XXVI. BEELZEBUB HAS THE DEVIL FOR A SIDEBOARD

I spent the last two weeks or so of the break memorizing my new textbooks and trying to ignore the bone-deep dread Malfoy, the prick, instilled in me(how the hell does he know about my telepathy? I kept running through everything, over and over again-it was making me kinda crazy, which is why I've been so laser-focused on my class books-I needed the distraction, desperately-)just when I'd stopped freaking out about the Weasleys-and now Hermione-knowing about me and Harry and our-situation and who Dakota and Alistair are to me.

Reading Gilderoy Lockhart's books didn't make me change my mind about him as a person, but it did give me some hope(a small, not very optimistic glimmer-)that Defence Against the Dark Arts wasn't going to suck this year or be a complete joke.

Whenever I wasn't reading, I was bingeing movies/tv shows(notably, mine and Alistair's Star Trek marathon), watching sports games with Dakota, doing insane experiments with Alistair(which are somehow safer than watching sports with Dakota), at the arcade, in the yard with my soccer ball and plastic goals(Alistair is even worse than Uncle Bram-but enthusiastic, it's hilarious; I'd play against Dakota, but I'm rather fond of life, and she's surprisingly bloodthirsty-), owling back and forth with my friends, of which I do have, thank you/twin(who thankfully replied with Hedwig and not Errol, as entertaining as that would've been), or hanging out in the living room/my bedroom playing video games and listening to my walkman(I finally got around to setting everything back up again; c'est fantastique).

I even visited Bubbe and 'Gramps'(which is what Dakota's father told me to call him and prefers to go by)the other week(we went to a Synagogue Service and Bubbe nagged Dakota about holding a Bat Mitzvah for me, which would've happened back in early August on the first Shabbat after I turned twelve if she had her way-especially after she found out that Alistair's mum threw me a birthday party, which Dakota will probably never hear the end of, while Dakota argued that I'm not Jewish-and Gramps explaining, in an attempt to mediate, that yes, blood or not I am her granddaughter, but she can't just force me into Judaism because she wants to throw a party-and Bubbe countering that Bat Mitzvahs are important rites of passage and all their daughters had one regardless of whatever faith they chose to follow later in life-to which Gramps countered that he didn't have any of them Baptised,despite his own beliefs, and none of them had Quinceañera's at 15 even though his grandfather on his mum's side immigrated to the UK from Latin America-to which 'Aunt' Libby, one of Dakota's two sisters, mumbled that she would've actually really liked having a Quinceañera; it's, like, this whole thing-Alistair and I try to stay out of it...mostly because Bubbe bribes us with baked goods that make me seriously consider just converting to the Jewish faith-)and, the day before I went back to school, Dakota and Alistair took me out to celebrate our three-year anniversary early.

We went to the water park, it was awesome.

Finally, it was September 1st, and we were piling into the car and setting off for London and King's Cross Station.

I mostly just flipped through Wanderings with Werewolves and played Galaga on the Gameboy Uncle Graham and Aunt Flora got me for my birthday.

My hair was an effortless, wild curly/wavy mess, as always, and I was wearing a white t-shirt printed with the word Cherry Bomb in a kind of retro font-faded burgundy red with a white and blue outline, and stars-tucked into colourful striped shorts, my red Dorothy flats, and my new denim jacket(which I got shopping with Dakota-I needed to get Quidditch acceptable shoes that won't go flying off and hit someone in the face...which may or may not be why I rarely wear shoes during practices anymore-in my defence, it was a helluva shot-and Bletchley was totally fine, he was just being a baby-).

My nails were blue and sparkly and set off my colourful rubber bands.

When I wasn't reading, or focused on my game, I was singing along to the radio with Alistair-which, per usual, led to Dakota having to physically drag us out of the car. And, as we waited by the pillar for Harry and the Weasleys-

"Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind?" Alistair and I sang, stomping our feet to the nonexistent beat and ignoring the strange looks we were receiving, "Can he walk at all, or if he moves will he fall? Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there, why should we even care?

"He was turned to steel, in the great magnetic field, when he travelled time, for the future of mankind, nobody wants him, he just stares at the world, planning his vengeance, that he will soon unfurl-"

"They should have been here ages ago," Dakota huffed as she looked at her watch for the third time in the last twenty or so seconds, having given up on trying to get us to act like mature *boring* members of society about roughly ten minutes ago.

(sometime between the song that started it all, Hardline's Hot Cherie-"You're gettin' me hot, Cherie, and I want what you got all over me, I'm going crazy", Genesis' Invisible Touch-"And now it seems I'm falling, falling for her, she seems to have an invisible touch, yeah, she reaches in, and grabs right hold of your heart, she seems to have an invisible touch, yeah, it takes control and slowly tears you apart", Tigertailz Love Bomb Baby-"You're not a lady, you're a love bomb baby, love bomb baby, come 'n' blow me away, can't get enough of your sweet, sweet lovin', keep it coming, oh, baby, fire away!", and the theme from the NeverEnding Story-"Reach the stars, fly a fantasy, dream a dream, and what you see will be, rhymes that keep their secrets will, unfold behind the clouds, and there upon a rainbow is, the answer to our never ending story, ah, story, ah!").

"Maybe they're running late?" I offered(Alistair kept humming Black Sabbath's Iron Man, but stopped singing and stomping when I did).

"If they are, they ought to of notified us," she said disapprovingly.

"How?" I wondered dryly, "by the time they would've noticed they were late, we'd of already been halfway here-and can you imagine trying to inconspicuously send Errol into a station of Muggles without gaining unwanted attention?"

She conceded to that.

"It's almost five minutes to eleven-" she worried her bottom lip, "maybe we should just send you through now, and they can meet you on the train?"

"I guess-?"

Suddenly, my scar prickled.

My head shot up, eyes darting to the entrance to the station just as a familiar clan of redheads(and one jet black-haired twelve-year-old)came bursting inside.

Dakota quickly waved them over.

"Sorry, sorry-" Mr Weasley panted, "we had to keep turning back-"

"I forgot my broomstick, and George forgot his fireworks," Fred said, "and we'd just hit the highway when Ginny realised she'd forgot her diary-"

"Dad wanted to fly the car, but mum said no-" George added.

"Your mother said no to flying a car in broad daylight to a Muggle station?" I deadpanned, "whatever was she thinking?"

Mrs Weasley smiled at me warmly, glad she wasn't the only one who saw the utter stupidity in that(even if, according to the male Weasley's minds, it can now apparently turn invisible; Muggles overlook a lot, and wizards seem to think they're morons, but having a car magically appear outside King's Cross might be a bit much-).

Harry gave me a quick hug, and Ron held up a hand.

"Hey, Jules."

"Ronnie. Scotchy."

I messed up Harry's hair playfully-"Hey!"-and, while he tried to look annoyed as he fixed it, he couldn't completely hide his smile.

"Alright, we have to get going-" Dakota said, giving me a tight hug, "see you in December, sweetheart. Be good."

"I'll see you in December," I replied cheekily.

Dakota sighed in mild exasperation but, when she followed it up by kissing me on the forehead and smoothing back my hair, she looked fond.

Alistair came over to hug me, and Dakota went on to fuss over Harry.

"Bye, Bones."

"See you, Jim."

"Try not to lead your sister into certain doom this year, will you?" Alistair remarked, nudging Harry jokingly with an easy grin.

Harry smiled sheepishly.

"I'll try."

"Atta boy."

With a quick goodbye to the family of redheads(of which I fit right in with, if I do say so myself, ignoring my darker hair, green eyes, and atrocious lack of freckles-the twins and I've seriously wondered if I'm actually their missing triplet and not Harry's "smarter half"-that or, according to Lee, Fred or George's amnesiac time-travelling daughter/niece from a dystopian future, which is what I prefer to believe-what? It could happen-and Ron's always thinking about how much I remind him of them-which I like infinitely more than when everybody else thinks about how much I remind them of-), Alistair and Dakota left, trusting Mr and Mrs Weasley to get us all on the train safely.

Mrs Weasley nervously checked the station's overhead clock.

"Alright, Percy first."

The bombastic prefect briskly strode up to the pillar and disappeared.

Mr Weasley was next, and then the twins.

"I'll take Ginny and you three come right after us," Mrs Weasley told me, Harry and Ron.

She took Ginny's hand and, in a blink, they were gone.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ron said.

"In the interest of one of us not missing the pillar entirely-" I added in wryly, "I'll follow."

"Good idea," Harry agreed.

Harry secured Hedwig's cage, and I double-checked Illyius', before we wheeled our trolley's around to face the pillar between platforms nine and ten.

Harry and Ron bent low over the handles of their trolleys and started to purposefully walk towards the barrier, while I casually followed on their heels.

Gathering speed, they waited until they were a few feet away before breaking into a run-they reached the pillar, and-

CRASH.

I barely managed to backpedal in time as the two boys collided with the stone column and fell back. Ron's trunk fell out of his trolley with a loud thump, Harry was knocked on his ass, and Hedwig's cage hit the station floor and rolled away.

Hedwig shrieked indignantly.

Everyone around us stopped to stare.

Nearby, a guard yelled, "What in the blazes d'you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped.

