You poor, sweet, innocent thing, dry your eyes and testify. You know you live to break me; don't deny, sweet sacrifice. — Sweet Sacrifice, Evanescence

October 29, 1977

The longer Layla was at Hogwarts, the more routine her life became, until she'd almost regained a sense of normalcy. Dumbledore hadn't spoken to her again, which surprised her given her history, but she supposed it must be because Dumbledore realized as well as she did that she was useless in the fight against Voldemort. The Marauders had been giving her space as well, but as time went on, Layla stopped avoiding the boys, and Remus had started studying with her regularly in the library for their Defense Against the Dark Arts, and unsurprisingly to Layla, her skills in the subject considerably improved with Remus's help. Sirius and Layla refused to avoid each other, but they also preferred to get away from each other as quickly as politely possible. James was kind, naturally, but it was hard for Layla to forget what Sirius had said about him having a slight crush on her, so she did what she could to point him in Lily Evans' direction, which seemed to be effective enough.

Her only roommate, Dorcas Meadowes, had turned out to be a very sweet girl and a good friend. They spent many nights together studying History of Magic, Arithmancy, and Potions, bonding over shared sweets and romantic problems (apparently, Dorcas had been pining for ages over Frank Longbottom, only for him to marry a Hufflepuff girl named Alice Brown that past summer after the two had graduated Hogwarts). Regulus Black had surprised her by turning out to be a loyal friend as well; he insisted on joining her at the Ravenclaw table for almost every meal, even when Dorcas sat with her. He also tempered Rabastan LeStrange's considerably more outgoing attempts to coax Layla into some form of relationship, which never failed to shake Layla to her core, and he held back Severus Snape, who never stopped glaring at her suspiciously since he'd seen her cast the spell he had only recently invented.

Lucius Malfoy wrote to Layla nearly every day with seemingly intimate knowledge of the details of her life — congratulating her on house points she earned, praising her grades, warning her to stay safe, and encouraging her to take Rabastan LeStrange up on his offer of friendship while also suggesting she be sure to keep the relationship platonic. At least once a week he sent her more care packages, each time the items were more tailored to her personality. While she couldn't be sure how Malfoy was learning her likes and dislikes so well, she suspected that Regulus was telling Malfoy all he knew about her. She chose to forgive him for it, knowing that he was just scared of the Death Eater like she was. Layla was careful, however, to be sure to watch what she said around Regulus, particularly after their fight over Malfoy's status as a Death Eater, to make sure that nothing she wouldn't want Malfoy to know made its way to his ears.

This particular Saturday, Layla sat at breakfast with Regulus, halfway through a stack of blueberry pancakes when she announced, "The Ravenclaw Quidditch team is having try-outs this afternoon, you know." Regulus raised an eyebrow at her as he took a bite of his bacon and eggs, waiting in silence for her to continue, so she did. "Well, I want to try out."

Swallowing, Regulus asked, "What position do you play?"

Layla shrugged as she cut herself another bite of pancake with her fork. "Don't know. I've never actually played before, just watched."

Regulus laughed. "You're going to try out for a sport you've never even played before? Can you even fly?"

"I can fly," Layla said, a tiny bit hurt at his lack of faith in her. "I've even flown on hippogriffs and thestrals before."

The last bit caught Regulus's attention. "Thestrals?"

"Long story," Layla said quickly, brushing him off. "But I want to try playing Quidditch. I'm a fair flyer; I think I could do it."

"Well, maybe you can," Regulus said, easily distracted from his astonishment at her comment on thestrals. "But you won't stand a chance at those try-outs this afternoon if you haven't had a little practice first. Hurry up and finish your food; I'll take you out on my broom this morning and teach you what I can before the try-outs." Layla smiled as she started cutting up her pancakes vigorously in larger pieces, eating faster.

Out on the empty Quidditch pitch, Layla accepted the Nimbus 1985 that Regulus offered her. "Take my broom," he insisted.

"Well, what will you use?" Layla asked.

"LeStrange let me borrow his Cleansweep 4 when he heard you wanted to practice before Quidditch try-outs," Regulus answered, shaking the other broom in his hand. "Frankly, I'm not sure I trust him enough to let you use it though, so take mine. Mine's better, anyway." Layla nodded as Regulus continued, "So, what position do you think you might want to play?"

Layla shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe seeker?"

Regulus grinned as he looked her up and down. "Well, if you make the team, don't expect to win any games against Slytherin, even if you are about the right build for it. I'm their team seeker; no way you could ever beat me to the snitch."

Laughing, Layla shook her head. "Forget it, then," Layla said. "I'm not going head to head against you. You're absolutely right; you'd probably crush me every time. Ok, well what position could you see me playing then?"

Regulus opened the box he'd brought with him and picked up the Quaffle inside. Suddenly, he spun on her and threw the Quaffle at Layla's head. Layla squeaked but threw her hands up, catching the Quaffle, which hit her palms hard enough to leave her hands stinging. Regulus said, "Ok, now throw it back to me." Layla chucked the Quaffle at Regulus as hard as she could, annoyed at being startled by him. It slipped through his hands and smacked hard against his chest. He grunted at the impact. "Very good," he coughed, still bending over holding the Quaffle. "I think you'd make a ruddy good keeper, maybe even a chaser. We'll have to get you in the air to test you for sure."

That night, Layla sat in the Three Broomsticks with Regulus and Dorcas, sharing a piece of elderberry pie with her fellow Ravenclaw. She could see Sirius with his friends across the pub. Sirius was watching her intently, not even looking away when she caught him staring. Unsure what to make of that, she looked away from him, focusing on the bite of pie on her fork until she heard a voice from behind that turned her blood cold. "Layla, my dearest."

