Whee! Thanks so much to all who've updated *feels important* I won't be able 2 update fo r awhile because I'm going back to the dorms/evil school computers. I'm sorry, but I'll be back next weekend!

Luv&shnuggles, kitty.

(I no own, you no sue, si?)

~*~

Professor Snape generally ignores me once we're back in class, which is a good thing, since I don't have a clue what we're supposed to be doing. Even HE would have to take some points off Slytherin if he noticed me just standing there in front of my cauldron. But that's what I'm doing: standing, and sometimes pushing ingredients around on my cutting board, and trying desperately not to look at the pile of books on the table in front of me. I've put the letter underneath everything, but I can still see it's edge, poking out from under my Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. It's driving me mad. Who sent it? Is something wrong? I knew immediately that it couldn't be from Father himself; they don't allow prisoners to communicate directly, as it could be some kind of a coded message. Father explained it to me years ago, when we were talking about Aunt Bellatrix.

Still, if anyone can fool the system, it's Father. The thought of having a letter from him puts a Gobstone-sized knot in my stomach that's half excitement and half fear. The fact is, I'm afraid to read that letter. And I'm afraid not to.

I'm watching Professor Snape without actually seeing him. Then I realize he's watching me back. I put my head down and pretend to chop some boiled rabbit liver and, just for a second, I wonder about the Professor instead. Since the end of last year, he's been harder on me. Not any stricter, really, but a lot more distant. He hasn't even used my first name since May - it's been Mister Malfoy this, Mister Malfoy that. I haven't really paid enough attention to care, until now. And it bothers me. Of course, I know that he's on Dumbledore's side, in the end. I just have a hard time imagining it: Professor Snape siding with the idiots and Mudbloods. With POTTER. He used to be a Death Eater, for heaven's sake. It's almost inconceivable. Father once said that it was a lesson: Dumbledore won Professor Snape over to his side, which means he must be amazingly powerful, or at least persuasive. He could be doing it through mind-control, of course, but I've heard the fool doesn't believe in it. It would compromise his standards. So, Father's point was, watch out for Dumbledore. He may be a Muggle loving old buzzard, but he still has power. In a way.

I don't get a look at the letter until lunch, and by then I'm about to pop like a slug under an engorgement charm. The second we're dismissed, I shove my way out of McGonagal's class and start battling through the sea of students. I try to keep to the side, so I can see into the classrooms - I need to find an empty one. There's no WAY I'm opening it in the Great Hall, where everyone can have a good look at Slimy Mister Malfoy's latest tragedy. Filthy gits.

There - across the corridor, the Charms classroom is deserted. I have to shove a few people with my bag as I fight my way across. I'm almost there, when someone shoves me right back. I lose my footing and go sprawling to the floor. I just manage to avoid getting stepped on, and scoot over to the side. When I'm out of danger, I look down the corridor to see if I can tell who it was.... Of course.

Ginny-the-youngest-Weasel has turned around to look at me. It had to have been her - she ignores me unless we're actively trying to kill each other. The bint's probably trying to see how badly I'm injured, so she can gloat about it later. But I can't read the expression on her face... For one bizarre moment, it looks like she's going to come over and HELP me. Then someone calls her name from farther down the corridor and off she trots without a backward glance. Oh, it was definitely her. But I'll threaten her later. There're more important things to do, now. The corridors are almost deserted by now, so I slip into the classroom without any problems. Then I lock the door from the inside, and sit down at a desk.

My hands are actually shaking as I pull the envelope out of my bag. It feels strangely heavy, even though there's only one sheet of parchment inside. As I unfold it, the first thing I see is Azkaban's crest: an eye with and empty hourglass for a pupil. Comforting way to start a letter, all right. I've heard that everything is done differently, now that the Dementors are gone. Big conversationalists, these new guards. For a second I feel a bit of the old smirk creeping back onto my face. Then I look at the words.

~Mr. Malfoy,

It is my duty to inform you of an unfortunate thing. Prisoner M612, one Lucius Malfoy, has taken extremely ill. The prisoner was listed as being in Critical Condition on the night of October 31. On the night of November the 3rd, he was pronounced Terminal by resident physician Geoffrey Moon.

The prisoner has listed you as his next of kin. A deathbed visit has been arranged for Saturday, November 6th, at 9am. Please inform us if you wish to change the date or time of this visit, though it may be unwise to postpone.

Many Condolences,

Manfred Jibbers,

Events Coordinator, Azkaban Prison.~

I stop reading the letter. Then I read it again. And a third time, just to be sure. I can hear myself laughing. Think they're being funny, these new pricks. And they call themselves professionals. I should take it up with the Ministry, their trying to scare me like this. Hell, I'll bet it's not even them. Potter and his goons just got their hands on an Azkaban seal, I bet. How DARE they? This is low, even for filthy half bred ooze like Potter. Thought he'd get to see me in a panic, did he? Oh, he'll get that, all right. I'll panic all over him. I'll KILL him! Then I'm on my feet and away. Blast Flitwick's lock to a thousand pieces and kick open the door. I run down the corridors full tilt, and curse a few portraits for good measure. He's DEAD, he is, I'll Avada Kedavra his arse so hard he'll be gone before he hits the floor, to do something like THIS, this horrible, to make me think... and he can't be, he just CAN'T, there's just no way, no, not like this....

It's not until I look up and realize I'm back in the Common Room, and not on my way to the Great Hall to kill Potter, that I finally admit it. My last clear thought is something about being glad that everyone else is in class. It would present the wrong kind of image, seeing me cry. Because I am crying. Because it's all over. My Father is dying, and I'm going to Azkaban.

Then nothing else is clear for a long time.