Seeing him clutching his ribs sent a bolt of alarm-and a nauseous twist in my stomach I forced away-through me and I was quick to dart over to help him up and make sure he was alright while Ron rushed to grab Hedwig.

She was freaking out so much that people had begun to mutter about animal cruelty-as if it was any of their damn business.

"You okay, Skywalker?" I fussed, looking him over.

"I'm fine," he said, catching his breath.

Ron came over with Hedwig.

"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed.

"I dunno-"

They both turned to me expectantly.

"How would I know?" I said disbelievingly.

"To be fair, you usually do," Ron countered, "so does Hermione."

"We're smart, but we aren't psychic," I snorted. "And, considering the company we keep, it isn't like there's exactly a high bar."

Ignoring that, Ron looked around wildly.

There were still several curious Muggles staring at us.

I was highly tempted to tell them to screw off but figured making sure Harry and Ron don't do anything stupid was the priority.

"We're going to miss the train," Ron said in a whisper so said nosy Muggles wouldn't overhear. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself-"

We all looked up at the clock.

Its hands were still moving-ten seconds...nine...

Cautiously wheeling his trolley forward, Harry placed it against the stone pillar and pushed with all his strength, but nothing happened.

Three seconds...two...one...

The clock struck eleven.

"Maybe the clock was wrong..." I considered, but when I checked my own watch found that the time was right(and it was the same on Harry's, too, from what I could see without marching over and grabbing his arm). "How-?"

I glared up at the pillar, confused.

"It's gone," Ron was stunned. "The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"

Harry laughed hollowly.

"The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for about six years."

"I think I might have some on me," I offered when he turned to me, "but not a lot. And I can't promise it isn't Monopoly based."

The freckly redhead walked over to the barrier, pressing his ear against it.

"Can't hear a thing."

"Can you usually?" I asked him weirdly.

-and was ignored.

Rude.

"What're we going to do?" Ron wondered tensely. "I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us."

As they looked around(people were still watching us-mostly thanks to Hedwig, who wouldn't stop screeching; Illyius, who'd looked greatly entertained a moment ago, was now covering his head with his wings in annoyance and rolling his yellow eyes at the snowy owl, like he thought she was being a drama queen), I bit my lip, mentally going over our options in my head but not freaking out as much as they clearly were.

I mean, so what if we're a bit late, all we have to do is owl or something and one of the Hogwarts staff members will probably pick us up.

Push to shove, we can grab something to eat with whatever Muggle money I have on me(...that isn't fake currency for a real-estate board game-)and wait for Mr and Mrs Weasley by their car. They'll contact the school, and we'll either get there by the feast or spend the night at the Burrow and be picked up tomorrow.

And, while I so very much would rather not, we can always take the Floo Network; I'm sure there's at least one fireplace in the castle that's connected.

-none of which seemed to occur to Harry and Ron.

"I think we'd better go and wait by the car," Harry decided giving me a brief, shining glimmer of hope. "We're attracting too much atten-"

"Harry!" Ron's eyes gleamed. "The car!"

"No," I said instantly.

"What about it?"

"Nothing. He's an idiot."

"We can fly the car to Hogwarts!"

"No, we can't. Harry, specifically. He goes and, somehow, we'll get attacked by a winged manticore and it'll carry him off to its den-or you'll crash us into Big Ben or Buckingham Palace or something-we'll have the Hogwarts administration, the Ministry of Magic, and the bloomin' Queen's guard on our asses-"

"But I thought-"

"We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy-"

"Oh, well, never mind then-I don't know why I'd object now, I mean-" I spat sarcastically, "if it's in section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy-"

"But your Mum and Dad..." Harry was still futilely trying to force his trolley through the pillar, "How will they get home?"

"That's your only problem with this?" I demanded incredulously, throwing up my arms.

"They don't need the car!" Tweedledum said impatiently. "They know how to Apparate! You know, just vanish and reappear at home! They only bother with Floo powder and the car because we're all underage and we're not allowed to Apparate yet..."

"Right, yeah-they can Apparate," I retorted scathingly, "so why would their twelve-year-old son and his friends stealing their car and going on a joy ride from London to Scotland even phase them-?"

Tweedlejustasdum's panic changed to excitement.

"Can you fly it?"

I felt my hope for humanity withering.

"No problem," Ron guaranteed as he wheeled his trolley back around. "C'mon, let's go. If we hurry we'll be able to follow the Hogw-ahhh!"

I grabbed his ear, and Harry's, and yanked them back.

"Ow! Jules-!"

"Blimey!"

"Quit ignoring me you cosmic, boneheaded pudding brains! We aren't going to steal a car and fly it to Scotland-Am I the only one that hears how ridiculous and stupid that sounds?...Wow," I mumbled when they just looked at me blankly, before refocusing. "Look, I don't have the patience or the crayons to explain this to you. Let's just go wait by the car-that will not be moving, and I'll send Illyius ahead.

"You know, my flying, biting, mail-delivering, staple and main mode of communication in the magical world? There's another one over there. Goes by Hedwig? Hasn't shut up since you flung her halfway across the bloomin' platform? And it's not like, if we don't show up on the train, they'll expel us or anything-but if we show up in an illegal flying car and get spotted they might-shit, we might get arrested-"

They looked like they wanted to argue but, when I broke out my own go-on, bitch, I dare you look I got off Granny(lips pursed, a single eyebrow raised challengingly, and just dead eyeing the dimwitted laser brains-), that handy survival instinct that seems to frequently malfunction in Gryffindors(or maybe its just my Gryffindors?-)kicked in and they wisely kept their big mouths shut.

"Right. Let's do that-" Harry agreed awkwardly, coughing. "Jules, can you, uh-let go of our ears...?"

"I can-doesn't mean I should-" I muttered dryly, but did.

They both rubbed their ears, wincing.

"Come on, ding-dongs."

I wheeled my trolley towards the exit.

Trading a glance, Harry and Ron were quick to follow.

The Weasley's enchanted old light blue Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe was parked on the side road. With a series of taps from his wand, Ron unlocked the boot; "We might as well put our trunks away if we're going back to the Burrow-" he hastily defended when I pointedly reminded him that we weren't going anywhere, sharing a ridiculously obvious and suspicious look with Harry.

(damn, no wonder these Einsteins didn't make it into Slytherin-or, for that matter, Ravenclaw-).

To my disappointment, Dakota and Alistair were already gone, so that left me as the adult/voice of sanity-which is just sad.

(where's Hermione when you need her? But, then again, they'd probably find a way to peer pressure her into taking the flying car anyway-).

As they heaved our trunks into the surprisingly spacious car(-which was 100% caused by magic), and put Hedwig on the back seat, I pulled out a pen and some spare parchment and leant against the hood to write.

Thanks to my telepathy, and not being stupid, I knew for a fact that Harry and Ron were going to fly this car, whatever I said. They were too deadset on getting to the castle, and idiots, and Gryffindors-which is objectively worse.

So, I figured I'd plan ahead:

Wotcha, Professor Snape!

It's Jewel Potter, your favourite student.

I'm in London at the moment but have the sinking feeling that that won't last. For some reason, the barrier wouldn't let me Ron and Harry onto Platform 9¾'s and we missed the train. The problem with that?

Mr and Mrs Weasley left Harry and Ron alone with an enchanted flying car.

I'm pretty sure you have an idea of where this is going.

I already told them I'd owl ahead, and that we weren't going to steal Mr and Mrs Weasley's car and fly to Scotland-because that's stupid and ridiculous and we'll probably get ourselves killed(if not expelled or thrown in Azkaban), but thanks to my 'unique insight' I can already tell they aren't going to listen to me.

I'll try to hold them off until Mr and Mrs Weasley find a way off the station and back to the car, but I'm not holding my breath.

Give Dumbledore McGonagall and the Ministry etc. the heads up so they can get started on damage control, and I'll go with them and make sure they don't die, or get spotted by too many Muggles, or fly into a famous landmark or something.

Cheers,

Jewel

I wrote a letter for Mr and Mrs Weasley too, explaining what I knew was going to happen and apologising for not being able to stop Harry and Ron. I mean, I could, pretty easily, but I sorta want to tick 'went on a joyride to Hogwarts in a flying car' off my bucket list and I've covered my own ass by sending these, sooo...

"Go to Professor Snape first, then drop the other letter off at the Burrow-" I told Illyius quietly, making sure Harry and Ron didn't hear.

Illyius nipped my fingers affectionately, then flew away.

I put his empty cage in the back with Hedwig.

"Why did you write two letters?" Harry questioned, confused.

"For Dakota and Alistair, so they know what happened-" I lied casually, "the other ones for Dumbledore; I just told him the barrier shut early for-reasons? and that we got stuck. Mr and Mrs W should be back soon, and someone will probably be by to fix it in a couple hours or days or something-"

"'Days?'" Ron repeated.

He and Harry shared another 'covert' look.

"Hey, Jules-" Harry said slowly, "why don't we wait in the car? It's kind of chilly-"

"Yeah, I'm freezing-" Ron added, rubbing his arms.

I looked at them wryly.

"Sure, great idea, guys-" I agreed, smiling fakely.

Trying to not look victorious-as if I was dumb enough to buy that BS, they quickly got into the car and, rolling my eyes, I hopped in the back with Hedwig.

