'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome, and I don't feel right when you've gone away. – Broken, Seether feat. Amy Lee

January 31, 1978

"Danes." Snape's deep voice came from her left, and Layla jumped slightly as he slammed his bag onto the library table next to her. "We need to talk."

Layla raised an eyebrow at the Slytherin, slightly unnerved by his aggressive tone. Not that he wasn't always slightly aggressive, but this felt different – more directed toward a particular point. "Oh?" she said, doing her best to cover her anxiety as she resumed writing her Charms essay. "What about, Snape?"

"Just an interesting tidbit of information," Snape smirked as he sat in the chair beside her. "As you well know, Lucius Malfoy has been regularly giving me instructions on which particular curses and counter-curses he wishes me to teach you. Interestingly enough, he has requested that I teach you one of my particular favorites, a curse of my own invention, the Sectumsempra Curse." Layla froze, her quill hovering over her parchment, ink dripping and splattering on her essay. Snape grinned wickedly, knowing he had her cornered. "The strange thing is, you told me he had already taught you that curse."

Clearing her throat, Layla put her quill down and said, "Well, perhaps Lucius meant to teach me the counter-curse, since we've already established that I don't know how to undo that spell."

Snape shook his head. "I spoke with him directly on the subject, though that was a valiant attempt to escape my suspicion. He was very specific that he had not instructed you on the curse, and that I needed to teach you both the curse and the counter-curse immediately. Now, why would that be, if he's already taught you the curse? Unless, of course, you're lying."

"Why would I lie?" Layla said, doing her best to remain nonchalant and ignore the growing panic inside her chest. "Where else could I have learned it?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her, his grin vanishing. "That's the part I can't quite work out. See, other than a few select Death Eaters, such as Lucius, I have taught that spell to no one."

"Maybe I read it in a book somewhere," Layla suggested, offering a half-truth.

"It can't be found in any book on Curses or Dark Magic because I invented the spell myself. The only book it is recorded in has never left my personal possession."

Layla sighed, then offered a bold lie. "Fine. I'm a ridiculously powerful Legilimens. You caught me. Truth is, I accidentally ripped it from your mind seconds before I cast it. Oops."

"Nice try," Snape mocked. "You can't have pulled it from my mind, because I'm too good at Occlumency for that. No one could have broken my mental defenses like that without me knowing about it."

Layla took a deep breath and lied, "I'm sure Lucius just forgot that he'd taught me the spell last summer."

"Possible, but unlikely," Snape said. "Nice try. Tell me how you really learned that spell."

Bracing herself for any blowback, Layla looked up from her parchment and met Snape's void black eyes. "No," she said firmly as she stared him down.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no," Layla repeated. "I will tell you nothing, Snape."

Snape stared at her for a hard, long minute, his face unreadable. "Very well, then," he said coldly. "Then there's really no reason for us to continue these tutoring sessions."

"Snape, don't forget Lucius's orders," Layla said, just a hint of a threat in her tone. Ever since he'd started tutoring her, Layla's scores in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had gone up drastically, and she didn't want to lose that resource.

"Lucius is not the Dark Lord, even if he occasionally likes to think so," Snape sneered. "I don't have to obey him. I will not continue to teach Dark Magic and the defense against it to someone I cannot trust. It's as simple as that."

Layla argued, "And how do I know that I can trust you in return?" Snape paused as he threw his bag over his shoulder, thinking. "Not even Regulus knows the answers you're looking for, Snape. Why the hell would I tell you anything about me?"

Silence passed between them. Snape said quietly, "Perhaps you shouldn't. But you should know, I'm better at keeping secrets than anyone else in this school. Maybe even better than Dumbledore."

"How do I know that's true?" Layla said suspiciously.

Snape sighed, sitting back down in the chair beside her. "Because it's true, I'm the best Occlumens in this school," he said, and for a moment, Layla thought he was just bragging, exaggerating his abilities. But then, she realized that he must be telling the truth. How else could Professor Snape spend nearly twenty years teaching potions, pretending to work for the Order of the Phoenix, then turn around her sixth year and murder Professor Dumbledore? She knew Dumbledore was a highly skilled Legilimens; she hadn't even managed to keep the headmaster out of her mind, merely deflect and redirect his attacks to pointless, useless memories such as children's television programs she grew up watching. Fear told her that she still couldn't trust Snape; he was a Death Eater, or about to be if he wasn't already. He wasn't like Lucius and Regulus; Snape had the choice to walk away from that path, and he was choosing to go down it anyway, which made his crimes that much worse. "I'm also very talented at Legilimency," Snape threatened. "If necessary, I can force the secret from you."