Dropping her fork with its uneaten bite onto the plate with a clatter, Layla spun around in her chair to find herself staring up in shock at Lucius Malfoy. "Malfoy," Layla said quietly, unable to find other, better words.

Malfoy took the empty seat next to her. "How did your Quidditch try-outs go this afternoon?"

Layla nearly choked on air at his question. She'd only told Regulus about the try-outs that morning, and she was fairly certain he hadn't left her side the whole day. She couldn't even begin to imagine how Malfoy had found out about the try-outs. When she remained in horrified silence for too long, Regulus cleared his throat and answered for her, "Layla's going to be the new Ravenclaw keeper."

"Well, congratulations, then," Malfoy said with a smile, casually tossing an arm around her shoulders and hugging her to his side. He loosened his grip, but his arm never left her shoulders. "I'm sure your parents would be proud of you."

Layla couldn't take anymore after Malfoy mentioned her parents. What right did a Death Eater like Lucius Malfoy have to mention her parents, who had been murdered by his Death Eater friends? She slipped out from under Malfoy's arm, mumbling, "Excuse me," more out of habit than intended politeness, then rushed to the women's restrooms as fast as she could. Every tiny anxious, neurotic feeling she'd been struggling to get past for the last couple months came flooding back, and she bent over the nearest toilet and hurled. Memories crowded her mind — of her parents on the hotel floor drenched in pools of their own blood, her father's head removed from his shoulders by some Snatcher's abuse, the look of horror permanently etched on her dead mother's blood-spattered face…

Layla jerked violently when she felt a hand on her back, but she continued to vomit anyway, unable to stop long enough to mount any sort of defense against the intruder. She gasped for air between puking as she heard Sirius's voice muttering in my ear, "Shh, shh. It's all right. You're going to be just fine, kitten. Shh, shh. I'm here. You're safe. You'll always be safe with me." When she could finally stop, she involuntarily continued to swallow so often and so fast that she couldn't breathe, except for occasional gulps of air when her body gave her the chance. Sirius held her hair back for her, his free hand never stopping its soothing caress on her back. When she finally sat back away from the toilet, tears clouded her eyes too much to be able to make out Sirius's face as anything other than a blurred swirl of skin tones and black hair even as he let her own black hair fall and wiped tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. She relaxed slightly under his touch, still struggling for breath, as he asked, "What happened? Why is Malfoy here?"

Layla shook her head just enough that Sirius could feel her face move in his hands, but it was barely visible. "I don't know," she panted. "He – he asked about Quidditch, and…"

"You're absolutely bloody terrified of him," Sirius said certainly. Layla nodded tiredly, exhausted after emptying her stomach. "Don't go back to him," Sirius insisted. "Come back out there with me. The boys and I will make sure you slip out of here without having to deal with Malfoy anymore."

Layla hesitated. "I don't know…"

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "The only power that man has over you is the power you give him, so don't give him any."

Groaning, Layla muttered, "I'm not so sure it works that way." Eyes finally clearing of tears enough that she could make out the worried expression on Sirius's face, Layla said, "I can survive a few minutes conversation with the man. Just — just stay, please? At your table with your friends, so you can watch… I can't just leave Dorcas and Regulus alone with that man."

Sighing, Sirius nodded. "All right. But at the first sign of trouble, I'm coming over there, and I'm marching you right back up to Ravenclaw tower, where you'll be safe."

Layla snorted. "And then we'll somehow detour into your bed again?" She laughed softly as Sirius scowled. "I'm just teasing; don't worry." She stood up, and Sirius followed. Layla left the room and returned to her table, where Malfoy was still waiting for her. She sat down next to him again, refusing to make eye contact with Regulus and Dorcas' concerned gazes. "Sorry," Layla mumbled. "I think I'm getting a touch of the flu." She chanced a glance up and saw Sirius sitting back down next to James across the room, glaring at Malfoy with pure hatred.

"How awful," Malfoy said, his voice low and soothing as he pushed Layla's hair back from her forehead. "At least it didn't set in until after the Quidditch try-outs, or you might not have made the team." Layla nodded as he cupped her face in his hand, running a thumb soothingly across her cheek, shivering in the same mix of disgust and relaxation he'd made her feel before the school year had started. Malfoy hummed low in his throat, then said, "Let's get you a butterbeer to soothe your stomach, then we'd better send you back up to the castle, hmm?" Layla nodded, and Malfoy caught a waitress and ordered the butterbeer. Regulus raised a questioning eyebrow at Layla, but she shook her head at him. Dorcas left with an excuse about needing to study, leaving the pub as quickly as she could. When the waitress brought her drink, Layla sipped at it slowly, her stomach still churning a little. Malfoy and Regulus discussed Regulus's plans for after Hogwarts and politics until Layla said, "I think I'm getting a fever. I'd better head up to the castle before Madame Pomfrey goes to bed."

Malfoy frowned, seeming slightly worried. "Yes, of course. I'm sure she can fix you right up. Regulus, would you please escort my dearest Layla to the castle? I want to be certain that she'll be safe, walking up there in the dark."

Clearing his throat, Regulus quickly jumped to his feet as he said, "Yes, of course."

Regulus rushed to the other side of the table and pulled Layla's chair out for her to stand, but Malfoy stopped her by asking, "Shall we meet again next Hogsmeade weekend? Explore the shops, have a quiet dinner together?" Layla opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out, so Malfoy said cheerfully, "Excellent. I'll see you then. I'll send you an owl with the details." He captured her hand and his and brought it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. "Good night, my dear," he said, smirking slightly.