I brought along my school bag(which I'd grabbed from my trunk so I could write to Professor Snape and Mr and Mrs Weasley)-mostly because I have snacks and books in here that I packed for the train.

I pulled out Wanderings with Werewolves and flipped to where I was up to.

Harry and Ron didn't even last 60 seconds.

"Come on, Jules-"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"If we just-"

"No."

"I mean, we're already in the car-"

"I thought that was because you were cold?" I commented matter-of-factly without missing a beat, not looking up from my book.

There was an awkward pause, and I smirked.

"Look," I sighed, acting like they were wearing me down, "I know you guys really think that taking the car is a good idea-"

"We do," Ron said instantly.

"But, I mean-" I pretended to waver, "Professor Snape is my Head of House-if we get caught, he'll flay me-"

"We'll take all the blame, I promise," Harry said.

-well, that worked faster than I expected it to.

I 'wavered' again before groaning and nodding, 'caving'.

"Yes! Alright-check that no one's watching," Ron ordered as he speedily turned around, using his wand to start the ignition.

I had to hold up my book to hide my face, struggling to keep up my reluctant act and staring at the pages as I bit back a grin.

Harry was sticking his head out the passenger seat window.

"Okay," he finally said after making sure the street was clear(-ignoring the traffic up ahead on the main road).

With that, Ron pressed a tiny silver button that was on the dashboard(the Invisibility Booster Mr Weasley installed)-and the car vanished with us in it.

It was the freakiest sensation.

We couldn't even see each other, or ourselves, but we could feel the car beneath us-and I could feel my book in my hands, and my legs-

"This is so weird-" I remarked faintly, looking around.

"Let's go," Ron said from where the driver's seat used to be.

꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ

As the car began its ascent, the buildings and parked cars on either side of us fell away and dropped out of sight. Soon enough, we were flying high above London and looking down at the smoky, glittering city below.

But then, because of course, there was a sudden *pop* and we were visible again-both to each other and the Muggles below.

"Yeah, that seems about right," I sighed, putting Wanderings with Werewolves down on the seat by Hedwig's cage.

"Uh-oh-" Ron frantically jabbed at the Invisibility Booster, "It's faulty-"

Panicking, he and Harry started pummelling the silver button.

We vanished.

-only to pretty much instantly reappear.

I grabbed onto Harry's seat and leant forwards.

"Screw the Invisibility Booster! Ron, we need to get out of sight-now!-"

"Hold on!"

Ron's foot slammed onto the accelerator and, as we shot straight up into the clouds, I fell back against my seat with an "oof!"

Our view turned dull and foggy.

I readjusted my seatbelt, a bit winded.

Harry blinked out the window/windshield at the white, fluffy masses that completely obscured our view on all sides.

"Now what?"

"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," Ron reasoned.

"Dip back down again-quickly-"

Deciding to just leave them to it as the car carefully dropped down again seeing as I'd already tricked them into taking all the blame(I'd feel guilty, but it's their fault for falling for it-and for not listening to me in the first place-), I picked up my book and curled up with my legs on the seat between me and Hedwig.

Twisting around in their seats, they squinted out the windows.

"I can see it!" Harry finally yelled. "Right ahead-there!"

I peeked out and only just spotted the train thanks to its vibrant/eye-catching paint job.

From this high up, it looked like a vermilion snake darting through a field of grass.

Ron checked the compass attached to the dashboard.

"Due north. Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so-hold on-"

I grabbed onto the 'oh shit' handle above my window, and Ron shot back up-this time, through the cloud coverage and into the blazing sun.

After blinking a bit, my eyes adjusted, and I found myself staring in wonder.

The Anglia's wheels skimmed the clouds, like a highway in the sky, and the sun shone stunningly against the bright endless blue sky.

"-Whoa," I breathed, whistling.

"All we've got to worry about now are aeroplanes," Ron said.

He and Harry shared a look and, without warning, just lost it.

I rose my eyebrows at them before shrugging and going back to my book.

Eventually, they put down the nitrous oxide, and talk turned to Quidditch, the new school year, Quidditch, the Start-of-Term/Welcoming Feast, Quidditch, and whatever popped into our heads-like Quidditch.

We ended up sharing a pack of toffees Harry and Ron found in the glove compartment, and I let them have some of my crisps(but hoarded my Jammie Dodgers and oversized Toblerone bar-after making Ron try some).

The best part was when I leant over the centre console between them to fiddle with the radio-and managed to get Muggle stations.

Sure, the enchantments on the car made it go all static-y, but whenever that happened I just flipped stations until I found one that didn't make our ears bleed. Plus, I finally got to introduce one of my wizard/Pureblood friends to Muggle music, which was awesome, and Ron seemed to like a lot of the songs I put on.

I mean, granted, he didn't seem to get into Cyndi Lauper's Change Of Heart("Waiting for your change of heart, it just takes a beat, to turn it around, yes, I'm waiting for your change of heart, at the edge of my seat, please turn it around")or Natalie Cole's This Will Be("This will be, you and me, yes sir-ee, eternally, hugging and squeezing, and kissing and pleasing, together forever through rain or whatever")as much as Hedwig and I did, but he liked a lot of the other ones(I totally caught him nodding along to Madonna's Material Girl-"'Cause we are living in a material world, and I am a material girl, you know that we are living in a material world, and I am a material girl"-and ABBA's Voulez-Vous-"Voulez-vous (aha), take it now or leave it (aha), now is all we get (aha), nothing promised, no regrets (aha), Voulez-vous (aha), ain't no big decision (aha), you know what to do (aha), la question C'est Voulez-vous, Voulez-vous")and he and Harry were obviously entertained watching me sing along to the radio and dance about in my seat like a lunatic-so, yeah.

We had to fly below the clouds every now and again to check the position of the Hogwarts Express as it travelled farther and farther north.

Every time we did, the view would change-from green fields to wide, purplish moors to a city with cars that looked like a huge nest of rainbow ants to villages that, from our vantage point, looked like toy models.

The general morale just sunk lower and lower as the hours dragged on and the humidity started to get to everybody.

Feeling all warm and sticky, I used one of my rubber bands to tie back my hair and kicked off my flats beneath Harry's seat.

I shrugged off my denim jacket, dumping it on the seat beside me, and Harry and Ron pulled off their sweaters.

After a while, my mouth felt all dry(which the toffees and crisps didn't help)-and I'd forgotten to grab my half-empty anyway drink bottle from the car when we got to King's Cross, so I couldn't do anything about it, which sucked.

Harry was sweating so much that his glasses kept slipping.

Hearing him daydreaming about the ice-cold pumpkin juice the Honeydukes Express serves on the train made me want to push him out the car.

-Ron too.

It didn't help my mood that, around lunch, they guilted me into sharing the Shaggy and Scooby-esque club sandwiches Dakota packed me to make sure I didn't just eat sweets all day-or that I finished my book, and my backup book, and had nothing to do.

"It's much too late to find," I lazily sang along to the radio(which was playing Don't You Want Me by the Human League; usually, I'd be belting it out at the top of my lungs, but all I wanted to do was flop onto one of the sofas in the Slytherin common room and die), leaning tiredly against the car door/window, "when you think you've changed your mind, you'd better change it back or we will both be sorry, don't you want me, baby? Don't you want me? Oh! Don't you want me, baby? Don't you want me? Oh!"

The sun was slowly falling, and the sky was turning pink.

"Can't be much further, can it?" Ron croaked, and I yawned and stretched my arms. "Ready for another check on the train?"

The train was winding past a snowy mountain below us. Beneath the clouds, the sky had significantly darkened.

"I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, that much is true, but even then I knew I'd find a much better place, either with or without you-"

Accelerating, Ron drove back up-

And the engine let out a whining noise.

I jolted upright.

Harry Ron and I looked at each other nervously.

"It's probably just tired," Ron figured. "It's never been this far before..."

"Sure, that's probably it," I agreed sceptically, clearing my throat.

"-It's much too late find, when you think you've changed your mind, you'd better change it back or we will both be sorry, Don't you want me, baby? Don't you want me? Oh!"

I tried to ignore the whining noise as it got louder and louder, and stars dotted the darkening night sky, but it did nothing for my anxiety(and it didn't help that my telepathy was feeding me Harry and Ron's on top of it-or that the radio stopped working and we were all too on edge to keep up a steady stream conversation).

My knees started to bounce, and I snapped my rubber bands over and over again and ran my fingers through my ponytail compulsively.

When Harry pulled his sweater back on(fighting to ignore the windshield wipers as they wove feebly across the front window), seeing as it was cooling down, I followed his lead and grabbed my denim jacket, almost huddling into it.

"Not far," Ron noted, talking more to the car than either of us, "not far now."

He nervously patted the dashboard.

The next time we dipped down to check for the train, we could barely even see, squinting through the darkness until-

"There!" Harry exclaimed, and Hedwig Ron and I jumped. "Straight ahead!"

Hogwarts castle stood on a cliff silhouetted against the sparkling night sky, its glowing windows acting as a lighthouse beacon.

I would've been relieved...if the Anglia hadn't chosen that moment to shudder and rapidly begin to lose speed.

I reflectively clutched the 'oh shit' handle.

