh, a rather odd… conversation with the owner of Tomes and Scrolls. I think he's not quite all there," she answered dismissively.

Oliver laughed, relaxing as she did. "Really? What did he say?"

"Oliver! It's cold and I want a butterbeer! Bring the girl along or stay behind; we're going to The Three Broomsticks!" One of the boys in the friend group shouted at them.

"Would you like to join us?" Oliver asked her.

"Well I was just on my way to meet up with Valeria, but I could join you for a little bit." Maybe that would help take her mind off the bookshop. And getting to know Oliver's friends, presumably also seventh years, would be a good thing.

The only girl in the group approached her first. "So you're la fille française [the French girl]? We've never met, but I've heard about you. I'm Elizabeth Greene."

"It's nice to meet you, Elizabeth."

"Nice to meet you!"

"She won't be Miss Greene much longer," said the broad-shouldered, muscular boy who Charlotte thought she recognized from the Gryffindor quidditch team. He put his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders.

"We aren't engaged yet—stop telling people!" she answered with a playful grin.

"I'm sorry, Eliza, I'm too excited for you to be my wife—Mrs. Elliot Rochester."

The other boy with them didn't introduce himself until Charlotte asked him his name. It was obvious he was the quiet one of the group. "I'm Nigel Graham." He politely held out his hand to shake hers.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said.

"Likewise," he answered.

The group made their way to The Three Broomsticks. Charlotte insisted on purchasing everyone's butterbeer. Elizabeth said she would share with Elliot, which was a sort of compromise because initially she had refused Charlotte's offer.

They found a table and she was slightly uncomfortable realizing that it was the same one she and Tom had sat at the week before Valentine's Day. Being in that spot again, now with a group of unfamiliar people, felt a bit strange, but she quickly forgot about her previous experience there because the atmosphere was much different this time.

She sat between Oliver and Elizabeth. The conversation that ensued jumped from topic to topic as the group was a lively bunch. Then, in a span of silence, Elliot said, "Sorry to make you feel like a fifth wheel, Nigel," Elizabeth smacked his arm, and everyone else at the table began speaking at once, even Nigel.

"I have a boyf—"

"She's not my gi—"

"I don't think tha—"

"What?" Elliot exclaimed.

"She's dating Tom Riddle," said Elizabeth. "Yes, that Tom Riddle. Incredibly bright, extremely handsome; he even caught the eye of some of us older girls—not me, of course."

"I was going to ask if I should be jealous," Elliot said with a laugh.

"No," she reassured him, linking her arm with his.

He turned back to the group. "Alright, I made a mistake, now let's forget that happened. Charlotte, um, so you have OWLS coming up. How are you feeling about that?" he asked, to redirect the conversation.

"I know, they're in just a couple weeks, I can't believe it. I'm sure I'll do fine. Mostly I just want them over with. I'm definitely ready to get back to learning new things."

"Be careful what you wish for," said Nigel, and the others laughed. "You'll love some time to review and catch up when you get to NEWT level classes."

"Watch out." Oliver said to him. "You're getting very close to talking about what we agreed not to mention today."

"He means exams, the NEWTs," Elizabeth whispered.

"This is our one day of relaxation," said Oliver. "We've been doing a lot of studying, as you can imagine," he added to Charlotte, apparently not serious in his warning to Nigel about the topic of tests.

"Some of us more than others." Elliot smirked at him.

Oliver chuckled and explained, "They like to say I study like a Ravenclaw."

"Some people say the same thing about Tom," she laughed.

He's very well-read, she heard herself say in her mind. Her smile fell away and she must have become noticeably perturbed, because Oliver, glancing over and seeing Elliot and Elizabeth were having a conversation of their own, asked her quietly, "Are you and him doing well?"

"Yes, we're fine. Everything's great. I was thinking about bookshop madman again."

"So he said something that had to do with Riddle?" he asked. She didn't answer, and he quickly said, "Sorry. I understand if you don't want to talk about it for whatever reason."

"It was just so bizarre… He's not what you think!—things like that, he said."

"That is strange," agreed Oliver. "Well, I was going to suggest, if you were still worried about Tom being jealous, you should tell him you were with me in Hogsmeade today, and then mention we were with my friends, just to see how he reacts." He was smiling like he found the thought of this amusing.

Charlotte simply laughed, since clearly Oliver thought it was funny. Then, to rejoin the larger conversation, she looked to Elliot and asked, "Am I right in thinking that you're on Gryffindor's Quidditch team?"

"I was, yeah. I was a beater. They recruited me in fourth year, but I only lasted two years on the team. I quit—well, I didn't try out again at the start of sixth year. Although they wanted me to—oh did they want me to! I just didn't have the team spirit though. Quidditch was alright, but I wasn't really into it, like most on the teams are."

"Now wait a moment—they didn't all want you back! Some of them you alienated with your 'there should be more sports than Quidditch campaign'," Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh that," said Nigel under his breath, smiling.

"It's true!" exclaimed Elliot. "Muggles have loads of sports—baseball, basketball, football, rugby! Wizards? One. Just one. Quidditch is all we need, said the purebloods."

