Jessica's A/N: Alright, back by popular demand * cough cough* I present to you Chapter 3 of our lil book here. And listen up! For just a PROLOGUE, I got more attention at Astronomytower than I did here! What kind of bogus is that!? Huh!?* almost breaks her wand in half, she's so pissed off * Neways! Please enjoy the story ¬¬ Thanks, Kaylee, I knew you'd understand ;) (why? Because she's a loyal REVIEWER!) Neway! Onwords!
Chapter 3
Draco Malfoy.
His name was Draco Malfoy.
No. His name was Draco Vinnins.
Remember that. Draco Vinnins.
"Draco! Oooh, you're so cute!"
"Draco! What's your last name? I bet it's as sexy as your first name," purred a fourth year.
"Vinnins," he spat out rather rudely as he shoved his way towards breakfast. God, where had all these Gryffindor girls come from? Didn't they need to get their beauty sleep? Honestly!
"Oh, hmmm. . .You know, we've got a small little dance coming up 'round Christmas. . .Want to go with me?" A fifth year latched herself onto Draco's arm, reminding him all over again of a certain Pansy Parkinson.
"I'll think about it."
The first one who had spoken, a sixth year, pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Well, while you're thinking about it, would you like to escort me to breakfast?"
"Um, no. I've really gotta—"
The fourth year giggled. "How about escorting me then, Draco Vinnins?"
"Eh, no, that's okay, I mean—"
The fifth year hugged his arm tighter, and he felt it slowly going numb. "Sooo, Draco, tell me. . .When do you want to go to the dance with me—"
"I never said I'd go," Draco corrected, "I said—"
"Uh, excuse me, people, ladies, whatever you are, but I need to speak to Malfoy, I mean, ahem, Vinnins, alone."
Draco and the others whirled to see Melissa there, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Now."
"Right." Draco nodded, relief sweeping through him. "Yeah, so uh, you girls," he said loudly, "better get out —she will uh take her wand and stick it up your ass and—"
"Okay, fine," the girls pouted. "We're going." And one by one, all batting their lashes, they left.
"Thanks," Draco breathed to Melissa before he could stop himself.
She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, brushing past him. "Don't worry about it, Malfoy."
"Oh, so now I'm Malfoy again?" He cast her a dark look, eyes glinting.
"I thought that's what you wanted to be called. . .Malfoy." And before he could open his mouth to reply, she turned and walked out of the common room.
*~*~*~*~*
Jessica sat in the library, books surrounding her, eyes scanning over the words as she scribbled down on her sheets of parchments. She pushed her hair out of her way, the strands falling out of its messy bun, and felt her hand beginning to ache.
Sighing, she sat back in her chair, rubbing her sore hand. "All this damn homework. . ." she muttered under her breath, before picking up her quill again. She needed to get next week's essay over and done with.
"Studying too hard again?"
She looked up, startled, only to see warm, brown eyes watching her. "Oh, Remus," she breathed. "You scared me."
He chuckled, taking a seat next to her, ceremoniously moving some of her books out of the way. "I see that."
"Where's your friends?"
"Back in the Great Hall, eating like a bunch of. . .wild animals."
She smiled faintly, turning back to her work. "Yeah, that's typical."
"Lily particularly moody lately?"
"Well, as it happens, she's always moody, so, my friend, you're going to have to be more specific."
A faint blush colored his lightly tanned cheeks. "Moodier than usual, then."
"Yep." Finished with her Potions essay, she folded up the parchment and stuck it in her Potions book—she wasn't really that organized.
"Hm." Remus raised an eyebrow. "Thought you would've taken more care of that."
She shrugged. "Professor Hector doesn't really mind if I do or not, as long as I get it done."
"What kind of parents name their kid Hector anyway?"
She laughed, the sound sweet to his ears. "I don't know."
"It was hypothetical, Jess," he teased.
"Oh," she replied, blushing now, as well. She hit his arm playfully.
"Well, um. . ." He stood up abruptly. "I've uh. . .I've got to go. . ."
"Okay." She frowned. "What's wrong?"
He took a few, deep breaths, saying quickly, "JessIdon'tthinkwecanbefriendsanymore."
She blinked. "What?"