Glaring at him, Layla said sarcastically, "Oh, yes, you big bad Death Eater, that's so obviously the way to win over a girl's trust and loyalty; threaten to exploit her mind and steal her deepest, darkest secrets. That's the perfect tactic."

Snape took a breath, then said through ground teeth, "Right. Sorry."

Layla narrowed her eyes further at him and ignored the forced apology. Deciding on a small test, she maintained eye contact with Snape and reached for his mind, only to meet the hardest wall she'd ever felt. Since she'd started practicing Legilimency and Occlumency her fifth year, inspired by a library book, the only mind this guarded she'd ever encountered was still Severus Snape, though he had been older at the time obviously. She retracted her spell from his mind, and said quietly, "Fine. If you will teach me to be as good at Occlumency as you, then I will allow you to see into my mind enough to discover why I know your secret spell if you will keep the secret to yourself."

Tilting his head slightly, Snape agreed, "Very well. We'll start on Saturday night and –"

"Hold it," Layla interrupted. "I'm not going to just trust you with this. I'll agree to these terms only if you swear to them with an Unbreakable Vow."

Snape scoffed. "You can't be serious."

"Can't I?"

Snape's cold black eyes drilled into her, but Layla refused to back down. "As you wish," he finally, tensely agreed. "I'll arrange for Regulus to administer the Vow for us on Saturday night. Then we will begin your training." Layla nodded, and Snape snatched his bag up and stormed out of the library.

February 4, 1978

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Regulus asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day, but was, in fact, only the hundredth time since Tuesday.

Layla rolled her eyes as she and Regulus waited for Snape in the Hogwarts kitchens. "No," she answered sarcastically. "I think this is probably the worst mistake I could ever make, but hey, why not do it?"

"Layla," Regulus reprimanded, and she exhaled sharply. "I'm serious."

"No, you're Regulus, and thank Merlin."

Regulus huffed irritably. "Layla!"

"All right, all right," she said, stealing a yummy-looking pastry off a nearby tray and taking a bite. "I'm not one hundred percent certain, but what else can I do here? This is the best option I can think of. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

Regulus sighed heavily, then nodded. "Yes, of course, you know I'll help you. It'd be nice if I knew what the hell it is that you're trying so hard to hide that you're forcing Snape to choose between keeping your secret or dying."

Layla shook her head. "Sorry, no can do," she said between bites of pastry. "I actually care about you, unlike Snape. If Snape chooses to throw his life away by exposing my secret, then fine. But I'm not going to put you in harm's way by telling you."

"Such charming sentiments." Snape's sarcasm sneaked up on the pair from behind, making them both jump. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Layla nodded, and Regulus stood up next to her, offering her his hand to help her up. She accepted his hand, standing to face Snape, doing her best to believe herself when she said that this was the best option. She had talked over the incident with Snape with Lucius that night, and he had agreed that she'd made the best of a bad situation, praising her cleverness in forcing him to take an Unbreakable Vow to keep her secret. Still, it was difficult to consider trusting Severus Snape, of all people, with her life. Regulus took a deep breath, then said reluctantly, "Ok, let's do this then. Take each other's hand, and swear what you must."

Snape offered his wand hand to Layla, and she hesitated a moment before she accepted it. His firm grip held her still as Regulus placed the tip of his wand against their hands. Layla looked up from their hands and met Snape's dark, unreadable eyes. "Do you swear to teach me to be the best that I can be at Occlumency and Legilimency?" Layla asked.

"I will," Snape said, and something in the tone of his voice rang as sincere to Layla. A thin flame of fire shot from Regulus's wand and encircled Layla and Snape's handshake, hovering just above their skin.

She continued, "And do you swear to keep anything you find in my mind during this training or that I tell you regarding my personal history a secret unless otherwise permitted by me to share it, no matter what it may cost you?"

Snape hesitated for half a moment, then said, "I will." Another tongue of flame engulfed their hands. At the last second before Regulus completed the spell, Snape added quickly, "Layla, do you swear to keep any of my secrets that you may find in my mind during the course of your training a secret as well, unless otherwise permitted by me to expose?"

Faltering, Layla searched Snape's face, wondering what sort of secret he could possibly be hiding that he wanted to hold her to an Unbreakable Vow to protect it. "I will," she said softly, and a third ribbon of flame tied itself around their hands. Regulus glanced back and forth between the two, concerned, but he finished the spell anyway. The flames closed in on their skin and seared through their hands with all the pain of true fire, but left no marks or pain upon disappearing.

