Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Christmas Ball Repercussions

It's a really, really good thing Snape likes me. Ryua had found Dobby waiting for her (out of sight of Draco, of course) in the common room when she got back from the ball. She was initially shocked and happy to see him, and he hugged her around the waist, squeaking, "Dobby is very happy to see Miss, Dobby is working here now... Miss isn't angry, is she?" After numerous reassurances, Dobby relaxed enough to let go and take several deep, gulping breaths, wiping large tears of joy on his horrendous purple tie. Suddenly he hiccupped and his eyes went wide. "Dobby is here to tell Miss something. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore says, 'Tell Miss Malfoy to talk to Professor Snape, she is doing things she has to talk about.'"

"Oh... Uh, thanks Dobby. I'd better go do that... Nice to see you..." So, Ryua walked down the corridor, feeling very glad that Professor Snape liked her so much. Assaulting a fellow student wasn't something taken lightly in Hogwarts, especially if it caused real injury. She knocked hesitantly at his door, and opened the door at his curt call. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes." Snape was sitting behind his desk, looking surprisingly satisfied. Probably because of all the students he'd been deducting points from in the garden, she reflected. "Mr. Zabini arrived in the hospital wing ten minutes ago, holding his tongue in his mouth with one hand, dripping blood all the way down to the garden."

"Ah."

"He seemed quite incensed, on the surface, covering a thick layer of fear. Madam Pomfrey has said that he keeps jumping at sudden movements, and is scanning the shadows."

"Oh."

"In particular, he seemed quite unwilling to return to the common room until I had spoken with you."

"I see."

"You realize you have to defend yourself a little. I cannot fabricate an entire story."

"Sir, do you honestly think I could bite his tongue off without his very direct involvement?"

Snape grinned, a very rare expression on his face. "I see. I take it he was acting very much against your orders."

"Against mine, yes. Unfortunately, he... well, sort of he has kind of has permission already."

The momentary happy expression on his face was replaced by fury. "If we were not in Hogwarts, in my very own office, with one of the few people I trust, I would not say this. Your father is an extremely backwards-thinking fool. Doing something this ridiculously old-fashioned and restrictive to one such as yourself is not only repulsive, it's stupid."

"Stupid?" Ryua was teetering between joyful amusement and fear at his words.

"Yes. He is hidebound, and foolish to think you will stay in his hidebound rules. One way or another, he will realize this. And I doubt you will have much difficulty in making your own way. Anyway," Snape said, jotting down a few notes, "I will tell the headmaster that you were assaulted and were simply defending yourself in the best way available. It is, of course, the conclusion he already came to, but we needed your confirmation."

"So, I'm not expelled?"

"No." Snape was the firmest Ryua had ever seen him. "Anyone is more than entitled to defend themselves in such a situation. And if your father, or anyone else ever tries to say different, tell me. They will not hold that attitude for long."

"Thank you, sir." And Ryua left, before she got mushy or something. Snape, the bitter, silent, distant Potions master was the closest thing Ryua had to a true father figure, at least she thought so. He wasn't nearly so nice as Mr. Weasley seemed to be, and was certainly more willing to leave her to her own devices than her own F-father. But, she mused, anyone who offers to torture people who disagree with me has to be on my side, right?

It turned out that Zabini wasn't any more likely to spread the events of that night than she. He completely avoided her, which was preferable to her, and it only took a cool glare to dissuade any questions. It wasn't until school started up again, actually, that she discovered anyone else had gone through any troubles that night.

Pansy Parkinson, for a completely unexpected change, woke Ryua up on Monday. "Look at this," she squealed, tossing a copy of the Daily Prophet at Ryua's head. She caught it, pushing herself up to a sitting position to read the paper. The front page was covered with a picture of a ducking Hagrid, and a large, nasty article written by none other than Rita Skeeter.

"Hagrid's half-giant?" Ryua asked, looking up from the article.

"Yeah, can you believe it? He could have been grinding our bones for his bread, or something creepy like that."

"Right..." What Ryua wondered was how Rita kept coming up with this stuff. There was no way she could have been in Hogwarts to hear Hagrid talking, someone would have seen her. And she had never for a moment believed that Harry cried about his parents at night, and he certainly wouldn't have admitted it to the world if he had.

Unfortunately, she had appeared to come up with something true this time. Hagrid wasn't teaching when they got to Care of Magical Creatures, and there was a unicorn instead of the two last Blast-Ended Skrewts. "What's going on? That stupid article can't be true, can it?" Ryua asked the Trio.

"What? What article?" Ron said.

"So that's why no one's surprised," Hermionie said thoughtfully.

"I assume Rita Skeeter's shoveled out something horrid about Hagrid this time." Harry was understandably bitter about Skeeter.

"You're absolutely right, Potter," Draco drawled, swaggering over. "There you go, hate to break it to you..."

Harry snatched the paper. You'd think, by now, they'd be getting a subscription themselves instead of waiting to find out from my brother. "How did she find out?" Ryua backed slowly out of the group, as they started to argue back and forth. She hated it when they fought, because she wanted to support her friends, and her brother at the same time... it just was a lose-lose situation. Instead, she went over to pet the unicorn, blissfully ignoring everything but the soft white fur.