"I. . .I don't think, Jess, that we can be friends anymore. . ."
"O-Oh."
"I've got to go. . .Bye." And with that, he rushed out of the library.
Jessica stared after him, hurt, eyes watering, and wondered what the hell had just happened.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You eat too much."
Melissa shrugged as Draco stared at her as she gobbled down a piece of toast. "Your point?"
"How can you eat that much and yet maintain your skinniness? Is there some kind of secret or something?"
"High metabolism."
"Yeah, that'll do it." Draco frowned, wondering why it felt different to sit at the Gryffindor table rather than at the Slytherin one. Was there some sort of pride for sitting with the Gryffindors? Pride for being a Gryffindor now himself? How would that change when he went back to the future and became a Slytherin again? Wouldn't, somewhere in a deep part of him, he still be a Gryffindor?
He sighed, closing his eyes, and stirred his oatmeal around idly, not really paying attention to what he was doing. Maybe it wasn't pride—he felt that for sitting at the Slytherin table, for being a Slytherin.
Don't lie to yourself, he thought, opening his eyes halfway, hand quitting its circular movements of his spoon in his food. You didn't feel pride. You felt shame. Because pride consists of knowing you're doing something right in your views and feeling proud of it. How can I be proud of the thousands of deaths each day caused by my father? How can I be proud of knowing that I, too, want to be a Death Eater? I can't help it! He's got it so drilled into me that I can't even think of having a life without so much secrecy, without so much evil, without so much God damn killing!
All I wanted when I grew up was to have a normal, loving family. Was that too much to ask for? Instead, I was stuck with a father who drank and participated in evil doings. A mother who was too scared to stand up to her husband, afraid that he would kick her out and she'd have nowhere else to go because her own parents were ashamed of the Ravenclaw who married one of the most feared Slytherins.
I wanted to be friends with Potter—just once, I could have my own bit of fame that would consist of good doing. But no, he chose those poor, pathetic Weasleys over power.
Maybe it is all my fault. Maybe if I just wasn't so. . .so. . .concerned about damn Malfoy honor. . .
Under the table his one free hand tightened into a fist. Father, one day I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you for doing this to me, you heartless bastard.
This resolved, he lifted his spoon to actually take a bite out of his oatmeal when Melissa stood from the table. Raising a delicate eyebrow, he asked, "Where are you going, Jones?"
"Um. . .I haven't seen my aunt since I got here. . .She wasn't even here last night. I asked that girl Brittany and she told me Aunt Jesse was studying." Melissa laughed, a blush gracing her cheeks. "Man, that's not even like her now. She always collects those weird things and is a total party girl. It's hard to believe she would study."
Draco considered this, studying his oatmeal again. There's a lot missing. . .Maybe we can find out what happened in Harry's parents past that changed everyone in the end. . .And then I can tell Father. . .
He let the thought trail off as he sighed, lifting the spoon to his lips, taking in the warm food. "Alright. Is there any place you want to meet before we go and see Dumbledore and that Potter Wannabe so we can discuss how to get back to the future?"
"Oh, that was today, wasn't it?" She smiled. "Sorry, kinda forgot."
Draco let out a long, weary sigh. "Well?" His patience wasn't usually at its fullest today. In fact, it was close to just plain out zero tolerance for anything.
"How about by the lake?"
Draco cast her an annoyed look as he placed his spoon down again—he wasn't really hungry anymore. "Why there?"
She shrugged. "Well, I thought that after I met up with my aunt—that's if I can find her—I'd go take a read by there." She frowned a little. "Is that a problem, Malfoy?"
"No." He stood up, bowing his head, continuing to avert her eyes. "It's fine."
She reached out a hand, touching his forearm through the robes with just a gentle brush of fingers. "Are you okay?"
"Don't touch me," he whispered, the words barely audible. "I don't like to be touched."
Slowly, albeit reluctantly, she withdrew her hand. "Sorry I asked," she mumbled.
"Hn. I'll meet you by the lake in a couple of hours. If you're not there, I'll warn you right now—my patience is pretty thin. It won't be pretty when I find you."
"I'll keep that in mind, Malfoy." Her eyes narrowed.
"And keep it down, will you?" he hissed. "No one is supposed to know my last name is Malfoy."