Snape nodded to Regulus as Layla said, "Thanks. I think we can take it from here."

Slightly incredulous, Regulus said, "Wait, you want me to go now? Just you and Snape? Really?"

Layla said calmly, "Regulus, he's just teaching me magic. It's not like…" She trailed off, not willing to finish that thought. "I know what I'm doing," she said instead.

He looked a bit frustrated but seemed to shrug it off. "Fine. I'll see you later then." Layla nodded, and Regulus marched out of the kitchen.

Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at Layla. "Let's get started then," he said with a sadistic smile. "Legilimens."

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach…"

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try asking her?"

A few people laughed; Harry caught sight of Seamus's eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel, and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter…"

"Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox."

"'. . . Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives…"

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

"Yes," said Snape quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Snape's lip curled. "Obviously…"

"Caught these two trying to help the Weasley girl," Draco Malfoy said proudly, shoving Neville Longbottom and Layla Emerson into Umbridge's sickeningly sweet pink office, the door shutting behind them.

As Draco held Layla harshly by the arm behind Umbridge's desk, along with several other Dumbledore's Army members, Umbridge demanded of Harry Potter, who was seated in the chair before her, "You were going to Dumbledore, weren't you?"

"No," Harry denied, and Umbridge slapped him across the face with a loud crack.

The door opened, and Snape said, "You sent for me, Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," Umbridge said, standing up straight. "The time has come for answers, whether they want to give them to me or not. Have you brought the Veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid," Snape replied coolly, "That you've used up all my stores of Veritaserum interrogating students, the last of it on Miss Chang. Unless you wish to poison him, and I can assure you, I would have the greatest sympathy if you did, I cannot help you…"

The Death Eater stalked forward, the heavy fall of his every step sending a flutter of fear through Layla's heart. This was so incredibly different from the Death Eater dummies in their training room – this was real, and it was dangerous. "Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded, desperate to protect his godfather.

"You know," Lucius Malfoy's voice floated, smooth as honey, from behind the mask. "You should really learn to tell the difference, between dreams," he turned his mask to smoke with a wave of his wand, "and reality. You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see. Now, hand me the prophecy."

"You do anything to us, I'll break it," Harry threatened bravely.

A mad giggle came from the darkness behind Lucius. "He knows how to play! Itty… bitty… baby… Potter," Bellatrix mocked as she prowled her way from the shadows to stand behind Lucius.

"Bellatrix LeStrange," Neville said, horrified.

"Neville Longbottom, is it?" the older woman cooed. "How's mum and dad?"

"Better now that they're about to be avenged," Neville snapped, fear turning to rage. Both raised their wands aggressively, but Harry and Lucius stepped between them.

"Let's everybody just calm down, shall we?" Lucius said gently. "All we want is that prophecy…"

"Hey, Layla," Harry Potter said as he and Ron Weasley sat down across from her at the Ravenclaw table. She paused eating the ham and cheese sandwich that was her lunch, raising an eyebrow at the two boys. "I came across this spell in this book, handwritten in, but I've never heard of it before."

"So?" Layla said.

"So," Ron said, dragging out "o" awkwardly. "You're a smart girl, constantly reading, basic nerdy Ravenclaw."

Layla rolled her eyes at the ginger Gryffindor. "Astute observation, Ron."

Harry said quickly, "We were just hoping that you might know something about it, since you're the only person in the D.A. as well read as Hermione, and she didn't know."

Sighing, Layla said, "Fine, then. Show me."

Harry immediately handed over a battered old copy of Advanced Potion-Making, and Layla accepted it, careful not to lose the page that Harry was holding open for her to read. She saw the handwritten note "Sectumsempra," with no other annotations on the subject. She frowned, then shook her head. "I've never heard of it. It's not in any of the books I've read, but I'm not sure I'd test it out on anything I particularly cared about keeping. You never know what a random spell like that might do." Harry nodded, disappointed in her answer, but thanked her anyway before heading back with Ron to the Gryffindor table…

"Mummy," Layla said, her tiny form squeezing between her mother and father on the soft pale blue sofa of her childhood home. "I want biscuits."

"They're in the kitchen, dear," Mum said with a smile. "We'll get them for you in just a minute if you're patient."

Layla scrunched up her face. Obviously, a minute was too long to wait for biscuits. All she wanted was sweet, delicious, warm, gooey chocolate chip biscuits, they just need to get here from the kitchen…

Five seconds later, the biscuits came flying from the kitchen, landing perfectly in Layla's lap. Her parents stared in shock at their toddler. "Honey, how did you get those biscuits?" Dad asked.