Layla stood quickly, pulling her hand from Malfoy's and grabbing on as tightly as she could to Regulus's hand, dragging him along behind her as she rushed from the pub. As they walked up the High Street toward Hogwarts, Regulus demanded, "What the bloody hell happened back there? No way you've got the flu."

"Of course I don't have the ruddy flu," Layla snapped. "But that man makes me absolutely sick. Talking about my parents like that… He has absolutely no bloody right to speak about them…"

"What exactly happened to your parents?" Regulus asked.

Layla's stomach flipped again as the images of her murdered parents flashed through her mind's eye. After a moment, when she regained the reuse of her voice, she said flatly, "They were murdered by Death Eaters. We were hiding from them, refusing to cooperate with them, and they found us. They murdered my parents while I watched, and they…" Layla stopped, gagging on stomach acid as she tried not to vomit again. Regulus forced Layla to let go of his hand so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulder, supporting her weight as they walked slowly through the forest path. "Malfoy saved me from hell, I admit, but he's still a Death Eater and a vile man, and I can't bring myself to feel anything but hatred for him."

Regulus frowned as they walked. After a few minutes of silence, he said slowly, "What about me? What if… what if I have to become a Death Eater too?" Brows furrowing, Layla stared at Regulus's face as they walked, but he merely stared down at the ground as they moved. "Will you hate me if I become a Death Eater too?"

Layla hesitated. As much as she liked Regulus, she couldn't help the slight shiver down her spine at the mental image of Regulus with the Dark Mark on his arm. "I don't think you'd take the mark, Regulus," she said honestly. "You're not like them. You're not violent and cruel like they are."

A few more minutes of silence passed, then Regulus said, "I might. I don't… I don't know if I agree with them, but Mother and Bellatrix… I might."

Layla looked down sadly at the path under their feet. She hated the idea of Regulus joining the Death Eaters. "Do you really think you could do it, though? Could you do the things You-Know-Who will ask you to do?"

Even though she wasn't looking at him, she could feel Regulus grimace at the idea from his arm around her shoulder. Sighing, he said admitted, "I don't know, but I might not have a choice in the matter."

Layla still couldn't bear to imagine Regulus as a Death Eater. He was a good, sweet boy; a bit misguided perhaps, but he had a kind soul. "They'll crush you," Layla asserted confidently. "They'll chew you up and spit you out again. They'll ruin your life." Regulus started to argue, but she continued over his protests, "But even if you join them, I don't think I'd hate you. You're… you're not like Malfoy and them. You're good and honest and kind. You really would only join the Death Eaters because you feel you have no other choice. I won't hate you." She felt Regulus's sigh of relief, but he stayed silent for the rest of the trip to the castle. He walked her up to Ravenclaw tower, said a brief good night, then sent Layla inside, where she went straight to her warm, cozy bed and curled up with a book of Tennyson poems, her mum's favorite poet, until she finally managed to drift off to a poor night's sleep.

October 30, 1977

The next morning at breakfast, Layla was sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table when Sirius sat himself down at the table across from her. "How are you?" he asked worriedly.

Layla shrugged. "Remembering the night my parents died made me ill. I'm all right now," she said truthfully.

"And Malfoy?" Sirius pressed.

Sighing, Layla admitted, "I've been roped into seeing him again next Hogsmeade weekend. If I'm not mistaken, I believe it might be a date."

Sirius grimaced. "Well, obviously you can't go with him," he said decidedly.

"Well, I certainly don't want to go," Layla grumbled. "But I don't think I've got any choice."

"Here's a choice," Sirius said with a mischievous grin. "Go with me instead."

Layla froze, a piece of toast halfway to her mouth. "Are you joking?"

"Not at all."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because, you're you," Layla huffed. "And… Malfoy…"

"You didn't have a problem with me being me at the start of term. In fact, it seemed to be a bit of a turn-on for you," Sirius teased.

"Don't start that mess," Layla warned.

"Sorry," Sirius said, but he didn't seem the least bit sincere. "Just please, blow off Malfoy and go with me."

"I don't think I should," Layla said softly. "Not that I don't want to, but Malfoy… I don't know what Malfoy will do if…"

"Bah, don't worry about Malfoy," Sirius scoffed. "I can deal with Malfoy."

Layla hesitated. "Why does it feel to me like you only want to take me out because you know it'll piss off Malfoy and his Death Eater friends, like your parents?" Layla asked suspiciously.

Sirius shrugged. "That's not the only reason," he said. "But it is a nice little bonus, don't you think?"

Layla shook her head. "No, I don't," she said. "I'm not a tool for you to use to piss off your bloody mother, so just shove off, Sirius Black." Sirius began to protest, but she grabbed her bag and her half-eaten slice of toast and stormed off to the Slytherin table, ignoring the many looks of astonishment from the rest of the Great Hall as she wedged herself between Rabastan LeStrange and Regulus Black. Rabastan glanced back and forth between Layla and Sirius before he burst out laughing, and Regulus gave her a confused look. Layla answered his silent question. "Your brother is an absolute prat."

Regulus swallowed a bit of sausage and started to say something, but Rabastan spoke first. "Layla, I'm sure you know there's a Halloween party tomorrow night down at the Three Broomsticks?"

Layla paused with a bite of toast halfway to her mouth. "I've heard about it," she said slowly.

"Are you going?" Rabastan asked, a roguish grin on his face.

