Chapter 3

She made her way to her room, and was surprised to find her suitcases not only carried up, but her clothes were unpacked, and her bed was made up with the She-Ra bed sheets that she still held onto from the 80's. She flopped on her bed, glad for the privacy, and glad that she didn't have to answer to anybody until the morning. She turned around so that her stomach was down, and she hugged her pillow. Suddenly, without warning, a scream erupted from her mouth, and she muffled it with her pillow. Then she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stomped around rapidly.

"Ugh! Of all the nerve! That spineless, insufferable, asinine- why, by just insinuating that I'm lazy! And Professor Snape! Suggesting that I'm going to-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I wish that they would all sod off!" She completed her rant with a phrase she learned in London this past summer. She didn't notice the slippers that had been laid out near her bed, and caught her foot on one of them. Her body jumped up, did a double axle in the air, and flew down. She landed hard on the floor. She looked around blankly, not seeing anything, but fully realizing that her world was out of order, and she did something that she couldn't remember doing for years; Lorelai Green burst into tears.

And this is where Millicent found her a moment later. She had been tending to a chipped nail and had spilled her open nail polish remover when she heard the thump from next door. "What are you doing?" she asked, bored. She began tapping her foot, and got disgusted when she received no response except Lorelai's sobs. She turned around and slammed the door.

She knelt in the castle, bound by the spell he had to cast in order to keep her still. "Tell me," he ordered.

"Tell me why you felt the tremendous need to disobey!" He circled her, his black Death Eater robe swishing with the severity of his turns. "Why was it so easy for you to decide to forfeit your life FOR A TRAITOR?" His voice calmed and his frown turned into a sneer. "Do you think he loves you? Or did you merely think that I wouldn't find out?"

She only shook her head, determined not to cry. He muttered a spell, and her knees received a terrifying amount of pain. "Did you like that, daughter of mine?" She only stared behind him. The only light in the room came from the fire, and the flames cast shadows about the room, making it seem to crawl.

She lifted her head and spoke. "You know that he wouldn't have died anyway. He was too greatly protected- "she was cut off with the contact of her father's backhand against her face. Her head snapped back, blood spraying behind her from her broken nose and busted mouth. "Did I say you could speak? Or did you just now decide that you would answer my previous question? Let me explain something to you now, darling daughter," he paused to bring his heel down in the small of her back, forcing her body to slam down to the stone floor, and she howled in pain. "You belong to me, and YOU DO NOT DEFY ME!"

Suddenly her bindings were gone and she could move freely, if she could pick herself up off of the floor. "Now stand up, sweetheart, because we have a special visitor who is going to witness a great act of loyalty." Her eyes flew open, full of understanding and she opened her bloody mouth to protest when the visitor came into the light and held up a finger. "Silence!" She turned and looked at her father. His lips spread back into an evil grin and welcomed the guest.

Lorelai awoke with a shudder. One of her arms felt cramped, and the other one...She couldn't feel her other arm! She began to panic until she realized that her right arm was pinned beneath her body and the floor, asleep. She lifted her head, only to scream, "Ouch!" when she had to rip her face from the wooden floor; she'd been stuck from the tears when she cried herself to sleep. How long have I been sleeping here? she wondered.

She shivered as she sat up. It was then that she noticed someone else had been in the room. Well, other than that annoying brat, Millicent. She shivered again, following the cold draft back to its source, the open window. "Luminos," she whispered, favoring the Old Latin version of the spell. Instantly her room was lit, and she couldn't shake the feeling that someone had disrupted her room. Scared, she walked backwards until she ran into her bed, and fell back on it, using her hands to break her fall. "OUCH!" she screamed for the second time that night. It felt like a needle had gone through her left hand, and she yanked it up. A thorn had viciously stabbed her, still attached to the stem of a beautiful white rose. Wait a minute, a rose?" She stifled a third scream as she pulled the thorn out of her hand. She began to bleed, but barely noticed it in her search for the source of the rose. She found what she was looking for, and tears coiled as she read the note, ready to be released.

I may have forgotten to mention it when I was lecturing you earlier, but, if you like, you may either summon a house-elf for food, or make your way to the kitchen. The house-elves will serve you there as well. Please accept this rose as an apology for unnecessary severity, and I will see you in class tomorrow morning.

S. Snape.

Weird. Lorelai looked for the clock in her room, because if her assumptions were correct, it was already tomorrow morning. She changed out of her dirty clothes and into a cute pajama set. She sighed, and decided to go for the kitchen with a good book. She wasn't going to sleep again tonight. She was too afraid to.

On the other side of Slytherin, Draco rolled listlessly in and out of useless dozing. He had thrown off his black sheets many times, only to draw them back to his body when he became cold. It had been a while since he'd had these hot and cold flashes. Thank God I sent Pansy out right away, he thought. He couldn't have handled her incessant questions right now. He'd fallen asleep with the lights on, and he now looked at the clock; 11:52pm. Could it possibly be that early, still? He groaned and stretched, deciding that he was done with trying to sleep, and swung his black silk pajama bottom-covered legs over the side of the bed, and grabbed his robe as he left the room.