"Come on," Ron coaxed, shaking the steering wheel, "nearly there, come on-"

In response, the car's engine groaned.

There were narrow jets of steam coming from the hood.

"I take back all my earlier objections-this was a great idea, guys," I congratulated sarcastically, "really-top-notch-"

Harry gripped the edges of his seat, hard.

"Shut up, Jewel," Ron snapped half-heartedly.

We flew towards the lake, and I actively avoided thinking about all the strange and dangerous creatures I'd seen casually swim by my common room windows.

We were just flying over the water when the car gave a nasty wobble.

On the steering wheel, Ron's knuckles had gone white.

The Anglia wobbled again.

"Come on," the redhead muttered.

We passed over Black Lake.

As the castle grew nearer, Ron put his foot down on the accelerator-and, with a loud clunking noise and a sputter, the engine died.

My heart stopped.

There was a moment of dead silence.

"Uh-oh," Ron said.

The car did a nose-dive.

It went straight for the castle wall, speeding up like a steep roller coaster going down, and a scream caught in my throat-

When, all of a sudden, the radio clicked back on.

"I see a little silhouette of a man, Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the Fandango?"

I jerked around to stare at the dashboard in disbelief.

"Noooooo!" Ron yelled.

He swung the steering wheel around and we somehow managed to miss the wall and go soaring in a huge arc over the greenhouses.

"Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me, (Galileo) Galileo, (Galileo) Galileo, Galileo Figaro-magnifico-o-o-o-"

We were losing altitude as we flew over the dark grounds, and I found myself changing my mind about landing in the lake-because I'd sure as hell prefer swimming the rest of the way to crashing into Greenhouse Three.

"I'm just a poor boy nobody loves me, he's just a poor boy from a poor family, spare him his life from this monstrosity, easy come, easy go, will you let me go, Bismillah! No, we will not let you go (let him go!)-"

"Try to go back over the lake-we can jump out-" I tried to say, but Ron had already let go of the wheel and grabbed his wand from his back pocket.

"Bismillah! We will not let you go (let him go!)-"

"STOP! STOP!" he was yelling as he desperately whacked the car's dashboard and windshield with the magical stick to no avail.

"Bismillah! We will not let you go (let me go), will not let you go (let me go) (never), never let you go (let me go) (never), let you go (let me go), ah-"

The ground flew up at us as we plummeted from the sky-

"Ron, aim for the wat-holy shit!"

Looking up ahead, my eyes went wide.

"No, no, no, no, no-"

"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" Harry bellowed.

"Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go, Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for meee-"

Harry lunged for the steering wheel, and I screamed-

CRUNCH.

The radio cut out.

Metal and wood collided creating a deafening cacophony as the Anglia crashed into a huge tree and hit the ground with a heavy jolt.

Steam billowed out from beneath the hood, which looked crumpled, and Hedwig was letting out shrill terrified shrieks that made my ears ring.

I held onto the back of Harry's seat, having just barely caught myself when I fell forward, and struggled to catch my breath(the adrenalin rush made me feel all jittery-like I was on a caffeine high, or something-and my heartbeat felt so loud all of a sudden; like my heart was going to burst out of my chest-).

Ron groaned despairingly.

"Are you okay?" Harry checked urgently. "Jules?"

"Mmhm," was all I could manage.

"My wand. Look at my wand-"

Ron's voice was shaky.

While I would've preferred to keep my eyes squeezed shut, and was currently actively regretting life, I managed to force myself to look.

-and blinked.

His wand had almost snapped in half, the tip dangling limply and being kept on by nothing but a couple of splinters.

"Shit," I said.

Harry opened his mouth but, before he could say anything, something suddenly smashed against the side of the car.

"Sonofa-!"

I hugged Harry's seat from behind as he fell sideways into Ron-and, from above, the same unknown force collided with the Anglia's roof.

"What's happen-?"

Ron gasped.

Following his gaze out the windshield, a sick understanding washed over me as, a split-second later, a huge branch smashed into it.

"No, no way-we did not crash into the Whomping Willow-" I moaned in disbelief, "nobody is that unlucky-no-"

(the Whomping Willow is this mad, violent, sentient tree on the grounds that tries to kill anyone that gets too close to it *samesies*-according to Hagrid, it's been around since the seventies or something; why anyone thought planting a murder tree on the lawn of a school that anyone can just walk up to-or crash their enchanted flying Ford Anglia's into-was a brilliant idea in the first place, though, is a whole other thing...that could also kinda be explained by it being planted during the seventies-).

Almost doubled over, the Willow's branches reached out, striking the car from every direction. With a huge bang, it dented Ron's door.

"Aaargh!"

A branch battered at the roof, seemingly trying to cave it in, and the windshield trembled under the force of the tree's blows.

"Run for it!" Ron shouted.

He threw himself against the driver-side door, but a vicious hit from the tree sent him flying back into Harry's lap.

The ceiling sagged.

"We're done for!" he moaned.

I was about to dig through my bag for my wand to-I don't know, blow the damn doors off or something(I might be able to Stun the tree so we can do a runner, but I've never used a Stupefying Charm before, I've only read about them, so whether or not it'd work is up in the air)-but, before I could, the floor started to vibrate.

The engine switched on.

"Reverse!" Harry yelled.

The Anglia shot into reverse, knocking me back against my seat.

The Willow kept trying to hit us, its roots beginning to creak as it almost ripped itself up in its single-minded pursuit of smashing us to bits.

But, unluckily for the bloodthirsty tree but very lucky for us, we sped out of reach.

"That," Ron panted, "was close. Well done, car-"

Thoroughly winded, I unclicked my seatbelt, trying to get my bearings-only to shriek when, with three sharp clicking noises, all of our doors flew open and I felt myself being tipped sideways onto the ground outside.

I landed roughly on the wet grass with a curse.

-at which point Hedwig's cage landed on me, and I cursed louder.

The cage blew open and Hedwig herself flew out with an angry screech, her claws accidentally-? catching my arm as she did.

Illyius's empty cage hit me in the head.

Naturally, I swore again.

Colourfully.

Without looking back, the pissed-off snowy owl flew off to the castle.

"Jules! Are you okay?"

Harry scrambled over to me, looking alarmed by the bloody scratches on my arm that seriously stung like a total bitch.

Before I could answer the dented, scratched, and steaming Ford Anglia suddenly took off, its rear lights blazing furiously, and I jumped.

"Shit!"

"Come back!" Ron yelled, waving his broken wand at it. "Dad'll kill me!"

With a sound from its exhaust that resembled a snort, it vanished into the darkness.

"The car's alive now-and has attitude-sure, why not?-" I panted a bit hysterically, shaking my head, "that's just-perfect-"

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked, worried.

"Does it-? Oh, my arm-Nah, it's fine-I mean, it stings, but she barely got me-the rest of my body, on the other hand..." using the slightly torn sleeve of my jacket to press down on the scratches, I let out a hiss through my teeth, "I feel like I've been lightly tossed into a wall by another mountain troll-you?"

"I'm fine," he said, ignoring the bump on his head.

"Can you believe our luck?" Ron remarked miserably as he bent down to pick up his rat(he had a cut over his eye that was bleeding a bit but seemed otherwise fine), looking over at the Whomping Willow as it continued to menacingly brandish its limbs at us. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get the one that hits back."

"Nah, that seems pretty on-brand for you lot-" I snorted dryly.

"You're one of us, too," Harry informed me.

"Yaaay," I said sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want to be part of a club that the universe itself is determined to kill off? Sign me up-"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Come on," he said wearily, "we'd better get up to the school..."

He helped me up-and, when my bare feet touched the damp grass, my head snapped up.

"Hey! My Dorothy flats are still in the-they're in-" I deflated, sticking out my bottom lip, "I loved those shoes-Harry, I loved them-"

"I know, Jules," he said, patting my shoulder consolingly.

"They were so easy to slip on in the morning-" I continued mournfully as we grabbed our things, "my green ones have buckles, which can be annoying, and I've got purple ones now but it isn't the same-"

We started up the slope towards the castle; cold, stiff, bruised and battered, and reeling in the aftermath of our newest near-death experience.

"I think the feast's already started," Ron commented as he briefly stopped at the bottom of the steps to drop his trunk before quietly crossing to peer through one of the glowing windows. "Hey-Harry-Jewel-come and look-it's the Sorting!"

Dropping our stuff, we rushed over.

We had a perfect view of the Great Hall and, through the crowd of black wizard hats, I could just see a line of scared/anxious-looking first years in front of the High Table. Thanks to her vivid red hair, I could easily spot Ginny amongst them.

In front of the first years, McGonagall was placing the Sorting Hat on its stool.

The Hat did its song(which we couldn't hear from outside)and, stepping aside, McGonagall pulled out her naughty or nice list.

Spotting Lockhart sitting at the High Table in aquamarine robes, I pulled a face.

At the end of the table, Hagrid was drinking from his goblet.

"Hang on..." Harry muttered as a tiny, mousy-haired boy sat down to be Sorted. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?"

I looked up and down the table, but couldn't spot him.

He probably volunteered to wait for us in the entrance or something, I figured in wry amusement, any opportunity to kick Harry when he's down-and Ron's just a fun bonus.