She gestured around. "There's no one in the Great Hall but us. What are you so worried about?"
"I. . .I don't know. I just. . ." He shrugged, turning to walk out of the Hall. He paused when he was right beside her, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "There's something odd. I can sense it. Don't ask me how. . .But there's bound to be a reason why Potter's parent's past is so secretive, right?"
"I-I guess." She swallowed, staring straight ahead.
"Good. We'll talk more on it later. Just find out all you can for now until I meet up with you again."
"Why?" she spat out angrily. "So you can go back home and tell your father secrets that'll help You-Know-Who? I don't think so."
A smirk crossed his lips. "You know, I would have figured, Jones, that you would have referred to the Dark Lord by his real name—Lord Voldemort. Scared?"
She bowed her head, bangs hiding her eyes from view. "You would be scared, too, Malfoy, if the only person that you cared about still alive died at the hands of the most feared Dark wizard to ever walk the earth. Especially if they were a powerful witch or wizard."
He turned to her then, narrowing his eyes, but she kept on looking straight ahead, side facing him. "What are you talking about?"
"We'll talk later." She turned and started out of the Great Hall, not giving a glance back.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lily walked down the hallways towards the Gryffindor common room, yawning, blinking tired, green eyes. She really hadn't gotten much sleep last night, what with waiting for her good friend Jessica to get back from the library.
Lily Evans would best be described as a tomboy, but not terribly so. Even though she hated makeup and dresses and the like, she still had her feminine side every once in a while.
She was short for her age, but average in a way, and her short cropped red hair actually suited her. Her green eyes were entrancing when they weren't smoldering with that tireless fire that always lit him, directed towards the Marauders the most.
She had had her share of beating up boys, along with her share of detentions, but other than that, her record was clean.
Lily stopped, however, in the middle of a particularly deserted corridor that only she and, most likely, the Marauders used.
Was it her, or did a rustling sound of footsteps just pass by?
Eyes narrowing, now fully awake, Lily bit her lip and quickly and quietly moved into the shadows and a small corner, peering behind the stone wall, alert and ready. One hand moved down to her wand sticking out of her pocket, only to find it missing.
Lily gasped, then covered her mouth with her hands.
Where was her wand? Had she left it back up in her dorm in her trunk? But no, she specifically remembered placing it in her pocket. Could someone have taken it earlier at breakfast? Not likely—everyone had been too busy shoveling food into their mouths. What about that Potter and his friends? No, they weren't stupid enough. Definitely not.
She swallowed.
That only meant one thing.
Someone had taken her wand. And it wasn't any of the Marauders.
She froze. There it was again. That sound. That rustling of footsteps on the floor.
Who's out there? she thought.
Her blood ran like liquid ice through her veins, and her breaths came in short, uneven gasps.
"That Potter boy," she heard someone whisper faintly and immediately tried to calm her breathing—she didn't need anyone to hear her. "And those two new kids. . .Something's suspicious. They might interfere with our plans." The voice was silky deep.
"Hahaha, you've got to be joking." This one was feminine, high and annoying to Lily's ears—she never did care for those ditzy sounding girls that had the laughs that could make you run your nails down a chalkboard. "Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone harmful into the school."
"I never said they were harmful." A rustling of robes, and the first voice took on an irritated tone. "To the school, that is. They'd be harmful to us. And besides—aren't we harmful?"
"Mmm, that's beside the point, dahling," the second voice purred.
"Keep your hands to yourself," snarled the man. "Have you found it yet?"
"The necklace? Unfortunately, no. Do you have any idea who would carry it?"
"It wouldn't be Potter—it's a girl's necklace."
"Right. And keep in mind that there are plenty of girls in this school."
"It wouldn't be a Slytherin girl—they would have handed it over already."
"True." The second voice was thoughtful.
Slowly, Lily began moving closer along the wall, biting her bottom lip again, not daring to breathe, trying to hear more.
"Potter—keep an eye on him."
"Will do."
"We need him for—"
Lily's foot twisted in her trailing robes and made a sharp scuffling noise. She froze once more, eyes going wide.
"Did you hear that?" the first voice hissed.
Lily closed her eyes, staying absolutely still, chest heaving up and down as she fought to keep from yelling out and running as fast as her legs could carry her.