Layla gave Regulus a pleading look for help, but he only shrugged. "I hadn't been planning to," Layla huffed, turning back to Rabastan, more thoroughly annoyed than ever by the boys of this school.

His grin widened. "Well, perhaps you'd like to go with me?" He asked as he poured Layla a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Layla accepted the cup when Rabastan placed it in her hand, evaluating his offer. The boy next to her was a LeStrange, a Death Eater (or soon to be a Death Eater if not already), brother-in-law to Bellatrix LeStrange who had tortured her and scarred her for life… However, he was also handsome, charming, and, so far, chivalrous. As dangerous an enemy as he was, he'd also make an equally protective ally. Malfoy had been right about one thing: Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix could hardly guarantee her safety. The Order might be larger and stronger than it was in her own time, but so were Voldemort's forces. Knowing what she knew was coming, it seemed that perhaps — although she knew she could never take the Dark Mark herself, especially not with the "mark" Bellatrix had left on her — but all the same, perhaps the safest place for her to be just then really was standing next to a Death Eater. Rabastan certainly seemed a decent enough fellow, other than being a Death Eater, and she wasn't supposed to know anything about any of that. "All right," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Regulus choked on pumpkin juice in his surprise. He coughed violently, then gasped, "Really?"

Rabastan ignored Regulus's shock. "Fantastic," he said happily. "Meet me in the Entrance Hall tomorrow night at seven?" Layla nodded. "Excellent. I'll see you then." Rabastan nodded his head at Regulus, then left.

Regulus gave Layla a gentle smack on the shoulder. "What the bloody hell?" Regulus exclaimed. "I thought you couldn't stand his… sort. His status in the wizarding community," Regulus hissed, leaning heavily on implication to get across his meaning.

Layla took a bite of her toast as she said, "I've been thinking a lot about our conversations on that subject this morning, along with some things Malfoy has had to say on the subject in the past, and…" She sighed heavily, setting her toast down on Regulus's plate. "Well, honestly, after what happened to my parents, it feels horrible thinking about taking the side of the people who murdered them, but… But they aren't here anymore. It's just me, and… while I agree with the Order of the Phoenix, that You-Know-Who should be stopped, that's not exactly a safe position to take, is it?"

Regulus said slowly, "Well, no…"

"I've had to fight to be part of this world my whole life," Layla said bitterly. "I've had to fight for every little thing I've ever had, magic included, and I'm tired of fighting. Goodness knows I'll never join up with them, but if being a little kinder to Malfoy and his friends means I'm safe, that I don't have to struggle to survive day-to-day anymore, well… why not?"

Regulus chewed on the thought as he took another bite of sausage. He swallowed and said, "You're right about that. Just be careful of Rabastan. He's a decent enough fellow, but he's dangerous. Just be careful." Layla nodded before stealing a piece of sausage from Regulus's plate and popping it in her mouth too quickly for Regulus to smack her hands away, smirking at him triumphantly as she ate it.

October 31, 1977

Layla tugged at the tight empire waist of the deep green dress she wore, one of the many dresses straight out of the 1950s that Malfoy had insisted on buying for her before school started, her black robes flowing around her as she paced in front of the stairs in the Entrance Hall. It was almost 7:30, and the black patent leather pumps were already starting to make her feet hurt. She wanted to complain about Malfoy's taste in clothes for women, but if she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she absolutely loved the dresses he'd picked out for her — or had Dobby pick out for her, she wasn't really sure. She'd always had a thing for the clothes of the 50s and 60s, and the music of the 70s and 80s. Her style was completely random and depending on the day, but Malfoy taking over her wardrobe helped her pretend to be much more put together than she typically felt. But for now, Layla was very much starting to regret her decision to go out with Rabastan LeStrange when he finally appeared behind her as she turned to begin pacing the other direction, giving her a little fright. Her hands flew to her ruby red lips in surprise, making Rabastan laugh, his eyes glinting mischievously. "You're easy to startle," he teased.

Layla huffed good-naturedly and said, "Well, it's rather easy to be easily startled when you're becoming more certain by the minute that you're being stood up."

Rabastan sobered a bit at that. "I'm sorry about that, dearie. I'm afraid I fell victim to yet another Marauder prank on my way here, and only just got myself back to right."

"What sort of prank?" Layla asked, but Rabastan dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

"The kind that retribution is already being paid for. But don't worry your pretty head about that, now, dearie," Rabastan said nonchalantly, taking her elbow and leading her toward the front doors. "Let's just head to the party."

The pair started on their way to the party in awkward silence, though Rabastan didn't seem to mind the quiet at first. Then as the walk went on, Rabastan became more and more loquacious about blood purity, the supposed mess the Ministry of Magic has become in recent years, and his own desires to put his pureblood stamp on the world. Layla couldn't help but roll her eyes at him, but she made certain he never saw it. He held her hand for the majority of the trip, which Layla wasn't too thrilled with but allowed anyway. When they finally entered the Three Broomsticks, a giggly blonde girl rushed Rabastan and threw her arms around him in greeting. Rabastan grinned as he pushed the girl back, and suddenly Layla realized that she must be his sister-in-law Narcissa Malfoy — no, Narcissa Black. Layla had to remind herself that Lucius Malfoy had not married Narcissa Black after all. "And who is your little friend, Rabastan?" Narcissa asked, smiling at Layla.

"Narcissa, this is Layla Danes," Rabastan introduced. "Layla, this is Narcissa Black."

Narcissa went from warm and friendly to cold and hostile in under a second. "Oh, I see," Narcissa sneered. "You're Lucius Malfoy's new little halfblood friend." She spat the last word as if it were some sort of curse. "I'm surprised he'd ever let you out of his sight, much less allow you to wander on the arm of another man."