"Maybe he's ill!" Ron hopefully suggested.

I smacked him upside the head.

"Bloody-! What was that for? Blimey, that hurt-"

I quickly looked back into the Great Hall with my hands innocently clasped behind me, rocking casually on my heels.

Ron rubbed the back of his head, scowling.

"Maybe he's left," Harry said, eyeing me cautiously, "because he missed out on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job again?"

Seeing as he already had a head injury, I just shot him a look.

-judging by his sheepish expression, he got my message loud and clear.

Ron stepped right around Harry and out of my reach.

"Or he might've been sacked!" he said enthusiastically once he was sure he was safe from any violent retaliation I might make, "I mean, everyone hates him-"

"Excuse you," I coughed pointedly, "he's my favourite professor-"

"Yeah, well, you're a Slytherin," he retorted.

I narrowed my eyes indignantly.

"What the hell's that supposed to-?"

"Or maybe," a voice drawled coldly from behind us, and I started violently, "he's waiting to hear why the three of you didn't arrive on the school train."

Harry and Ron wheeled around in shock.

Professor Snape was smiling down at us-my twin and Ron in particular-in a way that told us that we were in for it.

"Ohmygod, why do you do that-?" I gasped, putting a hand against the window for stability and looking up at the Potions Master in disbelief.

At my reaction, he couldn't help but smirk.

"Follow me," he said.

꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ

My blue-painted toenails sparkled whenever the light hit them as Professor Snape led us through the front doors and into the Entrance Hall.

Harry and Ron didn't dare look at each other.

I just tucked my hands into my pockets and carelessly bounced after the Potions Master-unbothered considering I was the least in trouble out of the three of us(and it's not like I'm not used to being in trouble by now).

(besides, not only am I famous, but I'm an unstable and untrained inborn telepath; I'd, probably, have to do something a lot worse than this to get kicked out).

The mouthwatering smell coming from the Great Hall made my stomach rumble, and I couldn't help but pout as we were led away from it, across the hall, and down a familiar set of narrow stone steps leading to the dungeons.

"So-" I said, skipping ahead to walk beside the professor, "have a good summer?"

Harry and Ron stared at me incredulously.

"Yes," Professor Snape said shortly.

"Mine was cool, too-ignoring the bouts of crippling anxiety and existential dread-I went to the water park-hey, can I ask you a question?"

"I feel as if you're going to anyway," he replied dryly, "so go ahead."

"Did Dumbledore hire Lockhart because he lost a bet?" I wondered seriously.

Professor Snape snorted, much to Ron and Harry's astonishment.

"I mean, if he's half as good as his books say he is, I get it-" I added, "but I met him over the summer and he's a narcissistic fop-and, I mean, how full of yourself do you have to be to assign all your own books?-"

For a second, the Potions Master looked amused-but, when we finally reached his office, the expression was wiped from his face.

"In!" he ordered, opening the door and pointing.

I sauntered inside with the boys on my heels.

Feeling chilly, I pulled my jacket tighter and rubbed my bare legs.

Harry and Ron shivered, but I'm not sure if it was because of the cold or the gross-looking potions floating on shelves around the room.

-probably a bit of both.

Professor Snape shut the door and turned to us.

It didn't escape my twin or Ron that he was focused on them entirely and was standing in such a way that it made it seem like I was just an innocent bystander.

(which probably has a lot to do with my lovable personality/hit-or-miss charm-and the "letter I sent to Dumbledore" throwing them under the bus-and the fact that I called him my favourite professor and stuck up for him against these idiots as they obliviously dug their own graves a few inches deeper than necessary-).

"So," he began in a soft voice, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?"

(-to be fair, considering they were imagining a triumphant hero's welcome and Harry was thinking about how jealous the twins would be earlier, it's not like he was far off).

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it-"

"Silence! What have you done with the car?"

Ron visibly gulped.

Harry's face was hilarious-and the dawning understanding when Professor Snape unrolled a copy of today's issue of the Evening Prophet.

And, catching sight of the headline-

I looked at Harry and Ron wryly.

FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES.

"You were seen," the Potions Master hissed, holding up the newspaper to show the boys the headline. "'Two Muggles in London," he read aloud, "convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower...at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing...Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police...Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he remarked, smiling nastily as he looked up at Ron. "Dear, dear...his own son..."

Realisation smacked me and Harry in the face at the same time, neither of us having thought of how this could affect Mr Weasley if anyone found out he'd secretly bewitched a Muggle car to fly, and I felt my stomach sink in guilt.

"I noticed," Professor Snape continued, "in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow."

-he somehow said completely seriously.

"That tree did more damage to us than we-" Ron blurted.

(...which is about as great of an argument as crashing through the wall of a building and trying to sue the owner because the concrete dented your bonnet; "Hi, yeah, I drove my automobile through your business last week? Well, my car was damaged-I'm assuming you have insurance, or-? I mean, objectively, if you hadn't of parked your building there, I wouldn't of crashed into it-so, you know, cash or cheque?").

"Silence! Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me."

Harry and Ron glanced at me quickly, seeming suddenly guilty as they remembered my 'worry' over Professor Snape's reaction earlier and how they 'pressured me' into flying the car anyway and how I 'could be expelled' for it-

I cleared my throat, looking down to hide my sheepish expression.

"-I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."

The boys blanched, staring at each other.

Professor Snape left.

Suddenly, I didn't feel as smug about tricking them into taking the blame for all this, as impressive as it was-some of my best work, really(even if, let's be honest, it was their fault-I offered solutions, tried to talk them out of it, owled the school...still, maybe covering my own ass and hanging them out to dry for my own amusement, and to get back at them for ignoring me, wasn't the way to go about it-).

Ten minutes passed in silence with a very impending doom-ish vibe. At last, Professor Snape returned-and, with him-

"My love!" I said brightly.

Professor Snape rose an eyebrow.

McGonagall's pissed off expression morphed into exasperation.

"Miss Potter-"

I blew her a kiss.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose-but, to Harry and Ron's slight relief, she didn't look as wordlessly furious as she did when she walked in(I do have a bit of a knack for defusing situations, don't I? For that matter, I also have a knack for exacerbating them-it could really go either way, even on my best day-).

Deciding to ignore me, McGonagall just rose her wand(making the idiots next to me flinch)and pointed it at the fireplace.

With a bit of magic, the hearth erupted into flames.

"Sit," she ordered.

Harry and Ron instantly backed up, taking a seat on the chairs stationed by the fire, while I more casually wandered over.

Seeing the shortage of chairs, I just leant against Harry's.

"Explain."

The firelight gave the deputy headmistress's glasses an ominous glint.

Ron hastily explained what happened, all the way up to the barrier not letting us pass through to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

"-so we had no choice, Professor," Harry jumped in, "we couldn't get on the train."

"Judging from the letter your sister sent ahead-" she remarked coldly, nodding at me, "I would say you had plenty of other choices-you simply chose to ignore them."

Harry just gaped at her for a moment.

"I-I didn't think-"

"That," she said, "is obvious."

I snorted, and Ron and Harry shot me matching looks stating that I wasn't helping.

Someone knocked on the door.

Looking to be greatly enjoying himself, Professor Snape made his way over, opening it and revealing a grave-looking Dumbledore.

He stared us all down and, despite the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm mostly off the hook here, I suddenly felt really bad.

(you know that feeling when you get in trouble, and your chest gets tight, and shame just rushes over you? Yeah, that-it's fun, isn't it?).

Harry was wishing we were still outside being beaten up by the Whomping Willow, and I couldn't help but silently agree with him.

A yellow rubber band snapped.

For a long while, nobody said a word.

Then, finally-

"Please explain why you did this."

The disappointment in his voice was even worse than if he'd lost his temper and gone off at us, and my eyes dropped.

Taking over, Harry told his knees everything(but, thinking about Mr and Mrs Weasley, made it sound like we'd just randomly bumped into a flying car by chance outside the station-which they no doubt saw right through, but none of them questioned it; Dumbledore just kept peering at Harry through his half-moon spectacles).

"Professor McGonagall's right-we should've listened to Jewel-" he said, and I winced, "she didn't have anything to do with this-it was all me and Ron-"

He looked at Ron expectantly but when the redhead just looked back at him, not understanding, shot him a pointed look.

"What are you-? Oh! Right. Yeah, we practically kidnapped her-"

"Guys, it's okay," I said under my breath.

"No, it isn't-you tried to tell us," Harry insisted, turning to me(and, the worst part was, he'd forgotten about his and Ron's promise to take all the blame-all he could think about was what Professor Snape said about expelling them and how he had to make sure that didn't happen to me-he was trying to protect me), "but we wanted to take the car, and we weren't listening-you owled Dumbledore-" I winced again, and Professor Snape looked at me wryly, "and you told us to wait for Mr and Mrs Weasley, but-"

"But I could've done more to stop you-" I cut in, feeling like an idiot for not just letting him accept all the blame so I could get off scot-free, more or less(but, knowing why he was doing it...), "because I'm a Beater and you're scrawny, but I didn't, and I ultimately went along with it, so if you're in trouble, even if I tried to talk you out of it and took initiative and owled the school, it's still on my head. We did it together, all of us-so, if we're gonna be punished, we might as do that together, too."