Layla smiled up at him as she took a big bite of biscuit. She chewed thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Magic, I guess."

The seventh floor had filled with Peruvian darkness powder, blinding Layla as she stood watch with Seamus and Dean at the floor's entrance. She lit up her wand with a simple charm, but the light did nothing to penetrate the darkness.

It was a mere minute later that the entire floor broke out in an all-out war, Order members alongside Dumbledore's Army against the multitude of Death Eaters who had suddenly poured from the Astronomy Tower. Layla found herself alongside Auror and Order member Nymphadora Tonks, desperately attempting to contain the wild Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle, who was chaotically throwing Killing Curses in every possible direction, one of which had hit one of his fellow Death Eaters.

"Reducto!" Harry shouted, blasting Rowle into the air and away from Layla and Tonks.

Layla grabbed hold of Harry's arm as he tried to race past her, firing curses at the Death Eaters. "What's happened?" she demanded.

"Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry snapped quickly, yanking his arm free and running after the Death Eaters as they slipped into a secret passage, just ducking into the tunnel before it closed. Layla stared after him, eyes wide with disbelief and terror.

Layla screamed, thrashing against the Snatcher's hold on her arms as another man drew the knife's blade across her father's throat. Her sobs were then drowned out by her mother's screams as yet another Snatcher dragged the older woman to her feet. "Oh, let's see, what will we ever do with Mummy dearest?" he purred.

"Get away from her!" Layla shrieked, trying desperately to reach her wand where it had fallen to the floor by her feet. The Snatcher behind her held her too tightly, though, and she couldn't move at all.

"Shut it, mudblood!" the man facing her mother barked angrily, and the man behind Layla suddenly punched her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, unable to breathe and still unable to reach her wand.

"Don't you touch my daughter!" Mum yelled, tears for her husband still streaming down her face even as his blood streamed from his throat. Layla was still couldn't breathe as the Snatchers slowly began to cut at her mother's skin, torturing her for what felt like hours before they finally cut her throat so deeply that it slashed her spinal cord. Layla screamed and thrashed, still fighting to get free to protect her mother…

The Snatcher behind Layla grabbed her ink-black hair by the roots and yanked, pulling her head back and exposing the vulnerable skin of her pale neck. Layla hissed at the pain in her scalp as Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange watched. "You're one of Potter's friends," Malfoy accused. "You were with those children in the Department of Mysteries."

"Where is Potter?" Bellatrix spat, more impatient than Malfoy.

Layla stayed silent until the Snatcher holding her hair pulled it again, shaking her head. She gasped, then said defiantly, "I don't know."

Bellatrix whipped her wand at Layla, hitting her in the chest with a Stinging Jinx. Layla squealed and tried to move away from the pain, but the Snatcher held her firmly in place… "You're lying," Bellatrix purred. "He trusts you. You're part of his little army of babies. Where is your precious leader, mudblood? Where is Harry Potter?"

Before Layla could say a word, Bellatrix flicked her wand at the young girl again, placing her under the Cruciatus Curse. Layla screamed and writhed against the grip of the Snatcher, who forced her to continue standing. When Bellatrix finally released her, Layla gasped, "I don't know anything about Potter; I swear!"

"You filthy, lying little mudblood," Bellatrix sneered. The Death Eater lieutenant pulled a dagger from the belt at her waist. She delicately traced her way down Layla's neck with the tip of her knife as Layla whined and did her best not to move, fearful of the damage the slightest movement could cause. The knife cut the lightest of lines down her neck, missing her jugular vein and carotid artery, by sheer luck or design, Layla couldn't be sure. Bellatrix lightly pulled the knife down across Layla's collarbone, her shoulder, and her arm, tugging it against the girl's sweater, until the tip cut through the fabric and rested lightly against the skin of her left forearm. Bellatrix held Layla's arm under the tip of her dagger firmly as she asked again, "Where is that dirty halfblood, Potter?"

Layla said, terror replacing the defiance in her tone, "I don't know. I haven't heard from him since the end of last school year; I promise."

Bellatrix grinned at her. "I don't believe you," she hissed, then dug the blade into the skin and muscle of Layla's forearm. Shrieking, Layla struggled, but between Bellatrix's grip and the hold of the Snatcher, she couldn't escape from Bellatrix as the older witch carved up her arm. After what seemed like hours, Bellatrix removed the knife from Layla's destroyed flesh, and Layla sagged sobbing against the Snatcher, unable to hold herself on her feet any longer. "I'll ask this once more before I throw you into the dungeon with our resident werewolf to be eaten alive," Bellatrix said. "Where is Harry Potter?"