Layla hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Rabastan stepped in. "Now, now, Narcissa," Rabastan cooed. "I'm sure Layla had nothing to do with any decisions Lucius made about your relationship."

Narcissa began to protest, but a dark-haired woman Layla instantly recognized ran up beside her and hung on her arm. She was younger and prettier now than Layla remembered, but that didn't do anything to ease Layla's terror at the sight of her. "Oh, come on, Cissy, dear, don't be a bore," Bellatrix giggled, clearly having already been in the liquor. "I'm sure my dear brother Rabastan would just love to buy you a drink, now, wouldn't you, Rabastan?"

Rabastan seemed to take a deep breath, then said, his patience slightly strained, "Of course, Bella. Come, Narcissa." Narcissa took his arm, throwing a smug little smirk at Layla, before they walked away together to the bar, leaving Layla totally alone with the person she was most afraid of in the entire world — Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Who are you?" Bellatrix demanded, some of her friendliness from moments before lost.

"Layla Danes," Layla breathed, unable to move, barely able to think at all. "Lucius Malfoy's friend…"

"Oh yes," Bellatrix laughed. "Dear Lucy's new little halfblood whore. I remember you now; you ruined my sister's engagement to Malfoy."

Layla shook her head as her fear began to spin out of control, her hands shaking with barely restrained panic. "No, no, I had nothing to do with that," Layla denied.

"Really? Is that so?" Bellatrix scoffed. "There was no sign of an end to their relationship until you suddenly turned up from wherever the hell you came from, and then suddenly, poof! There goes my sister's marriage contract." Layla flinched as Bellatrix approached her, wand in hand. Bellatrix delicately traced Layla's jawline with the tip of her wand. "I wonder how upset Lucius would be if his pretty little girlfriend's face suddenly wasn't quite so pretty anymore," Bellatrix whispered, a subtle, mad grin curling her lips.

Layla kept a tight grip on her own wand, pulling it from her pocket, blue eyes manic with fear as they darted about the room, searching for safety. Bellatrix's dark, wild curls suddenly encroached on Layla's vision, and her left arm burned deep to the bone, as though Bellatrix's dagger had buried itself in her flesh once again, and she snapped. This wasn't like before, after all. Layla was defenseless when Bellatrix had tortured her for Harry Potter's whereabouts. Now, she had a wand, and enough fear and hatred of the woman before her to drive her to use it. With a subtle jerk of her wand by her side, Layla whispered back, "Crucio." Bellatrix gasped, removing her wand from Layla's face and clutching at her chest, taking deep ragged breaths for air and whimpering, her face smirk falling into a horrified pout as she realized what was happening to her — her own favorite spell was being turned against her. She stumbled back a few steps, then Layla released the spell, following her until they were in each other's faces again. "Stay the bloody hell away from me, LeStrange. I mean it. Stay away from me." Bellatrix grinned suddenly, then grabbed at Layla's left arm. Layla fought back, struggling as Bellatrix tried to push up the sleeve of her robes. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Layla demanded.

Bellatrix giggled as she asked excitedly, "You've taken the Dark Mark, haven't you? Casting that spell so easily and so publicly, surely you must be one of us."

Layla managed to free her arm from the older woman's grasp before she could see the scars that her future self had left on Layla's arm. "Absolutely bloody not," Layla snapped. "You and your lot absolutely repulse me."

"You will join us," Bellatrix purred, dark eyes wild with excitement. "I can see it in your pretty little blue eyes. You'll be one of us one day. The Dark Lord will certainly want a powerful, beautiful, spirited pet like you for his own."

Layla started to snap back at Bellatrix, but Rabastan reappeared by her side with some silly pink cocktail offered to her. "Look at you two, becoming such good friends," Rabastan said with a smile. Layla shuddered at the idea of being friends with Bellatrix LeStrange.

Bellatrix hummed, "Of course, dear brother. I just adore your new little girlfriend here. Much better than your usual choices in women. This one's got spunk, she does." Bellatrix winked at her, and Layla tasted bile, realizing that rather than frightening her into steering clear of her, she'd unintentionally convinced the psychotic witch to actually like her.

Rabastan's grin broadened. "Wonderful to hear," he said cheerfully as Layla accepted the mystery drink from him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Rabastan continued, "Perhaps one day soon you'll be able to call each other sister." Revulsion filled Layla at that, and she sipped at the drink in her glass in an attempt to keep herself from throwing up. The alcohol in her cup burned her throat horribly, and she gagged at it. Lapsing into a coughing fit, Layla felt Rabastan patting her back and rubbing it in comforting circles. "You all right, dearie?" Rabastan teased as Layla began to breathe normally again. "Haven't you ever had alcohol before?"

Layla shook her head in reply. Bellatrix and Rabastan laughed as Narcissa rejoined them. "Oh, well don't worry, darling," Bellatrix cooed. "It gets better and easier with time, just like sex and murder, you know, all those fun little things they like to say are bad of us."

Layla took another sip of the sweet guava flavored drink, which had finally started to drown out the nastier flavor of the actual alcohol, to avoid saying anything in return to that disgusting remark. Rabastan leaned down and whispered in her ear, his attempt at seduction, "Not to mention, it mixes so well with the other two activities. Perhaps we could discover that together tonight."