"Is someone here?" the second voice whispered cautiously.
Slowly, the footsteps began coming towards her hiding spot, and the closer they came, the louder they were heard, and the faster Lily's heart pounded against her ribcage—she was sure anyone could hear it.
Closer. . .Closer. . .
She began to see faint outlines of two figures as her eyes snapped open again.
And then, there was a pause.
"I don't see anyone. We should leave, though, before someone does actually find us." It was the second voice.
"Yes, all right. Let's go."
And the two figures turned and walked away in the opposite direction.
Lily waited until the footsteps were gone completely before she collapsed against the stone wall, letting out a long, yet quiet breath, closing her eyes. Swallowing seconds later, she came out of her hiding spot, looked both ways, then scurried off towards the direction of a more direct route towards the common room for Gryffindor.
Two shadowy figures watched her leave from another corner farther down the hallway.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Did you see your aunt?"
"No—no one could find her anywhere. Pretty odd, isn't it? It's as if Fate is telling me I shouldn't see her just yet."
Draco looked up at the sky, hands in pockets as a soft breeze blew through, rustling his hair a little. Off in the distance, dark clouds full of rain rumbled, lightning streaking across the surface of them. "You believe in Fate?"
"Up to a certain extent."
"What about coincidences?" He cast a quick look down at her, then back up as if he had done no such thing.
He missed the short-lived small smile that crossed her lips as she closed her book. "Not really, no."
"So, like, you don't believe that it was a coincidence that the potion took us back in time farther than it was supposed to? That, technically, it screwed up?" He bowed his head, staring out at the water beginning to lap faster against the sandy shore—the storm was coming quickly.
She leaned forward, chuckling a little. "I don't believe that it's a coincidence that the potion screwed up—I think that Fate caused it to happen. What, don't you?"
Draco sighed softly, but it was lost on the now whipping winds that beat against his legs, causing his robes to twirl around them. "I don't believe in coincidences—or Fate."
"How can you do that? I mean, how can you not believe in either one of them?" Intrigued, she raised an eyebrow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Well, for starters," he began, casting an uneasy glance up at the sky again—they should be getting inside soon—"Fate is just something that's way too easy. I don't like the thought of not having control over my life, you know? And then, with coincidence, that's just way too easier than Fate. Nothing's coincidence."
"Then if nothing's coincidence, it's planned out somehow."
"Not exactly." He lifted a delicate eyebrow.
She bit her lip in puzzlement. "I don't get you, Malfoy. You're really confusing me."
"Yeah, well, I seem to confuse a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.
"Son, you're a liar! How can you sit here and lie to me about that when you know you're going to get a good beating for doing it!?"
Shivering involuntarily, he turned to Melissa at last, keeping his face emotionless. "Give me an example of your Fate and coincidences."
Melissa sighed, shaking her head, and sat her book beside her on the ground. "Take love at first sight."
Draco's eyebrow raised again, a smirk dancing across his lips. "I knew I was handsome and dead sexy, but I must admit, I never thought I'd meet someone so damn bold."
She laughed, grabbing a handful of grass and throwing it at him. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. You know that's not what I meant." When he nodded, eyes flickering, she continued. "Love at first sight—way too easy. I mean, how the Hell can you be in love with someone at first sight? You haven't even come to realize yet your true feelings, nor do you even know the person. A woman, or man, knows when they give their heart away. Right?"
Draco crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyes dancing with mild amusement. "Well, not that I don't agree with you or anything, but you can't control what your heart does, who it falls for—love is something unpredictable, uncontrollable."
"Then you do believe in Fate." She tilted her head to the side.
He raised a finger, the smirk never leaving. "Not exactly. Love is something on its own, has nothing to do with Fate. Just because you can't control how you feel, that doesn't necessarily mean that Fate has a part in it."
"Then you're saying love is Fate." She giggled, then immediately realized she never giggled and stopped.
"No." He cast her an annoyed look. "I'm not saying that."
"Malfoy, then what are you saying? You're giving me a migraine."
Abruptly, rain began to splatter down to where they stood, or rather, sat, and thunder rumbled above them.
He sighed. "Look, I'll explain later. Right now we have to go have our daily meeting with Dumbledore so he can tell us if he's found anything out."