Weakly shaking her head, Layla cried, "I don't know. Please, I don't know anything!"

Layla weakly struggled to her feet as Malfoy exclaimed, "Who the bloody hell are you, and how did you get in here?"

Layla swayed on her feet as her arm bled profusely, dripping blood all over the Oriental rug on the floor. A large wolfhound lounging on the rug by the fireplace growled at her as she stumbled a few steps toward the closed door in a bid for escape, but Malfoy stood, setting the book and wine glass quickly on the side table next to his chair and rushing over to her. Layla screamed when Malfoy grabbed her by the upper arms, shrieking, "No, no, please! Let me go! I don't know anything! I swear I don't know anything!"

Malfoy struggled to hold onto Layla as she fought viciously against his hold. "What are you talking about?" Malfoy demanded. "You don't know anything about what? Who are you?" When Layla ignored his questions as he pulled her toward the sofa, screaming instead of answering, Malfoy snapped, "Stop the bloody caterwauling." Malfoy forced her to sit down on the sofa and knelt in front of her, Layla's shrieks ceasing at his tone of authority, but she glared at him with a look of such pure hatred that left Malfoy momentarily dumbfounded. "I'm not going to hurt you," Malfoy said after a moment's thought, more gently.

Suddenly realizing that the man in front of her had blue eyes instead of gray, Layla's eyes widened in horror as a certain realization dawned on her. "W-who are you?" she sputtered.

Malfoy frowned, watching her face intently for a minute, then began to examine her spasming, mutilated arm. "Lucius Malfoy. This is my home," he said. "Now, will you please tell me who you are and how you ended up in my house?"

Layla finally managed to push back against Snape and force him to exit her memories. The jerky, disjointed flow of information left her slightly dizzy as she came back to the reality in front of her, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. "I don't understand," Snape snapped angrily. "How is this possible?"

Glaring at the Slytherin, Layla sat down on the closest kitchen bench. "I was wearing a Time-Turner when Bellatrix tortured me," she admitted aloud for the first time in months, though it felt like a lifetime ago now. "It broke, and I ended up roughly twenty years in the past."

Snape thought long and hard on that. "Why not use it to save yourself and your parents before it got that far?"

Layla shrugged. "They weren't designed to go farther back in time than a few hours. By the time that I had the presence of mind and ability to use it… it was too late."

Snape said nothing, and at first, Layla thought he was going to allow the subject to drop and focus in on how she'd managed to steal his signature spell as a sixth year. Instead, he sat down beside her and said quietly, "I'm sorry for your loss."

His words were like the shock of ice on the skin after a hot shower. It was only then that Layla realized how incredibly not over their loss she was, how much it still deeply hurt her, how desperately she still missed them. She did her best to brush it off, shrugging, but her voice was watery when she said, "It is what it is." She took a shaky breath, then added, "Anyway, now you know how I knew your stupid spell. My friend, Harry, had gotten hold of your old Potions textbook, and it was written in the margins. I never knew what the spell actually did until I accidentally used it on Sirius Black in September."

Snape nodded but said nothing. Layla stole a quick glance at him. He was sitting with his elbow planted on his knees, his hands in prayer in front of him, his black eyes staring intently at the kitchen floor, lost in thought. Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Layla chose to observe the house elves instead, watching them scurry around cleaning up after dinner and preparing anything necessary for tomorrow's breakfast. A young, tiny house elf appeared in front of her, holding a tray of pumpkin pasties that was larger than the elf herself high over her head, offering the snacks to the two seventh years with a shy smile. Layla offered a small, sad smile in return, accepting a pastry from the tray, surprised when Snape accepted one as well. The young elf's smile widened, then she scurried off to an older elf to put the tray on the Slytherin table for the next day's breakfast options.

After an uncomfortably long period of silence, Snape finally said, voice void of emotion, "We will continue these training sessions every Saturday night for the rest of the term in rotating locations. I will send you an owl with a schedule." Layla nodded silently, unsure what to say. Snape stood abruptly and swept out of the room, his black school robe billowing behind him.

February 23, 1978

"Layla?" Dorcas's voice penetrated the fog of worry in Layla's mind, dragging her back to the reality of her increasingly cold scrambled eggs.

"Hmm?" Layla hummed quietly, pushing her breakfast around her plate, disinterested in actually consuming it.

Raising an eyebrow at her friend, Dorcas said, "Ok, I know you've been kind of off since we got back from the Christmas holiday and your engagement and stuff, but you're still usually pretty good about actually listening to me when I talk."

A twinge of guilt in her chest, Layla apologized, "Sorry. I didn't mean to zone out on you. Tell me again?"