Layla struggled to find her voice, her tongue suddenly thick and dry in her mouth. All the energy had started to fade from her body, and she leaned against Rabastan for support, struggling to stand in her stilettos. Unable to hold her head up, she let it fall onto his shoulder as the room started spinning in horribly bright colors. Narcissa's smirking face came into high focus as Narcissa asked, her voice sounding as if it were much farther away than her face was, "Is something wrong, sweetheart? You don't look like you feel well."

Layla tried to respond, but her vocal chords felt paralyzed. Rabastan's voice suddenly floated into her mind, far louder than Narcissa's, as though he were speaking right in her ear, "Come on, dearie. Looks like you're not handling your liquor very well. I'll take you back to my dorm; you can sleep it off there."

Unable to argue or even lift her head to shake it, Layla stumbled as Rabastan directed her toward the pub's door, but then they stopped. Layla's legs went out from under her, and she nearly fell, but Rabastan caught her under the arms and pulled her back to his side again — wait, when had she left his side in the first place? His hold on her felt different than it had before, tighter, rougher, meaner… Something was wrong; she didn't know what, but something was wrong. She should leave; it was time to cut and run, but... When had they ended up in the alley between the Three Broomsticks and — what was the next building over again? Everything was dark; she couldn't think. She could barely breathe. She was so cold… Something rough dug into her lower back, and she hissed at the pain. The pain sharpened her focus, and her eyes found Rabastan's as he stood in front of her, his chest pressed hard against hers, dark eyes full of terrifying, dangerous, sinful lust as she suddenly felt his hands under her skirt, gripping her bare hips roughly — when had her panties disappeared? Layla tried to scream, but her voice stopped in her throat, and no sound came out. Her heart pounded as her head fell back and hit something hard, making her see stars. Her small hands found Rabastan's chest and tried to push him away, but her arms were shaky and weak, and she doubted he could even feel her resistance. She wanted to fight back, wanted to run away, but her body wouldn't do anything she asked it to...

Layla blinked, and suddenly Rabastan was gone. Bright flashes of red and white light blinded her, and she wanted to scream, but her throat closed on her, muting her cries. Then Lucius Malfoy was in front of her instead, pulling her away from the alley wall, carefully picking her up in his arms. He whispered soothing things in her ear that she couldn't properly understand, and when she blinked again, he was laying her down on a bed in a brightly lit bedroom. Malfoy gently forced her head up, compelling her to drink something she couldn't even begin to identify. She gagged and coughed on the disgusting bitter liquid, her whole body suddenly spasming in protest, but Malfoy forced her to drink what felt like a copious amount of the drink before he allowed her to lie back down. After a couple of minutes, the feeling began to return to her body, and she became vividly aware of quite a few aches and pains all over her body that she knew hadn't been there before the party. Her clouded mind finally began to clear, and her eyes focused on the world around her, finally landing on Malfoy's worried face. Her tongue still felt too large and too dry, but she managed to push the words out anyway. "What happened?"

Malfoy seemed to breathe a small sigh of relief before he said, "One of the world's nastier so-called 'love potions.' Apparently, Narcissa and Rabastan slipped it into your drink." Layla closed her eyes tiredly for a minute, her hand reaching out, hanging off the bed, until Malfoy took it, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb reassuringly. Layla swallowed hard, feeling developing bruises on her hips, unwilling to ask the dreadful question that plagued her. Malfoy seemed to understand her silence, however, and answered quietly, "He didn't get that far. I stopped him before — before he could do that." Tears of relief stung Layla's eyes. "I won't lie, I knew Bellatrix and Rodolphus were quite awful, but I never suspected Narcissa and Rabastan would turn against you like that. Rabastan has always been a decent sort of fellow, particularly towards women. Narcissa must've really twisted him around her little finger if he's behaving like that."

Layla snorted. "He's a Death Eater," she derided. "Of course he's a disgusting, evil man."

"Hey," Malfoy said, temper flaring. "Enough of that. I'll admit, Rabastan's turned out to be a nasty little piece of shit, but remember, I'm a Death Eater, too. I could've just as easily saved you from him only to take advantage of you myself instead of giving you the antidote, but I didn't."

"You're right," Layla admitted quietly. "I'm sorry."

Malfoy took a deep breath, then let it out. "I'm sorry, too," he said, surprising Layla. Her eyelids felt heavy as he said, "Narcissa must've been the mastermind behind this little scheme. I decided not to marry Narcissa because… well, I was hoping to win you over and marry you instead. She was furious. She must've encouraged Rabastan to rape you like that because if you'd had sex with him, his parents would have forced you two to marry, whether you wanted to or not. I imagine Narcissa thought that with you out of the way, I'd marry her after all."

Layla hummed her agreement with Malfoy's hypothesis, sleepiness overwhelming her in the warm, comfortable room. "Is it that way with all purebloods?" she asked drowsily. Malfoy nodded. Layla giggled slightly. "Then he's far too late, anyway. I already slept with Sirius Black, so by your own rules, I'd have to marry him."

Malfoy shook his head. "That doesn't count," Malfoy sneered. "He's been disowned. He's a blood traitor. He most definitely would not count."

"And the Snatchers that raped me for over a week before I showed up in your house tortured and ruined?" Layla said bitterly, eyes closed tight against the painful memories even as the soreness currently residing in her muscles forced those memories to the front of her mind.

Malfoy's frown deepened at that. "They're nothing, to you or anyone else."

Layla sighed, her body relaxing some into the softness of the bed and the pillows. "What kind of stupid sex tradition is that anyway? Purebloods are so... puritanical."

Malfoy answered, "It's more about bloodlines than sex. If the only person your wife has ever had sex with is you, then there's never any question if the children are yours. Your heirs are proper purebloods, and there's no doubt about their legitimacy."