"Right." She nodded, grabbing her book.
Turning on his heel, hands still in his pockets, he strolled off in the direction of the castle. When it began raining harder, he gritted his teeth and started to run.
Muttering incoherent things, Melissa helped herself up and ran after him. When she finally caught up with him, slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed, she grabbed his arm, turned him around, and kicked him hard in the shin.
"OW!" he yelped, glaring furiously, shivering as the rain soaked through his clothing and to the bone. "What the bloody Hell was that for!?"
"For your manners!" She kicked him again in the shins. "And this is for your foul mouth!"
"Woman, stop hitting me!" he shouted, cheeks flushed now from his anger—no one outside the family line hit a Malfoy and got away with it.
"And this—" glaring, as well, she kicked him right between his legs "—is for not using my name and treating me as if I'm on a lower status than you." Harrumphing, she turned and stormed off towards the warm, dry safety from the rain, otherwise known as Hogwarts.
Draco, muttering every curse word he knew under his breath, not wanting to give her the benefit of his pain, swallowed it all back and limped after her as best he could.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So, Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?"
"Eek, James, come on, I know there are better pick-up lines out there than that."
"Ugh, sorry, Sirius, I'm trying my best."
"Well, try harder!"
"Okay." James, standing before a sitting Sirius—who was currently batting his lashes flirtatiously and seductively, of all things, on a couch in front of the fire—sighed and nodded. He cleared his throat, straightening, and tried again. "Do you work at the Owl Post, baby, because I saw you checking out my package." He flashed a charming grin that would cause girls to melt if they ever saw it—which he was careful not to let happen. The smile, anyway.
Sirius rolled his eyes and fell over. He waved his hand dismissively. "Pathetic. Please. Just go away." He waved his hand again. "Tata."
James' shoulders slumped. "But, Sirrrriussss," he whined.
"NO. It's Siri. Siri. Siri the French babe."
"Oh, my God. Sirius, people are starting to stare," he hissed.
"Well, when you ask out Lily, what do you expect to happen?"
"Something not along the lines of, 'Lil. Lil. Lil the flower.'"
Sirius nodded. "Good point."
James sighed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "Exactly, Mr. Black!"
"But still—it could happen."
"ARGH!" James threw a pillow at Sirius, who caught it, grinning.
"For a Keeper, you sure do throw like shit."
"Bite my fucking ass, Sirius."
"Sounds tasty."
"Ugh! You are impossible!"
"Come on—I'm not serious."
"Sure you are," James snarled, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, okay, technically, I am, but still!"
"May you rot in Hell, Padfoot."
"And may your fucking ass always be there to haunt me, Prongs."
"I'm going to bed." James was already heading towards the stairs that led up to their dorm room.
"When it's nearly lunch?" Sirius laughed after him.
"Fine then: I'm taking a nap," James growled, stomping up the stairs.
"I don't even know why you want to ask Lily out, Prongs! She's a she-devil! All she's done is beat the shit out of you!" Sirius yelled after him.
James could practically feel every eye on him. "Yes, well, you know the plan, Sirius."
"Oh. The Plan. The Plan." Sirius placed a hand to his heart, rolling his eyes heavenward. He made his fingers into quotation marks. "We can't forget 'The Plan.'"
James just ignored him, and a resounding slam could be heard moments later as the fifth year boy's dormitory door almost flew off its hinges.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Why do I get the feeling I was just being discussed?" Lily asked as she walked into the common room, every eye on her.
Sirius blanched, then quickly stood, bowed, made a cross sign with his hands, and ran as fast as he could in the direction of his dorm.
Raising an eyebrow, she shrugged, asked rather loudly to the quiet residents of Gryffindor Tower, "Anyone seen Jess or Britt?"
They all pointed either towards the direction of the girl's staircase or the exit of the common room.
"I'm guessing Jess is at the library and Britt is upstairs," Lily muttered under her breath. She told the others, "Thanks," and headed up in the direction of her dorm.
She sighed wearily, still confused about her wand. Who could have taken it? And more importantly, the voices she had heard talking kept plaguing her mind. Should she tell someone about it? Particularly Dumbledore? But. . .That could lead to trouble. . .She might have just been imagining things. . .Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone harmful into the school, right?