McGonagall looked as taken aback as Harry and Ron at my statement, but Dumbledore just inclined his head.

(honestly, I'm mostly doing this to make myself feel less guilty-and because I'm kinda hoping they'll be so impressed by me taking accountability and having Harry and Ron's backs that they won't even punish me, which feels like a long shot-).

"Besides-" I added, sighing, "as much as I want to throw you guys under the bus because you ignored me, and got me into this stupid mess-and because it'd be really funny...you're my twin, Scotchy, and Ron's one of my best mates. I can't just hang you out to dry to save my own ass-as nice as that option sounds-like, wow, I can't believe I'm doing this-it would've been so easy-I wasn't even really in trouble-"

"Jules," Harry said, and I stopped.

Despite the situation, he and Ron were smiling at me.

I rubbed my neck, smiling back sheepishly.

McGonagall almost seemed a bit moved.

Looking back at the professors, their smiles fell.

"We'll go and get our stuff," Ron voiced in a hopeless sorta way.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" McGonagall barked.

Realising they didn't intend on expelling us(being the only adult in the room unaware of my unique insight, I could easily 'read' McGonagall's mind, seeing as she didn't know she had to protect it), I let out a breath of relief.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?"

"Not today, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said. "But," he went on, "I must impress upon all of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

-and so ended Professor Snape's rare good mood.

The Potions Master cleared his throat.

"Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree, and, by their own admission, put Miss Potter in a dangerous situation where she could've been seriously injured despite the other, better options she offered them-" Harry Ron and I looked at each other in surprise, "surely acts of this nature-"

"It will be for Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore told him calmly, "to decide on these boys' punishments. They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility. Jewel, however," he added, "has openly admitted to being as complicit as Harry and Ron and, seeing as she's in your House, her punishment will be up to you."

"Just don't make me scrub bedpans again-" I gave a mock shudder, not as alarmed by Dumbledore's statement as Harry and Ron seemed to be, "I couldn't look Poppy in the eye for weeks, it was just-"

I pulled a face.

"I'll keep that in mind," Professor Snape said dryly.

"Much appreciated," I replied, shooting him a joking thumbs up.

"Wait-" Harry said, looking between me and the Potions Master, "but I thought you were worried that Snape-"

He stopped, he and Ron staring at me as the realisation that I'd flawlessly played them slowly sunk in, and I bit back a smirk.

"Oh, you're just evil," Ron said.

"Aw-" I put a hand to my chest, pretending to be touched, "thanks, Ronnie. Though, seriously," I added, "you were asking for it-if you'd just listened to me instead of being pigheaded morons we wouldn't even be in this mess. And, in my defence, I did end up putting my head on the chopping block anyway, so-"

That, they couldn't argue with.

If anything, they looked begrudgingly impressed.

Seeing McGonagall Dumbledore and Professor Snape's confused faces, I explained, "I tricked them into promising to take all the blame for me-it was actually really impressive-it's one of my proudest achievements-but then Wackadoodle came in, and Harry tried to protect me, and I felt bad, so-"

I rose my arms and dropped them.

"I feel as if this takes away from my grand gesture-" I mused, running my fingers through my fringe(which had come loose from my messy ponytail)and ruffling it carelessly.

Professor Snape grimaced at the action.

Looking amused(which means I'm probably not a total demon), Dumbledore turned to McGonagall, his beard twitching.

"On that note, I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample-"

With a venomous look in my twin and Ron's direction, Professor Snape allowed the headmaster to sweep him out of his own office.

McGonagall was still eyeing us up like a harpy trying to decide whether she should abduct us and drag us off to Hades or not.

"You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding. You too, Potter-" she added, spotting my bloody sleeve.

"I've had worse injuries getting dressed for Quidditch practice-" I snorted, unbothered, "let alone actually taking part-"

"Not much," Ron said as he wiped at the blood above his eye with his own sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted-"

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," McGonagall informed him. "Your sister is also in Gryffindor."

"Oh, good," Ron said.

I had to bite my tongue.

(and, silently, I couldn't help but wonder how the Weasley's pro-Gryffindor mentality was any better, or any less toxic, than the Malfoy's pro-Slytherin one-or their pretty blatant discrimination against my 'evil' house; I mean, shit, because I was Sorted into Slytherin, Ron spent the first week of last year thinking I was suddenly a bad person or a total bitch and the only reason he came around so quick is because I stood up to Professor Snape for Harry; a part of me was hoping that Ginny would be a Slytherin too, or even a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, just to make a point and see how everybody reacts-but, honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if one of the biggest reasons she, or her siblings, ended up there was because they didn't want to be the odd one out and felt pressured to ask the Sorting Hat to not put them in any of the other houses; I mean, damn, it's just a school house, calm down).

"And speaking of Gryffindor-" she added sharply.

"Professor," Harry quickly interjected, "when we took the car, term hadn't started, so-so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it-should it?"

He looked at her anxiously.

"Damn, nice one," I whispered, impressed, before holding up my hand and raising my voice, "Slytherin, either."

McGonagall returned a piercing look, but her lips were less thin and I could've sworn she almost smiled.

"I will not take any points from Gryffindor-or Slytherin," she said when I wove my hand, and Harry and Ron brightened. "But you will both get detention. As for you, Miss Potter-" she turned to me, "you'll have to wait to see what punishment Professor Snape decides to give you, but you'll likely serve detention as well."

"Yeah, I figured," I agreed, shrugging dryly.

Raising her wand, the Transfiguration's Professor casually pointed it at Professor Snape's desk and-with a *pop*-conjured three silver goblets, a jug of iced pumpkin juice, and a large plate of sandwiches.

"You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitories," the deputy headmistress stated. "I must also return to the feast."

"I don't really like pumpkin juice, can you-?"

The door clicked shut.

"-Aaand she's gone-alright then-"

I cleared my throat and grabbed a sandwich.

Ron let out a long, low whistle.

"I thought we'd had it," he remarked, taking a sandwich from the plate himself.

"So did I," Harry agreed, following his lead.

"Can you believe our luck, though?" Ron continued, his voice a bit garbled from the chicken, ham, and bread. "Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them." He swallowed and, instead of talking then, waited until after he'd taken another bite. "Why couldn't we get through the barrier?"

Harry shrugged.

"Maybe it was disgusted by your eating habits?" I suggested wryly, reaching over to grab a third sandwich.

"Hey, you're just as bad-"

"Yeah, but I'm a cute girl."

"What's that got to-?"

"We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," Harry told us as he took a huge swig out of his goblet and Ron grumbled. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast..."

"She didn't want us showing off," the redhead figured sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."

"Yeah, clever's the word for it-" I snorted sarcastically.

꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ

The plate of sandwiches magically refilled itself, so we kept eating until we were full before deciding to head off to our respective common rooms(preferably, before Professor Snape got back and found us still hanging out in his office).

After saying goodnight in the corridor, we separated-Harry and Ron making their way to the staircase leading back up into the Entrance Hall, while I turned around and headed for the Slytherin common room.

I think I found the right wall, but whether I did or not quickly became inconsequential-seeing as those prats forgot to tell me the password.

"Oh, you have got to be bloody kidding me-" I groaned.

I looked back the way I came miserably.

Judging by the time, the feast ended a while ago, so any hope I had that someone would come by and let me in swiftly died.

"Gryffindor sucks?" I offered, looking up at the wall hopefully. "Pureblood? Superior? Serpent? Serpentine? Salazar? Something really mean about my brother? Black Mamba? Horned Viper? King Cobra? Death Adder? Blood Python? Sand Boa? I-I think I've just lapsed into cool-sounding snake species'...?"

"It would probably help if you faced the other way-" a familiar voice drawled from behind me, and I jumped and wheeled around, "that's the wrong wall-"

Malfoy was leaning against the wall behind me, smirking.

"You were close, though, I'll give you that-" he added, looking amused.

"You!"

I marched over, poking the taken aback boy in the chest.

"Uh, me?" he said unsurely.

"Do you have any clue how crazy I've been because of you?"

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow.

"Well-"

"Don't answer that!" I snapped, sticking my finger in his face. "Now, you have five seconds to tell me how the hell you know about-the thing-and who else you've told before I grab my wand and make you-or, maybe, I'll just go into your head and get the information myself-and, full disclosure, I have no idea what I'm doing!"

"'-the thing?' You mean your Legi-"

I glared at him dangerously, daring him to finish that.

"I didn't tell anyone-" he rolled his eyes, moving my finger away, "and I know because I figured it out-it was kind of obvious-you're really bad at hiding it-"

"You 'figured it out?'" I repeated blankly.

He looked slightly offended by how hard I found that to believe.

"After last year, I knew something was up-and I told you I'd figure it out eventually, remember?-over the summer, I asked my parents if mind-reading was possible, and my father told me about Legi-the thing-" another, more exaggerated eye roll, "When I saw your face at Flourish and Blotts, I knew I was right-"

"Oh, yeah, thanks for that, by the way-really-" I huffed snarkily, "it's been a fun two weeks worrying about how the hell you knew, who else knew, and if I'd come back to school and end up being universally ostracized or something-"

"Why would you be ostracized?" Malfoy looked confused, "From what my father told me, it's a really complicated and powerful magical art-and you were only eleven, and you were doing it without even knowing-"

"Because-" I opened and shut my mouth, crossing my arms tightly, "whatever. It doesn't matter. The point is, did you really have to give me a two-week-long heart attack just to see if you were right?"