"You purebloods, pretending you're royalty or something, all obsessed with 'heirs' and shit," Layla teased. "Absolutely ridiculous."

A ghost of a smile crossed Malfoy's face at that. "Perhaps so," Malfoy admitted, sounding a bit amused. "But that's how it's been for centuries. I'm not sure it could change now."

"It could if you wanted it to," Layla insisted sleepily, pausing to yawn. "At least in your own house."

"Why would I do that when I could just marry you?" Malfoy teased back.

"You don't want to marry me," Layla said. "That would be really stupid."

"How so?" Malfoy asked.

"So many reasons..." Layla trailed off, exhausted. "I should — I should go," she mumbled, unable to open her eyes. "Back up to the castle. Ravenclaw tower…"

"Shush, now," Malfoy soothed, his hand stroking her black hair lulling her to sleep. "You're in no condition to go anywhere. I'll make sure your absences from your classes tomorrow are excused. You're safe here; go on to sleep."

Layla's grip on Malfoy's hand was weak, but she tugged on it anyway, and he let her pull him closer until he was sitting on the edge of the bed rather than in a chair next to it. She slurred, "It's so cold in here."

Malfoy hesitated. "I really shouldn't," he said slowly. "I'd rather keep your trust in the morning. But here." He waved his wand, and suddenly she was covered by blankets all enchanted with a warming charm, and she sighed contentedly, snuggling down happily. A moment later, she lost all awareness as sleep overcame her.

November 1, 1977

The next morning, Layla woke up in bed alone, the sun shining in on her makeup-smeared face. She squinted against the bright light, dizzy and nauseous, her head pounding furiously. Memories of the previous night rushed through her mind, leaving her head spinning even more. Nausea overwhelming her, she rushed to a closed door she guessed was the bathroom, throwing herself inside, surprised to find Malfoy inside taking a shower. Ignoring the man and his startled protests, Layla immediately bent over the toilet and retched violently, only able to manage stomach acid as she had nothing more on her stomach. She heard the water from the shower turn off, then the rustle of a towel being ripped from its rack, then a pair of large, damp hands were pulling her hair away from her face as she gasped for air, still kneeling next to the toilet. Layla's skin burned all over as though someone had just hit her with twenty warming charms, and her spine ached from the powerful tremors of cold running down her back. Her blood pounded violently against her skull as Malfoy said fretfully, "It's a side effect of that awful potion that LeStrange gave you. I'm so sorry."

Layla leaned back against the wall next to the toilet, really looking at Malfoy for the first time that day. He had wrapped his towel around his waist, concealing anything she ought not to see, but beads of water still ran down his chest, pulling the eyes downward. Layla swallowed, then said quietly, "Thank you, Malfoy. For last night. For saving me and taking care of me."

"Of course," Malfoy said. "I said I'd keep you safe and give you anything you wanted, and I meant it." Layla nodded sharply. "Why don't we go ahead and get you back to the castle? I've already sent an owl to Regulus Black this morning explaining what happened and instructing him to go absolutely everywhere with you. The boy is never to leave your side, except for classes, understand?" Layla nodded as he helped her to her feet. "Good. Now, back to the castle with you."

The minute Malfoy and Layla reached the gate to the grounds of Hogwarts, Regulus pulled the gate open. Layla raced over to him, surprising the younger Slytherin by throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. He let his arms fall around her and patted her back awkwardly. "Are you all right?" Regulus asked softly.

Layla sniffed, struggling not to start crying, "Yeah, I'm ok. Thanks to Malfoy."

"Take good care of her, Black," Malfoy ordered harshly. "I don't want anything like last night happening again, and if LeStrange tries to come anywhere near her again… kill him. Understand?" Layla felt Regulus nod, his chin pressing into her shoulder. "And take her straight to Pomfrey. She's still sick from the love potion, even after the antidote." Regulus nodded again as Malfoy said, more kindly, "Layla, write to me. I want to be certain you're safe and feeling better."

"Ok," Layla mumbled into Regulus's shoulder. She heard the sound of dead leaves underfoot as Malfoy walked away, and Regulus started running a hand up and down her back. When she was fairly certain Malfoy couldn't hear anymore, Layla said quietly, "I was so stupid."

"You weren't stupid," Regulus said firmly. "He was your date; you couldn't have possibly expected my cousin to have him in the palm of her hand like that. Hell, I wouldn't have even believed Cissy to be capable of something like that. I'm sure she took inspiration from something Bella said."

"No offense to you, Regulus," Layla grumbled. "But your entire bloody family can go to hell. They're horrible, awful people."

Regulus sighed. "No, you're right," he agreed. "They really are, the lot of them. Sirius was the only one halfway decent, but he's always been so bloody cavalier toward everyone and everything." He paused. "Oh, and I guess my cousin Andromeda is pretty all right too. But she's much older than us; you wouldn't know her. You'd probably like her actually."

Lights flashed against the back of her closed eyelids, making her dizzy and queasy. She groaned, "Oh, Hospital Wing, please. I feel so sick." Regulus nodded, guiding her up to the castle.

Just outside the Hospital Wing, Sirius approached the pair, eyes wild with worry. "You've missed, breakfast, lunch, all of our classes! Where the bloody hell have you been?" Sirius demanded. "Last any of us saw of you, Remus had spotted you at that bloody Halloween party in the Three Broomsticks, laughing it up with my cousins and Rabastan LeStrange of all bloody people. Then LeStrange was found bloody and half-dead this morning in some alley in Hogsmeade, and you had vanished! What the hell happened?"

