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

School At Last

September 1st dawned bright and clear, to find Ryua already packed, wearing her school robes, and eating breakfast in the kitchen while awaiting her family. She was using her hand fully now, although she had a strange, bumpy patch of bone in her palm where the elves couldn't quite fix it all the way, and her littlest finger was a couple millimeters short. Ryua didn't care much, though, because she was actually using her spoon with her right hand again.

And just as she finished the last of her cereal and handed the bowl to an elf, she heard Lucius' familiar voice bossing around the numerous elves serving him. Right on time, she thought, as she straightened her hair and robes and went out to meet the family.

Draco looked as anxious to be out of the house as she was, and Narcissa was looking as, well, uninterested as ever. She'd been getting slightly different lately. Ryua was tempted to put it down to the return of the Dark Lord, but it just wasn't quite right. If that were the trouble, Narcissa should be more jumpy, or subservient, or wincing from curses, or something. Instead, she seemed... unconcerned... or secure... or maybe resigned, it was hard to tell which. Well, it wasn't Ryua's problem right now anyway. She was leaving. But first...

She held back at the floo fireplace, letting Draco and her mother go first. Then, she stepped in front of Lucius and held out her hand. He looked down at her, as if not comprehending basic body language. "What is it?" he asked, in a cool, unconcerned voice.

"My wand." Ryua replied, just as coolly, her hand still outstretched. "I'm sure you can realize I'll need it at school."

"Not until we get to the train."

Ryua sighed and put her hands on her hips. "This is ridiculous. You can't honestly think I'm going to attack you when I'm this close to being away from you for the next four months? You're scared?"

"I most certainly am not."

"Then it's a power thing. You think that holding my wand like I'm a two year old incapable of holding her own toys will give you power over me. Honestly, Lucius," she said, shifting to her other foot and shaking her hair over her shoulder, "I think I'm a little too old for that. People will wonder at the station, if you hand me my wand through the window, don't you think?"

"That doesn't matter. We're going."

She folded her arms and settled back on her heels. "Not till you give me my wand. If it makes you feel better, I'll give you my word I won't curse you."

"The word of a murderer?"

I think that was supposed to sting. "Well, I'm sure you know exactly how much a murderer's word is worth, Lucius. Now, my wand, before someone comes to tell us the train's leaving?"

For a moment, she thought he would refuse, standing there with his eye twitching as he obviously restrained himself from inflicting severe pain on the fifteen-year old girl standing impudently before him. His hand flexed, then reached into his robes. Ryua kept a firm control on her body, kept her eyes fixed on his face.

And the wand he pulled out was maple, not cedar. She casually reached out and plucked her wand from his hand, slowly turned her back, and walked into the flooplace. Ryua kept her face neutral all through the platform, past all the students, right up until she, Millicent, Crabbe, and Goyle sat down in their usual compartment. Then, her expression of triumph blossomed on her face, where no one was there to ask about it. She'd faced him down, and won. For the first time she could ever remember, Ryua hadn't come off worse from a confrontation with Lucius.

And she liked it.

A lot.

Her feeling of elation was wonderful, but she was getting bored half an hour into the ride with only the wonder lumps for company. Since Draco and Pansy were off being prefects, Ryua was really left bereft of conversation partners. She'd really rather be with them most of the time, actually. Crabbe and Goyle were fiercely loyal, although she wasn't exactly sure what she'd done to deserve it. And Millicent... she was quiet, solid, and never betraying or politicking. Yes, they were good people to have on your side, but right now, Ryua wanted to talk.

So, she walked down the train, looking in all the different compartments for the Trio. Then she remembered that Hermionie, and either Harry or Ron were prefects by now and would be off in their special compartment. She was still pondering over which one it would be when she walked into the next compartment.

Some inner warning clicked, and she threw up a shield charm before even registering who was inside the room. A split second later, an incredible amount of nasty smelling goo splattered off her invisible wall. Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she dropped the now opaque spell to find Harry, Neville Longbottom, and some Ravenclaw girl she vaguely recognized surrounded by the gunk. "Er, bad time, Harry?"

Harry jumped, then turned around, scraping slime off his glasses as he moved. "Er... not really... depending how much you like... what's it called, Neville?"

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Here, let me clean some of this up... scurgify!" The bright red boy pointed his wand at the worst of the mess. To Ryua's amazement and envy, all the slime sucked towards the site of the charm and promptly disappeared.

"Nice charm, Neville," she said as she sat down on a newly cleaned seat. He mumbled something unintelligible and went back to admiring his plant. "So, I see you're not a prefect Harry, what did you do wrong?"

"I... I've been trying to figure that out, to tell you the truth. We reckon its cause I get in so much trouble. What about you? You're a model student, and it's not exactly like you've got competition."

"I got in a spot of trouble over the summer. Nothing serious in the long term, but enough that the Ministry evidently thought me unfit to carry any sort of authority. You know what I got instead, though," Ryua asked, grinning.

"No... what?"

"Team captaincy. Basically, you're dead this year, Potter."

Harry grimaced, although good-naturedly. "Yeah, I bet you're better than Flint."

"But of course."

"Not so ruthless, though, right?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say I'm not ruthless..." Ryua said, examining her nails. "But I don't think you'll all get quite so badly beat up this year, either. Well, illegally anyway."

For some reason, Harry hadn't heard about her little episode over the summer. Of course, Lucius had paid the Prophet well to keep it quiet, but still, he had seen her in the Ministry. Not that she was going to complain if he didn't want to know. They'd all find out eventually. In the meantime, Ryua leaned over the girl's shoulder, who had introduced herself as "Loony" in a singsong, dreamy voice, and started trying to see if she could really puzzle some meaning out of the kumquat curse in her magazine.

Author's Note: To Periazhad: The fifth book is a period of change. She'll be going over to one side or the other. In fact, I'm kind of torn which, so I'm thinking of an AU story too.