"If I didn't, it would've just bothered me until I did-"

"And we wouldn't want you to be bothered, now would we?" I shot back sarcastically, throwing up my arms.

"Exactly," he said.

I fought the urge to kick him, and he smirked.

"You know," he wryly continued, "I wondered why nobody else had figured it out when you were so bad at hiding it-but, then I remembered that your friends are idiots-"

"Oi, don't call them idiots!"

"You literally call them idiots all the time-"

"Yeah, well, I'm allowed-you're not-"

"Oh, sorry-I wouldn't want to insult Weasley and what's-her-name-they might start thinking I don't like them or something-oh, right-"

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious," I scoffed.

Malfoy smiled mockingly.

Then, refocusing, he eyed me up assessingly.

"So...mind-reading...?"

"I emphatically refuse to have this conversation with you. Big word. Underscores my resounding feeling of nope."

"Unless you want me to go ask Potter, then I'd-"

My head shot up in alarm, and I rapidly blanched.

"Don't! You, you can't-"

An invisible force gripped my throat.

Malfoy was thrown off balance.

"What?"

"I-" realising the blonde had somewhat unknowingly backed me into a corner, I sighed and walked over, leaning my back against the stone wall with my gaze fixed on my sparkly blue toenails, "I haven't told him."

"You haven't...?" Malfoy straightened suddenly, "wait, Potter doesn't know? He's your brother, how could he not know?"

I grimaced at my feet, chest tightening.

"He just doesn't, okay? I didn't even know, really-I'd convinced myself that I was just intuitive and spacy...but then I couldn't ignore it anymore, so I tried to find out the truth-which is why I was in the library researching strange magical maladies. I was hoping I was sick or something, and I could just make it go away, but...well, obviously, I can't. Until Professor Snape realised what was going on just before everything that happened with Quirrell-literally, hours before-I didn't even know what it was called-"

"So Snape knows?"

"And Dumbledore," I admitted. "I lost control over the Christmas break and he caught me, but he gave me space until I was ready to talk-I just-never really was. But then I sorta had a mini-breakdown on Professor Snape after the History of Magic exams, and he worked it out. He said he'd try to help me, but I honestly don't even know if he can. Still, it's better than sitting around pretending nothing's wrong..."

(I would've told him about them also being Legilimens/telepaths, but something in the back of my mind refused to out them, too-).

"And no one else has any clue?"

I shrugged.

"I'd say yes, but apparently I'm really bad at hiding it-" I snorted wryly, "really, the only reason no one else knows is probably because they don't have a clue what it is, or that it's even possible-plus, being born one is super rare, which is why it took Professor Snape and Dumbledore so long to catch on, so there's that-"

"It, being Legilimency, right?" Malfoy said, pretending to need clarification, and I elbowed him as hard as I could from this angle.

He let out a hiss, wisely shutting up.

A beat, then...

"-I actually call it telepathy," I added, being surprisingly forthright.

(whenever I think about talking about this with anyone but Professor Snape, I feel like I can't breathe, but for some reason I felt-okay? talking to Draco Malfoy, of all people; probably because he's already worked it out, so there's no real point denying it-and I've had two weeks to freak myself out/spiral while kind of getting used to the idea-and over two months to let the reality of what I am, and what I can do, gradually sink in and to study the book Professor Snape gave me so I could work on not treating my telepathy like "the enemy"-and...and because he was still looking at me the same way).

"'Telepathy?'"

"It's the Muggle word for people who can read minds in fiction and comics and stuff-I like the sound of it more-and, fun fact, Legilimens hate being called mind-readers-apparently, it's like a dirty word to them-"

"Noted."

"And if you call me that within hearing range of anyone-" I went on pleasantly, "I'll gut you with a toasting fork and roll your dead body into Black Lake-and then I'll roast marshmallows."

"-Also noted," he said, clearing his throat.

Letting out a breath, I tilted my head back against the wall and stared up at the shadowy ceiling, long past the point of caring about the goosebumps on my legs.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," Malfoy told me quietly after a few minutes.

My head jerked sideways, and I stared at him.

I'd never seen him with such an earnest expression before.

"You...aren't? Right," I scoffed, regaining my composure, "and, in return for your silence, I'll have to-what? Do your homework? Be your slave?"

"First of all," he countered, "there's no way I'd trust you with my homework or anybody else's-your own included-and while that slave bit is tempting, and it'd definitely be entertaining for a while, you'd find a way make me pay for it-or do something that ends with my dead body being rolled into a lake-"

"Oh, in that case," I said mock cheerfully, "I'll just blindly trust you with one of my biggest secrets that not even my own twin brother knows-"

"I'm not going to blackmail you, Potter-"

"And why should I believe you, exactly?" I retorted. "We hate each other-that isn't exactly a great foundation for trust-"

Something in Malfoy's grey eyes shifted, and he looked away.

"Look, just-read my mind, or something-" he said, gesturing uncomfortably to his head.

"I, err-" I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, "can't?"

Malfoy turned back to me in disbelief.

"You can't?" he repeated.

"Well, it's not like I can control it!" I flung back defensively. "I'm not a bloody magician, and this isn't some neat party trick I can do on command! Figuring out what's going on in people's heads is hard enough on a good day, and it's really easy to misinterpret something or only catch the tail-end of a thought, and-you're one of those annoying people whose minds are closed off enough that I can't read them properly-I can usually only figure out whatever you're thinking or feeling on a surface level or in the moment, and you're really good at compartmentalizing your emotions, so that makes it even harder-you're just a really frustrating person-"

"Wait, you can't read my mind?" he interrupted with a strange look on his face, straightening back up again.

I made a half-and-half gesture.

"Some people are just more open than others. Harry wears everything on his sleeve, you're really closed-off-but not to the point where I can't still get a sense of you, tell when you're lying, or skim the surface of your mind with dubious accuracy-and I can't read Professor Snape or Dumbledore at all, but that's because they use this thing called Occlumency; it's the counter-measure to my telepathy-"

"Yeah, I think my father mentioned something about that-" Malfoy said thoughtfully, "it keeps Legilimens out, right?"

I hmmed in confirmation.

"It would've been nice to know before I met Professor Snape-" I mused, "he's like my blindspot-I've never been able to read him, and now he knows about me he's even more on guard; he almost gave me a heart attack during my first few Potions lessons when I realised I was weirdly aware of everybody in the room but him-and then he'd skulk about the classroom, and end up right behind me, and I'd just about jump out of my bloody skin. Now, it's kind of nice not having to work so hard to act normal-and it's easier having a conversation with somebody when I can't simultaneously hear what they're thinking-which, let me tell you, isn't exactly a fun time-"

"So, the rubber bands..." Malfoy nodded at my wrists with new understanding.

"They help me focus on the world around me," I explained wearily, holding up my right wrist to show off the multi-coloured elastics. "When I get sucked into people's heads, and I lose focus, I snap myself."

"That-explains a lot-" he admitted.

I smiled wryly.

(for some bizarre reason, getting all of this off my chest almost felt-good; sure, that weight wasn't going anywhere, but it was...nice?...being able to talk about my telepathy so freely/openly and being able to sense, in that indescribable way I always can, that Malfoy-while not knowing what to do with the horrifying knowledge that I could tune into his thoughts and use them against him whenever I felt like it, more or less-seemed to think this was something I should be rubbing in people's faces, not something I should be ashamed about, and, like Snape...ish, saw value in what I am; he also wasn't treating me like a freak and, while it's a genuine concern he'll go about telling everybody, because he's spiteful as hell, my anxiety isn't as extreme as it would've been had anyone else figured it out; I mean, it's still there, especially with my history, but this felt-different-and besides, next to all of my worst case scenarios, this felt almost anticlimactic and laid-back-I guess I freaked myself out so much expecting this epic, dramatic confrontation that I metaphorically/emotionally punched myself out-and Malfoy was being surprisingly cool about everything, and acting like it wasn't even this big thing, which took a bunch of pressure off the situation-).

"It's worse in crowds," I continued a little thickly. "Not to mention the fact that I get this annoying pressure in my head from having everyone's minds in my general proximity fighting to be heard in my bloomin' skull at all hours of the day. The only time it goes away is when I'm alone-or when there are only a few people around. It's one of the reasons why I like hanging out in the common room after hours. It's quiet, and I can actually think. Plus; the fireplace, the criminally comfortable leather button sofas, the windows that look into the lake-and it keeps me and Bulstrode from killing each other, which is a bonus.

"When I'm in the Great Hall, I constantly feel like my head's about to explode. It was really bad during Quidditch season last year, and at the Sorting Ceremony and the End-of-Year Feast. Before the match against Gryffindor, I had to sneak off to Pomfrey almost daily just so I could act semi-human. I've gotten used to pretending like I don't want to put my head in a blender set to puree in public-I kind of had to, growing up-that, and figuring out the difference between what people say and what they think so I don't accidentally answer their thoughts-it freaks the Muggles out, you know?-and when I'm really into a conversation or super focused it gets easier to block out everything else-but..."