Nearing the kitchen, he heard two very loud female voices whose high-pitched giggling made him grimace. He contemplated turning around, but went against it.

The new Mudblood sat at one of the eight round tables in the kitchen laughing at something Hermione Granger just said. "You should have seen the look on his face when Harry practically vomited the snitch out of his mouth! He couldn't bloody believe it!" That set off another round of laughter. "Oh, look here!" Lorelai pointed at an article in the Muggle magazine that Hermione had brought with her, unable to sleep as well. "' I Sleep With Your Boyfriend?'" Where do they come up with this stuff? I'd be all, No you didn't, bitch!" Hermione started to laugh but grew very quiet, very fast.

"I'm certain you would, Mudblood, if you could find someone who could stand your repulsiveness long enough to date you!" Draco drawled. "You are a disgrace to the name of Slytherin. Socializing with a Gryffindor!" She turned around sharply to face him, and his appearance nearly knocked her off of her chair. With his hair disheveled, tousled so it hung in his eyes, he looked almost vulnerable. His green robe was cinched at the waist, but not so tight that she couldn't see the hardness of his chest due to years of Quidditch. He wore black pajama pants, and Lorelai would almost bet her life that they were silk.

"Oh, my goodness. Hermione, do you know where Colin is? Because I do believe this is the only time anyone will ever see Draco Malfoy pour his own coffee!" He turned and raised his eyebrows, bored.

"Yes, Granger, please go get Potty's lover, because with you gone, I might be able to keep my appetite!" Hermione's chin began to tremble, and she started to get up. Lorelai pulled her back down. "No way, Hermione. Don't let this ignorant idiot force you out of somewhere you have every right to be." She glared at Draco, and turned her back to him.

"Wow, I am shocked, Miss Green, that you have a vocabulary consisting of words longer than four or five letters," he retorted.

"Don't give me a lesson in morality, Draco. I'm not the one who goes pushing people around just to feel like I have a hold on my life." She spoke without even looking at him, and once again she had him speechless, but only for a moment.

"You know nothing," he threw at her. He waited for a response. There was none. Not even a change in posture. The bitch was ignoring him! No matter; he'd study her instead, look for a weakness. Something, anything to use to make her cry. She just laughed and shook her head. "Look, Hermione! 'How To Analyze A Man By What He Wears To Bed.'" Hermione shrieked with excitement. The two put their heads together, whispering about things that were no doubt foolish and lacking importance.

Draco grabbed a newspaper and opted for the table diagonal from them. The kitchen was chilly, but he barely noticed his shivering. He would not allow himself to be cold. Not when the mudbloods were near the fire. He simply couldn't fathom it. The Granger girl, normally reserved, was animated and excited. And if Green had this effect on someone he assumed to be frigid and one-dimensional, he knew he was in for a sickening year.

He tried to read the paper, but concentrating was damn near impossible. The table he chose offered him a good view of first mudblood in Slytherin. She had thrown her hair up on top of her head in a haphazard, serf-like ponytail. He could tell she'd been crying; her eye makeup was smeared. He smirked. So the new girl was homesick, eh? She should have cleaned her face. He sniffed and perused her unsophisticated Muggle clothing. Her pajamas were girly; a light pink spaghetti strap top with a dark pink strawberry on it coupled with light pink bottoms dotted with tiny strawberries. On her feet sat pink fuzzy slippers. Draco shifted uncomfortably. She was attractive... in a messy, servant way. Not super- slender, but curvy. Only a slight muscle tone in her arms. One of those thin straps was falling off of one pale, smooth shoulder and she lifted her cup of coffee to her mouth. He unconsciously licked his lips and his eyes narrowed with constraint. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and he tried a new approach.

"I never figured you for the slutty type," he began, "you're practically undressed. Absolutely classless," he finished. The insult was weak, and he knew it. It seemed she would ignore him again, until she locked her eyes with his and smiled.

"Get over yourself, Draco. It's too late for me to refute petty affronts. If you were smart, you'd come over here and sit with us like you know you want to." He balked. The very idea made him nauseated. "Otherwise, sulk over there, but shut up, for heaven's sake! Your childish insecurities are rapidly pissing me off. You sit over there, pretending like you don't care what anyone thinks, yet you're killing yourself over what we may be talking about."

He opened his mouth to say that he would rather die than sit with Mud-Bloods, but thought better of it and with a sigh, he conceded. He sat, and Lorelai nudged Hermione, who asked devilishly, "Now, Malfoy, would you like to know what your choice of bed wear says about you?" The girls laughed, and he gave an audible groan. He rolled his eyes.

"I changed my mind. You are ridiculous. You both understand that I'll deny this little rendezvous to my death and accredit it to temporary insanity." It wasn't a question. He stood, and without a second glance, stalked out of the kitchen.

Lorelai just looked at his retreating figure and said to herself, "There's hope for you yet."