Dorcas evaluated her fellow Ravenclaw with keen, penetrating eyes. "What's bothering you?"

Layla tried to play it off. "What do you mean?"

Dorcas snorted. "Oh, don't even try that," she said. "You're a terrible liar, Layla. Come on; it can't be all that bad."

Layla's eyes dropped from her friend's face back to her eggs. Regulus wasn't there to explain away her moods this time; he'd had an early morning Quidditch practice and hadn't made it to breakfast yet. Sighing, Layla decided that maybe sharing her concerns with her Muggleborn friend could be helpful. And considering Dorcas was her only friend that was a girl, she was in pretty desperate need of girl talk with someone. "Fine," Layla admitted. "It's about Lucius."

One look at Dorcas's face told Layla that that wasn't the response her friend had expected. "Malfoy?" Layla nodded. "Ok, what gives? Is he being a git to you or something?"

Layla shook her head. "No, no. Not at all." She hesitated, then continued, "He's not being anything, actually, and that's what has me worried."

"What do you mean?"

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Layla explained, "Well, you know how Lucius normally sends me those silly, overindulgent care packages at least once a week, and letters at least once a day."

"Know about them? Girl, I practically live off those care packages," Dorcas teased. "I think I eat more of those snacks than you do."

Layla rolled her eyes, smiling a little. "Truer words never spoken," Layla chuckled. "But seriously. It's been three weeks since I've heard from him."

Dorcas paused with a strawberry halfway to her mouth. "Huh. That is kind of odd."

"Yeah," Layla sighed, stirring her eggs that were now inedible levels of cold. "He's never gone even a day without at least sending me an owl before. And now, it's been three weeks since I've heard from him. The next Hogsmeade weekend is in a couple more weeks, and he's normally bugging the shit out of me to make plans with him for it by now."

"Well, yeah," Dorcas said. "Because you never seem to actually want to spend any time with him."

Layla blushed with guilt. "Was it really that obvious?"

Dorcas nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. I was incredibly surprised to hear you two got engaged. I mean, when we first met you seemed totally disgusted by him, but then for whatever reason after the Halloween party you were on much better terms with him, and then Christmas comes and you two are engaged. Kind of a whirlwind romance, don't you think?"

Shrugging, Layla said, "I'd hardly call it a whirlwind romance. Or a romance of any kind, really."

Frowning, Dorcas demanded, "Then what the hell are you doing engaged to him?"

A flush of guilt heated Layla's cheeks, and she set her fork down. "To be honest, circumstances demanded it," she admitted quietly. "But I don't know, we are friends now. He's – he's always been incredibly nice to me, and –"

"Oh my god," Dorcas said with a growing grin. "You have a crush on Malfoy, don't you?"

Layla cringed at the childish choice of words. "I wouldn't call it that," Layla grumbled. "But yeah, I guess so." Dorcas laughed loudly, and Layla started digging through her school bag for nothing in particular, desperate to escape any attention her friend's laughter was drawing. "Come on; seriously. It's complicated. But the point is, he's never not written to me, especially not for this long. I'm worried about him."

Sobering up, Dorcas reassured, "Hey, come on. He's Lucius Malfoy. It's not as though the Death Eaters would have attacked him or kidnapped him or something. He's a pureblood and an elitist and everyone knows it."

"He's more than that," Layla snapped, growing a bit defensive of him. "He's not as elitist as you'd think, and he's a much better person than people realize. He's sweet and kind and caring and –"

"Whoa, hey, hey," Dorcas said, trying to calm the dark-haired girl down. "I didn't mean anything by it. Ok, yeah, so you're definitely catching feelings for him."

Huffing, Layla said, "Yeah, I guess I am. I guess that's a good thing since I'm spending the rest of my life married to him."

"I guess so," Dorcas said, warier of Layla's mood than before. "Anyway, I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he's just busy with work or something?"

Layla blanched at that thought. As far as she knew, the only job Lucius Malfoy worked at was being a Death Eater. Why hadn't it ever occurred to her to bother to ask him what his day job was? "Yeah, maybe."

"Or he could be traveling for work," Dorcas suggested. "You know, somewhere that it takes the owls a lot longer to reach us here, like South America or Asia or something."

Layla nodded, feeling more worried than before she'd opened up to Dorcas about it. Had Voldemort sent Lucius abroad on some evil Death Eater mission? What if he was hurt or dead? Would any of the other Death Eaters even bother to tell her? Or would he become just another in a long string of missing persons in the Daily Prophet? The thought shook Layla to the core. What would become of her if he were gone? "Yeah, maybe so," she said slowly, a little distant. Putting the contents of her school bag back in their proper order, she stood, mumbling, "I've got to go to class," before slipping quietly out of the Great Hall.