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

"That's..."

Malfoy didn't seem to know how to respond to that, no wonder.

"Enough to make anyone completely bloody bonkers crazy?" I offered.

"And also explains a lot," he mused dryly.

"You are such a jerk-" I shot back without any real heat, rolling my eyes.

Malfoy just smirked at me.

Slowly, his smug expression faded, and he sighed.

"Look, Jewel-" he said seriously and, taken off guard by the use of my first name(which was probably the point), my eyes snapped up, "really...I'm not going to tell anyone. To be honest," he added, "I kind of like knowing that I know and Potter and his lot don't-and that I was smart enough to work it out, and they weren't."

-yeah, that tracks.

I scanned his expression for a moment but, with my telepathy, I could tell that he was telling the truth(as he knew it right now, there's still a good chance he'll use it against me later)-and I had no clue how to feel about it.

The pressure on my chest loosened, and I let out a breath.

"If you do-" I pointed at him threateningly.

"You'll gut me with a toasting fork?" he intoned, "then roll my body into the lake, and roast marshmallows?"

"Good to know we're on the same page," I huffed, turning back around.

Malfoy looked down with a flicker of what I would've suspected was a smile, had I not known better.

"-you do know the password, right?" I checked. "Like, you aren't stranded out here pleading with a wall-the wrong one, at that, which is just brilliant-regretting your life choices and cursing out all parties involved, too? Because with the way my night's going..."

"Obviously I know the password," he drawled.

"Sooo...?"

"Now that, I will use to blackmail you-" he informed me with a smirk.

"Yeah, I figured as much," I sighed. "What do you want?"

The last thing I expected him to say, was: "I want to know why you pushed me out of the way of those books at Flourish and Blotts."

I looked over, startled.

Malfoy was watching me closely.

"Why?" I asked, my mouth feeling weirdly dry.

"I just do," he stated. "You say you hate me, so why would you push me out of the way?"

At a loss for words, I looked away, my face feeling suddenly hot.

"Look, I just-I don't know-"

"You don't know?"

"It was just this impulsive thing-" I said, but I was still blushing, and I felt flustered, and I couldn't work out why, "I saw you, and I saw the books, and I acted-I don't know why, I just-did-"

Malfoy looked unsatisfied by that answer(and almost disappointed, like he'd hoped it was because of something else)-but, before I could get a good read on him, he'd turned around to face the wall behind us.

"Superus."

The wall shifted, and I quickly straightened back up.

The voices of the students still downstairs washed over us, and the common room lamps bathed us in greenish light.

Glancing at Malfoy, I hesitated in the entryway, biting my lip.

"Look, Malfoy-"

"Jewel!"

We looked up quickly to see Pansy Tracey and Daphne hurrying over.

"Thank Merlin! We thought you were expelled!" Tracey was visibly relieved, "I mean, when you never showed at dinner-"

To my surprise, Pansy hugged me.

I was slightly less surprised when she pulled back, grabbed my arms, and demanded, "Everyone's saying you, Potter and Weasley flew a car to Hogwarts-is it true? I mean, you do a lot of stupid, mental stuff, but-"

She stopped suddenly, eyeing my outfit.

"...What are you wearing?"

"It's cute, right?" I said with a grin, readjusting my jacket.

"Where are your shoes?" she questioned.

I grimaced, wriggling my toes.

"It's a long story," I sighed melancholically, "but I like to imagine they're happy."

She gave me a weird look.

"Who cares what she's wearing?" Daphne interrupted impatiently, "did you, or did you not, fly a car to Hogwarts?"

"Well, Ron was driving, but-"

"Wait, seriously?" Malfoy looked at me incredulously. "You, Potter and Weasley actually flew a car to school?"

"Technically, we stole it, and then we flew it-"

"What do you mean you stole it?!" Tracey exclaimed.

"Also Ron," I said. "Harry was kind of the lookout-and it belongs to his dad, so technically he wasn't really stealing it so much as borrowing it without permission with iffy intentions of giving it back-"

"So, stealing," Malfoy remarked.

"Eh," I said, making a half-and-half gesture. "We didn't get expelled, or arrested, or lose any house points, so it's probably fine."

"So, let me get this straight-" he deadpanned, "you stole a car, flew it to school-and you didn't even get in trouble?"

"We even made the papers-Muggles spotted us-" I added, further shocking them, "they obviously didn't know who we were though, because if they did we probably would've gotten more than a slap on the wrist-and detention, obviously-"

"And you didn't lose a single house point?" Pansy said disbelievingly.

"Technically, school hasn't started, so..."

"Nice," Daphne complimented.

"I know, right?" I agreed. "I wish I could take credit, but that one was all Harry-I like to think I'm rubbing off on him-"

"You know how most people have that little angel on their shoulder?" Tracey commented, looking suddenly exhausted. "I think we need to have a talk with yours."

"You can try, but I think the little cynic in the back of my head gave it alcohol poisoning."

She literally did not even seem to know how to respond to that statement.

"Alright-" Pansy interjected, "tell us everything-spare no detail-"

"I promise I'll fill you guys in-" I swore, fighting a yawn, "but I almost died-again-and near-death experiences make me sleepy, and I just want to go curl up in bed-raincheck?"

"Wait, you almost died? How?" Malfoy demanded.

"Clearly, you've never seen Ron's driving," I snorted.

They all stared at me.

"Tomorrow night, alright?" I yawned, stretching, "we can sneak down after curfew again-I'll even swing by the kitchens-"

"Fine," Pansy said reluctantly, before pointing at me. "But it better be good."

"Oh, trust me-it is."

"Come on, Potter-you look like you're about to fall over," Daphne said, grabbing my arm-only to stop short when I flinched.

She turned my arm over, revealing the dried blood on my sleeve.

"Is that blood?!-" Tracey squeaked.

"She's bleeding?" Malfoy straightened, and for a moment I could've sworn he looked almost concerned.

"It's just a scratch-Hedwig accidentally-ish got me when the car came to life and dumped us out-"

"The car 'came to life?'" Pansy echoed dumbly.

"Told you it was good."

Once again, they all just stared at me for a moment.

"Why is it always you?" Malfoy wondered seriously.

"I prefer to think it's always Harry-" I informed him wryly, "and that I just get caught up in it because, otherwise, he'd be really dead-Ron too-"

"That, or you're a lunatic-" Daphne snorted, "and cursed-"

I pretended to think about it.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure it's Harry."

Daphne just rolled her eyes, unamused.

"Come on, lunatic."

She dragged me away, grabbing my non-bloody arm this time, and Pansy and Tracey were quick to follow.

I glanced back over my shoulder at Malfoy, and he rose an eyebrow at me.

My mouth went dry and I quickly turned back around, conflicted(and still reeling from the fact that he knows-and that, for some reason, he wasn't going to tell anyone, or use it against me, which feels more and more like a trap the more I think about it; I mean, it's Malfoy, he has to be playing me...right?).

"Glad to see you weren't kicked out, Potter!" Pucey hollered from across the room. "It would've sucked to have to find a new Beater!"

"Nice to see you care, Pucey!"

Pucey grinned at me.

People kept stopping us as Daphne attempted to drag me through the crowd and over to the girl's stairs and, finally, she got fed up.

"Okay, yes, Jewel, her idiot brother, and that Weasley kid flew a car to Hogwarts!" she said loudly, "No, they weren't expelled! No, Slytherin and Gryffindor didn't lose any house points-school hasn't even started, we don't have any points to lose! And yes, Jewel probably has detention! Everyone good? Fantastic!"

"Nice," I complimented.

"Thank you," she said, smirking. "Now, come on-if you fall asleep halfway up the stairs, we will leave you there-"

"Duly noted."


- Jewel is literally just Slytherin Neville XD, and it wasn't even intentional (Neville: "I've lost the password!" Jewel: "I've lost my entire common room!").

Reviews/Replies*̥˚✧!

Leofrick: Yeah, Jewel's kinda over here like-"bUt HoW cOuLd hE fIgUre iT oUt?!" when it was hilariously/ridiculously obvious to anyone who knows about Legilimency and spends five minutes with her. She and Malfoy have every single class together and spend most of their time bickering with each other. He knew something was up, spent weeks trying to work it out based on her behaviour, and she was not subtle at all because she was a mess. Also, eleven. And, I mean, Snape did have a point about her needing someone there when he can't be-and Harry only has the one class with her, Malfoy's with her all day. They'll definitely end up closer through this too, what with Jewel being forced to trust him with something so big for her-and him actually proving himself worthy of that trust. At least, when it comes to her.

James Birdsong: Thanks! Happy you think so! :)

Kukuhimanpr: ha, yeah. But I've read some pretty weird shit in fanfics. There are literally NarutoxMy Little Pony and NarutoxCharlie & The Chocolate Factory crossovers. People are weird.

Ellie. Cast4: Thank you so much! :) As for whether or not she's a Parselmouth/etc., you'll find out soon enough ;). It's always hard finding new ways for characters to respond to situations in fandoms that are so huge/well-known (and this isn't my first Harry Potter fanfic either), so I'm glad you think Jewel and her story/responses are fresh/interesting.