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

Monday Morning

Ryua opened her eyes the next morning and sighed happily to see the familiar green bedcurtains and quilts. She didn't have to worry about her father, or finding something to do out of the way today. She actually had something to do that she was looking forward to. Except that she'd have to explain to Professor Snape why she hadn't finished his essay.

Now, how am I going to do that? Ryua thought as she pulled on her school robes. I don't really want to tell him... although he probably would understand. But, I just don't want to tell anyone...Oh, dear Salazar, what am I going to say?

Well, I could start off asking him about those creatures. He'd know, if anyone would. I wonder where Hagrid went, he'd be the type to know too. She got up to breakfast early, and found herself wandering past the Gryffindor entrance. Ryua paused as she heard the Trio talking. "Yes, Lavender thinks so too," Hermionie said coming down the stairs, followed by Ron and a very peeved looking Harry.

"Thinks what?" Ryua said falling into step beside them.

"That I'm a liar and slightly insane." Harry said with a sigh.

"About what?"

The three of them looked at her with incredulous expressions. "About You-Know-Who coming back."

"Oh, right! Sorry, it's very much a reality at my place. I mean, my father's been strutting around like, well, like the Dark Lord's come back and he's the right hand of the biggest power in the world again. Well, Harry, if it's any consolation, no one in Slytherin thinks you're a liar!"

"Thanks," he said dryly. There was a slight smile on his face, however, and Ryua knew he was feeling very tired of being ignored and persecuted.

"So, what's the news about classes?"

Ron let out a rather disgusted noise. "It's the worst Monday in the history of days. History of Magic, Double Potions, Divination..."

"And to top it all off, Double DADA with that Umbrage female." Harry finished, sounding utterly depressed.

"Ouch. You hate her too?"

"Yes... what do you mean, too?"

Ryua turned a jump into a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, she just... rubs me the wrong way. Although, I've got Double Charms instead... I'd trade you."

"Sounds good..."

Hermionie stomped on Harry's half-hearted response, saying, "Harry, you can't go trading classes."

"Oh, Hermioinie, you are just such a stickler for rules now you've got that shiny red badge." Ryua grinned to take away the sting and skipped off to her own table.

Slytherin had Herbology first, which wasn't bad. It wasn't her favourite class, but Ryua generally didn't have any troubles. The Flameblossom pods, normally quick to burn anything within range, quietened down incredibly quickly when she doused an escapee with a quick jet of water.

And her good mood continued through the next class, Potions. Ryua was plunked with Crabbe again, so she couldn't talk to the Trio, but she cheerfully directed her partner in chopping and grinding things (one of his best talents) as she handled the much more intricate job of mixing. I do wish he'd be less nasty to Harry, though.

Snape had just evaporated Harry's cauldron. Pity, it could have been a lot worse than that. Hellebore isn't the most important ingredient...Goyle's potion exploded two desks down, drenching him and Millicent in flaming liquid. Between Ryua, Draco, and Snape, everyone managed to avoid much in the way of burns, although neither of them had anything to hand in afterwards. Ryua jotted down the essay memo in her book and held back at the end of class. "Sir?"

"Ryua. It's good to see you again."

She grinned. "You too."

"...This isn't just an exchange of pleasantries, is it?"

"Not exactly." Ryua sat down on a desk, facing him. "I actually have two things..."

"Oh?"

"Sir, what is pulling those carriages?"

Snape's eyes narrowed in confusion, then opened fully again. "Of course. I apologize, I had just assumed you... They are called Thestrals."

"And why can't anyone else see them?"

"That's not precisely true. I have been able to see them for years, along with most of the teachers. And, there are a handful of students... Potter, for instance."

"You haven't answered my question. And why do they like me? They don't even look at anyone else."

Snape got that strange look on his face, the one that seemed to be full of sorrow, of guilt. "Well, the only ones who can see them are those who have witnessed a death, a death of one of their own kind."

"Oh. Well, that would make sense, then. So, why do they watch me?"

"Frankly, I'm not entirely sure." He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. "In the past, it has been believed that seeing a Thestral is an omen of death. Now, we know it is the other way around, of course."

"Do they watch anyone else?"

"People covered in blood."

"Lovely."

"I'm serious. They eat fresh blood and raw meat." Snape paused, as a thought came into his head. "Actually, it might have something to do with that. They have watched me since... for years."

"Sir, you're editing your sentences again. Just tell me."

"Since I became a Death Eater. I think they are attracted to those who have spilled blood, someone else's lifeblood."

"Well isn't that cheery." Ryua sighed. She'd been having such a good day.

"What's the second thing?"

"Second... oh, right. I... haven't finished that essay yet. Could I have an extra day or two?"

"Of course, Ryua." She was just about to leave, when he said, "Two days, to write an essay you couldn't write over two months?"

"I... um..."

"What did he do to you now?"

"Nothing! I mean, nothing that actually interfered with my writing. I just broke my hand, that's all."

"You broke your hand."

"Yes."

"You have house elves, correct?"

"Yes."

"And the elves couldn't heal it?"

"... well, it took a few weeks to get back to full..."

"A few weeks?" Snape's expression was livid as he glowered from behind his desk. "Ryua, natural breaks don't take a few weeks of elf-medicine to heal. Give me your hands."

"Sir, he honestly didn't break it..."

"Now!" he snapped. Ryua grudgingly held out her hands. His fingers, cool and dry, probed the bones, found the bone scar, pressed them together, and noted the difference in length. Ryua didn't even twitch, though the pressure right on the lump ached. "He manipulated the bones, didn't he?"

"I suppose you could call it that. There wasn't exactly much I'd call bones right then..."

"He's extremely lucky you weren't crippled. That elf of yours deserves a spot in St. Mungoes, for the work it did. You don't have other family you could live with, do you?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Ryua..."

"I said, I can take care of myself. It's nothing I can't handle. I'm fine. Okay?"

"As you wish." He released her hands, watching her stride out of his classroom, jarring stride betraying her worry. Lucius had better watch his back. If the war doesn't kill him, Ryua will, and if she doesn't, I will.