"Sirius, calm down," Regulus tried to warn, but the Gryffindor ignored him.

"What happened, Layla?" Sirius repeated.

Nausea overwhelming her, Layla gasped, "Sirius, please. I'm gonna be —"

"Tell me what happened!" Sirius insisted, stepping closer.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Layla let go of Regulus and tried to rush past Sirius in a bid to make it to a rubbish bin in time, but Sirius caught hold of her. She started dry heaving, unable to contain it, and Sirius wrinkled his nose in revulsion, letting go of her immediately and stepping back, shoving her back into Regulus's arms. His younger brother glared at him hatefully as he caught Layla around the waist and supported her, despite his own distaste at her condition. "I warned you," Regulus snarled. "Now will you just get out of the way?"

Sirius stepped to the side, Layla's stomach muscles ceasing contracting as she dropped her head onto Regulus's shoulder. Regulus helped her walk past Sirius, never stopping scowling at his older brother, and the three entered the Hospital Wing. Regulus handed Layla the nearest rubbish bin as she sat down on the nearest empty bed, and she hugged it tightly to her chest, her eyes watering from retching. Sirius followed them in, aggravated. "What happened?" Sirius asked again, this time keeping his distance from Layla and her upset but empty stomach.

Thoroughly annoyed by his persistence, Layla snapped, "Your bloody cousin Narcissa teamed up with LeStrange to set me up to be raped and married off based on some stupid pureblood tradition, all because she thinks I'm the only thing standing between her and marriage to Lucius Malfoy."

Shocked, Sirius said, his voice low, "Come again?"

Regulus snapped, "They hit her with one of those date-rape potions, and LeStrange tried to get it on with her. She couldn't fight back. Malfoy found them and rescued her. I'm guessing that if LeStrange is half-dead, it's highly likely that Malfoy did it. She's sick because of what that bastard LeStrange did to her."

Madame Pomfrey must've overheard the explanation, because she immediately began fussing over Layla, waving her hand and making diagnoses. After a few minutes, she said, "Well, you're definitely not pregnant, luckily for you."

Face flushed, Layla said, more to Sirius than anyone else in the room, "He didn't get that far. So congrats, Sirius, I guess you're not a father at this time." Sirius snorted derisively at her comment, but Regulus grinned wryly, shaking his head. "Sirius, I'm fine," Layla insisted. "Please, just go. Regulus and Madame Pomfrey can take care of me just fine. Go to class; you can catch me up on what I've missed." Sirius hesitated, then nodded, turning on his heel and exiting the room quickly. Regulus sat down on the bed next to Layla as Madame Pomfrey scurried away in search of a potion to give Layla. Layla laid her head on his shoulder, yawning. He wrapped an arm around her and held her securely to him, looking down at her with worried brown eyes. Layla muttered, "I'm all right, Regulus. Really. Stop looking at me like I'm going to break at any moment."

Snorting, Regulus said cheekily, "Well frankly, darling, that'd be much easier to do if you weren't physically falling apart at the seams. You look quite breakable at the moment." Layla laughed quietly at that, certain that it was entirely true. Then Regulus added, "Malfoy told me what you said about your, um, sexual history. He probably shouldn't have, but he did." Layla closed her eyes, biting her lip as her pulse raced in a mix of guilt and horror at the memory. "I just… Are you really sure you're ok?"

Layla sighed as she heard Madame Pomfrey scuttling back toward them. "Yes, I'm sure. It… I hate to put it this way, but it wasn't nearly as bad as when it happened before. The potion… It was horrible of him, but also, I guess it was a bit merciful. I've been fully aware during it before and tried to fight back and… Well, this way I was in and out; I didn't entirely know what was going on, just frightening flashes of things. I couldn't speak; I couldn't even scream. I couldn't fight back in any way, and in a way, I suppose that's a bit of a relief. If he'd managed it, it wouldn't have been in any way my fault. I couldn't have stopped it. When it happened before and I was totally lucid, I blamed myself because I thought I hadn't fought hard enough to get away. I know it still wasn't my fault, but… it's easier not to blame myself when I was drugged. Or at least, not as much…"

Madame Pomfrey interrupted then, forcing Layla to sit up and drink an entire bottle of Pepper-Up Potion, which almost immediately took away her worst symptoms, leaving her simply exhausted beyond belief. Pomfrey instructed her to sleep and not go to class for the next two days but otherwise gave her permission to return to her own dormitory. When the mediwitch left to check on Rabastan, who had apparently been brought to the Hospital Wing as well, Regulus said quietly, "I don't like the idea of sending you up to Ravenclaw alone."

Layla whispered back, "What do you expect me to do, then? I'm not going anywhere near the Slytherin common room, that snake pit…"

Regulus hesitated, but only for a moment. "I could come up to Ravenclaw tower… I know I couldn't stay in your dorm, and I wouldn't want to. But I could just hang out in the common room there during the day while you're just staying there resting until Meadowes can be there with you at night."

"You'll miss your classes," Layla reminded him.

"I don't care. I want to make sure you're safe."

"It's not as though just anyone can get into Ravenclaw tower," Layla said gently.

"Anyone with enough brains can. I know for a fact that Sirius and his gang have done it loads of times. And, if Rabastan's friends decide to try to take revenge on you because of what Malfoy did to him…"

"All right, all right," Layla groaned. "Let's just go then. I'm done arguing. Stay as long as you like; I'm sure my fellow Ravenclaws will just love having a Slytherin hanging around all the time." Regulus rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, smiling and shaking his head, but Layla knew he was relieved she'd said yes.