The Slytherin table was decidedly empty at that day's lunch hour when Layla slid into the seat beside Regulus. He raised an eyebrow at her, forever surprised when she joined him at his house's table. He wasn't prepared for when she stole his turkey and cheese sandwich right out of his hand, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him away from the table, led him out of the Great Hall, and shoved him and his sandwich into a broom closet on the first-floor corridor. She lit her wand with a silent charm as she closed the door to the small, dark space before Regulus finally found his voice. "What the hell, Layla?"

She handed half of his sandwich back to him, taking a bite out of the other half. "Where's Lucius?"

Regulus's brow furrowed all the more in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Layla said around a bite of sandwich, "I mean, where is he? He hasn't written to me in three weeks now. I'm worried. Has the Dark Lord sent him off on some mission? Is he hurt? Is he in St. Mungo's? Is he – is he –"

"Slow down," Regulus said calmly, dropping a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his left hand still holding his sandwich. "Just slow down there. I didn't even know Lucius was gone. But I promise he's not dead. The Dark Lord would've filled his spot in his inner circle by now if that were the case, so I would know if he were. If he's off on a mission for the Dark Lord, I don't know anything about it. He often keeps things highly compartmented among his servants. I will see what I can find out for you, but honestly, you're probably just going to have to wait it out until Lucius comes home again."

Layla pouted a little but nodded. "Fine." After a moment's thought, she added, "Thanks."

Regulus nodded, eating what was left of his half of the sandwich in one big bite. Swallowing, he said, "You're welcome." After Layla finished the other half of his sandwich, Regulus said softly, "Layla, I think we should get out of this closet now."

Layla glanced up at him, confused. "What?"

"You know," Regulus said, his voice thick, "Because this is an exceptionally tight, confined space, with very little room left between us. And we both know that we can't allow for such… intimacies… between us, or we might be tempted to do things we aren't supposed to."

Heat rushed down Layla's spine as she caught Regulus's drift. "Oh," she said softly. "Right. Right. Ok. Yeah, let's get out of here."

Regulus squeezed her shoulder, but Layla jerked away, her hands just beginning to shake as she fought the overly intimate feelings she was suddenly having for Regulus. She threw the closet door open and rushed out, tears stinging the corner of her eyes, angry at herself and feeling stupid for letting him get to her so easily, even if he hadn't been intent on seducing her. She hurried to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, her head swimming with thoughts on any subject except the one at hand.

March 4, 1978

The Three Broomsticks bustled with life, overcrowded due to the Hogwarts students who were out on the town that particular Hogsmeade weekend. Layla sat at the bar with Regulus, sipping on the last of her butterbeer as he asked, "Have you still not heard anything from Lucius?"

Layla shook her head, staring hard at her drink as she stirred the ice with her straw. "No, not a word," she said worriedly.

Regulus took one last bite of his shepherd's pie, then stood quickly. "Come with me," he said quietly. Without a moment's hesitation, Layla followed Regulus out of the pub and into the nearest deserted alley. Regulus leaned casually against the alley wall as he said, "Look, I asked around about him. For the most part, I was told to shove off and mind my own business. But my cousin let it slip that he was out of the country and that the Dark Lord had him exactly where he wanted him."

Frowning, Layla said, "So, he is off doing some work for the Dark Lord."

"It sounds like it," Regulus confirmed. After a tense silence, Regulus asked, "Layla, are you – I mean, do you – do you like him?"

Layla's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him. "I don't know," she said honestly. "He's – he's very caring and – I don't know. I don't dislike him at least. It's – it's getting more comfortable, I think, to talk to him, to be with him. Or, at least it was until he disappeared…"

"Hey! Layla!" Dorcas waved to her roommate from the alley's entrance, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

When Layla glared at Regulus, he raised an eyebrow back at her as he whispered, "What? You know she's bad for your reputation."

Rolling her eyes at Regulus, Layla turned to Dorcas as she walked up. "Hey, what's up?" Layla said, reminding herself to not let her annoyance at Regulus redirect toward Dorcas.

"Want to go to Tomes and Scrolls with me?" Dorcas asked excitedly. "We can go to Honeydukes after to restock our sweets supply since Malfoy hasn't been keeping up with the candy baskets lately."

Nodding, Layla said, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. Regulus, do you want to come too?"

He shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll see you later, Layla."