She swallowed, an uneasy feeling persisting at the back of her mind. She felt clammy, and sweat was forming along her brow. Beneath her long-sleeved shirt and jeans she was hot and sticky.
What would anyone want with Potter? Was there something about him that no one else knew? If so, Dumbledore would have done his best to keep it quiet—it wasn't likely that anyone would find out about it. Or maybe Dumbledore didn't know? Lily shook her head. That really seemed unlikely.
Then again, trouble had been stirring up in the past year or so, and deaths had begun to happen, sending the world of happiness the wizards had just begun to cherish into chaos. The Ministry, from what she had heard from Brittany (her cousin worked there) was up to their heads in murders and killings.
Lily hugged herself to ward off a sudden chill.
Most of the victims had been Muggle-born wizards and witches.
Lily was a Muggle-born witch.
She forcefully reminded herself that she was safe as long as Dumbledore ran the school, looked over it. After all, he wouldn't let any harm come to them, right? He loved every single student that resided within the school.
She laughed it off softly—she was just jumping to conclusions.
But the two people talking. . .
Abruptly, just now realizing she had stopped in the middle of the staircase, she remembered Lucius Malfoy at the beginning of the school year. He had to be a seventh year about now, but it didn't matter—the cool, handsome young man had taunted her relentlessly this year, and yet she had no idea why.
"All you Mudbloods will die, and Lily, you'll probably be one of the first to go once Dumbledore falls to the uprising Dark Lord," Lucius snarled to her in the train compartment on their way to Hogwarts.
"Oh, yeah, Malfoy, and who would that be?" Lily snarled back, glaring furiously, hand gripping her wand within her robes—she had just changed.
"He is known as Lord Voldemort."
"Lord Voldemort," Lily whispered to herself. I really need to talk to Dumbledore. . .
Sighing, shaking her head, she walked the rest of the way to her dorm, then knocked lightly on the door, afterwards stepping back to wait for a few moments. When no answer came, she nodded to herself and walked in. The occupants of the room had done this since their first year, taking into mind that one of the others might be changing or finishing up a diary entry or even making out with someone, even though McGonagall prohibited that.
Brittany sat on her bed, sighing, scribbling things down, looking over notes and certain passages in the open books propped up around her.
"It's only Saturday, Britt—and nearly lunch."
Brittany cast her a cool look. "Yes, well, you'd be studying extra hard too if Professor Hector was on your ass all the time."
Unfazed, Lily shrugged, then remembered what she had come up here for—usually, she preferred the outdoors to the stuffiness of the castle. "Have you seen my wand?"
Brittany paused in her work, drew out her own wand, muttered, "Accio wand," then continued reading a paragraph on the eclipse setting of a butterwing potion that would cure small wounds caused by a werewolf, yet not cure the werewolf blood now in the person itself if bitten. "Honestly, Lils, can't you keep up with that thing?"
Lily opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it and shut it. Didn't do good to mess with the girl when she was in a particularly bad mood.
Her wand soared over to her, landing in her outstretched palm as she reached for it. She vaguely noticed it had come from the direction of the bathroom.
She chuckled nervously at the back of her mind. See, Lils, nothing to worry about. You simply left your wand in the bathroom when you were in such a hurry to get to breakfast earlier this morning.
Then there was the other thing she had come here for.
Sighing, Lily asked softly, "Britt, do you or Jess own some sort of necklace?"
Brittany shook her head no, pushing her reading glasses up her nose, not lifting her eyes from the book. "Not me. . .But I think Jess had this odd one she told me she received from her grandmother a couple of years ago before the woman passed away."
Lily could feel her blood freezing again. Shaking her head and forcing herself to take a calm breath, she continued to ask two more things, "Is Jess in the library? And if she is, how come you're not in there studying with her?"
"She's in there, alright. But, knowing her, she's probably taken up the whole entire table by now. Besides, it's kinda peaceful in the dorm at the moment."
"Right." Lily nodded, then sighed and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a while. Want me to sneak you up some lunch when the time comes?"
She looked over her shoulder to see Brittany nod, then absorb herself in her books once more. Sighing again, she headed out the door and towards the library.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*