"We never said that," Charlotte replied defensively, without thinking. Everyone looked at her. Oliver took a deep breath. "I'm sure you were only making a joke, of course." Her words came across with the implication that he'd best not say anything else against purebloods, disguised in an understanding tone.

"You're too pretty to be a pureblood."

"What?" Charlotte spoke sharply. She had been so shocked, she hadn't even perceived who had said this. She realized it was Elliot when he responded.

"You have to have noticed all your kind look a bit odd, from keeping your blood pure, marrying your cousins."

"Elliot, you can't say that to her," Elizabeth said fairly calmly.

"He's already said it."

"Thank you, Nigel, for stating the obvious," she snapped.

Charlotte moved to get up so she could leave, even though she couldn't stand properly in the booth. Oliver tapped Nigel and they stood to let her out.

"Charlotte, he didn't mean to offend you," Oliver said.

"Well, I am offended, although not hurt. But there's no reason for me to stay where I have to hear things like that. Valeria's waiting for me." And without looking back, she left The Three Broomsticks.

She arrived at Gladrags Wizardwear, but couldn't find Valeria. The young man working at the register told her she had just left. They had shorter Hogsmeade trips now, because for some reason, with the attacks, the school deemed that a useful precaution. Charlotte realized she must have spent longer with Oliver and his friends than she had realized. Now, on top of everything else, she had disappointed Valeria too.

She caught up with her friend as the students grouped together to make their way back to the castle. "Where were you?" asked Valeria.

"I'm sorry, after the bookstore Oliver invited me to go to get butterbeers with him and his friends, so I did. But it didn't end very well."

"Oh, well that's unfortunate. You'll have to tell me all about it, later—because I want to tell you about my meeting with Lorelei!" Charlotte tried to listen to Valeria, who was so excited in her carrying on that she didn't even notice her friend's lack of interest. Normally, Charlotte would have been very interested to know what had happened; she was supportive Valeria and loved hearing about her successes, but at this time, she was still feeling heated from the episode with Elliot. And she was a bit annoyed that Valeria had started this whole long story, without being asked, and when Charlotte had something to say.

When they returned to the Slytherin common room, Charlotte immediately saw the back of a familiar, dark-haired head over the top of the couch. She turned to Valeria. "I'd like to go talk to Tom," she said.

"Right," Valeria answered, less enthusiastic than usual.

Charlotte walked around the sofa to join Tom. He looked up at her and smiled. "How was Hogsmeade?" he asked.

"I wish I had stayed back at school with you," she said, sitting down beside him.

He raised his eyebrows. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"

"Not really, no. The first thing—the man in Tomes and Scrolls saying odd things—I could have gotten along fine with, but then I ran into Oliver—"

"Oliver?"

"Oliver Winship."

"Yes, I know who you mean."

"Anyway, he and his friends invited me to go to The Three Broomsticks with them, so I did, and it was fine until Elliot, one of his friends, started saying all these things about purebloods. And I made it clear that I am pureblood, and he didn't stop! He told me I was too pretty to be a pureblood." She couldn't put into words what she found wrong with this comment, but it aggravated her.

"Some people are just foolish; they would rather mock greatness than do what they can to be of use, with what little worth they have."

"I simply don't know why he would think it was fine to talk like that in the first place."

"As I said, some people are fools."

"Yes, I got the impression he wasn't the most intelligent." She hadn't truly thought this during their conversation, but it seemed right to say it now. Tom smiled.

"People like that enjoy saying disparaging things about purebloods because they make them feel inferior, which they are."

"And the rest of them, they weren't all shocked; none of them jumped to my defense. I wish you had been there. You would have come up with the perfect thing to say to put an end to it."

"I wish I had been there too, for your sake. I suppose they agreed with him, the others. What did he say exactly?"

"After the 'too pretty to be a pureblood' comment, he said 'your kind all look a bit odd because of keeping our blood pure. And then he said something about marrying one's cousins."

"Hm," resounded from deep in his throat.

"Now that I think about it, what he said isn't even true, which doesn't make it any less despicable, however—"

"Despicable? You use a strong word." He smiled and she drew the conclusion that he was teasing her, in some form, because she had said the same thing to him.

"He upset me greatly," she said in explanation.

"You shouldn't let it upset you. You're better than him and his opinion doesn't matter. Although, he had one thing right."

Charlotte thought for a moment, worked out what Tom would likely say, then asked with a smile, "What's that?"

"You're very pretty."

Author's Note: So many new characters in this chapter! I'm getting quite a list of original side characters for this story; if there are any I've introduced that you want to know about and would like to see featured more, you are welcome to say so~ (Perdita Pepper, Winky Crockett {although not quite original}, Henry Sprott, Professor Runewood, Talia Thistledown, Cyrus Quinn, Calliope Yuille {+her twin and younger sister I haven't mentioned yet}, Oliver Winship, Elizabeth Greene, Nigel Graham, Elliot Rochester. Then there's the strange old man at the bookshop. And of course, Valeria, but she's getting included more no matter what. Also Charlotte's parents—I'll get to them sometime.) Do you have a favorite?