Layla nodded goodbye to him, and Regulus wandered away in the opposite direction of the book shop. Forcing a smile, Layla followed Dorcas out of the alley to the High Street of the village as the dark-skinned girl babbled excitedly about a new book on theoretical charms that she was hoping to find that day. Layla only paid Dorcas enough attention to be polite, more concerned by worry for Lucius than interested in Dorcas's reading material.

As they walked up the front steps of the book shop, a shriek split the air a few stores away. Both girls jumped at the sound, and Layla whirled around, wand at the ready, and it didn't take long to spot the danger. A massive green cloud was forming the Dark Mark above the village as swirling dark shadows swept through the streets, materializing into masked Death Eaters. Curses began to fly in a deadly rainbow in the streets, and villagers and students alike fled in terror.

"Dorcas, get inside and hide," Layla ordered, instinctively reverting to her days in Dumbledore's Army, prepared to launch herself into the fray of battle to protect her friend and herself.

The command came too late, however, as a Death Eater manifested before them on the shop's porch. His masked face tilted as he inspected the girls with their backs to him. They only just looked over their shoulders at him as he spoke, and his voice was filled with dark amusement. "Well, what a pretty little mudblood we have here. Let's play, shall we?" Layla reacted first as the Death Eater cast a Cruciatus Curse at Dorcas, blocking it with some small difficulty. The man seemed to hesitate, then he said more sinisterly, "Wait a minute, I know you. You're Malfoy's girl, aren't you? Oh, he won't be too happy to hear about you defending a mudblood. Well, we can't be having that, now, can we?"

Layla threw a Stunning Spell at the Death Eater, but he easily swept the curse to the side and hit her square in the chest with a Knockback Jinx. Landing hard on her head, stars danced across her field of vision. She heard Dorcas screaming a few feet away, but a wave of pain in her head kept Layla pinned to the ground. Blindly, Layla waved her wand in the general direction of Dorcas's shrieks of pain, casting a Shield Charm in the hopes of protecting her friend. The growl of frustration from the Death Eater let her know of her success. "You just don't know when to quit, do you, bitch?" he snarled, and Layla heard his angry stomps approaching her. She raised her wand to defend herself as he continued to curse at her, but he went silent before she could think of another spell to cast.

Layla blinked hard several times, trying her hardest to clear her vision. When her eyes refocused, she found herself lying on the ground, wet from melted snow, face to face with the masked Death Eater. He lay unnervingly still, far too close to her for comfort. Layla jerked herself up into a sitting position, scrambling to scoot away from his dead body, triggering another severe pain in her head with the sudden movement. Hearing the rustle of a cloak, she looked up to find another masked Death Eater a few feet away, his wand trained on Dorcas. Layla cast a Stunning Spell at him, and without even looking at her, the man whisked the spell safely around his body and into the ground behind him. He stunned Dorcas, then turned his full attention to Layla. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" she cried, but he easily blocked her spells as he stalked toward her.

"Enough of this foolishness," the man growled as he knelt in front of her, grabbing her wand arm and forcing her wand to point away from him at the same time that his wand hand grabbed her black hair and used it to angle her head to allow him to examine her wound. She flinched and tried to yank out of his grip, and he scolded, "Enough, Layla! It's me."

Layla froze as she finally began to recognize the man's voice. His face was close enough now that she could see his clear blue eyes through his mask. "Lucius?" He huffed and nodded. "Where the fuck have you been all month?"

"France," he said curtly. Lucius let go of her hair and waved his wand over the gash just at her hairline, which she only just noticed was dripping blood down her forehead and into her eye. She wiped the blood away from her eye with her free hand as she felt his healing spell take effect and the flow of blood cease. "What the bloody hell were you thinking, protecting a mudblood from a Death Eater?" he snapped harshly.

Layla bristled against his implications. "I was doing the right thing," she hissed back.

"Well, don't," Lucius said, his voice cold as he let go of her wand arm. "Where's the mask I gave you?"

After a moment's thought, Layla answered, "I think it's in my trunk up in my dormitory."

"Damn it to hell!" Lucius cursed, standing and turning his back on her. After a split second, he said, "Then there's no time to talk now. It would put you at risk. You have to run, now."

"Run? From what?" she questioned as she managed to get to her feet.

"From me!" he snapped. "No one can see you being friendly with a Death Eater. Don't argue, Layla; run. Now! You can argue with me later!"

"Dorcas…"

"Will be fine, just go!" Lucius insisted. He unleashed a small Blasting Curse to the street just in front of Layla's feet. Finally taking the hint, Layla turned and ran as fast as her unsteady feet would carry her in the direction of Hogwarts.